He’d seen plenty, and he was happy to be three miles or so downriver.
“Elkhorn is growing.New streets are being laid out.We have a church and a schoolhouse now.Right here on Main Street, hardware and mercantile stores are busy all the time.The mail and freight businesses connect us to the outside world.As does the newspaper.We’ve got several butchers and green grocers, a general store, and even a new restaurant.”
Caleb had tried out the restaurant that claimed to have the “best steaks in town.”He planned on selling his beef to them.
“We even received a letter just last week from an acting troupe in Denver.We’ll have our own opera house soon.”
Caleb figured the judge had been working hard on this speech, and there’d be no walking out of here until he was done delivering it.
“Yes, indeed, sir.Elkhorn is the city with a future.It is the place to be.”
So long as the silver held out, Caleb thought.
“But to keep what we have and to grow, we need the law.”
It was a long way around the barn, but Patterson finally got to it.
“You have a sheriff.”
Patterson sent him a look that let Caleb know exactly what he thought of the current lawman.
“I ain’t interested,” he repeated.
“But you haven’t heard my proposition, Mr.Marlowe.”
“Judge, I ain’t selling Jacob Bell’s knife, and I ain’t interested in being sheriff…in Elkhorn or anywhere else.”
Especially now, when he’d finally started building a place that felt more like home than any jail office or lawman’s desk ever could.
“I hear you loud and clear.My proposal for you is something far more important.”He leaned forward.“You help me, and I help you.Quid pro quo, as we say in the legal profession.”
There was sure as hell no way of cutting this conversation short.
“Don’t think I need any help, Judge.”Caleb shook his head.“Unless, while I was hanging about here this morning, a few more fellas decided to ride out to my ranch and help themselves to my cattle.”
“Don’t sell me short.”The civic leader spouting off was gone.Patterson was all business now, and the hard edge in his tone matched the look in his eyes.“I’m not a man to be used lightly.”
“Then how about if you tell me straight exactly how I can help you,” Caleb said coolly.
The judge slid open a drawer and placed a sheet of paper on the desk.It appeared to be a letter.Unsigned.
“First, I want to be sure you know I wield a certain amount of influence…power in this state.I can help my friends, Marlowe, when it suits me.”
“I’d be a fool to doubt it.”
The older man tapped the letter with his fingers.
“Your partner, Henry Jordan, is serving time right now in the Arapahoe County Jail for some difficulty he got involved in up there.”
Caleb was suddenly interested.
His partner had an unfortunate combination of good looks and a quick temper that had been the cause of trouble for him for as long as Caleb knew him.Up north in the Indian Territories, Henry was a sergeant in a cavalry unit that Caleb was scouting for, and they became good friends then.Henry loved poker, whiskey, and women—in no particular order—but he was as fierce and solid as Pike’s Peak when he needed to be.
The fight he’d won in a fancy saloon in Denver had landed him in the pokey for six months.The timing was bad, considering their partnership and the purchase of the ranch and cattle, but he was due to be released in a couple of months.Caleb was looking forward to him getting here and doing his part to make their investment pay.
Truth was, Henry had been the one who convinced Caleb to stop drifting and build something permanent for once.
“I understand that there were witnesses who testified Mr.Jordan was not the instigator, but I’ve learned recently that one of the men involved has been lingering for all this time,” the judge told him.“If he doesn’t survive, your partner may be facing charges of manslaughter.He could spend more time in jail than either of you expects.”
