sheriff’s office.Fitch, who had quit the school, didn’t attend the town committee meeting. Maybe that’s why, the moment she came in the next day, she sidled up and asked.“Anything important at the meeting yesterday?”“Nothing much.”“Then why did it take so long?”“Good question.”Max’s pitch to seat a Lawrence-only legislature.Considering how explosive that was, they agreed to keep every part of the meeting secret.And separate from the committee’s business, the meeting produced this: Lane would head to Pawnee within a few days, and Joe Jim and his son would go with him.“There he is again. He’s practically clocking in.”The one who opened the door was none other than Joe Jim Junior. Since that night, he’d been in and out of the sheriff’s office all the time.“Good morning!”“You saying that because it really is?”“Have you eaten? I brought some cornbread. Here.”Fitch didn’t even look at him; Junior offered the bread to Max.“Thanks. I’ll eat it.”Bread, then coffee.He poured water into a long iron kettle and dumped in coarsely ground coffee.As the water boiled and the lid jounced, puffing steam, the grounds spilled over.Fitch set her sights on the coffee, same as she had on the cornbread.“Thanks for the drink.”“Nothing for you, Deputy.”“Why not—when you’re going to make it anyway.”“Tch.”This should be my spot.Like she’d had her place stolen by Fitch.She didn’t feel like being nice.Of course, even while feeling that way, she still did everything that needed doing.Max chewed and watched Joe Jim Junior.He was eighteen, a year younger than Max.He didn’t pester to be taught anything in particular.He just sat nearby, quietly tending weapons, or matched Max rep for rep when Max worked out.And every so often, when Max couldn’t stand it and showed him a thing or two, the kid would shiver and copy it well.— What do you want to be?— Someone as strong as Max.— And then?— I want to work with you.Max had no intention, not the least, of raising someone into a teammate.It was far more efficient to accept people who were already mostly formed.But if he saw the seed in someone, he was willing to offer a small piece of advice.Joe Jim Junior was one of those.He had stamina, speed, and grit.Nothing remarkable yet, but a few years from now, he was someone to watch.While Max was thinking about Joe Jim Junior, Holliday came into the office.He whistled when he saw who was gathered and said,“This really is the beating heart of freedom.”An East Asian, a woman deputy, and an Indian. Add a Black man and the picture would be complete.Holliday sat in the chair in the middle of the office and said,“By the way, I didn’t say this at the meeting last night. With the legislature seated, they’ll also fix the administrative districts of Kansas towns.”“Lawrence will fall under Douglas County.”“Lecompton, Wakarusa, Bloomington, Eudora, Big Springs—those will be in it too.”Holliday brought this up because of the formal sheriff appointment.Up to now, Max was, literally, an acting sheriff.An unnamed post that wouldn’t make the history books.But once the legislature convened and a constitution was proclaimed, Lawrence would be under the directives of the Douglas County sheriff.“The governor in Lecompton will name a sheriff soon enough. Question is, who he’ll put up.”Clink.Fitch dropped the cleaning rod she was running through the rifle barrel. Eyes going round, she looked at Max and asked,“Are we getting fired—just like that? After doing nothing?”“I’ve done plenty.”“And we’re still getting fired. Anyway, we’re a pair, so wherever you go, we go together, right?”“Are we Siamese twins? What ‘pair’?”Max smirked; Fitch leaned in close.Then let’s just fuse for real.Thinking it alone, snorting to herself, Fitch picked up the rod and went back to scrubbing the bore.She’d only taken Deputy to stick with Max. She had no attachment to the title.If anything, she was curious what Max would do once he stepped down as sheriff. ****Jackson County, Missouri.David Rice Atchison, the prime mover who gathered Border Ruffians and schemed the fraudulent elections, called his lieutenants into a conference room.Having failed to win reelection to the state senate, Atchison had lately grown even more rabid about making Kansas a slave state.“The legislature at Pawnee goes forward with those who were elected the first time.”“What about the ones elected in the revotes?”“Those revotes never should’ve happened. Just throw them out.”Everything was flowing in favor of a slave state. Only, Atchison didn’t like how Kansas’s Governor Reeder was acting.“Call the legislature at Pawnee to get out from under slave-state influence? We’re not going to sit still for that madness. If we’re going to write a constitution and ram it through fast, this is the only way.”Ignore the revotes and seat the thirty-six pro-slavery men elected in March as the legislature. To block opposition at the root, Atchison was pushing something reckless.“We’ll need to send Border Ruffians to Pawnee.”“Keep the abolitionists from getting a foothold. And if the governor pulls any nonsense, there’s no need to hold back.”Benjamin Stringfellow nodded.The Stringfellow brothers led the Border Ruffians.They were hardliners who’d even published books supporting slavery.“By the way, I hear James Henry Lane, the former Indiana House man, has outright settled in Lawrence. Brought his family too.”“That’s why he was sniffing around Lawrence. He’s no pushover—he’ll be a nuisance.”Scowling, Atchison turned his eyes to a man sitting in the corner.A freckled man about Max’s age.Samuel Jefferson Jones had interfered with the election in the town of Bloomington near Lawrence back in March.His home was Lecompton—like Lawrence, part of Douglas County.“You’ll soon be named sheriff of Douglas County. How about you take a look around Lawrence while you’re at it?”“Understood. Permission to kill that East Asian bastard?”Jones asked it flatly.For his age, he’s a cold, steady one. And his skill—no question.Atchison liked the sound of it and laughed. Then he shook his head and said,“Kill him once you’re formally sheriff. Then you’ll be the law.”“Then I’ll just give him a light touch.”“That much is fine. Go see how exaggerated the rumors are.”Atchison was curious about the East Asian sheriff himself. From the newspaper reports, the man sounded like someone out of myth.He’d already taken damage from him before, but who would believe one East Asian had done that alone?It had to be a tall tale cooked up by the Lawrence press. ****“Father! I’m heading out!”“Be careful. Be back before sundown.”“Got it!”Joe Jim watched his son ride off with a pleased smile.His own heart had pounded that day when he saw Max—how much more his son’s.Right. Don’t live the way I did.Unlike himself, who’d lived in-between as a mixed-blood of white and Indian, he wanted his son to live differently. Praying for the boy’s future, Joe Jim bowed his head toward the rising sun.Savoring the wind slapping across his body, Joe Jim Junior urged his horse and picked up speed toward Lawrence.All he could think about was training.At first, he’d thought it would kill him. Now he felt like he was flying.Max hadn’t taught him much, but the offhand comments Max tossed out were plenty useful.Like those three men far off.— They’ve got you outnumbered? Then don’t meet their eyes—ride straight at them.Numbers gave people confidence they didn’t have.They also stirred up the instinct to tear something apart.And Max was never wrong.“Jones, looks like that one’s heading for Lawrence.”“Then what, we just sit here? If he’s going our way, we might as well grab him.”“How about a little Indian hunt.”Samuel Jefferson Jones.He glanced back and let the words fall.“Told you. No killing for a while.”“Ah, right. You said you’d be sheriff soon.”A year ago, when Samuel Jones from Virginia crossed into Kansas, the friends he made were all pro-slavery men.What pulled Jones deep into Kansas affairs was catching David Rice Atchison’s eye.— How about you use that gun to kill some damned abolitionists?— I’m allowed to kill them?— Of course. They’re worse than vermin.To hell with slavery, whatever.Samuel Jones didn’t care what he became, so long as he could use his skill.“All right, let’s take him.”The morning wind was crisp—perfect hunting weather.Jones spurred his horse and shot forward. ****“Hey, you little Indian. Think we can’t catch you if you run?”“Ugh.”They’d looped a rope over his horse’s head; Joe Jim Junior had no choice but to fall.It hurt, but he could bear it.But against three, getting away seemed unlikely.Max said to go for the boss first in a spot like this.Junior’s eyes fixed on Jones.Everyone on either side was taking their cues from him.A cold face, eyes looking at him like a bug. When Junior started to reach for his gun, the man opened his mouth.“If you’re an Indian heading to Lawrence… you’re one of the ones helping settle Topeka.”He knows me?Junior’s eyelids trembled.He calmed himself.“What’s it to you if I’m going to Lawrence?”“It matters. I’m about to be sheriff.”The voice didn’t come from Jones; it came from the man beside him. Junior remembered what he’d heard at the office a few days back.A sheriff to be appointed for Douglas County.“You’re not even appointed yet—what’s with the confidence?”“Shut it. You know that East Asian sheriff, don’t you?”Jones still said nothing. Like he didn’t even want to share words.“…… Why are you asking?”“Looks like you do. We’re going to kill that bastard.”“What?”Junior’s eyes went wide—then he burst out laughing.“Just the three of you are going to kill him?”“Y-you laughing, punk?”The man beside Jones went to draw.Junior’s hand beat him to it, ripping the revolver from his holster.Bang!“Urgh.”Junior stared, stunned, at the revolver on the ground.The barrel was caved in by a bullet.The shock that slammed through his hand wouldn’t stop the trembling either.Junior lifted his head and looked at them.Jones had a gun out, leveled at him.Fast.While Junior swallowed hard, Jones finally spoke.“Seems you know the East Asian sheriff.”“……”“Is he faster than me?”“O-of course.”“And without a gun?”Jones preferred his bare hands to a gun.Back East in Virginia, guns brought trouble; fists were treated more lightly.And in fights with money on the table, Jones had never once lost.“He wouldn’t even bother with the likes of you.”“From how you’re trying to needle me, I guess you think I won’t kill you.”Jones suddenly smirked and went on.“Right answer. I won’t kill you. But since you’ve needled me, I’ll have to needle him too.”Smiling, Jones looked at the friends beside him.“Who wants to fight him?”“B-bare-handed?”“You won’t lose to an Indian punk, will you? Right?”“O-of course not.”They nodded, reluctant.Somewhere along the way, the rough men of the West had begun to fear Jones from the East.Naturally, a pecking order formed, and Jones stood at the center of it.— If you try to kill me, you’d better finish the job. If you don’t, I’ll find your whole family and flay them.They’d seen enough to know that line, hissed with an icy smile, wasn’t empty talk.To the two of them, Jones was fear made flesh.“Millie, you fight him.”Chosen by Jones, Millie nodded and stripped his weapons. He’d done this often, judging by how natural he moved.“Indian. You get ready too.” ****Clop, clop.Prrrrr.The horses stopped at the Lawrence sheriff’s office.Hearing the sounds, Fitch stepped outside.She saw Joe Jim lashed to a saddle, his whole body caked in blood.“This… you bastards did this!?”As Fitch shouted, eyes snapping to the men trailing behind—Creak, creak.Max stepped out of the office.After he looked at Joe Jim, his gaze drifted, slow, to the three men.One of them had a face swollen like a drum.And Max’s eyes met Jones’s.“Get off the horse.”At Max’s words, Jones’s lips curled.

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