All Scott wanted to do was sleep. The posse got back to town without catching the outlaws. Head, Leonard and Crane had led them on a merry chase throughout the countryside and they were never able to catch up with them. They had ridden so hard one of the horses died. They were tired, they were thirsty, they were sore, and they had simply given up. On their return, the Earps had received even more had news. Luther King, the prisoner they had taken back at the Redfield ranch, had managed to escape.
The whole thing was ludicrous. He had simply stepped out the back door of the jail while the deputy was engaged in selling his horse. Accusations were flying back and forth. The Earps were convinced that Behan and his deputies, being involved with the rustlers, had simply allowed him to escape. Which certainly seemed likely. Behan and his men were claiming that King had help, that Doc Holliday had been waiting behind the jail with two horses and had spirited King away.
Holliday, conveniently, had been out of town when the stage was robbed and the posse left. He was known to have been acquainted with one of the outlaws befor
e, Bill Leonard, when the two men were in Las Vegas, New Mexico. On the strength of that association, Behan and others in his faction were claiming that Doc had been involved in the robbery and had helped King to escape. (Though no one explained how Holliday knew that King would have a chance to simply stroll out through the back door of the jail while the deputy’s back was turned, or why he hadn’t been locked up in the first place. Behan was even spreading rumors that Wyatt Earp and his brothers had been involved in the robbery, tipped off by
Morgan, who, in his capacity as a Wells Fargo guard, would know when silver shipments were going out. The town was becoming polarized, with the hostility between the factions rapidly growing worse.
Scott wished that Priest and the other, would show up. He couldn’t understand what was keeping them. He felt certain now that the Network was behind it all, but he couldn’t take them on all by himself. That would be crazy. He felt exposed and vulnerable. He felt the situation was completely out of his control.
There was a soft knock at his door. He quickly grabbed a gun from the holster rig he’d hung up on the bedpost.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Jenny. Scott. Can I come in?
He opened the door. She was alone. She saw the gun and her eyes grew wide.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
“I had to be sure you were alone.” said Scott.
“Who did you think might have been with me?”
“Well, I did make some enemies in this town.” he replied. “Man can’t be too careful.” He closed the door behind her and eased the hammer down on the Colt.
“Did you really think I’d be part of anything like that?”
“You might have had no choice, Jenny. Someone might have been holding a gun on you, or a knife.”
“That wouldn’t make any difference.” she said. “They’d have to kill me before I’d go along with doing anything to hurt you.” She suddenly started crying.
“Jenny! What’s wrong?”
“Hold me, Scott.”
He put his arms around her. She was trembling.
“What’s wrong, Jenny?” he asked, with concern. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“Everything’s wrong,” she sobbed. “I wish I were dead!”
“Jenny!” She was holding onto him as if for dear life. “What is it? Tell me! Is it something I’ve done?”
She shook her head. “No.” she said, quietly. “It isn’t anything you’ve done. It’s me.”
He took her over to the bed and sat down with her. He took her hands in his.
“Whatever it is, Jenny, you can tell me. I’ll understand.”
“I don’t think you would.” she said.
“Try me. At least give me a chance. If there’s anything I can do to help, you know I will.”
“I don’t think anyone can help me.” she replied, sniffling.
He kissed her “If I possibly can, I will. I love you, Jenny.”