A Frontier Christmas by William W. Johnstone Page A

Guthrie by the arm and led her outside, as well.
    â€œOh, Duff,” Meagan said quietly, as she put her hand on his arm again. “What a terrible thing she is about to learn.”
    The curiosity was palpable as people asked each other for an interpretation of the strange actions.
    Marshal Craig returned to the room alone. Under the curious and watchful eyes of all present, he stepped to the lectern from which the mayor was expected to say a few remarks after the dinner. Though nobody as yet knew why, there was a dread certainty that the mayor would not be returning. Marshal Craig held up his hands to call for attention.
    â€œWhat? Do you mean we’re going to have to listen to both of you make a speech?” someone asked, but his joke died.
    Marshal Craig looked at him, not critically, but with a solemn expression on his face. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have some very sad news to report.”
    All fidgeting stopped as everyone paid very close attention to what the marshal was about to say.
    â€œWe have just received word that the mayor’s son, John Guthrie, who I think most of you know—he lives near Rawhide Buttes—has, along with his entire family, been murdered.”
    â€œWhat?” Curly Latham shouted. “Russell, that can’t be true!”
    â€œI’m afraid it is true,” Marshal Craig said. “I would like to ask all of you to bow your heads for a moment of silence. Afterward, those of you who haven’t eaten your dinner, and wish to do so, may remain until you have finished. But all other activities are cancelled.”
    All bowed their heads for a moment of silence until Marshal Craig said, “Amen.”
    â€œMarshal Craig, what can we do?” someone called as Craig walked away from the lectern.
    â€œYou can pray for the mayor.”
    â€œWhat about the funeral? Don’t you think it might be a good idea if we got up a whole group of people who want to go, and all of us go over together?” asked Jason McKnight, one of the partners of McKnight-Keaton Shipping.
    â€œYes,” Marshal Craig said. “I think that would be a very good idea. You think you could organize it?”
    â€œI suppose I could.”
    â€œJason, if you need any help, I’d be glad to do what I can,” Fred Matthews said.
    â€œThanks. We can start right here. Ever’one who thinks they’ll be goin’ to the funeral, leave your name with me or Fred Matthews.”
    â€œWhere did the mayor go?” someone asked. “I’d like to tell him how sorry I am.”
    â€œHe went home with his wife,” Marshal Craig said. “He begged to be left alone for the rest of the night.”
    â€œYes, of course. We should leave him alone.”
    Meagan had not let go of Duff’s arm, and she squeezed it tightly. Duff looked at her. She was crying quietly. He put his arm around her and pulled her to him.
    â€œOh, Duff. This is awful. This is so awful.”
    â€œYes,” Duff agreed. “I wonder who did it.”
    â€œThere’s no telling, I suppose.”
    â€œWhoever it is, he needs to pay for his crime.”
    â€œHe will. If not in this world, when he meets God,” Meagan said.
    â€œI would like to arrange that meeting for him.”
    â€œDuff, what do you mean? That’s a job for the law, not for a rancher.”
    â€œR.W. is a friend of mine, Meagan. Can you imagine how hurt he is with this happening so close to Christmas? I want the guilty person or persons brought to justice.”
    â€œThat won’t bring his family back, Duff.”
    â€œNo, but it might bring him some personal satisfaction.”
    â€œYou’re going to do this, aren’t you? You are going to go looking for who did it.”
    â€œI’m seriously thinking about it,” Duff admitted.
    â€œYou will go to the funeral, won’t you?” Meagan asked.
    â€œAye, I’ll go to the funeral,” Duff