Benedict and Brazos 11: Never Ride West

By E. Jefferson Clay

As a favor to his father, Duke Benedict took on the job of bodyguard to Governor Sherwood Garfield. The territory was still raw, and the cattlemen who had claimed most of the surrounding land were determined to fight Garfield’s Settler’s Act, which would effectively open it up to homesteaders looking to start a new life.
Benedict’s partner, big Hank Brazos, was kept busy as well, organizing the territorial militia ... a thankless task that carried risks all of its own.
But that was as nothing to the dangers that faced them when a hulking gunfighter named Honder was given a thousand dollars to kill Benedict ... and a further five thousand to assassinate the man Benedict had been charged to protect!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Piccadilly
• Release date: Mar 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215208700

Book preview

One – Big Gun from Fort Such

Just how good are you with that gun, Honder?

Good enough.

Good enough to kill Benedict?

Duke Benedict?

That’s the party.

I can beat any man alive.

Then you’re hired. What’s your price?

For anybody else, five hundred. For Benedict, a grand.

That’s a hell of a lot of money.

For Duke Benedict it’s cheap.

All right, I won’t quibble. He’s at the Capital riding bodyguard on the governor. When can you leave?

Tomorrow.

Good. Here’s five hundred down. I’ll give you the other five in the Capital when it’s over.

Done.

You’re a strange one, Honder. You take a job to go against one of the fastest men in the southwest and you don’t even want to know who’s hiring you.

I don’t need to know.

Hank Brazos strode into the office of the governor’s adjutant looking like the dogs had had him under the house. His purple shirt was ripped, he was coated in dust, and there was a lump the size of a pigeon egg on his forehead.

Where’s Benedict? he barked, and the chubby little adjutant jumped. There had been a lot of nervous jumping going on around the governor’s residence since the giant Texan and his partner Benedict had arrived two weeks ago.

He’s in with the governor, Mr. Brazos, Clarence Carp said. I’m afraid they’re in conference.

Yeah? Brazos strode for the big oak-paneled door. Well, I’m gonna give ’em somethin’ extry to be in conference about.

The adjutant blanched. Nobody went into the governor’s office unannounced. But Carp didn’t move. The last time he’d attempted to keep Hank Brazos from doing something he’d had his mind set on, he’d had his nose tweaked.

The two tall men who stood by the window in the governor’s office turned sharply as Brazos entered. He ranged up to the big desk and plonked his hat on its highly polished surface.

What’s the trouble? the governor asked.

Your lousy First Territorial Militia is the trouble, Governor, Brazos grated. I’m quittin’.

The governor started to reply, but Duke Benedict held up his hand. I’ve had experience in soothing his ruffled feathers before, Governor, Benedict said.

He moved to the desk, a tall, almost too-handsome man in a white silk shirt and Prince Albert vest. He smiled, showing perfect teeth. Now what’s the trouble this time, Reb? Those boys of yours fire their guns at the wrong time again?

In view of Brazos’ obviously foul mood, that was hardly a tactful remark. Three days ago, during rifle drill, a trooper’s rifle had gone off, punched a hole through the big Texan’s hat brim and stampeded a dozen horses into Independence Square. Brazos had tried to quit that day, too.

Brazos glowered, his craggy, sun-bronzed young face ferocious under a shock of bright yellow hair. No, they goddamned didn’t, he barked. That was one of their good days. You want to know their latest trick? You reckon you’re ready for it?

Of course. I mean, the governor and I were only discussing trivia like the Settlers’ Act and the drought. I’m sure these matters pale to insignificance when compared with your problems.

The Texan was too steamed up to even recognize sarcasm, let alone react to it. Vincent! he spat, jerking a big thumb over his shoulder. Trooper Dinny goddamn Vincent! I had those chocolate soldiers down to the supply shed tryin’ to teach ’em how to load that rusty old cannon. No smokin’, I tell ’em a dozen times. But that doesn’t suit Vincent. No, he’s got to forget and light up. He drops the match in a heap of black powder. He had the whole blue-eyed storeroom to drop it in, and he picks on the powder.

So? Duke Benedict said. The gunpowder supply obviously didn’t go up or we’d be shy one troop of militia. What happened?

The heap of powder went up in a flash and those brave idjuts you’re expectin’ me to turn into soldiers screamed like pigs at killin’ time and rushed for the door. He paused to give emphasis to the clincher. I was standin’ in the doorway.

Governor Sherwood Garfield was not a man much given to smiling, but he had to cover his mouth with his hand and turn away.

But Benedict made no attempt to conceal his grin as he said, Is that all? I thought for a moment that it was something serious!

Brazos’ jaw fell open. You don’t reckon that’s serious? Here I am out there sloggin’ ten hours a day tryin’ to make somethin’ out of that rag-tag-and-bobtail bunch of losers while you’re sashayin’ around up here dressed like a Mexican pimp! I get stomped on and tromped under and I’m lucky I wasn’t blown to Kingdom Come—and you got the everlastin’ gall to set there and say it ain’t serious!

I’m sorry, Benedict said quickly, forcing his features to go solemn. I can see you’re all steamed up, Reb, and obviously not without reason. But try to look at it calmly. It could have been a lot worse. Those fellows are raw, but they’re willing, and you knew when you took on the job that it wouldn’t be easy ...

When I took on the job? Brazos cut in. You mean when you palmed it onto me, don’t you? Look, joker, when you put it to me that you and me ought come give the governor a hand on account of he was an old pard of your pa’s and suchlike, I said all right—just like that. I mean Rangle’s trail was cold, the governor needed help plain as paint, and it seemed a good idea. But, joker, you never said nothin’ to me about what I was lettin’ myself in for with them ... them ...

The search for a suitable euphemism eluded him for the moment, and, as he hunted for it, the governor broke in.

Hank, before you go any further, I want you to know that I realize the enormity of the task I set for you when I asked you to organize a Territorial Militia. It was a task I’d assigned to three men before you and Duke came to the Capital, and those three men failed woefully. But you haven’t failed. You might think you have, particularly when things go wrong as they have today. But when I reviewed your troops yesterday, I saw immediately just how much real progress you’ve made. At long last they’re beginning to look like a genuine military unit, and it’s due entirely to your efforts. Now, while I appreciate your disappointment at this moment, I want you to reconsider what you said about resigning. Hank, the job you are doing for me is as important as any in the Territory. It’s essential that I have a militia force to act as a deterrent against lawlessness, and I’m convinced you’re the only man who can give me one. Now, what do you say? Will you try it just once more? For me?

Duke Benedict was impressed. It took real skill to spike Hank Brazos’ guns when his blood was up, but the governor had managed it. He saw the indignation wash from the Texan’s rugged features as Garfield spoke, and the battle light had completely left Brazos’ blue eyes as he met the governor’s sober stare.

Well, shucks, when you put it that way, Governor, Brazos said slowly. I mean ...

Garfield walked around the desk and placed his right hand on Brazos’ shoulder. The governor was a tall ramrod of a man, but beside the Texan he looked almost frail. Give it another try, Hank. I’ll have a talk with the men tonight and tell them that though I’m happy with the way they’re progressing, I expect them to make an even greater effort to reach the standards you set. Do you think that might do it?

Brazos looked a little sheepish. It’ll help. He flashed a grin at Benedict. What the hell. I’ve been puttin’ up with this dude here for a long time. I reckon that if a man can do that, handlin’ a pack of clabber-footed chocolate soldiers shouldn’t throw him. He fingered the lump on his forehead, then reached for his hat. Sure, I’ll give it another try, Governor. Matter of fact, I’ll whip that bunch into shape if it’s the last thing I do.

Good man, Hank, Garfield said enthusiastically. I knew I could count on you.

Buy you a drink at the Riata tonight? Benedict said as Brazos turned to go.

Sure. I’ll drink with anybody who buys.

He went out and the governor smiled.

He’s a good man, Duke, a very good man.

He’s all right.

The governor looked at him keenly. There it is again, Duke.

What, Governor?

Garfield walked around the desk and leaned against the window frame with his arms folded across his chest. That reluctance on your part to say anything complimentary about your friend Brazos. Ever since you came here with Hank, I’ve been aware of this underlying note of friction between you two and it puzzles me.

Why should it, Governor? I think you’d be first to admit that Hank Brazos and I are about as like as night and day.

Of course. You’re the son of a wealthy Boston banker, a Harvard graduate and an ex-captain in the Union Army, while Hank is an illiterate Texan and an ex-sergeant in the Confederacy. You’re about as different as two men can be—and there lies my confusion. From what little you’ve told me about you and Brazos, I know that you’re partners and have been for some considerable time. Somehow I suspect that, despite the verbal sniping that goes on between you, each of you holds the other in high esteem. Do you feel like telling me a little more about yourselves? Just as a sop to my curiosity?

Benedict started to reply, then fell silent, a shadow falling across his face as his mind went clicking back to a place called Pea Ridge, Georgia. It had been a crimson place in a world gone mad with war, where forces of Confederate and Union troops tore each other to pieces in a terrible battle for a wagonload of Confederate gold, only to have the gold snatched away by the infamous marauders known as Rangle’s Raiders ... leaving