by B. S. Dunn
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘I’ll have one of the hands saddle your roan.’
He was surprised. ‘It’s here?’
Beth smiled. ‘Like I said, I’ll have it saddled.’
‘Christ almighty! What in hell does it take to get a man killed around here?’ Brotherton roared at Brooks who was nursing his aching head. ‘Instead the bastard kills two more of my men and gets away with the Condon woman. First it was Reynolds let him escape, Vince tracked him to the ranch and let him go, and now this. I’m surrounded by idiots!’
Reynolds watched from his usual corner in Brotherton’s office. He remained silent. Long ago he’d learned that anger wasn’t a luxury he could afford. Anger caused mistakes to happen. Anger got you killed.
Vince said, ‘I’d say Curtis and the woman have gone to the Circle M to hole up.’
Brotherton’s eyes narrowed. ‘Well, we sure as shit can’t go riding on to that spread, can we? Not if we don’t want to come up against all of their guns. Any suggestions?’
‘We wait.’
All eyes were directed at Reynolds.
‘Why should we do that?’ Brotherton sneered.
‘Because the man I know won’t sit idle for long. He’ll want to bring the fight to us.’
‘So, we wait?’
‘Uh huh.’
Brotherton shook his head. Other than risk losing more men, he had little choice. ‘OK then. We wait. But you better be right.’
‘He’ll come.’
‘Fine,’ the timber man snapped. ‘I need a drink. If you want me, I’ll be at the Silver Aspen.’
Curtis hit the outskirts of Swiftcreek a little after ten that evening. He found a place to hide the roan and walked in on foot, keeping to the shadows.
His first point of call was the doctor to find out how Lester was doing.
‘You’re taking a chance coming here,’ snapped grey-haired Doctor William Lewis when he opened his door to Curtis. ‘Especially after you killed Ace Hennessy.’
Curtis pushed his way in through the open door. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘You killing Hennessy, the livery owner.’
‘He’s dead?’
Lewis frowned. ‘Yes, you killed him.’
‘The hell I did,’ Curtis growled. ‘He was alive when I left. He helped me out by giving me a horse.’
‘That’s not the story that’s going around.’
‘Well, maybe you should find out who’s telling the damned story,’ Curtis snapped. ‘Because I sure as hell didn’t kill him.’
His remarks gave Lewis pause for thought. Then he said, ‘All right, maybe you didn’t, but how can you prove it?’
‘I can’t. How’s Lester doing?’
‘He’s much better. I think he might actually make it.’
‘That’s something, anyway.’
‘What are you doing in town?’
‘I’ve come to pay Brotherton a visit.’
‘Are you crazy?’ Lewis blurted out.
‘I need to find Morris’s will.’
‘You think Brotherton has it?’
‘I guess I’ll find out when I get over to his office.’
Lewis had an idea. ‘Wait here. I’ll go and see if he’s there or not.’
‘No, Doc, you stay out of this. I’ll be fine. They’ll kill you if they figure out that you were involved. Just get Lester better.’
‘Good luck, Jim. Make that bastard pay for what he’s done.’
‘Thanks, Doc. I intend to.’
The office was empty when Curtis arrived. He peered in through a window, but all was in darkness. He tried it and he found it unlocked. Lifting the window sash high enough to climb through, he made it through the narrow space, closing it behind him.
Curtis found a lantern and lit it, having made sure all the curtains were closed before he did. Then he looked over the top of Brotherton’s desk. He doubted it would be there in plain sight, but you never knew.
Next he tried the desk drawers. He found some papers there along with a small calibre six-gun, but not what he wanted.
‘Damn it,’ Curtis swore.
His gaze swept the room and stopped on the cabinet with three sets of drawers. He opened the top one and began going through it.
Curtis found what he wanted in the second drawer, folded and tucked away at the back. He carried it closer to the lamp and perused it quickly.
‘That’s interesting,’ he murmured.
Curtis tucked it away in his pocket and looked around the office. His lips pressed together and scooped up the lantern from the desktop. ‘What was it the bible said? Do unto others as they would to you? Something like that.’
Then with a sweep of his arm, he flung the lantern across the room. By the time he turned and walked out, the flames were already taking hold.
‘FIRE!’
The shout echoed through the Silver Aspen Saloon and everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at the man in the doorway.
‘Fire! The Brotherton office is on fire!’
There was a scramble towards the door as the crowd moved like a wave on the sand. Brotherton came out of his seat and almost knocked the table over. He started to push his way through the crush.
‘Get out of the way, damn it!’ he bellowed. ‘Get out of the way!’
Reynolds came casually to his feet and walked up to the bar, his bootheels clunking loudly on the floorboards of the almost empty room. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured some of the contents into a glass. Vince was the only other man left, and he stood further along the counter. He said, ‘It was Curtis, wasn’t it?’
The sheriff knocked back the whiskey and nodded. ‘I’d say so.’
‘You figure he’s gone?’
Reynolds looked up to stare at the killer. His gaze drifted past the man’s shoulder. ‘Nope.’
Vince turned around and his jaw dropped. Standing there with the Yellow Boy pointing toward them was Curtis. But there seemed to be something different about him. He had changed.
‘Which one of you killed Hennessy?’ Curtis inquired with a growl.
‘You start the fire, Jim?’ Reynolds asked.
‘Yeah. Figured he deserved at least that.’
The sheriff nodded. ‘Now you’re here for what? Exact revenge?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Word is, it was you who killed the hostler.’
‘You know that ain’t true,’ Curtis said, shifting his gaze towards Vince. ‘How’d you find me, Vince?’
‘Followed you.’
‘You’re a liar. Try again.’
‘Saw you coming out of the livery.’
‘Yeah. And then you killed Hennessy after you found out what you wanted to know.’
Vince nodded. ‘Sure.’
Reynolds said, ‘You have your answer, Jim. Now what?’
‘You want in on this?’
‘Nope, your fight.’
Curtis said to Vince, ‘Go for your gun.’
The killer snorted. ‘What? When you already have a gun on me? Nope. I don’t think so. No chance for me in that.’
Lips peeled back from teeth as El Tigre smiled. ‘It’s all the chance you’re going to get.’
‘No chance at all.’
‘Take it or leave it.’
‘Go to hell!’ Vince snarled.
‘You first.’
Vince’s hand went for his gun but as he’d stated, he had no chance. The Yellow Boy whiplashed, and the .44 Henry slug tore into his chest. It drove him back a few steps and he managed to use the edge of the bar to gather himself.
Curtis levered and fired twice more, each bullet slamming into flesh not far from the previous one. Red seemed to bloom on Vince’s shirt front with each strike. Then the strength finally left his legs and he fell into a dead heap on the timber floor.
The Yellow Boy shifted its aim and settled on Reynolds’ chest. The sheriff had not moved. He said, ‘Are you going to use that?’
>
‘Not yet.’
‘Mind pointing it somewhere else?’
‘Yeah. I do,’ Curtis said. Then, ‘Tell Brotherton this ain’t over.’
‘I’ll do that.’
‘One other thing.’
‘What?’
‘Leave. Just ride out, Captain, before it’s too late.’
‘I thought it already was.’
Curtis nodded. ‘All right then, be seeing you.’
‘Likewise.’
He backed out the way he’d come in through the back door and disappeared into the night while the rest of the town fought the blaze under the direction of an irate Brotherton.
The empty whiskey glass thumped down on the bar top with a loud clunk. Brotherton wiped at his face, smudging the soot even further. ‘Gone! All of it. Christ! Burned to the ground. All because you didn’t shoot your goddamned friend!’
Reynolds was silent.
‘Well! Say something!’
‘He’s not my friend.’
‘Well, shoot the son of a bitch then!’ Brotherton seethed. He pointed at Vince’s body that was still on the floor. ‘Preferably before he kills all of my men.’
‘He’ll be back.’
‘He said so, did he?’
Reynolds nodded.
‘When he does, you kill him. It’s what I’m damned well paying you for. Do it or I’ll find someone who will.’
Chapter 15
Beth Morris’ hand trembled while she read her father’s will. An expression of disbelief was etched on her face. She shook her head. ‘Why would he do this?’
Curtis took a sip of the coffee before him and said, ‘He obviously didn’t trust Cody.’
‘But this gives me complete control over the whole of Circle M.’
‘It does.’
‘That’s great,’ Mary-Alice joined in. They were both still up when Curtis had arrived back at the ranch.
‘But what do I do next?’ Beth asked.
‘Take your timber back,’ Mary-Alice said, stating the obvious.
There was apprehension on Beth’s face. ‘How? He’s not going to give it up without a fight. There is no lawyer in town since Tinkler was killed, and the sheriff works for Brotherton. As for the judge, who knows when he’ll be here? And by then they could have a whole lot of forest down.’
‘But surely there must be something you can do?’ Mary-Alice asked.
‘There is,’ Curtis said. ‘But not at this time of night. Let’s turn in.’
‘But I want to hear your idea,’ Beth argued.
Curtis drank the last of his coffee and rose to his feet. ‘In the morning. Goodnight.’
Beth had a perplexed look on her face as she followed him. However, the one on Mary-Alice’s was different. Hers was one of concern.
‘Where are you going?’ Mary-Alice asked Curtis early the next morning. He was thumbing fresh loads into the Yellow Boy while sitting in the sun, drinking his early morning coffee on the veranda.
‘Going to move Brotherton’s men on.’
‘By yourself?’
Curtis nodded. ‘Yeah.’
She gave him an incredulous look. ‘You can’t do that.’
‘Someone has to. I don’t see the sheriff doing it.’
‘But, Jim, there’ll be so many of them,’ Mary-Alice pointed out.
‘I’d best shoot them first then. What do you think?’
‘This isn’t funny,’ she growled.
‘I didn’t say that it was.’
‘What’s going on?’ Beth asked as she came out through the door.
‘Jim is going to fight Brotherton’s men on his own,’ Mary-Alice informed her.
‘What?’
‘Uh huh. I told him it was a crazy idea.’
Curtis said, ‘No you didn’t.’
‘Well, it is.’
Beth looked worried. ‘I agree. It is crazy. At least take some of the hands.’
‘No. They’re only cattlemen, not killers. Which for this, they’ll need to be. I’m better off on my own. Who knows, maybe Brotherton’s men will just leave of their own accord.’
‘Get the hell away from here before I bust you open with this axe,’ Dave Tyler snarled. ‘Go on, get.’
‘I was hoping we could do this the friendly way,’ Curtis said. ‘I guess I was wrong.’
‘Damn straight you were wrong,’ Bower hissed from behind him. ‘Get back on your horse, killer.’
When Curtis had arrived at the lumber camp, most of the men there were busy working. It didn’t last, however. Once they saw the rider they all stopped and moved in on him.
Curtis had dismounted and unsheathed the Yellow Boy. He thumbed back the hammer and waited for the welcoming committee.
They’d moved around him in almost a full circle, armed with axes, branches and even spare handles.
Curtis turned to look at each man, coming back to face Dave Tyler. ‘It doesn’t have to be this way. Beth Morris has legal right to this land. It was never her brother’s to sell. Which means you don’t belong here. How about you move on?’
‘I guess we got us a standoff then,’ Tyler said. He gave an almost imperceptible nod and there was movement behind Curtis.
El Tigre had noticed it and his head snapped around. He brought the Yellow Boy back and up at an angle so that the butt plate caught Bower flush in the face before the man could crack him with the handle in his grasp.
Bower’s jaw gave way under the brutal blow and blood gushed from his ruined mouth. The big man collapsed to his knees, dropping his weapon.
Sweeping the Winchester forward again, Curtis looped his finger through the trigger and fired it. The slug caught Tyler in the throat and tore through it with little resistance. Bright crimson sprayed from a torn artery on to the ground as the foreman tried to stem the flow with one hand in a losing battle.
He dropped the axe he was holding, his second hand failing to do what the first one couldn’t. He was dead in no time.
Curtis jacked another round into the breech of the Yellow Boy and shot another lumberjack trying to brain him with a branch. The bullet slammed into the man’s middle where it deflected downward off his bottom rib. The twisted hunk of metal ripped through soft flesh and tissue, creating a wound from which the man would never recover.
A fourth man moved in with an axe and was stopped mid-swing when the hot barrel of the Winchester pressed hard against his forehead. A bead of sweat formed on his brow as soon as he realized he was in trouble. El Tigre’s voice was cold, menacing. ‘I wouldn’t.’
The Yellow Boy was in his right hand and with his left, Curtis drew the Remington. He pointed it at another lumberjack just in case more of them had any ideas.
‘What’s it going to be?’ he asked.
The man with the Yellow Boy pressed to his forehead swallowed hard and said, ‘I’m done.’
‘Uh huh,’ Curtis said then ran his gaze over the others. ‘What about the rest of you? You done too?’
There were murmurs of agreement from them.
‘OK. This is what you’re going to do. I want all of your axes and other equipment put in a pile over there,’ he pointed with the Remington to a small cleared area not far from the mill.
Once they’d finished, Curtis said, ‘Burn it.’
Two of them set the small pile on fire and stood back.
Curtis nodded. ‘Now the machinery.’
This time they hesitated. One of them said, ‘Are you crazy? We can’t burn that. Brotherton has a lot of money tied up in that.’
‘His problem, not mine. Burn it.’
The man shook his head. ‘Nope. You want it done, do it yourself.’
El Tigre shot him with the Remington. Not dead, just in the leg as an example for the others.
He lay squirming on the ground, clutching at the wound in his thigh. His face was bright red and he managed, ‘Damn you, you son-of-a-bitch!’
Curtis ignored him and stared down the remainder of the men. ‘Anyone else have an
issue?’
‘I’ll do it,’ a solid man growled. ‘Didn’t much like working for the son-of-a-bitch anyway.’
‘I’ll help you,’ said another man.
There was a moan from Bower. Curtis glanced at him but saw him go still again as the darkness of unconsciousness claimed him.
Before long the machinery was aflame, and a pall of smoke billowed into the blue sky. The men who’d started the fire stepped back.
‘All right,’ Curtis said. ‘All of you get moving back to town. Tell Brotherton it finishes today. And take your trash with you.’
Chapter 16
The rider entered the Circle M yard and eased his horse to a stop. He waited a few moments before climbing down. As he did, the sun reflected off the badge pinned to his shirt.
The door opened on the ranch house and Beth Morris and Mary-Alice appeared. They eyed him with caution and Beth asked, ‘What do you want, Sheriff Reynolds?’
‘I came to see if Curtis was here,’ he answered.
‘Well, he ain’t,’ Mary-Alice said.
‘I see that. When are you expecting him back?’
‘What makes you think he’s coming back?’
‘You do. You’re here. He’s made himself your protector. Both of you really. That’s how I know he’ll be back.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Beth told him.
‘We’ll see, shall we?’ Reynolds said, leading his horse towards the water trough. He paused for a moment as hands began to gather. ‘Are your men going to be a problem?’
‘Not unless I tell them to be,’ Beth answered.
‘Fine. I’ll wait over here.’
Mary-Alice stepped forward. ‘Why are you doing this? You’re supposed to be his friend.’
‘I was once. Things change.’
‘So now you’re here to kill him?’
‘It’s what I’m being paid to do.’
‘What if he kills you?’
‘Then I’ll be dead. Anything else?’
Mary-Alice shook her head. ‘No.’
When Curtis approached the Circle M yard he could see that all the hands were gathered outside. Immediately he knew that something wasn’t right. He took the Yellow Boy from its scabbard and cocked the hammer. With that done he laid it across his thighs, his right hand continuing to grip it while his left controlled the reins.
