The Valeron Code

  The Valeron Code

  The Valeron code was simple: ‘Trust in the Lord, but keep a gun handy.’ And when it came to harming one of them or their family, they had but one commandment: ‘Thou shalt not get away with it’!

  Rodney (Lightning Rod) Mason had a habit of getting involved in other people’s problems. So when a banker hires him to help his sister, it seems just another job. But Rod finds more than he bargained for in Deliverance, Colorado. The opposition is ruthless and the victim is someone who can change his world.

  When an ambush leaves Rod vulnerable and unable to fight back, word is sent to his brother and cousins. Within hours, Wyatt and Jared Valeron are dispatched to aid their kin. The odds against them mount, but a Valeron doesn’t know how to quit. A final showdown will decide who lives, who dies . . . and how the Valeron family code works.

  By the same author

  Dead Man’s Canyon

  Garrett’s Trail to Justice

  High Bounty at Wayward

  Hard Trail to Breakneck Pass

  The Valeron Code

  Terrell L. Bowers

  ROBERT HALE

  © Terrell L. Bowers 2016

  First published in Great Britain 2016

  ISBN 978-0-7198-2187-5

  The Crowood Press

  The Stable Block

  Crowood Lane

  Ramsbury

  Marlborough

  Wiltshire SN8 2HR

  www.bhwesterns.com

  Robert Hale is an imprint of The Crowood Press

  The right of Terrell L. Bowers to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him

  in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  Chapter One

  Tommy Smith, although only seventeen, held his ground, as Lynette Brooks stood at his side. The pair of men facing them were Sandoval and Connor, two toughs who worked for Mayor Lafferty. The mayor was in cahoots with Rutherford and Gilmore, the banker and saloon owner, who pretty much controlled everything that happened in Deliverance, Colorado.

  ‘You’ve been printing some unflattering things in your news rag, woman,’ Sandoval threw out the accusation. ‘Casting slanderous attacks against our law-abiding citizenry don’t look good to the people passing through. Some potential buyers of business property or farmland might be put off by your writing. Can’t have you destroying the reputation of our fair town.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Connor joined in. ‘Name calling is a crime.’

  ‘It’s only slander when it isn’t the truth,’ Lynette countered.

  Connor frowned, uncertain what slander meant. He looked at his partner for assistance, as he was the brighter of the two.

  ‘You think, because you’re wearing a skirt, we won’t teach you a lesson,’ Sandoval sneered. ‘Well, you best be thinking again.’

  ‘You tell her, pard.’

  ‘Bet you’d look real purty dressed in a coat of hot tar with a feather overcoat,’ the menacing Sandoval continued. ‘I knew a feller who had that done to him – took a month before he got all the black off. He lost most of his hide getting the chore done.’

  Tommy anchored his jaw, speaking through clenched teeth. ‘What kind of men are you, threatening a genteel woman and editor of the town’s newspaper?’

  ‘We’re the kind who sets down the rules and enforces the law!’ Sandoval declared. ‘You’d best keep your trap shut, pup . . . or we’ll close it for you.’

  Lynette fumed. ‘How dare you threaten my assistant. You are nothing more than hired bullies for Harve Rutherford and his partners in crime. I intend to print the truth about you – all of you!’

  ‘Then you’re gonna do it without any help,’ Sandoval jeered. Aggressively, he shoved Tommy hard enough that the youth backed up several steps. Before he could catch his balance, the man strode forward and clouted him hard alongside the head. The sudden punch stunned Tommy and he had no chance to defend himself.

  Lynette screamed at him to stop as Connor joined in. The two men began to hit Tommy from either side. Rushing forward, Lynette grabbed hold of Connor’s arm, but he whirled about and shoved her to the ground. Tommy was pummelled unmercifully until he collapsed in a heap. Lying helpless and dazed, Sandoval kicked him in the ribs. Lynette scrambled to her feet as both assailants kicked Tommy several times.

  Frantic to stop the beating, Lynette pushed between the two men and dropped to her knees. She threw her arms around Tommy to protect him from the two vicious goons. Her action stopped the attack, but Sandoval spat a stream of tobacco juice on to the ground next to her.

  ‘Write about this in your newspaper,’ Sandoval growled, hovering over her, ‘and we’ll be back to finish this!’

  ‘Like my pal says,’ Connor confirmed.

  ‘You’re both animals!’ Lynette cried. ‘Disgusting, inhuman animals!’

  Sandoval chuckled at her outburst, but was deadly serious when he spoke again.

  ‘You best listen to what we’re telling you, you ink-slinging troublemaker! If you want to keep printing your newspaper, you’ll start writing stories that Mayor Lafferty and our other prominent citizens like to read. Otherwise, female or not, we’re gonna ride you out of town on a rail!’

  Lynette grabbed Tommy under his armpits and helped him to stand up. He managed the feat with a Herculean effort, but was barely conscious. He folded at the middle and spat out a mouthful of blood. Unable to maintain his balance, he sagged heavily against her.

  ‘You two cowards are the ones who deserve to be tarred and feathered!’ she avowed.

  Sandoval raised a hand to dismiss her protest. ‘Heed what we say, woman. Next time it will be more than a bruise or two.’

  ‘I’m taking Tommy to Doctor Wight. If you’ve seriously hurt him, I’ll see you both behind bars!’

  The bully ignored her feeble threat and tugged on Connor’s arm. ‘Let’s go get some coffee and a fresh roll at the bakery. These here law-officer-type chores sure do work up an appetite.’

  The two of them laughed and sauntered up the street.

  Lynette helped Tommy stagger to the doctor’s office. Of all the people in Deliverance, the doctor was clinically unbiased, treating every person in town as a potential patient.

  Appraising the youth’s bruised and bleeding face, she grit her teeth and seethed with rancor. What could a lone woman do against a town full of tyrants and ruffians? Her parents were dead and her only brother worked in a bank back in Nebraska. She had invested every dime she had in a Washington Hand Press and printing equipment so she could start her own newspaper. The sales, subscribers and advertising earned her enough to get by . . . or had, until Rutherford and his band of coyotes came to town. Within a few months, they had assumed the bank, the main saloon and manoeuvred to gain control of nearly every business in town. The bank also held deeds on most of the nearby farms and small ranches. Her telling the truth about the malignant tyrant, Rutherford, and his henchmen had earned her powerful enemies and a steep rise in the rent for her office and one room apartment. She wanted to fight the good fight, to be a spokesperson for the downtrodden populace, but she was nearly broke and had no way to physically combat these men. How could she continue to print the truth without some kind of help or assistance?

  Rodney Mason sat on the inside of his cell, playing a game of checkers with the town deputy. He and the lawman were friends, but an altercation between Mason and a couple of hunters had landed him in jail. It was his move when the door to the sheriff’s office opened.

  A bespectacled young man, likely in his early twenties, entered the room. He was dressed like a dude stumping for an election to office, complete with a city-slicker tie and ruffled white shirt. He was lean of build and stood about five-and-a-half feet tall, not incl
uding the funny-looking derby hat atop his neatly-shorn head.

  ‘I’m Richard Brooks,’ he announced. ‘Marshal Konrad Ellington said I could find a man by the name of Rod Mason here.’

  ‘You’ve found him,’ the deputy said, standing up to meet the fellow.

  ‘You’re Mason?’

  The deputy hooked his thumb at the prisoner. ‘He is.’

  Richard’s jaw dropped at the news. He stared at the two of them, perplexed, before asking the obvious question. ‘He’s a prisoner?’

  ‘Happens sometimes when you have a strict judge,’ the deputy replied. ‘You want a word with him? He sure ain’t going nowhere.’

  The young fellow shook his head. ‘But I need his help! Marshal Ellington said he was the best man for the job.’

  ‘Speak up, buster,’ Mason growled. ‘I’ve got the deputy backed up for the kill here. You best not be spoiling my game unless this is durned important.’

  ‘It is!’ Richard declared. ‘My sister’s newspaper is in dire trouble. The rent for her building has doubled over the past few months, there are unwarranted taxes strangling the citizens, and her apprentice was beaten almost to death last week. The culprits are several tyrants and a couple of rowdy town bullies who run the law! It is my duty as her brother to help her resolve the situation.’

  ‘And Konrad sent you to find me?’

  ‘He said you were the best man for the job,’ he repeated. Then, with a queer look, ‘He didn’t say you were a convict serving time.’

  The deputy moved the table and checkerboard, then used his foot to shove the chair toward the newcomer. ‘Here you go, young fella,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a couple chores to do. I’ll leave the two of you alone for a few minutes.’ Then with a smirk at Mason, ‘We’ll call the game a draw.’

  Mason glowered at the newcomer. ‘Thanks, buster. You just cost me two bits!’

  Richard took a long look at Mason. He saw a rather large-boned man – six-foot tall, a sturdy 190 pounds, with a battle-worn face and flinty eyes that bore the history of many conflicts. Unshaven for at least a week, with unruly hair that nearly reached his shoulders, the man in the cell looked more a wild man than an infrequent deputy US Marshal.

  ‘Marshal Ellington said you are known as “Lightning Rod” Mason,’ Richard said at length.

  ‘Was a time in my youth when I was accused of having a short fuse,’ he replied. ‘The nickname kind of stuck.’

  ‘Marshal Ellington also said you are very good with a gun.’

  ‘There’s been times I was forced to defend myself during a lively exchange.’

  ‘And Marshal Ellington said you once engaged in pugilism for a living.’

  ‘Only fought in the ring for a short while.’ Mason shrugged. ‘Man gets hungry, he does whatever it takes to earn a meal.’ Then with a scowl: ‘Anything else Marshal Ellington had to say?’

  Richard flinched, but smiled weakly. He pulled the chair closer to the cell and sat down astraddle. ‘Did I mention he said you were the best man for the task ahead?’

  ‘Yeah, I heard that part. What kind of task?’

  ‘I want you to teach me how to defend myself.’

  Mason frowned. ‘Defend yourself? From whom?’

  Richard related the story of how a despot was harassing his sister and two men had beaten her assistant so badly that he nearly died from the injuries. He said the place was Deliverance, Colorado, and several men had showed up a few months back and took over the town. The main culprit now owned the bank; a second ended up with the primary saloon; and the third took over as mayor. The mayor also had a couple toughs who ran roughshod over everyone in the valley. According to her letter, the trio was taxing the populace to poverty and were about to run her out of business. Next he explained what he wanted.

  After listening to his tale, Mason shook his head. ‘So you expect me to teach you to fight so you can go make things right for your sister?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll need to apprehend the men responsible for the attack on her printer’s apprentice and turn them over to the US Marshal.’

  ‘After that, I suspect you intend to help your sister run her newspaper?’

  ‘Oh, heavens no!’ He puffed up his chest like a bantam rooster. ‘I’m vice president at the Merchants’ Bank of Omaha. I took a leave of absence for thirty days to deal with this issue.’

  Mason laughed. ‘Thirty days? I couldn’t make a fighting man out of you in a single month.’

  Richard skewed his expression. ‘You misunderstand. I must be back at my desk and working within the time frame – twenty-five days, actually. It’s taken me nearly a week to find my way here.’

  ‘It’s a couple of days’ ride to Deliverance. When you allow for your return to Omaha, you haven’t got but a mere two weeks.’

  ‘Well, I allowed for one week of training and another week to settle things for my sister.’

  Richard did not hide his amazement. ‘Got to hand it to you, buster, you don’t lack for confidence.’

  ‘When can you start?’

  ‘I didn’t say I’d take the job.’

  ‘Marshal Ellington assured me that you would have his full support. Plus, I will give you a hundred dollars for the training and pay your fine so you can get out of here.’

  Mason groaned. ‘Did you tell Konrad your plans? I mean the part about you learning to fight so you could clean up a crooked town all by yourself?’

  ‘Not in so many words,’ Richard admitted. ‘I told him the situation and he suggested I find you.’

  ‘Good old Konrad,’ Mason said dryly. He expects I’ll wet nurse this babe in the wilderness, then go and maybe get myself killed trying to help him. Strange, I thought we were friends.

  Lynette was busy setting print when the door opened. She looked over her shoulder and ceased working. Dealer Gilmore was standing there, his moderately handsome face displaying both warmth and yearning.

  ‘You’re an amazing woman, Lynn,’ he opened the conversation. Disregarding her dislike of the use of the pet name, he sedately continued. ‘Your apprentice gets busted up and you proceed without so much as a deep breath.’

  ‘I suppose you came to gloat about how your two brutes managed to beat up a boy half their age and size!’

  ‘Actually, that was Rutherford’s doing,’ Dealer replied, continuing to eye her like a prize heifer at an auction. ‘I spoke to him about the incident with your assistant and would like to square things so you don’t go broke.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. Harve agreed to let you skip the rent this month.’ Dealer shrugged. ‘Seems you are three weeks behind already.’

  ‘That’s very generous of him . . . considering he has upped the rent to double what I was paying since he took control of the bank.’

  ‘There are better and safer ways to make a living,’ Dealer said. ‘All you have to do is stop maligning those of us who moved here a few months back.’

  ‘You mean to stop printing the truth about a bunch of scavengers who moved in and took over a wonderful little settlement? Who then turned it into a hostile environment where you control everyone and everything?’

  ‘Every town is regulated by a few of its citizens. This is no different.’

  ‘What happened to the banker, Mr Walters?’ she questioned him. ‘And how did you convince Mr McDowell to sell you his saloon?’

  Dealer grinned. ‘They saw no future in staying here. We paid them handsomely to search for greener pastures elsewhere.’

  ‘And the new taxes and higher interest rates? I would think you make enough money fleecing drunks and gamblers without taking every cent the rest of us earn.’

  ‘Gotta have civic improvements,’ he said easily. ‘And Harve has to make a profit to keep the bank in operation.’

  ‘I’m sure he can barely scrape by, charging twenty-five to thirty per cent on his loans!’

  ‘It’s only business.’ Another smirk. ‘We do the best we can.’ Before she could continue the debate, Dealer drew o
ut a wad of bills from his pocket. He peeled off a couple and tossed them on to the counter. ‘Here’s thirty dollars to cover the loss of your help for the past couple weeks.’ He winked at her. ‘Take some time and think about your situation.’

  ‘You mean my opposition to you and your dictator partner?’

  Dealer relaxed his posture. ‘You’re an intelligent, fine looking woman, Lynn. Once you decide to stop fighting us, you and I could have something special together.’

  ‘Special? You mean like sharing a bout of cholera or smallpox?’

  He laughed. ‘If you were my girl, I’d help your newspaper grow. How’d you like to have a readership that covered the whole county? Maybe even develop a following in a few of the larger cities?’

  ‘All it takes is the filthy money earned at the expense of honest people you men have driven out of business or from their homes.’

  His lips curled in a sly grin. ‘You keep throwing out accusations you can’t prove. We’ve done nothing illegal.’

  ‘Because you scare everyone off with your gunmen. Those who try to fight you end up dead or like Tommy – isn’t that what you mean?’

  ‘I’m saying you needn’t risk losing your business. Cooperate. Allow me to come courting. It would make everything so much better . . . for you and your newspaper.’

  ‘It’s very gracious of you to worry about my future.’

  ‘I’m concerned for your safety as well,’ he said, doing little to conceal a threat. ‘Harve will only take so much before he strikes back.’

  ‘You claim that you and Mr Rutherford don’t break the law,’ she countered fiercely. ‘So why should I fear him?’

  ‘The mayor and judge have denounced your articles as propaganda against the growth and well-being of our fair city. A newspaper can’t survive without selling what they write to customers.’

  ‘So now you threaten the youngsters who sell my papers on the street?’