Amos and Red Deer

By Maurice Buchanan

Amos Jackson is a free slave set free from his owner, an ex bounty hunter named Zeke Jackson. Red Deer is the son of the chief of the Pawnee Indians. Together they form a partnership against a murderous posse hot on their trail.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456871253

Maurice Buchanan

Born in Roxbury Mass. Now residing in Boca Raton Florida with wife and three children.

Book preview

Copyright © 2011 by Maurice Buchanan.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2011902578

ISBN: Hardcover    978-1-4568-7124-6

ISBN: Softcover      978-1-4568-7123-9

ISBN: Ebook          978-1-4568-7125-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

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94187

In memory of my nephew Davin Andrew Ferguson

May 24, 1979       -       August 17, 2010

Contents

Cast of Characters

Prelude

PART I

Scene 1

Scene 2

Scene 3

Scene 4

Scene 5

PART II

Scene 6

Scene 7

Scene 8

Scene 9

Scene 10

Scene 11

Cast of Characters

Amos Jackson, a freed slave

Red Deer, a Pawnee Indian

Zeke Jackson, an ex-bounty hunter

Sheriff

Margaret Jackson, wife of Amos

Ben Fletcher, slave owner

Gus, a posse member

Prelude

Joseph McCoy rode his horse from town to his old dilapidated farm house. It was a dirt farm with no crops to speak of. He had just a few pigs and chickens. He was an old man with white hair and beard. He dismounted his horse and was walking toward his house with a slight limp when he heard the neighing sound of horses approaching. He turned around and saw three men on horseback slowly coming toward him. He tied his horse reins on the horse post and walked toward the oncoming riders.

McCoy: Good afternoon.

Lead Rider: Good afternoon, are you Joseph McCoy?

McCoy: That I would be, and who might you be?

Lead Rider: Wade . . . Wade Jenkins. Have you heard of me?

McCoy: Can’t say that I have.

Wade: Maybe you heard of my father. (Wade spit some tobacco juice from his mouth.) Skip Jenkins was his name.

McCoy stood stunned; his body froze when he heard the name. The three riders dismounted their horses and slowly walked toward McCoy. They all were in their early to midthirties. Wade had a black cowboy hat and full blond hair. All three men were medium built and had guns in their holsters. They stopped about twenty yards in front of McCoy.

McCoy: Your Skip Jenkins’s boy?

Wade: Yes, I am . . . and I’m here to collect a debt, mister.

McCoy: Son, that was a long time ago.

Wade: You killed my father during a card game.

McCoy: In all due respect to your father, son, he was cheating.

Wade: I heard it was the other way around.

McCoy: He drew first; the courts ruled in my favor.

Wade: I don’t care. For years since I was a kid, I was learning how to shoot a gun so I could use it on you.

McCoy: Please, son. I’m an old man.

Wade: Something you deprived my father of being.

McCoy: So you’re going to shoot an unarmed man?

Wade: (turning to one of his men) Josh, give him a gun.

Josh walked over to McCoy and dropped a gun belt in front of him.

Wade: Go ahead, put it on.

McCoy: No, I’m not going to do it.

Wade: Oh, you’ll do it all right, or I’ll shoot you down right where you stand.

Josh: Go ahead, old man, at least you’ll have a fighting chance.

McCoy slowly bent down and picked up the gun belt with a Colt .45 in the holster. He hesitantly began buckling the belt. He began weeping softly and, with tears in his eyes, looked up at the three men.

McCoy: Please.

Wade: You pathetic old man, you deprived me of a father, and now—

In the distance, Wade spotted a figure through the blinding sun riding a horse toward them, pots and pans rattling on the side of his horse. A small brown dog was running beside him. As the horse got closer, Wade was able to make out the figure. It was a black man in an undershirt and suspenders and overall pants. He wore a black derby on top of his head.

Wade: Who are you, boy?

Man on Horse: Good afternoon, sir. I’m Amos Jackson. I’m here to see Joseph McCoy.

Wade: He’s a little busy right now.

(McCoy turned and saw Amos.)

McCoy: Amos, what are you doing here?

Amos: Is there a problem?

Wade: Go away, boy. This is none of your concern.

Amos: I have some questions for this man that need to be answered.

Wade: He’s not going to be answering no questions anytime soon. Seeing that he’s going to be a corpse.

Amos slowly dismounted his horse and stood next to McCoy.

Amos: I’m going to have to try to prevent that. Why don’t you boys just saddle up and ride on out of here?

Wade: Or else what?

Amos: Or else you’re going to force me to do what I don’t want to do.

Josh: Hey, Wade, I do believe this buck is giving us an ultimatum.

Wade: Is that it, boy . . . You’re giving us and ultimatum?

Amos: Call it what you wish . . . But all you guys have to do is mount your horses and go. There doesn’t have to be no trouble.

Wade: Well, looks like what we have here is a dilemma, ’cause we ain’t going nowhere. So looks like you got trouble, mister.

McCoy: (looking up at Amos and speaking in a low tone) I hope you know what you’re doing.

Amos: (in a low voice) I’ll get the two fellows on the right you get the one on the left.

Wade: So what’s it going to be, boy? You staying or leaving?

Amos: I don’t much care for this man, but he has information that I need. So I guess I’m staying.

Wade: What’s he to you anyway?

Amos: He used to own me.

Josh: Who owns you now?

Amos: No one.

Josh: So what are you? Some kind of want to be gun slinger?

(All three men started laughing.)

Wade: (through his laughter) What were you, a cotton picker or a cook?

Josh: (still laughing) I’m shaking in my boots, an old man and an ex-slave.

In that moment, Wade reached for his gun, and in a flash, Amos retrieved his gun and shot all three men before McCoy could even draw his weapon. All three men lay on the ground. Josh and the third gunman were dead; Wade was mortally wounded.

McCoy: Holy shit! Where did you learn to shoot like that?

Amos ignored him; he emptied the spent shells in his Colt .45 and reloaded. He put the gun back in his holster and walked over to the dying Wade.

Wade: (dry coughing and looking up at Amos) How? (He then died.)

Amos bowed his head and said a silent prayer over the bodies of the men. McCoy ran up next to Amos and viewed the corpse of the three men.

McCoy: Amos tells me how did you learn to shoot like that? You didn’t shoot like that when you were with me.

Amos continued praying over the men.

McCoy: Wait a minute, I lost you to a bounty hunter named Zeke . . . Did he train you?

Amos: Where’s my family, McCoy?

McCoy: I sold them a couple of years back.

Amos: Didn’t you make a promise to me and Zeke that you wouldn’t sell them? That they would be here when I got back from Mexico?

McCoy: Things got bad Amos . . . Look at me, look at this place.

Amos: Who did you sell