The bullets began to shake the door and front walls. Durant said, “We have to get out of here, Cherry. It’s up to you and me to make the first break and give cover. Adamson, can you look after the women?”
“Sure. But hell, Durant, I’m in this to my ears, same as you.”
“Just watch the women,” Durant said and crawled across the floor to where Cherry still held the struggling Marie. Durant touched the gambler on the shoulder and when Cherry looked around at him, he said, “What’s out back?”
“Open country.”
“Then we’ll let Adamson make a break for it. You take one window.”
“Go to hell!” Cherry snapped.
Blake pointed his gun at Cherry. “Mister, Adamson and his daughter are getting whatever chance we can make for them. You and I can hold them off here.”
Cherry’s stare slashed at Durant. “Look, I don’t want any part of you. I think it was a damn fool idea getting you out of Traversi’s jailhouse in the first place. You just do whatever you like and leave me be.”
“What I like right now, mister, is giving other people a chance. Let go of her.”
Marie regarded Durant coolly, plainly not believing that he wanted to help her. But Durant’s calm look remained on her and she couldn’t bring herself to abuse him. She drove her elbows into Cherry’s stomach and smiled when he let out a grunt.
Cherry grabbed her by the shoulder and she gasped in pain. Then Durant’s hand fastened on Cherry’s wrist and slowly the pressure of his grip made the gambler release Marie again.
“You can buy a heap of trouble acting like that,” Durant said. He spoke slowly, hoping his words would be sufficient warning and that Cherry would know when to stop.
The shooting had stopped. Now Red Traversi’s voice boomed out: “Marie, you all right?”
Marie squirmed from under Cherry and lifted her head. “Come on in, Red. They’re scared. You can get them easily.”
“Shut down, you!” Cherry told her and pushed her head hard onto the boards.
Blake Durant couldn’t help her now. He had risen to his feet and pulled the door open. Looking out, he saw a group of five men crouched up the laneway. The closest was about thirty yards away. As Cherry had said, the back yard was open country.
Durant ducked back when a barrage of bullets slammed into the front of the house. He said, “Adamson, put out the lamp. Then come up behind me. When I start firing, take your daughter out the back way and keep going. Don’t stop for anybody or anything.”
Blake Durant stepped outside, picked out his target and opened fire. The closest of the five men immediately backed off. Durant kept firing until he heard Adamson go down the front of the cottage with Joyce close behind. Then he stepped back inside and partly closed the door. Cherry was against the inside wall, with Marie held close to him.
Durant said, “Okay, you two next.”
But Cherry defied him. “That trick worked once, Durant, but it won’t again. Make your own arrangements and I’ll make mine. I know this town and I’ll find a hiding place in it. West of here, about ten miles out, there’s a canyon. Beyond it is a place called Eagle’s Rock. There are caves throughout that section. Find one, stay there, and wait for me.”
“I can’t leave you in this fight on your own,” Durant said.
Cherry laughed scornfully. “Durant, I’d rather be on my own than tied in with you. You’ve got your chance—take it because you mightn’t get another one. I’ve got Marie, so Traversi will have to toe the line with me.”
Durant thought about the situation while bullets continued to rock the walls of the house. He knew that time was fast running out for all of them. By now Adamson would be at the fence.
He said, “I think you’re loco, but you leave me no choice.”
“So run, damn you!”
Blake waited for the shooting to die down, then he slipped out through the doorway again. He held his fire. In the deep shadows down the side of the building he went noiselessly. But just as he was turning towards the back of the cottage, a figure loomed up before him. Blake saw a gun gleam in the moonlight. He brought his left fist crashing down on the man’s shoulder. As the man’s legs buckled under him, Durant’s right fist swung up and made contact with the point of the jaw. The man let out a groan and slumped into the dust. Blake stepped over him, then backed off. When he reached the fence he stopped. Ahead of him he could see the gun hands coming in closer, spread out for a fight.
Then the fleeting figures of two people passed by the corner of the cottage.
He heard Cherry call, “Traversi, I’m going through you. Try to stop me and Marie gets it.”
Blake cursed under his breath and climbed over the fence. Adamson and Joyce were waiting. Blake snapped, “I told you to keep going.”
“We’ll go now, Durant.”
Even as the rancher spoke, guns burst into life in front of the cottage. Marie let out a tortured scream. Then Blake saw Cherry pitch her body forward and break into a run. The gambler headed down the laneway through a gauntlet of six-gun lead. He clutched his shoulder and staggered, but continued on. When Cherry reached the end of the laneway and ran from sight, Blake pushed Adamson into a stumbling run.
“Head for the livery stable and get your horses. I’ll cover.”
Ben Adamson, having seen Marie stumble and fall, gave him no argument this time. With Joyce running to keep up, they went into the back street. When Durant arrived they had saddles on two horses. Adamson stood guard over a perspiring, frightened stable attendant while Durant saddled Sundown. Then, riding hard, they tore out of town by way of the back street.
Six – “Find Cherry!”
Red Traversi’s anger was like a striking snake inside him. In the light of the lantern brought from the cottage, he held Marie in his strong arms. Her eyes were closed and her face was already gray. But there was some semblance of life still inside her.
“Get her a drink, quick!”
Reg Weedon hurried to the cottage and returned with a bottle of whiskey that he handed to Traversi. Feeding whiskey into Marie’s mouth, Traversi then studied her anxiously for signs of life. But the whiskey ran scarlet back through her lips and her head dropped to the side of his forearm. His curse was bitter as he placed her on the ground.
For a long time Red Traversi stood there, remembering the wild spirit which had made Marie interesting to him. Some of their tender moments together came to him. He drew in a slow, deep breath and faced the other four.
“Take her inside. Lay her down right, then leave her be. I’ll tend to her myself later when there’s more time. Right now I want you to rouse the whole damn town. I want everybody in the streets. I want Cherry.”
Reg Weedon, sensing that the slightest delay would send Traversi into a fit of temper, bent down and lifted Marie from the ground. He carried her limp body into the cottage and put her on her bed. Returning, he stood in the doorway and checked his gun. Traversi had sent the others running for help. They had just reached the front street when the sound of hoof beats rose from the back street.
Snarling angrily, Traversi called out, “Get your horses. We’ll run ’em down. I want you to kill the whole damn lot of ’em!”
He charged off, the loss of Marie cutting deep into him. Weedon fetched Traversi’s horse for him and then Traversi was holding Dane Cherry’s hat high for the gathered men to see.
“A hundred dollars for the man who shoots the guts out of the scum whose head fits this hat. Weedon, stay here. Get whatever help you need, but see that those cattle don’t shift outa town.”
Traversi walked to his horse and swung up. With a cold look at the men who had come to his assistance, he hit his horse into a run.
A fly lighted on the back of Durant’s hand as he listened to the sound of water running over rocks. Around him were the gray bones of a long-dead tree. Sundown stood still, peering into the sunup’s yellow-pink light. Ben Adamson, after the long, hard ride from town, looked weary and uncertain.
“The girl was shot,” Adamson put in.
“But maybe she wasn’t killed. Cherry went off and left her behind. If she lived to talk then she’s put Traversi onto our trail.” Durant turned his gaze onto Joyce, remembering her connection with Dane Cherry. “It’s up to you, Miss Adamson. No matter how he did it, Cherry helped get us out of town and he saved me from a hanging.”
Ben Adamson studied his daughter’s face and then sighed. “We sure got ourselves into one hell of a pickle, didn’t we? My cattle are still back there. Without them, I might as well be dead. Damned if I’m gonna leave ’em there.”
Joyce held Durant’s steady gaze. It was growing warmer, with the sun rising through the timber and shining on their faces. Joyce shivered and touched her disarranged her, wondering about Durant and angry at herself for it. The man meant nothing to her. On the ride from town he had been methodical in everything he did, apparently certain that whatever he decided was right for them. He had never allowed any argument and she and her father had followed him blindly.
Now she said. “I gave him my word when he helped Pa raid the jailhouse, Mr. Durant. I said I’d wait for him and go with him.”
Durant nodded his acceptance of this but his cool look brought a flush of color to Joyce’s face. She faced him, drawing herself up a little, a picture of uncertainty despite the forthright answer she had given him.
He said: “I suggest we wait here, water the horses and get some rest. We’ve put a good deal of distance between us and the town and likely we’ve gained a big break on anybody following. Cherry will be along and he should be able to pick up our tracks.”
With that Blake Durant led the way through the trees and down to the creek’s edge where he came out of the saddle. Before Joyce or her father could unsaddle their horses, Durant had Sundown hitched in shade and was gathering wood for a fire. Soon he had a smokeless fire going. When the water in a black pot was on the boil, he added coffee grains.
Minutes later Joyce and her father were seated out of the fire’s heat drinking coffee. Then Ben Adamson broke the silence.
“What actually happened to the girl, Durant?”
Blake shook his head. “It was too dark to see properly.”
“You were closer than us,” Adamson persisted. “All we saw was Cherry holding her up as a shield. Then guns started to go off.”
Blake sipped at his coffee and looked at the fire. “Hard to say who started the last bout of shooting. It might have been Traversi or it could have been Cherry.”
Adamson cleared his throat and hunched forward. “If it was Cherry, he gave the girl no chance.”
Joyce frowned at him. “What are you trying to say, Pa?”
Adamson shrugged. “Ain’t sayin’ it any way, girl. Just wonderin’.”
Joyce turned to Durant. “You both think Dane was responsible for her death, don’t you? That’s a terrible accusation to make. And unfair.”
“It was too dark to see anything definite, Miss Adamson,” Durant said quietly. “But he had no right to use her that way.”
“What was the alternative?” she asked hotly. “Should he have stayed there to get killed?”
Blake’s look hardened a little and he began to understand how difficult it must have been for Adamson to live with Joyce on his ranch after the death of her mother.
“No,” he said. “I didn’t expect him to stay and get killed. But I didn’t expect him to throw her into a wild gunfight either. I see him again I’ll put it to him personally.”
“You will?” Joyce said, her voice rising again. “Perhaps you’ll also forget what he’s done for you?”
Blake shook his head. “I won’t forget that. But let’s face something. He wasn’t out to do me a favor—he had a deal on. Cherry is maybe a little bit too keen on deals for my liking.”
Blake rose, kicked some dust over the fire and returned his coffee mug to Sundown’s saddle. He stood then, his eyes going beyond the creek, searching.
Adamson walked away from the fire too and washed his mug in the slow-running creek. Coming back, he found Joyce looking moodily at her leather-chafed hands. He said, “Don’t argue with Durant. He got into this for my sake. I won’t have him harped at by you.”
Joyce looked defiantly at her father and for a moment seemed about to continue her argument. Then she apparently changed her mind and got to her feet. She stood looking into the distance, her face dark with rage. Ben Adamson shook his head sadly and tried to remember her mother as she had been at Joyce’s age, spirited, stubborn, hot-headed and careless with her arguments. Finally, however, she had become tolerant with age. Perhaps, he told himself, it would be like that with Joyce too.
He walked to his horse and patted its head, then he sat down on a tree stump and took out his gun. He hunched over, weighing the gun in each hand. The morning silence settled comfortably about him and he cleared his mind of all thoughts.
Dane Cherry came up the creek bank right on noon. When Joyce saw him, she was overcome with delight. But then, as she walked to meet him, she saw the blood on his shoulder.
“Dane!” she cried out.
Cherry lifted his head. His face carried the weariness of a man who had ridden the night and half a day, alone, tormented by pain. His dull gaze settled on her and a thin smile worked across his thin-lipped mouth.
Cherry stopped just before the fire and looked bleakly up to where Adamson and Blake Durant stood in the shade of the cottonwoods. His face gave no hint to his feelings. Joyce moved beside his horse as he came down from the saddle. She took the reins from him and led the horse off. Cherry braced himself on wide-planted feet and said angrily:
“This isn’t Eagle Rock, Durant. Did you figure to run out on me?”
Blake shook his head. “We knew you’d pick up our trail. We also knew that if Marie lived to talk, Traversi would have gone seeking us out at Eagle Rock.”
Cherry sneered. “I’ve already taken care of Traversi, no thanks to you,” he growled. “He tracked me down just on sunup and I led him away into the hills. It was only by chance that I picked up your trail.”
“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” Ben Adamson put in. “You’re here and we’re here. What I’ve got to worry about now is getting my daughter to some place safe. After that I’m gonna get my cattle back.”
Cherry’s face held a smug smile. “I told you before that you can forget your cattle, Adamson. As for Joyce, she’s my responsibility now. By the time Traversi gets onto my trail, I’ll have her a long way from here.”
Cherry moved to Joyce and placed a hand on her shoulder. She shifted away, regarding him critically. “Did Marie die?” she asked bluntly.
Cherry frowned. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“If she did, Dane, was it your fault?”
Cherry’s face clouded and his mouth thinned. He swung his look to Durant and Adamson. “Did they say that?”
Joyce licked at her lips. Then Blake Durant pushed himself away from the tree trunk and made his way to the edge of the fire. He poked the ashes with a stick and turned to Cherry.
“Who fired the first shot, you or Traversi?”
Cherry stood sullenly before him for a long moment. Then he growled, “Traversi, damn you! I meant to get Marie past them. I didn’t think Traversi would risk hitting her. But he did.”
Blake nodded and looked down at the fire again. Ben Adamson, watching Cherry shrewdly, suddenly grunted a curse that made Joyce glare at him. Adamson ignored her searching look and walked slowly to Blake.
“What now, Durant?”
Blake shook his head and looked up at the high slopes that shaded the creek. “We’ve still got to get your cattle back, Adamson. We won’t get them sitting here.”
Adamson’s eyes brightened. “You’re still in it? You’d go back there with me?”
>
“I don’t like to leave things undone.”
“You’re both loco,” Cherry said tightly. “Traversi will hunt us down and if he finds us there’ll be a bloodbath. Marie was his girl. He’ll blame us for getting her killed.”
Joyce gasped. “But you just said that you didn’t know if she died or not. Are you lying to me?”
Cherry fixed her with a fierce look. “She was hit front on, damn it! I haven’t met the woman yet who could take a six-gun bullet there and live. So she’s dead and nobody’s lying, certainly not me.” He stepped back, dragging his hand through his curly hair. “Which means Traversi and his owl hoot mob will be out in force. I gave them the slip at sunup but they’ll find my tracks and come here. I reckon we’ve got about an hour, so make up your minds. You coming or not?”
Joyce looked anxiously at her father. “Pa?”
Adamson held her look for a moment before he shook his head. “I must get my cattle back, Joyce. If I lose them, I’ve got nothing to live for.”
She moved to him and placed a hand on his hairy forearm. “Pa, you still have me. Come with us. Dane will know where to go. We can start again.”
Adamson frowned and shifted away from her. “Can’t, girl,” he said. “There’s my ranch and the lifetime of work I’ve put in it. Maybe it ain’t much of a place but it’s mine. It’s got my brand on it and your ma is buried under it. I can’t ride away from that and I can’t let thievin’ scum take my cattle. If I walk away from this I’ll never be able to live with myself.”
Joyce pursed her lips thoughtfully and suddenly said, “Then why can’t we go to another town and find an honest law officer? We could get him to investigate the mattter for us.” Her eyes brightened. “Why not, Pa?”
“Because that would be a waste of time,” Dane Cherry put in. “If the law did come and make an investigation, they’d find themselves listening to a town full of liars and cowards. Traversi would have no trouble convincing them that he’s done no wrong, especially when a sentenced man broke jail and when a girl was killed, along with a deputy. Can’t you work out the story Traversi would put up?”
The Loner 6 Page 6
