No Church in the Wild (1/??)
No Church in the Wild (1/??)
Pairings: USUK
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is an upper class business owner from New Bedford, MA who is heading west to find a murderous convict, when he runs into a cowboy by the name of Alfred F. Jones. The man offers to help Arthur travel through the Wild West and find the killer. Can Arthur Kirkland deal with this wild and rugged Cowboy? And what are these strange feeling he is developing for this adventurous young man?
Rating: T for now, but maybe M later on.
Warnings: Murder, death, grieving, language
A/N: This fic takes place in the 1880’s during Industrialization and Western Expansion. Most of the fic will be dealing with the mythical Wild West and the dangers that linger there.
"You can find meanness in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything. Make a machine. And a machine to make the machine. And evil that can run itself a thousand years, no need to tend to it."
Excerpt from Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy
Chapter 1
Arthur Kirkland looked around the small dining room - the atmosphere was just perfect. The room was filled with a slight smoky aroma from the corner fireplace. The room was dimly lit by the fire and the candle neatly arranged on the table. The table looked beautiful with the fine china and arrangements of roses and babies breathe in the center. Normally, the table would be adorned with modest silverware and tableware, but tonight was special - it was his mother, Abigail's birthday. Arthur had the family cook prepare a special dinner for the occasion. He wanted to give his mother the best birthday ever, for it was the first one she would spend without her husband. Arthur's father passed away about six months ago after a horrible battle with tuberculosis. They had the best doctors in New England try and save him, but none of them were able to save him. After his father's passing, Arthur had to step up and take on his father's responsibilities. He worked tirelessly for the past several months to fill his father's shoes and take care of his mother, but today he just wanted to enjoy the evening and celebrate.
Arthur took a sip from his wine glass and glanced over at his mother. Her sandy blond hair was pinned up in a bun, while she was wearing a lovely dark green evening dress with white lace frill around the neck and sleeve cuffs. She was quite pretty, even in her older years. She was also the sweetest lady Arthur had ever known. Arthur placed his wine glass on the table and gave her a warm smile.
"How are you enjoying the meal mother?"
Abigail paused between bites of her meal.
"It's wonderful, dear. You didn't have to do all this for me."
"Nonsense mother, I hardly feel that I have done enough."
Abigail smiled. Arthur has always treated her way too kindly. Ever since he was little, she knew that Arthur would always be her precious, little boy. As he grew up, he would give her gifts and demand her attention. When he was small, he would spend hours sitting and chatting with his mother when he could have spent time playing with his brothers or other boys his age, but Arthur never seemed to mind spending time with his mother.
"How is everything at the factory, son?" Abigail asked.
After his father's passing, Arthur took control of his father's textile factory. He always knew that he would take over since the rest of his brothers went off to Boston and New York City as they grew older. Arthur was different; he stayed in New Bedford and worked at the textile factory for his father.
"Everything is fine mother, just the normal frustrations: machinery breaking down, rushing to get orders ready for shipping. Nothing new."
"I know it was hard to get use to at first Arthur, dear, but you've come along way and the factory is doing better than ever."
"Yes, I guess you can say that. It has been a long road, but you really can give the credit to the continuous growth of this country and the recent expansion of the railroad system. Now that the railroads are moving west, we are shipping out further than ever before."
"Still, you are doing great Arthur, and I'm really proud of you."
"Stop it mother, it's not that impressive."
"It's still a shame that you haven't found a bride to marry. It's hard to believe that a handsome, affluent young man like yourself hasn't found a nice young lady to court."
"Mother-"
"You know, your father's old friend David Smith, the one who owns the whaling ship, has a young daughter named Meredith, who is very pretty and-"
"Mother, that's enough. I will eventually find myself a wonderful bride. Don't worry. For now though, let's just enjoy the evening with this wonderful dinner, and the chef is preparing a delightful dessert."
"Okay dear, I just want the best for you, that's all."
"I know mother, I know."
Arthur loved his mother, but it became a tad frustrating when she voiced her desire to be a grandmother. He just never felt anything for the girls he met, they just-well, they just didn't interest him at all. He was hoping eventually the one would walk through the door, but until then, he would be content being a bachelor. He was in no rush to be a husband.
Arthur decided when the conversation shifted to happier and less sensitive topics, it was time to pull out the small, velvet box he had been hiding under the table all dinner.
"Mother, it took me some time to figure out what would be a proper gift to give you, but I decided that this would suffice."
Arthur placed the box on the table in front of his mother.
His mother gasped at the sight of the small, velvet box. There is only one thing that can be in a box like that.
She picked up the velvet box and carefully opened the lid. Inside was a small, beautiful ring with a red ruby and diamonds encrusted around the gemstone. The band was gold with a message inscribed on the inside that read, To my beloved mother. Abigail stared in shock, it was so beautiful and luxurious. Without realizing it, tears started to stream down her face.
Arthur was surprised by the sudden tears and started to comfort his mother.
"Now, now mother, it's alright. I wanted to give you something really nice. You don't have to cry."
"Arthur, this is too much. You shouldn't have gotten this for me. I would have been content with a new tea set or-"
"Mother, I wanted to get you something special for once. In past birthdays, I have gotten you tea sets, shoes, and other assorted trinkets, but I have never given you something that really shows how much I care. After dad's passing, I felt that I needed to show you how much I appreciate you and what you have done for me as my mother. You have raised me into a fine young man and I couldn't ask for anything else. What you have done for me is worth more than this ring ever could."
With that sentiment, Abigail couldn't hold back the tears any longer. She got up from her seat and gave her son the biggest hug she could muster. Arthur chuckled and hugged his mother back. She really was the nicest woman he had ever met, and probably ever will.
Arthur looked over the papers in front of him one more time. The budgets were taking way too long, but he had to make sure that everything was perfect. One of the reasons he was so successful was because of the way he managed the budgets for the factory. There was no room to splurge on expenses, and the less money spent was more money earned. After the final glance over, Arthur placed his quill back on his desk. He took out his pocket watch. It was 9:00 PM. He had spent way too much time on paperwork today. He needed to leave and soon. He picked up his coat and hat, and then exited his office.
Once out on the street, Arthur started walking towards his home, which was not too far down the road. As he was walking, he noticed how nice the weather was this evening. The air was cool and felt nice against his skin. The sky was clear, giving him a beautiful view of the celestial sky. The stars were twinkling, making it a rather pleasant walk home. The passing of his father wasn't easy on him, but things were finally looking up for Arthur Kirkland. His business was growing and his mother was happy. What more could he ask for?
As he was walking up to his building, he noticed a carriage pulled up front.
Strange, it's rather late to be having visitors.
When he walked up to the door, he noticed the Sheriff sitting on his front steps.
This was strange. He wondered why his mother didn't already have the visitor in the front sitting room with a cup of tea. Maybe she was asleep? No, the servant would have woken her and told her of the visitor. The only reason he could deduce was that this was serious whatever this was.
"Good evening, Sheriff. How can I help you?" Arthur inquired.
"Mr. Kirkland, we might want to talk inside."
Arthur swallowed; this didn't sound too encouraging.
"Alright, let me get the door."
Arthur walked up the steps and unlocked the door, leading the officer inside the house.
"Yes officer, what seems to be your business here?"
"Son, you might want to sit down."
Arthur was nervous, for whatever he had to say, it was not going to be good.
When Arthur took his seat in the armchair in the corner of the room, the sheriff began to explain.
"Mr. Kirkland, tonight your mother, Abigail, was called apon by a friend of hers, a Mrs. Elizabeth King, who had recently fallen ill. She went over to her house to check up on her and see how she was dealing with her illness. After checking up on Mrs. King and spending some time chatting with her, she departed. While walking back to your residents, she was attacked and mugged. The suspect stabbed her in the chest, then stole her valuables and the contents of the purse she was carrying. Witnesses heard screaming and left the local bar nearby to find your mother lying in the street. By the time a doctor was located, your mother was already deceased. I'm sorry, Mr. Kirkland."
Arthur's eyes grew wide.
What?
"So, where is my mother? Is she alright?"
The Sheriff sighed; this was going to be harder than he thought.
"Your mother is dead, son. She was murdered. I'm terribly sorry."
"I, I-"
Arthur was speechless. His brain seemed to be unable to string words together in coherent thought.
After a moment of processing the news, Arthur was finally able to speak.
"Where is her body?"
"She's at the morgue; the mortician is taking care of her body as we speak."
"Thank you, Sheriff."
Arthur didn't need to hear another word. He jumped out of his chair, pushed passed the Sheriff, and sprinted down the road to the morgue. It was a long haul to the morgue, but he didn't care. About 10 minutes later, he reached the morgue and pounded on the door.
"Please, please, open up! Please!" Arthur screamed.
After a few minutes, a wrinkled, old man with a long, white beard opened the door.
"I'm sorry sir, how may I help you?" he asked.
"My mother! Where is my mother!" he yelled.
The old man looked at the distraught man. His shirt and coat were eschewed, he body covered in sweat and his face was ghost-white. The old man was pretty sure he knew who this young man was.
"You must be Mr. Kirkland, come right in."
Arthur quickly entered the building and stood there, waiting for the mortician to direct him to his mother. The old man led him to the back of the building, over to a table with a small, petite body covered in a white sheet. The old man pulled back the sheet, to reveal the face of his beloved mother, Abigail. Arthur became weak and fell to his knees at the sight before him. He took hold of his mother's hand and began to sob. This was too surreal, this was too horrifying to believe, but it was his mother lying there lifeless in front of him. He couldn't control himself anymore. He cried and sobbed, releasing the pain welled up in his chest. The old man was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable at the strong display of emotions and decided to slip back into the front room to give the young man some privacy.
Arthur continued to grieve. He took his mother's hand and placed it too his cheek. It was ice cold against his burning cheek.
This can't be happening.
Mother, mum.
Please, Don't leave me.
Mum.
….
Arthur was pissed. This was ridiculous, and these people needed to give him answers or so help him god. Arthur was currently sitting in the police station waiting for someone to give him answers to what happened to his mother. The day after her parting, he had laid her to rest in the local cemetery. He had never been so miserable in his life, but now he has never been so livid. He had yelled at the deputy for nearly an hour, demanding to speak to the Sheriff. The deputy played dumb and proclaimed he didn't know where the Sheriff was. Just when Arthur thought he couldn't take anymore of this nonsense, the Sheriff walked through the door of the station.
"Sheriff, who killed my mother?"
Arthur was quick and to the point. He was here for answers and he demanded them now.
"Mr. Kirkland, come sit here in front of my desk."
Arthur quickly made his way over to the chair in front of the desk. The Sheriff strolled behind him and sat in his leather chair behind it.
"Mr. Kirkland, I'll cut to the chase. Your mother was killed by a man named John "Bulldog" Bass. He is a convict who has been known to have killed 20 men, including two officers, and now your mother. He is also wanted for burglary, bank robbery, and fraud. He is a very wanted man, Mr. Kirkland."
"How do you know he is the suspect?"
"Witnesses, Mr. Kirkland. They had spotted John Bass on his way out of town. He was running on horseback and was said to be covered in blood. These witnesses had also seen Bass at the bar near the scene of the crime. We are pretty sure it was he who killed your mother."
"Does anyone know where he is going?"
"Some of the witnesses we spoke with say he is heading out West to Austin, Texas on business, or that is what he said in his drunken stupor. They say he had some "big money" waiting out there for him."
"Surely you have someone going after this man."
"Mr. Kirkland, we have sent word out to the authorities in Austin, Texas. They will take care of the case from now on. By the word of it, John Bass is already wanted out there."
"You don't have anyone going after this man?"
Arthur felt his skin crawl and his blood start to boil.
"Mr. Kirkland, I assure you that the proper people have been contacted."
"This man killed my mother! He needs to be pursued!"
"Mr. Kirkland, he will be found eventually, but you have to be patient."
Arthur knew how long "eventually" would take. Months, years, or hell, maybe never. It all depended on how active the search for the criminal was, and it seemed that the local law enforcement was in no hurry in catching him.
"Is that all you have to say?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kirkland, there is nothing more I can do."
Arthur was fuming. He couldn't take anymore of this.
"Thank you Sheriff, I'll be taking my leave now."
As Arthur got up from his chair, he kicked it halfway across the station.
The Sheriff and the deputy sat there taken aback at the sudden display of emotion. Arthur picked up his bag and left the station.
If they are not going to do anything about it, then, I will.
Arthur stood in front of his mother's grave in silence. He had come to say good bye before he left town. He was heading southwest to Austin, Texas. He kneeled on one knee and placed a single red rose by her headstone.
Arthur took a deep breath and sighed.
"Mother, I'm making you this promise. I'm going to go west, I'm going to find John Bass, and I'm going to make him pay. The authorities around here are lazy and incompetent, so I'm going to find the man that took you away from me. I swear to god and all that is holy, I will bring that man to justice, even if it's the last thing I do."
(To be Continued)
Pairings: USUK
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is an upper class business owner from New Bedford, MA who is heading west to find a murderous convict, when he runs into a cowboy by the name of Alfred F. Jones. The man offers to help Arthur travel through the Wild West and find the killer. Can Arthur Kirkland deal with this wild and rugged Cowboy? And what are these strange feeling he is developing for this adventurous young man?
Rating: T for now, but maybe M later on.
Warnings: Murder, death, grieving, language
A/N: This fic takes place in the 1880’s during Industrialization and Western Expansion. Most of the fic will be dealing with the mythical Wild West and the dangers that linger there.
"You can find meanness in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything. Make a machine. And a machine to make the machine. And evil that can run itself a thousand years, no need to tend to it."
Excerpt from Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy
Chapter 1
Arthur Kirkland looked around the small dining room - the atmosphere was just perfect. The room was filled with a slight smoky aroma from the corner fireplace. The room was dimly lit by the fire and the candle neatly arranged on the table. The table looked beautiful with the fine china and arrangements of roses and babies breathe in the center. Normally, the table would be adorned with modest silverware and tableware, but tonight was special - it was his mother, Abigail's birthday. Arthur had the family cook prepare a special dinner for the occasion. He wanted to give his mother the best birthday ever, for it was the first one she would spend without her husband. Arthur's father passed away about six months ago after a horrible battle with tuberculosis. They had the best doctors in New England try and save him, but none of them were able to save him. After his father's passing, Arthur had to step up and take on his father's responsibilities. He worked tirelessly for the past several months to fill his father's shoes and take care of his mother, but today he just wanted to enjoy the evening and celebrate.
Arthur took a sip from his wine glass and glanced over at his mother. Her sandy blond hair was pinned up in a bun, while she was wearing a lovely dark green evening dress with white lace frill around the neck and sleeve cuffs. She was quite pretty, even in her older years. She was also the sweetest lady Arthur had ever known. Arthur placed his wine glass on the table and gave her a warm smile.
"How are you enjoying the meal mother?"
Abigail paused between bites of her meal.
"It's wonderful, dear. You didn't have to do all this for me."
"Nonsense mother, I hardly feel that I have done enough."
Abigail smiled. Arthur has always treated her way too kindly. Ever since he was little, she knew that Arthur would always be her precious, little boy. As he grew up, he would give her gifts and demand her attention. When he was small, he would spend hours sitting and chatting with his mother when he could have spent time playing with his brothers or other boys his age, but Arthur never seemed to mind spending time with his mother.
"How is everything at the factory, son?" Abigail asked.
After his father's passing, Arthur took control of his father's textile factory. He always knew that he would take over since the rest of his brothers went off to Boston and New York City as they grew older. Arthur was different; he stayed in New Bedford and worked at the textile factory for his father.
"Everything is fine mother, just the normal frustrations: machinery breaking down, rushing to get orders ready for shipping. Nothing new."
"I know it was hard to get use to at first Arthur, dear, but you've come along way and the factory is doing better than ever."
"Yes, I guess you can say that. It has been a long road, but you really can give the credit to the continuous growth of this country and the recent expansion of the railroad system. Now that the railroads are moving west, we are shipping out further than ever before."
"Still, you are doing great Arthur, and I'm really proud of you."
"Stop it mother, it's not that impressive."
"It's still a shame that you haven't found a bride to marry. It's hard to believe that a handsome, affluent young man like yourself hasn't found a nice young lady to court."
"Mother-"
"You know, your father's old friend David Smith, the one who owns the whaling ship, has a young daughter named Meredith, who is very pretty and-"
"Mother, that's enough. I will eventually find myself a wonderful bride. Don't worry. For now though, let's just enjoy the evening with this wonderful dinner, and the chef is preparing a delightful dessert."
"Okay dear, I just want the best for you, that's all."
"I know mother, I know."
Arthur loved his mother, but it became a tad frustrating when she voiced her desire to be a grandmother. He just never felt anything for the girls he met, they just-well, they just didn't interest him at all. He was hoping eventually the one would walk through the door, but until then, he would be content being a bachelor. He was in no rush to be a husband.
Arthur decided when the conversation shifted to happier and less sensitive topics, it was time to pull out the small, velvet box he had been hiding under the table all dinner.
"Mother, it took me some time to figure out what would be a proper gift to give you, but I decided that this would suffice."
Arthur placed the box on the table in front of his mother.
His mother gasped at the sight of the small, velvet box. There is only one thing that can be in a box like that.
She picked up the velvet box and carefully opened the lid. Inside was a small, beautiful ring with a red ruby and diamonds encrusted around the gemstone. The band was gold with a message inscribed on the inside that read, To my beloved mother. Abigail stared in shock, it was so beautiful and luxurious. Without realizing it, tears started to stream down her face.
Arthur was surprised by the sudden tears and started to comfort his mother.
"Now, now mother, it's alright. I wanted to give you something really nice. You don't have to cry."
"Arthur, this is too much. You shouldn't have gotten this for me. I would have been content with a new tea set or-"
"Mother, I wanted to get you something special for once. In past birthdays, I have gotten you tea sets, shoes, and other assorted trinkets, but I have never given you something that really shows how much I care. After dad's passing, I felt that I needed to show you how much I appreciate you and what you have done for me as my mother. You have raised me into a fine young man and I couldn't ask for anything else. What you have done for me is worth more than this ring ever could."
With that sentiment, Abigail couldn't hold back the tears any longer. She got up from her seat and gave her son the biggest hug she could muster. Arthur chuckled and hugged his mother back. She really was the nicest woman he had ever met, and probably ever will.
Arthur looked over the papers in front of him one more time. The budgets were taking way too long, but he had to make sure that everything was perfect. One of the reasons he was so successful was because of the way he managed the budgets for the factory. There was no room to splurge on expenses, and the less money spent was more money earned. After the final glance over, Arthur placed his quill back on his desk. He took out his pocket watch. It was 9:00 PM. He had spent way too much time on paperwork today. He needed to leave and soon. He picked up his coat and hat, and then exited his office.
Once out on the street, Arthur started walking towards his home, which was not too far down the road. As he was walking, he noticed how nice the weather was this evening. The air was cool and felt nice against his skin. The sky was clear, giving him a beautiful view of the celestial sky. The stars were twinkling, making it a rather pleasant walk home. The passing of his father wasn't easy on him, but things were finally looking up for Arthur Kirkland. His business was growing and his mother was happy. What more could he ask for?
As he was walking up to his building, he noticed a carriage pulled up front.
Strange, it's rather late to be having visitors.
When he walked up to the door, he noticed the Sheriff sitting on his front steps.
This was strange. He wondered why his mother didn't already have the visitor in the front sitting room with a cup of tea. Maybe she was asleep? No, the servant would have woken her and told her of the visitor. The only reason he could deduce was that this was serious whatever this was.
"Good evening, Sheriff. How can I help you?" Arthur inquired.
"Mr. Kirkland, we might want to talk inside."
Arthur swallowed; this didn't sound too encouraging.
"Alright, let me get the door."
Arthur walked up the steps and unlocked the door, leading the officer inside the house.
"Yes officer, what seems to be your business here?"
"Son, you might want to sit down."
Arthur was nervous, for whatever he had to say, it was not going to be good.
When Arthur took his seat in the armchair in the corner of the room, the sheriff began to explain.
"Mr. Kirkland, tonight your mother, Abigail, was called apon by a friend of hers, a Mrs. Elizabeth King, who had recently fallen ill. She went over to her house to check up on her and see how she was dealing with her illness. After checking up on Mrs. King and spending some time chatting with her, she departed. While walking back to your residents, she was attacked and mugged. The suspect stabbed her in the chest, then stole her valuables and the contents of the purse she was carrying. Witnesses heard screaming and left the local bar nearby to find your mother lying in the street. By the time a doctor was located, your mother was already deceased. I'm sorry, Mr. Kirkland."
Arthur's eyes grew wide.
What?
"So, where is my mother? Is she alright?"
The Sheriff sighed; this was going to be harder than he thought.
"Your mother is dead, son. She was murdered. I'm terribly sorry."
"I, I-"
Arthur was speechless. His brain seemed to be unable to string words together in coherent thought.
After a moment of processing the news, Arthur was finally able to speak.
"Where is her body?"
"She's at the morgue; the mortician is taking care of her body as we speak."
"Thank you, Sheriff."
Arthur didn't need to hear another word. He jumped out of his chair, pushed passed the Sheriff, and sprinted down the road to the morgue. It was a long haul to the morgue, but he didn't care. About 10 minutes later, he reached the morgue and pounded on the door.
"Please, please, open up! Please!" Arthur screamed.
After a few minutes, a wrinkled, old man with a long, white beard opened the door.
"I'm sorry sir, how may I help you?" he asked.
"My mother! Where is my mother!" he yelled.
The old man looked at the distraught man. His shirt and coat were eschewed, he body covered in sweat and his face was ghost-white. The old man was pretty sure he knew who this young man was.
"You must be Mr. Kirkland, come right in."
Arthur quickly entered the building and stood there, waiting for the mortician to direct him to his mother. The old man led him to the back of the building, over to a table with a small, petite body covered in a white sheet. The old man pulled back the sheet, to reveal the face of his beloved mother, Abigail. Arthur became weak and fell to his knees at the sight before him. He took hold of his mother's hand and began to sob. This was too surreal, this was too horrifying to believe, but it was his mother lying there lifeless in front of him. He couldn't control himself anymore. He cried and sobbed, releasing the pain welled up in his chest. The old man was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable at the strong display of emotions and decided to slip back into the front room to give the young man some privacy.
Arthur continued to grieve. He took his mother's hand and placed it too his cheek. It was ice cold against his burning cheek.
This can't be happening.
Mother, mum.
Please, Don't leave me.
Mum.
….
Arthur was pissed. This was ridiculous, and these people needed to give him answers or so help him god. Arthur was currently sitting in the police station waiting for someone to give him answers to what happened to his mother. The day after her parting, he had laid her to rest in the local cemetery. He had never been so miserable in his life, but now he has never been so livid. He had yelled at the deputy for nearly an hour, demanding to speak to the Sheriff. The deputy played dumb and proclaimed he didn't know where the Sheriff was. Just when Arthur thought he couldn't take anymore of this nonsense, the Sheriff walked through the door of the station.
"Sheriff, who killed my mother?"
Arthur was quick and to the point. He was here for answers and he demanded them now.
"Mr. Kirkland, come sit here in front of my desk."
Arthur quickly made his way over to the chair in front of the desk. The Sheriff strolled behind him and sat in his leather chair behind it.
"Mr. Kirkland, I'll cut to the chase. Your mother was killed by a man named John "Bulldog" Bass. He is a convict who has been known to have killed 20 men, including two officers, and now your mother. He is also wanted for burglary, bank robbery, and fraud. He is a very wanted man, Mr. Kirkland."
"How do you know he is the suspect?"
"Witnesses, Mr. Kirkland. They had spotted John Bass on his way out of town. He was running on horseback and was said to be covered in blood. These witnesses had also seen Bass at the bar near the scene of the crime. We are pretty sure it was he who killed your mother."
"Does anyone know where he is going?"
"Some of the witnesses we spoke with say he is heading out West to Austin, Texas on business, or that is what he said in his drunken stupor. They say he had some "big money" waiting out there for him."
"Surely you have someone going after this man."
"Mr. Kirkland, we have sent word out to the authorities in Austin, Texas. They will take care of the case from now on. By the word of it, John Bass is already wanted out there."
"You don't have anyone going after this man?"
Arthur felt his skin crawl and his blood start to boil.
"Mr. Kirkland, I assure you that the proper people have been contacted."
"This man killed my mother! He needs to be pursued!"
"Mr. Kirkland, he will be found eventually, but you have to be patient."
Arthur knew how long "eventually" would take. Months, years, or hell, maybe never. It all depended on how active the search for the criminal was, and it seemed that the local law enforcement was in no hurry in catching him.
"Is that all you have to say?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kirkland, there is nothing more I can do."
Arthur was fuming. He couldn't take anymore of this.
"Thank you Sheriff, I'll be taking my leave now."
As Arthur got up from his chair, he kicked it halfway across the station.
The Sheriff and the deputy sat there taken aback at the sudden display of emotion. Arthur picked up his bag and left the station.
If they are not going to do anything about it, then, I will.
Arthur stood in front of his mother's grave in silence. He had come to say good bye before he left town. He was heading southwest to Austin, Texas. He kneeled on one knee and placed a single red rose by her headstone.
Arthur took a deep breath and sighed.
"Mother, I'm making you this promise. I'm going to go west, I'm going to find John Bass, and I'm going to make him pay. The authorities around here are lazy and incompetent, so I'm going to find the man that took you away from me. I swear to god and all that is holy, I will bring that man to justice, even if it's the last thing I do."
(To be Continued)