Bounty Hunter Nate Landry: Family Fury

By Mark L Redmond

Nate and Wolf didn't have much trouble capturing Luke Womack and his two sidekicks. They turned the outlaws over to the town marshal at Wickenburg; and, since the town didn't have a jail yet, he chained the trio to the jail tree. With their trap baited and set, all Nate and Wolf have to do is sit back and wait to capture Luke's four brothers, al

• Language: English
• Publisher: author
• Release date: Sep 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798986233369

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

"D

id you ever whack a hornets’ nest with a stick?" Wolf asked.

No, I said, but I’ve always wanted to ever since we were boys. Do you know where we can find one?

Wolf and I were seated across from each other at a table in a small cantina. We had finished our breakfast of tortillas, beans, beef, and eggs. We were drinking coffee and looking at wanted posters. Wolf had just finished reading the paper I had handed him, and he slid it across the table to me.

Imagine whacking a giant hornets’ nest with a stick, he said. Instead of a swarm of angry hornets trying to sting you, picture a gang of angry outlaws trying to shoot you. That’s what will happen if we go after Luke Womack.

"Except they’d be trying to shoot us instead of just me," I said. I drank some coffee. It was hot and strong.

Why do you think I’m concerned? Wolf asked.

Luke isn’t riding with his brothers, I said.

No, Wolf said, he’s not.

But they’ll find out if we capture or kill him, I said.

Yes, Wolf said, they will. He finished his coffee and set his tin cup on the table. The young girl who had brought us our food appeared with a large coffee pot and refilled both our cups. We thanked her.

Then you think they’ll be angry, and they’ll want to shoot us? I asked.

Shoot us dead, Wolf said.

You want to go after Luke anyway? I asked. Let’s finish our coffee first, Wolf said.

As Wolf and I drank our coffee, I read through the paper on Luke Womack again. He and two sidekicks were wanted, dead or alive, for three bank robberies and four stagecoach robberies--one of which involved a killing--all committed in the Arizona Territory.

The reward for Luke was $400. His sidekicks were worth $100 each. The rewards might increase, depending on what new trouble Luke and his boys had caused by the time we caught up with them.

Wolf and I finished our coffee, paid for our meal, and walked into the dusty street. Mac stood at the hitching rail between Wolf’s horse and our pack mule. We mounted our horses; and, leading the mule, I followed Wolf up and across the street to the mercantile. About an hour later, we rode west out of town. I still led the pack mule, but now it was loaded with a two-weeks’ supply of beans, coffee, jerked beef, and hard tack, as well as extra ammunition and two extra canteens. We had filled the canteens, and we had also tied our frying pan and coffee pot to the pack saddle. The rest of our supplies we had packed in our saddlebags.

I reckon we can reach Fort McDowell in two days, I said. Maybe someone there will know where Womack has been most recently.

And if we don’t learn anything there, said Wolf, we can ride three more days to Wickenburg to see if he’s still in town.

If Womack and his boys haven’t spent all the money from their most recent robbery, I said, we might catch them in Wickenburg.

And when we catch them? Wolf asked.

We give them the same choice everybody else gets, I said. We either take them to prison in Yuma, or we bury them in Wickenburg’s Boot Hill.

Either way, Luke should be the only Womack we’ll need to hunt, Wolf said. If we take Luke alive, some or all of the other four Womacks will come hunting us between Wickenburg and Yuma. I’d pray that they didn’t catch up with us until after we delivered Luke to prison.

Even then, I said, we’d be out in the open, and they could hit us whenever they wanted to. We’d be better off throwing Luke in the local jail and then choosing our ground for defense somewhere around Wickenburg or wherever we find Luke. Then, once we find the right place, we could wait for them to come after us, but we’d make sure they could only attack us from the front.

They might all come at the same time, Wolf said. Two of us could be going against a dozen or more of them, depending on how many men are riding with each brother. That does sound like a giant hornets’ nest to me.

It’s not too late to throw the stick on the ground and walk away, I said.

Wolf shook his head. This hornets’ nest needs to come down, he said. Let’s get a big stick and whack it hard.

One of the things that let Wolf and me work well together was a similar set of values which had guided our actions for as far back as either of us could remember. We had never discussed these values; we had probably never even mentioned them. They had just become a part of us while we were busy growing up, fighting in the war, and hunting desperados. I reckoned that what mattered most about those values was that Wolf and I both had them.

As we rode in silence toward Fort McDowell, I knew why Wolf had agreed to hunt Luke Womack and his brothers with me. Whenever I looked through wanted posters to decide who needed to be stopped next, my values determined my decision. While most bounty hunters selected their quarry based on the size of the reward offered or the potential for an easy capture, I looked at the list of laws each man had broken. If one outlaw was wanted for stealing horses while another was wanted for murder, I chose to pursue the murderer regardless of how much the reward was. I knew that if I had chosen to hunt Luke Womack for the reward, I would have been riding without Wolf.

I reckon part of our set of values concerned how Wolf and I thought about money. When I was a boy, I had heard a circuit-riding preacher say that money is the root of all evil. Later that day while we were eating dinner, my pa had quoted the verse from the Bible that says, The love of money is the root of all evil. Pa had explained that money is a tool, like a plow, a shovel, or a rifle. A man needs money to provide for himself and his family. Money isn’t good or evil any more than a gun or a shovel is.

The Bible wasn’t condemning money, but the love of money, as the root of all evil.

Wolf and I both needed money to live. We were both good at tracking, and we were both good with our guns. The Arizona Territory had too many outlaws and not enough lawmen. People would pay men like Wolf and me to bring some of the outlaws to justice. I reckoned the job was a good fit for us.

Luke Womack may be the best of that sorry family,

Wolf said.

He is, I said.

We had been watching in all directions as we rode. Wolf turned toward me and asked, Then why go after him first? In fact, why go after him at all? There are hombres a lot worse than Luke that need to be caught.

Indeed, there are, I said, and Luke’s four brothers are some of the worst. We have posters on all five of the Womacks. They’re scattered all over. Two of them are outside the Arizona Territory, or they were when last seen.

Luke looked like the easiest Womack to find, Wolf said.

He did, I said.

And you’d like to corral the entire clan? Wolf asked.

To the last man, I said.

But you don’t want to chase the other four Womacks all over the Arizona Territory, Wolf said.

Or Texas or New Mexico, I said.

Arizona Territory, Texas, or New Mexico, Wolf said. I reckon I’d rather not ride all those miles either.

Not if we can get them to come to us, I said.

No wonder I’m proud to ride with the great Nate Landry, Wolf said.

I’m obliged for your company, Pardner, I said.

The day had been hot with only a slight breeze; but when we reached the Rio Salinas, we found enough water to refill our empty canteens and to let our horses and pack mule drink. Wolf and I rinsed the dust from our faces with the warm water and then let the