by B. S. Dunn
‘The war changes a man, Jim. You know that. You can’t tell me it didn’t change you.’
What he said was true.
‘So that’s how it’s going to be?’
‘Like I said, it’ll all be different tomorrow.’
‘Son of a bitch.’
‘I’ve been called worse. Brotherton wants you dead, but I’d prefer not to have it that way. So, I just keep you locked away until it’s over. But don’t make the mistake that I won’t do it. Old times only get you so far.’
Chapter 11
Mary-Alice woke to the sound of a horse’s snort out in the yard. She lay there for a moment before hearing it again. A flicker of nervousness ran through her body.
‘Lester, someone’s outside.’
Beside her, the lump under the blankets stirred. ‘Hmm?’
‘Someone is out in the yard.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
Lester threw back the blankets and sat on the side of the bed. He strained to hear but no sound came. He waited a moment longer then rose to his feet and began to cross to the window. Before he reached it, the orange glow emanating from outside was obvious, and growing brighter.
‘Good Lord, Mary, the bunkhouse is on fire.’
‘Oh, no,’ Mary-Alice gasped.
‘There’s three riders in the yard. They’re going for the barn.’
Lester pulled his pants on and dashed for the front door where a Henry leaned. He grasped it and burst through the doorway and out into the firelit yard. He levered a cartridge into the breech and snapped off a shot at the man with the flaming torch.
The slug flew wide and the rider threw the torch in through the open doors of the barn.
Lester jacked another round in and sighted along the barrel of the weapon. One of the other riders fired and he felt a deep burn in his side. The force of the blow from the bullet spun him halfway around.
Somewhere in the distance, Lester heard Mary-Alice cry out while he fought to bring the Henry back around. He had to protect Mary. He had assured Curtis that he would.
He felt weak but there was no give up in him. Lester managed to get the Henry back into line but never pulled the trigger. Instead, another bullet crashed into him, knocking him off his feet. This one buried deep in his chest.
Mary-Alice screamed and rushed to his side. She knelt in the dirt and cried over Lester’s unconscious form.
‘Get her up,’ Andrews snarled. ‘Then burn the house.’
‘No!’ Mary-Alice gasped.
One of the men grabbed a handful of hair and dragged her to her feet. She winced at the burning pain that seared her scalp. Mary-Alice bunched her fist and smashed it into the man’s face. The assailant spat blood then returned the favour in spades.
Mary-Alice slumped to the ground, stunned. It made her more manageable and he picked her up and carried her across to Andrews. ‘Here, take the bitch.’
Andrews laid her face down in front of him. ‘Hurry up and burn it so we can get the hell out of here.’
The man ran across to join his compadre and took a second torch from him. Then they set about igniting everything that would burn. Come morning, the only thing that should be left would be blackened ruins.
The dawn was cold. A pale pink light on the eastern horizon heralded its arrival and the five Circle M riders sat huddled around the small fire, trying to keep warm.
Sam sipped his pitch-black coffee, then blew on it before repeating his action. Beside him, a young cowboy asked, ‘You reckon they might try again today?’
Sam shrugged. ‘Who knows? You heard what the sheriff said.’
One of the other hands gave a cynical chuckle.
‘What’s up with you?’
The hand, whose name was Miller, said, ‘Do you really believe that, Sam?’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it could be just a way of getting Curtis out of the picture. We all know that the sheriff was brought in by Brotherton.’
Sam nodded and sipped his coffee again.
‘What’s that?’ another hand said.
All of them stopped what they were doing and listened intently. At first, it was hard to distinguish the sound from all the others brought about with the dawn. But after a few moments, the steady drumming grew louder.
‘Riders coming!’ Sam shouted and lunged for his Henry rifle. ‘Quick, move.’
Topping the rise, the riders swept down upon the hands. Gunfire erupted immediately, and Miller fell, a horrible wound in his throat spraying blood.
Sam swung his Henry up and snapped off a shot. It flew wide and he jacked another round into the breech. But the surprise was complete.
Hands started to cry out as lead found flesh. Then Sam felt a hammer blow to his guts and all the air rushed from his lungs. He doubled over and slumped to his knees. In his desperation to suck some air back in, his mouth opened and closed futilely.
Then a second bullet struck him, this one high up in his chest. His mouth stopped moving and his eyes glazed over. Very slowly, the foreman of the Circle M ranch slumped sideways and fell onto the ground.
Vince hauled his horse to a halt and turned to shout back down the slope. ‘Get them wagons moving!’
‘One of them got away!’ a gunman shouted.
‘Don’t worry about him now. We have to get this equipment moving. Get it done.’
Beth wasn’t long out of bed when the wounded rider came into the ranch yard. He slopped about in the saddle and when the horse slid to a stop, he fell to the ground beside it. One of the hands called out and rushed over to the fallen man.
Beth hurried outside and saw a huddle of her hands gathered around the figure on the ground. ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s Zeke,’ a voice told her. ‘He’s been shot. It seems that Brotherton’s men hit them this morning not long after first light.’
Beth looked down at Zeke and saw the bloody hole in his chest. It was ragged and she guessed that it was an exit wound, the result of him being shot in the back.
‘They were meant to wait,’ she said. ‘The sheriff told us.’
‘Brotherton’s sheriff,’ a hand named Teller pointed out.
Beth fixed her gaze on him. ‘Ride and get the doctor. I’ll follow and see the sheriff. A couple of you get out there and check on the others. However, do not go after Brotherton’s men. Am I understood?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ they answered.
‘Someone saddle me a horse.’
The four riders climbed higher through the trees towards a grey-faced mountain with a snow-capped peak. Every part of Mary-Alice’s body ached from the rock of the bay horse beneath her, mostly to do with the way she was tied to the saddle.
But that wasn’t the only thing creating her ache. The memory of Lester being shot down before her had triggered a deep throb in her core, unlike anything that she’d felt since her husband had been killed.
‘How much further have we got to go?’ she asked Andrews.
‘Until I say stop,’ he snapped. ‘Now shut up.’
The horses kept on for another hour before a log cabin came into view at the edge of a large stand of tall pines. They drew up outside and the men swung down. Andrews untied Mary-Alice while the other pair, Kent and Brooks, checked the cabin. Emerging through the doorway a short time later, they conferred briefly with Andrews before taking the horses around the back.
‘Get inside,’ the killer snapped at Mary-Alice.
‘What do you want with me?’
‘Your land.’
‘No.’
‘Then get inside. You’ll be here a while.’
By mid-morning, Curtis was getting nervous. He knew that something was happening, but had no idea what, and his mind ran rife with countless possibilities. When Beth showed up, some of the pieces dropped into place.
She pushed in through the jailhouse door and glanced about until she saw Reynolds pouring himself a drink from atop a pot-bellied stove.
&nbs
p; ‘You’re a dirty liar,’ she snarled at him. ‘You lied and now my men are dead!’
The lawman placed the pot back on the stove before turning toward her, and said, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Horseshit. You know exactly what I mean.’
‘What happened, Beth?’ Curtis asked from within his cell.
‘The bastards jumped my men this morning. Only one of them got away. They’re probably at the trees by now.’
Curtis stared at Reynolds. ‘Was this part of it? Lock me up so I wouldn’t be a problem. You told me they would wait.’
Reynolds shrugged.
A slow-building anger began to roil Curtis’ guts. ‘What about our place? Was it a target too?’
Again, a shrug.
‘You son of a bitch,’ he cursed at Reynolds. ‘Let me out of here.’
‘Can’t do that, Jim. Haven’t finished my investigation.’
Curtis grasped the bars of the cell, his knuckles whitening. Only it wasn’t Curtis, it was El Tigre. ‘Let me the hell out!’
‘Calm down, Jim. I should be done in a day or two. I can’t find all of the witnesses.’
‘You son of a bitch. You ain’t even trying.’
Reynolds just stared at him.
‘Beth, can you get someone from town to go out and check on Mary-Alice and Lester? Someone you trust?’
Beth nodded. ‘I’ll do it right away.’
‘You’d be best to stay out of this, ma’am,’ Reynolds said gently.
She gave him a cold stare and snapped, ‘You go to hell!’ Then she whirled and hurried out the door.
‘I thought more of you than this, Captain,’ Curtis said.
‘Like I said, things change.’
‘I’ll tell you this, Reynolds,’ El Tigre seethed. ‘If anything has happened to them, I’ll kill every man responsible. Including your boss.’
‘Let it go, Jim. It’s too much for one man.’
‘I knew a Mexican who told me that once. His name was Ramirez. He was an officer in Maximilian’s army. They buried him two days later. Once I start, I don’t stop, Reynolds.’
The sheriff noted that Curtis had stopped using the word captain, and along with its disappearance, he figured that any trace of respect was gone too.
‘I don’t want to have to kill you, Jim,’ Reynolds said.
El Tigre stepped up to the bars and hissed, ‘I doubt you’d be able to.’
Chapter 12
Ace Hennessy, the livery owner of Swiftcreek, topped a low rise and cursed at the sight before him. The blackened ruins of buildings stood out like dark beacons against the green backdrop of the grass and trees behind the yard, faint wisps of smoke still rising from each burned pyre.
He urged his horse forward and it walked down the slope. On entering the yard, his eyes alighted upon the still form of Lester. Hennessy climbed down and checked for signs of life. The man had been shot in the side and chest. Both wounds had long stopped bleeding.
Hennessy bent low.
‘Son-of-a-bitch,’ he muttered. ‘Lester, can you hear me?’
His inquiry was met with silence.
Hennessy gave him a gentle shake. ‘Lester? You hear me?’
A moan escaped his lips.
The livery owner glanced around. ‘Lester, where’s Mary-Alice?’
‘They took her,’ he mumbled. ‘I came to . . . when . . . they rode . . . out.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Don’t . . . know.’
‘Hang in there, Lester. I’ll get the wagon hooked up and get you back.’
‘Tell . . . Curtis.’
‘Don’t worry, Lester. He’ll be told.’
‘You lumberjacks get out there and start felling trees while the rest of us get this equipment set up,’ foreman Dave Tyler ordered the six burly men before him. ‘Take your sidearms as well.’
A solidly built man named Bower who led the lumberjack team asked, ‘You think they’ll come after us?’
Tyler glanced at Vince. The gunman said, ‘Never can be too careful.’
The axemen wandered up the slope until they reached the trees and started in on bringing them down. Around a hundred yards back in the gloom, a dark shadow slunk away behind a large rock. It was followed by four more.
Then a lonesome howl echoed through the forest. The lumberjacks stopped and stared at each other. Bower said, ‘Ain’t heard one of them around here in a long while.’
‘Let’s hope it stays away,’ another man said.
Bower grunted. ‘Come on, let’s get some of these trees down so they can be milled.’
‘You changed your mind yet?’ Andrews asked Mary-Alice.
She stuck out her chin, her eyes full of defiance. ‘About what?’
‘You know.’
With a shake of her head, she said, ‘Not likely.’
‘You know, things can get a lot worse for you.’
‘You mean worse than being held here with scum like you?’
His open hand flashed out and the palm caught Mary-Alice across her right cheek. The blow wasn’t hard enough to draw blood, but it stung and turned her cheek a scarlet colour.
‘That’s just a taste,’ Andrews hissed.
Mary-Alice’s eyes sparkled. ‘Would you like me to turn my back so you can shoot me?’
This time the vicious strike rocked her, drawing blood. Andrews said, ‘I’d advise you to think carefully about what you say next.’
But the change in Mary-Alice was complete as she had reverted to the woman she’d once been. The death of her husband and everything that had ensued since then had seen to that. She spat blood and growled in a low voice, ‘I’m going to cut your damned heart out.’
Her words should have shocked her. They were something that she would expect Curtis to say. But she was now devoid of emotion, except for the burning hatred that she felt for the man before her.
Instead of striking her again, Andrews gave her a mirthless smile. ‘Get in line.’
‘I’ll be the one in front.’
He stared at her and shook his head. It was going to be a long stay.
Beth Morris entered the sparse and dusty jail and walked straight past Reynolds and up to the cell where Curtis was being held. From the expression on her face, he knew instantly that the news was bad.
‘The man I sent out to check just brought Lester in. He’s been shot, and the doctor isn’t sure if he’ll make it.’
‘What about Mary-Alice?’
‘Whoever it was, took her.’
‘Christ,’ Curtis seethed. He looked past her to Reynolds. ‘This is your damned fault.’
‘That’s not all,’ Beth said. ‘They burned it. All of it. There’s nothing left.’
‘Let me out of here, Reynolds!’
The sheriff did something that Curtis never expected. He smiled. Then he shook his head. ‘I’ll let you out when the time is right.’
El Tigre stared long and hard at Beth. She nodded almost imperceptively as the unspoken words passed between them. After which she turned and left. Then he redirected his malevolent stare to Reynolds. ‘There’s a storm coming. If I was you, I wouldn’t be here when it breaks.’
‘Is that some kind of threat, Jim?’
Curtis shook his head. ‘Nope. Straight up fact.’
Reynolds left the jail and made his way along to Brotherton’s office. His transit was followed by a myriad of stares, but none more closely than that of Beth Morris. As soon as she saw him disappear through the door she hurried back to the jail.
She entered the office and crossed to the cell. ‘I have to hurry before he comes back.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you’d got it right.’
‘The stare?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know where the keys are?’
‘I think they’re in the top drawer of the desk.’
Beth checked and found them there. She unlocked the cell door and let Curtis out. ‘What are you going to do now?’
&
nbsp; ‘I have to find Mary-Alice and the will that your father left. Without that, Brotherton will still be able to keep possession of the timber on your range.’
‘Why not just kill him and be done with it?’
Curtis found his Remington and the Yellow Boy. He gave her a grim smile. ‘It’ll more than likely come to that. But I want that bastard to squirm first. Besides, if I go after him now, he’s got me a touch outgunned. Might pay to whittle them down first. Stay close to home, Beth. This is going to get more than a little out of hand.’
She watched him strap on the gun belt. ‘But I want to help.’
‘You’ve done enough. Safer this way. Bring all your hands in and wait for word from me. Brotherton may not stop at just the timber. He may want more.’
‘OK.’
‘Right, let’s go,’ Curtis said. ‘Out the back.’
They slipped out the rear door and once outside, he said, ‘Go home. I’ll be fine now.’
Beth reached out and touched his arm. ‘Good luck. Be safe.’
Curtis reached the livery and found Hennessy in the loft, forking down fresh hay. The livery man seemed surprised to see him.
‘I need a horse,’ Curtis told him.
‘How’d you get out?’ Hennessy asked.
‘Had a little help,’ Curtis explained. ‘Horse?’
‘Sure. Are you going after your woman?’
‘She ain’t my woman.’
‘There ain’t much left out there,’ Hennessy told him as he walked along to a stall near the rear of the stables.
Curtis frowned. ‘You’ve been out there?’
‘Sure. Beth Morris had me go check.’
‘Did you talk to Lester?’
Hennessy took a bay gelding out of the stall and began to saddle it. ‘He weren’t really up to talking when I found him. Just told me more or less what happened and that the woman was took.’
‘Didn’t say who it was?’
‘Nope.’
It was then that Curtis noticed the brand on the horse’s rump. It was a Circle M. ‘You giving me a Circle M horse?’
