Chapter 47
Bob McCloud, sheriff of Willow Crick, heard something in the back of the jail, and he stalked over to glare through the door that led to the cells. The wagon master had been taken out about half an hour earlier, so only two prisoners were left there. One lounged on the top bunk, while the other sat stiffly on the lower one…well, he would too if he was facing a noose.
“What’s going on?” he snarled. Nothing like making his power known.
“Nothing.”
He glared at them and turned back to his office. He was the sheriff, goddammit, not some glorified nanny. He should be down at the livery stable watching the interfering nuisance of a wagon master get the tar whaled out of him. Bob had handpicked Asa, Cal, and Luke to do Horace Weatherford’s dirty work. They enjoyed it, and Bob and Or
