“How come you all-fired sure they got the money? That Johnny Reb may have been lyin,’” Charlie said.
“What other reason could he have had for wantin’ to go.”
“Where we goin’ after we get the money?”
“Arizona,” Preston said. “Don’t have much law out there, man can build an empire with some money if he don’t care who he steps on.”
“Don’t matter to me who they are.”
“That’s why I let you come along, Charlie, you got no scruples and that’s the kind of man I need right now. That changes, though, I might have to kill you.”
Charlie laughed. It never occurred to him that Preston meant it.
“I’m feeling better now,” Charlie said. “Might buy me a handsome woman.”
“We don’t have time,” Preston said. “After we eat we’ll go back to the livery for the money, start with the smith.”
“Don’t you feed prisoners around here?” B.W. said.
It was ten in the morning and Sheriff Odom had just arrived.
“When I want to. Got your money, goin’ to let you out,” he said and handed B.W. an envelope through the bars.You got two hours to get out of town or we’ll bury you here. Dropped your weapons off at the livery. Don’t load them till you’re out of town. Now get.”
When they walked in the livery stable, they saw Riley lying beside the feed bin.
“Is he dead?” B.W. said and tried to find the money bags under the harnesses. They were gone.
“He’ s alive.” Rance kneeled down beside him and raised his head. Riley let out a moan and opened his eyes. There was a big bloody gash on his forehead and several cuts on his face.
“What happened?” B.W. said.
“After they took you to jail, two fellas I sold some horses to came back and started pistol-whipping me, askin’ about money you had. Tried to tell them I didn’t know anythin’ about it. They found some saddle bags under the table and tried to steal your horses, too, but they couldn’t get a saddle on and left ‘em.”
“Holy hell, they got our money!” B.W. said.
“Need a doctor?” Rance asked Riley.
“Don’t think so.”
“Did you hear me,” B.W. said, looking at Rance.
“I heard you.”
“Hear any names, Riley?” B.W. said.
“One of them called the other one Charlie when he was trying to put a saddle on the buckskin.”
“Charlie a big man, kinda barrel-chested?” Rance said.
“Yes,” Riley said. “The other one was tall, slim and had a black mustache. An ornery-lookin’ cuss totin’ a tied-down .44. You know ‘em?”
“Yeah, we know ‘em. Did you see which way they went?” B.W. said.
“No. They said they came in on the train.”
“How did they know we were here?” Tommy said.
“Told you, Preston knows his business,” Rance said.
“Why didn’t they come get us then,” Tommy said.
“Found that money in the saddle bags first. Probably didn’t care about us anymore,” Rance said.
“There was money in the saddle bags?” Riley asked.
“We got to get it back.” B.W. said.
“Let ‘em have it,” Rance said. “It’s tainted money.”
“I don’t care if it’s covered in dog shit, I want it back,” B.W. said.
Riley started to get up and grabbed his head and sat back down. “Damn that hurts.”
“Major, you take care of Tommy, I’ll go get the money,” B.W. said.
“The money’s not worth getting killed over,” Rance said.
“Don’t intend to.”
“I can’t let you go by yourself,” Rance said. “Tommy, saddle the horses, fill the canteens and some goat bags of water for the horses. Keep an eye on Riley until we get back.”
“I hid your guns in the loft ‘fore the cowpokes got here,” Riley said. “Was afraid the sheriff would come back for them.”
“Good thinking, thanks,” Rance said.
“How you goin’ to know which way they went,” Riley said.
“Your horses have a blacksmith mark?” B.W. said. “Saw it on the shoe you was workin on when we came in.”
“Yeah the horses I sold them have the marked shoes on.”
“Tommy, keep an eye on Riley while we get supplies” Rance said. “We’ll hurry.”
Tommy nodded.
“What ya’ll doin’ in Traversville anyway?” Riley asked. “Where did that money come from?”
“It’s a long story,” Tommy said. “You goin’ to be alright?”
“I think so now,” Riley said.
Rance and B.W. were back in less than thirty minutes, ready to go. They tied down the supplies on the horses and climbed aboard. Rance pitched Riley the envelope the sheriff gave him.
“Give this to Travers for us, Riley, and tell him no deal.”
“Good luck,” Riley said. “You’re gonna need it.”
23
B.W., Rance and Tommy had been gone for almost a week when Julie and Fannie arrived in Traversville with Mitchell.
They rented a room at the Ferguson boarding house. The proprietor assumed Fannie was Julie’s servant and allowed her to stay.
The morning after their arrival, Julie asked if the three had been to the boarding house and was told they were there over a week ago, was unacceptable, and had left.
Julie left Mitchell with Fannie and walked to the livery stable. Riley was feeding horses when Julie came in. He took off his hat and walked up to her. “Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked.
“Was looking for a one-armed man, an Indian and a boy ridin’ together,” she said. “Figured they would bed their horses here.”
“Why you want to know,” Riley said, remembering speaking out of turn about them before.
“Come a long way to find them.”
“They was here, but I don’t know where they are now. Supposed to be coming back.”
“You know where they were headed? I was raised with the one-armed man, his name is Rance Allison.”
“Yeah, that’s him. Guess it would be alright to tell you. They went after two men that stole some money from them.”
“How much money?”
“Don’t know, but they had a suitcase full of it.”
“First I heard of that. You know Robert Travers or Booker Church?”
“Yes ma’am. Mr. Travers owns the railroad and Booker works for him. Your friends got cross ways with Mr. Travers and they’re gonna have to deal with him and Booker if they come back.”
“You got a buggy I can rent?” Julie asked.
“Yes ma’am, dollar-fifty a day. I’ll feed and water the horse. Need a five-dollar deposit. Pay the rest when you done with him.”
“Get it ready for me, please.”
“Yes ma’am.” Riley picked up the tong of surrey and pulled it away from the wall, then grabbed a chair and carried it to her. “Have a seat miss…?”
“Julie Stryker,” she said and sat down.
“Okay, Miss Julie, my name’s Riley Jones. I’ll go get the horse and harness, be right back.”
The sound of hoof beats behind her caused her to stand up and turn around, there was a thin little man sitting on a paint horse with two pearl-handled pistols on his hips and fancy black and red boots stuck in the stirrups. He took off his black Stetson and placed his hand on the saddle horn and leaned forward.
“I’m Booker Church,” he said, “I work for Mr. Travers. You the lady been askin’ round about them no-goods came in from Virginia with the boy?”
“None of your business, mister.”
“Afraid it is,” he said. “They were threatening Mr. Travers. Can’t let them do that without paying for it.”
“Like you did Alice Woodson?”
“Don’t know nothin’ about that,” he said and put his hat back on his head.
“Got a witness was there when you shot her down and ran out of town like an
egg-sucking dog.”
“I’d be careful what I said if I was you, lady,” Booker said.
“Thank goodness you’re not.”
Riley came in with the horse in harness, stopped when he saw Church, then led the horse up to the buggy and began harnessing him.
“What you doin’ here, Booker,” he said, putting the bridle on the horse’s head.
“Had a few questions for this pretty lady.”
“Bout what?” Riley asked.
“My friends,” Julie said.
“They’re not here,” Riley said.
“Found out they left town but didn’t take Mr. Travers’ deal. Just wanted to make sure they don’t come back.” Booker looked at Julie and flicked his tongue across his bottom lip like a snake.
Julie remembered what Cindy said. He did kind of remind her of a salamander.
“Don’t know where they went and she don’t either,” Riley said.
“Better remember who runs this town, Riley.”
“Best you get out of my livery stable.”
“I’m done for now,” Booker said, “but I’ll be back. When I do,I may just have to kill you.”
”What’ll you do, shoot me in the back?”
“Don’t have to. You’re no match for me and you know it.”
“Don’t count on it,” Riley said.
Booker tipped his hat toward Julie and smiled. “Good day, ma’am.” He turned his horse around and rode out of the livery stable.
Riley was motionless for a few seconds watching Church ride away. “You know he’s right. I ain’t no match for him.”
“He killed that boy’s mama,” Julie said.
“Better not talk about that round here,” Riley said and started hooking the horse up to the buggy.
“I’m staying at the Ferguson boarding house. If you hear anything from them please let me know.”
“I’ll do that,” Riley said and helped Julie up on the buggy seat and handed her the reins.
“Think I’ll visit the sheriff, talk to him about Church,” she said.
“Wouldn’t do that, ma’am. Travers got the sheriff in his pocket, too. Just cause you more trouble.”
Julie tapped the horse on the rump with the reins and rolled away.
24
B.W. kept tracking the shoe marks. He would lose the prints and pick them up again further along the trail until there was no doubt they were going straight west across Texas. They had to find shade in the middle of the day and pick up the trail again in the late afternoon. After a week of riding, they were about out of water. And that was much more important than the money at the moment.
Right before dark, they found a pool of water under a hanging rock from a spring and filled up the canteens and goat bags. They ate the last of the jerky and bedded down for the night.
“We’re lucky we found water,” Rance said. “May not be anymore if we keep goin.’”
“Yeah, gettin’ too hot,” B.W. said.
As the sun came up, they saw what looked like something burning a couple of miles away and rode toward it to see what it was. As they rode up, they could see two charred bodies tied to little mesquite trees, burned to the bone.
A large knife blade was laying in the ashes next to what was left of a leather boot. WP was etched into the blade.
“Well, we found Preston and Charlie. They got the money and horses,” B.W. said. “Some bad hombres out here.”
Suddenly, the sound of hoof beats filled the morning air. They saw at least ten riders silhouetted against the horizon as they rode across the top of a sloping hill nearby and dropped down in a gully.
They were coming after them. They could run or fight, but too many to survive either way.
“We’ll have to make a stand long enough for Tommy to get away,” Rance said.
“We know who burned Preston and Charlie and now they’re comin’ after us,” B.W. said.
“Tommy, you ride out of here as fast as you can when the shootin’ starts and don’t look back,”
Rance said.
“No, I’m staying,” Tommy said.
“No you’re not,” B.W. said. “I can hold them off long enough for you and the major to get away, no sense in all of us dying over my greed.”
“You can’t do it by yourself,” Rance said. “It’s goin’ to take both of us shootin’ as fast as we can to keep them pinned down long enough for him to get away.”
“I can’t run off like a coward,” Tommy said.
“You’re not, you’re goin’ because that’s what you have to do. All three of us can’t make it out of here,” B.W. said.
“If you ever get the chance to see Julie, tell her what happened,” Rance said. “I haven’t been able to get her off my mind.”
“Here,” B.W. said and handed Tommy his tomahawk. “Won’t be needing this anymore and I sure as hell don’t want them to have it.”
Tommy started crying. “Men don’t cry,” B.W. said.
Tommy wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. “I won’t.”
“Good.” B.W. turned away from Tommy, wiping a tear from his eye.
“Take Buck,” Rance said. “He’s the fastest horse I ever rode.”
“Don’t slow down until you’re ten miles from here,” B.W. said.
“I got no place to go,” Tommy said.
“You’ll be alive,” B.W. said. “That’s all that matters.”
The sound of a bullet ricocheted off a nearby rock.
“They’re here,” Rance said. “When we start shootin’ go.”
Tommy hugged Rance and B.W. “You’ll always be with me,” he said and climbed up on Buck.
Another bullet skipped off the top of a rock B.W. was behind and then two more.
“Go!” Rance yelled. They raised up from the rocks and started shooting as fast as they could cock the Henrys. Rance had become adept at firing the Henry fast by placing the stock in the crook of his left arm, squeezing the hand guard to hold it as he cocked the rifle with his right hand.
They stopped firing when Tommy was out of sight and dropped down behind the rocks again.
“I’m out of ammo,” Rance said.
“Me too,” B.W. said. “I think he got away.”
“Been good knowin’ you, B.W.”
“You too, major.”
“Sorry you didn’t get to spend that money.”
“Just as well,” B.W. said. “I probably would’ve wound up in a place I shouldn’t be.”
Rance grinned. “That’s how all this started.”
“Yep,” B.W. said.
“One good thing,” Rance said, “at least Preston won’t either.”
“Still can’t figure out how he knew we had that money,” B.W. said.
“Was probably wishin’ he never heard of it when those banditos caught up to him.”
“Them Mexicans know how to kill a man almost as good as an Indian,” B.W. said.
“Ain’t going to let them have their fun with me, saving a round ‘fore they get here,” Rance said.
“Thinkin’ the same thing,” B.W. said. “They would skin me alive.”
Rance nodded, checking the Navy Colt beside him.
They heard more hoof beats coming from a different direction saw a cloud of dust and heard rifle fire, but none of the rounds were coming their way.
They raised up and saw six riders riding down the jagged slope of the hill, firing rifles and handguns into the gully, then three more riders appeared, riding up from the ravine through the rocks, firing. They had the bandits in a crossfire. Several of the bandits tried to ride out but were cut down.
The sound of all the rifles was like the Fourth of July filling the air. It was over in minutes and the riders came together and galloped toward them.
As they got closer, the flickering sunlight bounced off the chest of some of the men and they saw Texas Ranger stars pinned on their chests.
“I’ll be damned, they’re lawmen,” B.W. said.
The riders were c
lose now. One of them was riding a little ahead of the rest on a big appaloosa. He threw up his hand and they reined their horses in and stopped. “Step out from behind those rocks with nothing in your hands,” he said.
B.W. and Rance dropped the pistols, raised their hands and stepped out into the open.
The man on the appaloosa had his rifle lying across the pommel of his saddle with a Remington in his holster. He was tall in the saddle with a wrinkled weathered face, a droopy black mustache and a white Stetson covering his long, smoky gray shoulder-length hair.
A rider came galloping up to him.
“All of them are dead. What you want to do with the horses, captain?”
“Form a picket line and have two men lead them to the fort when we pull out,” the captain said.
“Yes sir.” The ranger spurred his horse and galloped back to the hill.
“I’m Captain John Unger,” he said, looking at B.W. and Rance. “You can put your hands down. These are my men, the best guns in Texas.”
“Don’t doubt that,” Rance said.
“Saw the shooting,” Unger said. “What’re you two doing out here?”
“Had a score to settle with two men, but those bandits got to them first and then came after us,” B.W. said.
“You speak good English.”
“Missionary school,” B.W. said.
“What were ya’ll chasing after the men for?” Unger asked.
“Kind of like to keep it to ourselves if you don’t mind,” B.W. said.
“Don’t have a need to know now. You got a name?”
“Black Wind. Most people call me B.W.”
“What tribe?”
“Cherokee.”
“A bit out of your element, no?”
“Somewhat,” B.W. said.
Unger turned to Rance. “And you?”
“Rance Allison. Thanks for savin’ our asses.”
“Truth is, we didn’t know you were here. We’re the only law around and don’t get out here too often. That gang we just annihilated was some of the worst, mostly Mexican and Apaches. We been after them for months. You just happened to be here when we caught up with them. Guess I should thank you for slowing them down.”
“We saw some of their work,” B.W. said. “Caught the men we were chasing. When we found ‘em they had plucked out their eyes, tied ‘em to a tree and burned ‘em alive.”
The Last Good Day Page 15
