The prairie heat clung to Edgewater like a fever. Marshal Reid Maddox leaned against the corral rail outside the sheriff's office, watching shadows stretch long over the dusty main street. He had taken to walking up to Boot Hill some nights just to remind himself what happened to men who forgot which way the wind blew. A hard man, he knew what folks thought of him. He wasn't long on friends.
Inside, Dr. Ellison Carr poured a second measure of whiskey. The bite in his back told him rain was coming, but he didn't speak. The man on the cot behind him was already gone. His breath had gone ragged sometime after the bullet extraction. It had been a bad shot—right through the spine.
"Shock," Carr muttered to the two men who had brought the dying man in. "That, and the bullet. Even if I'd made it sooner, wouldn't have lived more than two days."
One of the men, tall and clean-shaven, shifted. "You're awful quick to call it murder, doc."
Carr didn't look at them. "He told me what happened. Whispered it just before he went."
The younger man stepped forward. "What exactly did he say?"
"Didn't say names. Just that one of you shot him in the back when he tried to run."
Silence stretched between them.
Dr. Carr turned then. "I'm a doctor. I don't care who did it. I'm here because someone needed help."
The taller one scratched his jaw. "You recognize us?"
Carr studied him. "Might've seen you in Edgewater. Don't know your names. But I know that man." He nodded to the dead body. "Or I did. Just can't place his name yet."
"You're trying too hard, doc," the younger man said, hand near his belt. "Maybe you oughta stop."
Carr's eyes narrowed. "You threaten a doctor for doing his duty? You do that, you best finish the job. There's not another physician for a hundred miles."
The younger man looked to the older. "We can't let him go."
"He doesn't talk," the elder said. "Not if he gives his word."
Carr stared at them both. "No, I won't promise. I won't lie for you."
"You sure about that?" the young man said, his hand hovering.
Carr sighed. "You're holding all the cards, aren't you?" He looked back at the dead man. "Fine. You want my word? You have it. As a doctor, nothing more."
"Word of honor?"
"Word of honor."
"That's all I can tell you, Reid," Carr said the next morning. "And don't think it's not eating at me."
Maddox stood by the window of the doc's office, looking out over the town.
"He was shot in the back," Maddox said. "And you know who did it."
Carr folded his arms. "I don't know their names. But even if I did, I gave my word."
Deputy Caleb Rowe paced behind Maddox. "You'd protect a killer?"
"I swore an oath, Caleb. I was the only help for thirty miles. The man was dying. I had to try. That's why I went with them."
"Without telling us?"
"Time was short."
Maddox exhaled sharply. "We don't even know the name of the man who died."
Carr rubbed his temple. "He looked familiar, but the name won't come. I just…"
He turned away.
"I hope they hang for it," Carr said softly. "But that's not for me to decide."
Later that afternoon, an old rancher named Jacob Worth arrived in town, dust on his coat and fire in his eyes.
"Marshal Maddox," he said as he stepped into the office.
"Jake," Maddox greeted. "Been a while."
"Too long, probably. I don't ask for much. Never have. But this time…" He paused, voice hardening. "My youngest, Hank, didn't come back two nights ago. Next morning, I found a note on the corral fence. Said if I left twenty thousand under the big cottonwood south of town, he'd be returned."
"Did you leave the money?"
"It's there now. But I haven't heard a word. Not since."
"Let's ride out," Maddox said. "We might catch whoever's picking it up."
Worth's jaw tightened. "I didn't ask for that. I want you to keep an eye on anyone in town who suddenly starts flashing new money. That's it."
"Jake—"
"Not a word more, Marshal. Not till I see my boy safe. Or know he's gone."
The money was gone.
And so was Hank Worth.
They found his body in a dry gully behind the stump.
Maddox knelt beside him. "Shot in the back."
Worth stood frozen. "They took the money and killed him anyway."
"I think he tried to escape," Maddox said quietly.
"Who?"
"I can't say."
"You know, don't you?"
"I know someone who might. But he gave his word."
Worth's voice turned to steel. "You've got till sundown tomorrow to name him. Or me and my boys are coming into Edgewater. And there will be blood."
Twenty-four hours later, Dr. Carr stood behind the barred window of the marshal's office, coat rumpled and jaw tight.
"This is my idea," he said. "I want to do it. I've already spread the word. Folks think I broke my word and named the killers. If they're coming, they'll come tonight."
Caleb looked uneasy. "Doc, you're setting yourself up as bait."
Carr nodded. "Only way to draw them out."
"Suppose they don't take the bait?" Maddox asked.
"Then maybe I die a liar. But maybe you catch 'em instead."
Dusk came. The Worths rode into town, rifles slung low. Maddox met them in the street.
"Well, Marshal?" Worth said.
"I'm not naming him."
Worth's hand hovered near his belt.
"Go ahead," Maddox said. "Cut me down."
Worth hesitated.
Carr stepped onto the boardwalk. "You gave your word, Jake. You said you'd help him if he gave his."
Worth stared at him for a long moment. Then he handed over his shotgun.
Maddox nodded to Caleb. "Lock them up. For now."
Three nights passed.
On the fourth, the killers came.
Carr was alone in his office when the door swung open. One of them—young, nervous—limped in with a bloodied arm.
"You said you wouldn't tell!" he barked.
Carr grabbed his bag. "You're bleeding. Sit down or bleed out."
Footsteps creaked outside.
"They're waiting for me out front," Carr said as Maddox slipped in through the back.
Caleb, rifle in hand, crouched by the door. "Saw 'em ride in. Thought you could use the help."
Gunfire erupted in the street. It was over in moments. One dead. One wounded. One taken alive.
Two days later, Jake Worth stood beside the fresh grave outside Edgewater. Maddox stood with him.
"Thank you," Jake said. "For doing it your way. Not mine."
Maddox nodded. "You still owe me that drink."
Jake smiled faintly. "How 'bout we make it two?"
From across the street, Dr. Carr waved them off. "Go on. I've got a dozen patients waiting. And two bodies to sign off. I'll drink when I'm dead."
Maddox laughed. "He's probably right."
But for the first time in weeks, the marshal felt like he had a friend again.