The Cursed Brand: Cassidy Yates, #11

By I. J. Parnham

The arrival of Jim Dragon and Pierre Dulaine in Monotony gives Sheriff Cassidy Yates plenty of problems when they both claim to be the owner of a wagonload of valuable cargo. Unbeknown to them the wagon also contains a rusty lump of iron, which turns out to be the infamous Bar-Z branding iron, also known as the cursed brand.

 

Fifteen years ago a fierce range war had raged and the iron had been used to brand its mark into human flesh. Now its presence stirs up old hatreds and it's not long before a body turns up branded. With the tension in town rising Cassidy must expose the culprits before a new, even deadlier conflict erupts.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Culbin Press
• Release date: May 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201792992

I. J. Parnham

Ian Parnham was born in Nottingham, England and now lives in N.E Scotland. He is the author of 37 western novels published as I. J. Parnham, Scott Connor and Ed Law.

Book preview

Chapter One

I’m sorry to bother you, Sheriff, but I have something suspicious to report, Benjamin Jennison said.

Sheriff Cassidy Yates got up from his chair where he had been enjoying a quiet afternoon in the law office and patted Benjamin’s shoulder.

Your information is always useful, he said. What’s wrong?

This man rode into town and asked me to store his wagon at the back of my stable. Then he and his two associates, who have the look of hired guns, started loitering around outside the stable.

That doesn’t sound all that suspicious.

It doesn’t, but they look as if they’re guarding the wagon because they reckon someone might steal it. Benjamin leaned toward Cassidy and lowered his voice for emphasis. The thing is, all that’s on the wagon is a heap of rocks.

Now that does sound odd. Cassidy gestured for his deputy, Floyd Wright, to join him. We’ll check out this wagonload of rocks and its guards.

Deputy Wright smiled, showing that like Cassidy he didn’t expect trouble and that this incident would turn out to be only an interesting diversion. Then they all headed out of the law office.

Benjamin’s young assistant, Patrick Milligan, was waiting outside and, with Cassidy’s blessing, he and Benjamin stayed there in case there were any problems, leaving the two lawmen to walk down the main drag. They were still two buildings away from Benjamin’s stable when the three men who were standing outside turned to them.

One of the men stepped forward to greet them, while in apparent confirmation of Benjamin’s interpretation of events the other two men rolled their shoulders and settled their stances as if they were preparing for a confrontation.

So we meet for the first time, Sheriff Cassidy Yates, the nearer of the men called. He fingered his mustache and smiled. I have heard much about you, all good.

Cassidy didn’t respond until he reached the group.

I’m pleased to hear it, but I don’t know nothing about you.

The man smirked, this information seeming to meet with his favor.

Then let me introduce myself. I am Pierre Dulaine.

What’s your business in town?

I’m on my way to Bear Creek and I’ll be taking a regrettably short break in your marvelous town.

Cassidy gestured at the nearest saloon. Then I’d recommend trying the Golden Star.

I thank you for your assistance.

Pierre gave a short bow and stepped back to stand with his two associates. Cassidy waited, but with the group showing no sign of moving away to seek out the suggested hospitality he moved toward the stable door.

Pierre edged to the side as if he were planning to block Cassidy’s path, but then stilled himself and moved farther away to allow him free passage. In the doorway Cassidy stopped and picked out the loaded open wagon in the corner, which still had two horses hitched up, and then with Wright he moved on.

Bustling sounded behind him as Pierre followed them, but Cassidy maintained a quick pace until he reached the wagon. He threw back the canvas that covered a large expanse of lumpy objects, confirming that they were, in fact, rocks.

This sure is a dull looking cargo, he said, turning to Pierre.

To the untrained eye that is probably the case, Pierre said, slowing down to a more measured pace. To those who know what they’re looking at, it is an expensive cargo.

Cassidy leaned over the side of the wagon to better examine the contents and then turned to Wright, who gave a bemused shrug.

So what am I looking at?

Pierre stood beside Cassidy and slapped a hand down on one of the larger rocks.

Many hundreds of years ago, perhaps even thousands, strange, giant creatures stalked the land. Those creatures are no longer with us, but their remains are.

Cassidy shook his head. I’ve seen plenty of bones of long-dead creatures. They didn’t look like rocks.

As I said, those creatures were strange and nothing like what we’re familiar with today, which is why they are valuable.

Cassidy pointed at Pierre’s associates, who were now lurking in the doorway.

Valuable enough to warrant an armed guard, I presume?

That is so.

Then while you’re in my town, make sure your guards act only as a deterrent or you’ll. . . .

Cassidy trailed off when the men in the doorway flinched, clearly something outside having concerned them. Then the two men drew their guns and separated, taking positions on either side of the doorway.

Inform me about what’s happening, Pierre called as he turned his back on Cassidy and moved away from the wagon.

That was the wrong order, Cassidy said. He advanced on Pierre and grabbed his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. Call off your men. Then I’ll deal with any trouble you might have guarding your valuable heap of rocks.

Pierre shook his shoulders, trying to shrug Cassidy’s hand away. His first attempt failed, but then he swung around and launched a wild blow at Cassidy’s head. Cassidy jerked to one side, evading the aimed punch, but he still stumbled and by the time he’d righted himself Pierre was running for the front of the wagon.

It’s time to go, he called.

Pierre had yet to reach the seat when the guards blasted lead into the side of the wagon between him and Cassidy. Their gunfire had been a warning only, but Cassidy still retreated and sought cover behind another wagon.

Wright was already there and he had hunkered down beside the back corner wheel with his gun aimed at the doorway. Cassidy gestured at him, ordering him to hold his fire and then kneeled down beside the other back wheel.

Nobody’s going anywhere, he shouted. Thrown down your guns while you can still—

He didn’t get to complete his order when the gunmen retaliated with a more sustained burst of gunfire. This time they splattered lead into the wagon the lawmen were using for cover, and at least two shots sliced into the wheels they were hiding behind.

With the men going beyond just providing covering gunfire for Pierre so that he could leave the stable, Cassidy didn’t need to give Wright the order to return fire. They both hammered lead back at the gunmen, forcing them to scurry for cover while firing on the run.

Another one of their slugs kicked splinters from the wheel in front of Cassidy, who took more careful aim. He downed the gunman on his side of the stable with a shot to the side of the chest, and a moment later Wright winged the arm of the other gunman.

This man stumbled and went down on one knee, but then he hunched over to present a small profile and steadied his aim at Wright. The gunman fired, but his wound led to his shot slamming into the back wall. This delay gave both lawmen enough time to rip lead into his upper chest, causing him to tip backward and crash down on his back.

Stop shooting at the lawmen, Pierre shouted from the seat of his wagon, his order coming so late Cassidy couldn’t help but snort a laugh.

He edged out from behind the wagon, finding that Pierre hadn’t managed to get his own wagon moving and he had now raised his hands. Cassidy still aimed his gun at him, while Wright hurried across the stable and checked on the gunmen.

When Wright returned while shaking his head Cassidy told Pierre to get down off the wagon. Pierre did as he’d been ordered and stood before the lawmen.

You are under arrest, Cassidy said, indicating that Pierre should walk on ahead of them.

What have I done wrong? Pierre said, lowering a hand to his chest in a show of wounded pride.

I’ll give you the full list when you’re behind bars in the law office.

I’m always eager to cooperate with the law, so I hope you won’t detain me for long and that you’ll take good care of my valuable cargo.

You can rest assured that your pile of rocks won’t be going anywhere, Cassidy said with a weary air.

Jim Dragon stepped back into the shadows beside the Golden Star saloon when Pierre Dulaine came out of the stable. Then he couldn’t help but smile as the sheriff followed him out with his gun aimed at Pierre’s back.

The other lawman appeared briefly in the doorway and called someone over. This man scurried away and the deputy slipped back inside. Then the stable owner hurried down the main drag and joined the deputy inside.

Even though the gunfight appeared to be over, Jim reckoned that the situation in the stable would still be fraught and uncertain. So now would probably be a bad time to try to reclaim his property.

Jim was a bone hunter who searched the land for the buried bones of long-dead lizards. He had been heading to Bear Creek, where he had contacts that would help him sell the bones he had dug up on his latest expedition to the collectors who would pay handsomely for his discoveries.

Unfortunately, a day’s riding away from Monotony he’d had the misfortune to encounter his nemesis, a man who devoted as much time to searching for men like Jim as Jim did to finding bones. Pierre had bushwhacked Jim and stolen his haul, so Jim had followed him to Monotony.

He had been plotting an attempt to reclaim his property when the lawmen had arrived. Now it would seem that Pierre had been arrested and it was