Arizona (Shad Cain Book 4)

by Lou Bradshaw

  He moved down the bar and parked his beer next to my glass and said,

  “Don’t you remember me Cain? Cherry… Harold Cherry… I spent a season with you and some others up in the Big Horns.”

  I shoved his beer glass away from my drink, like I was afraid it would spread the plague and told him,

  “I remember now… Cherry it was… after we run you off, we referred to you as ‘Red Handed Cherry’. Yeah, there were a few who wanted to hang you and skin you when they found all the things they thought they’d lost hidden in your poke. I remember Salty Tucker takin’ odds that he could take hide off you in one piece… I was in for five pelts, but cooler heads saved you that night.”

  “Now there’s no need to drag up that stuff… it was just a misunderstanding. I don’t know why you want to talk so bad about me, Cain.”

  “Mostly it’s because it’s all true… and I just don’t like you, Cherry… Never did. Now you just get away from me.”

  With that I pulled out my Bowie and laid it on the bar in front of me. Cherry backed off and tripped over Dog, which sent him sprawling on the floor with beer foam covering him. He swore and went for his pistol. When I saw him fall, I naturally started to help him up, clean him up, and refill glass… Honest…that was my plan. But somehow his gun was kicked away and my knee wound up in his stomach.

  As he lay there doubled up howling and moaning I asked, “Are you all right, Dog?” Once again, he didn’t answer.

  I looked up and spotted, Catfish Smith, another of the old mountain men sitting alone at a table against the wall. I asked,

  “Catfish, you runnin’ with foul stench?” indicating the man on the floor.

  “Naa, Shad, I kinder got in trouble for shootin’ a cheat down in the flatland and had to light out ‘cause the feller didn’t hava gun. That pile on the floor there came in about a month ago, thinkin’ we was old pards… Been meanin’ to kill him for his aggravatin’ ways… just ain’t got around to it yet… Thought for a minute there, you was gonna take care it for me.”

  I laughed and said, “Good to see ya again, Catfish.”

  “Cain, is it? Well, Cain, this one’s on the house.” The bartender said as he set another drink on the bar. “I reckon Cherry was right on one thing at least… You ain’t runnin’… I’m Frank, and this is my saloon and tradin’ post.”

  I thanked him for his kindness and went back to my position at the bar. And Frank went on saying,

  “If you ain’t on the dodge, I need to tell you, there’s two things it ain’t healthy to be here in No Place… One naturally is a lawman. The other is a bounty hunter. Now, I don’t take you for a lawman, but you could be the other.”

  “No, Frank, I ain’t neither… There’s a fella up here that’s got something I want, and I’m here to try to make a deal with him. You might say I’m on a trading mission.”

  “Who might this party be? The one who’s got the merchandise.”

  “All I know is he goes by the name of Fargo. I couldn’t say that was a front name or a back name. They tell me he’s dark of skin and hair.”

  Frank was silent for a full half minute, as the stood rubbing something on the bar that only he could see. He finally looked up and said,

  “Friend, are you sure you want whatever he has bad enough to make a deal with a devil? Be forewarned, whatever the merchandise is, it must be worth a hell of a lot to you.”

  “It is.” I told him.

  “The best thing to do is to hang around for a few days, Fargo will come and find you.

  Chapter 15

  I didn’t know if that was what I wanted, but that was how it was going to happen if that boy was ever going to be back with his mama. I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t be sleeping in any of those rat’s nests I’d seen coming into town, so I left to go find a camp site.

  As I went out through the swinging doors, I came face to face with trouble. Actually, I came face to behind because that fella had his back to me. Normally, I don’t even notice a fella’s backside. But when a gent has one hand on the pommel and the other on the cantle of my saddle, I kinda take note of it. He looked like he wanted to climb up there real bad, but something was holding him back so I said,

  “Mister, you might get into that saddle easy enough, but you won’t get far. Either that gelding is gonna throw you and stomp you, or I’m gonna blow you out of the saddle. Either way… You lose.”

  “Oh… I ain’t goin’ to steal him. I was just admiring him and gettin’ as close as I could without tryin’ him”.

  He turned around and said, “You’re new here… In a place like this we have to set some kind of rules. And the first rule is we don’t steal from each other…. I’m Bob Tuttle, and I’m a horse thief by trade. Things got a little hot for me down below, so I’m lettin’ things cool off for a while.”

  “The name’s Cain, and I’m just up here to do a little bit of dickerin’ with a man…. It hasn’t come to me to ride the outlaw trail yet. But you never know how the wind might blow.”

  I found a nice camp site about ten minutes from No Place. There was water, grass, and I wasn’t worried about uninvited guests with Dog and Bud around. In fact I planned on letting folks know where to find me. I figured this camp and the saloon would be the only places I’d be, while I’m here. For a couple of hours, I worked around the camp getting in firewood and rigging up a lean-to. In higher elevations, clouds will pile up and a shower can appear in no time and be gone just as quick.

  Loafing around for a couple of days wasn’t what I’d come for, but no one was telling me anything. I couldn’t blame them… they didn’t know me, and they didn’t trust me. I think I had made a connection with Frank the saloon owner and with Tuttle the horse thief. But that wasn’t helping me get the boy back.

  I’d shot a young mule deer early on the second day. At least I wouldn’t starve, although Frank’s saloon made a fair beef stew. But I preferred cooking my own food. That way there was plenty of fresh meat for Dog too.

  The second night, I was awakened before midnight, by the cold wet nose of Dog. There wasn’t any thought of rolling over or pushing him away. He wouldn’t have done that unless there was a reason, and his reasons usually meant trouble. It was a comfortable evening, so I wasn’t sleeping in the lean-to. I usually like to move back from the fire so as not to be too easily seen.

  Opening my eyes, it only took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dark. There was still enough light from the dying fire to pick up the bulk of a figure standing in front of the lean-to. As quick and thoroughly as I could, I scanned the rest of the scene to make sure he was the only one… I couldn’t see anyone else.

  “Mister Cain?” He said in a loud whisper.

  “You can knock on the door, but he ain’t there.”

  He jumped back a few inches and stood stock still.

  “You just turn around and keep your hands where I can see ‘em, and move closer to the fire.”

  He did as I told him to and stood behind the fire with his hands held palm out at shoulder level. Looking him over as best I could under the conditions, I determined he was a man well past seventy or maybe even eighty years of age. His ill kept beard was heavily streaked with gray and the few hairs on his head showed up as white in the poor light. I wouldn’t have been in the least surprised if he’d have asked for something to eat… He looked like he could use it.

  “Speak what’s on your mind… I don’t figure you come here at this time of night to make sure I was tucked in and comfortable.”

  “Uh… No sir… but I do hope you’re comfortable. I was sent to ask you to follow me to a meeting with Fargo.”

  “Does he have the boy?”

  “Yes sir… and he’s well taken care of too.”

  I pulled on my moccasins, moved the coffee pot on to the coals, and then I saddled up. I offered my visitor a cup, but he declined. I had a feeling, I’d need a cup before I got back to camp. We left within ten minutes of Dog’s wake up.

  T
he moon wasn’t good for night riding in the mountains, but that was nothing new to me, and I was sure the old man had been on more than one moonless late night ride. We stayed on the main trail for about another mile, and then we turned south onto another trail and immediately started to climb.

  At one point I saw off to the southwest a cluster of lights. My first thought was Tucson, but some of the lights were moving. It had to be the rail’s end, that would be where they would turn the locomotives around, and get them headed east again. It was so far away, I couldn’t hear anything.

  The trail led back to the east on the side of the mountain and ran along the base of a cliff. The upper parts had disappeared into the darkness. Then we were climbing again and back in the pines. In the pines, we made a wide circle, which was noted by the direction of the wind on my neck and then my face. Up ahead was a dim yellow square of light.

  We were coming to a cabin with a low burning lamp or a candle in the window. My guide, whose name turned out to be Marcum Fisher, told me we were almost there. Then I saw the outline of the cabin against the sky. Looking back to the west, I could see the lights of the end of tracks behind me. I figured that would put us on top of that cliff I’d seen below.

  Tying up to the porch post, I told Dog to wait with the horses, but I knew he’d be laying at the door waiting for me to come out. A man has only a few friends, who can be nearly as loyal or patient as a good dog. Being a man who don’t make friends that easy or that often, I can swear to that.

  With that old rickety porch, there would be no way to sneak in that way, even in moccasins it sounded like a bass drum being played. Marcum opened the door and we walked into the dim room. It was lit up with only one candle. Across the room I could see the bulk of a man but none of his features.

  “You got the boy?” I asked.

  “I do… and who might you be”?

  “Cain… Just Cain… I want to see him.”

  “You ain’t Cain… I killed Cain… and he was a lot younger than you.”

  “You shot a boy named Crocket, but you didn’t kill him… we’ll take that up later. Right now, I want to see the boy.”

  “You’ll see him when I get the money.”

  “Him that’s got the money is gonna want more than you sayin’ you got him before he puts any cash in your hands… that’s just good business.”

  “I got the kid, and I’m in charge of this business deal… good business is what’s good for me.”

  “Then we got nothin’ to talk about. It was no pleasure meetin’ ya, Fargo.” I told him as I started backing to the door.

  “Hold on.” He said, and he took the better part of a minute contemplating and said, “I don’t reckon it wouldn’t hurt to have a look.”

  “Bring him out here.”

  Next to where he was standing, a blanket was strung across a corner of the room. The blanket moved and a small boy stepped out being pushed ahead by an old woman. The light was too dim to see much of either of them. I asked them to come closer, and they took about three steps before Fargo told them to stop.

  I picked up the candle and walked toward them. Fargo started to object, but I ignored him and went to one knee to be able to see the boy’s face.

  “You remember me, Sweet Ally?” I asked in a low voice, and he nodded.

  “You try anything, and I’ll kill the boy.” Fargo growled.

  “Now that wouldn’t make much sense would it?”

  “Alan, I’m still going to get you back to your mama, but you’ve got to be brave for a little bit longer, she’s on her way… you be strong and it will all work out.”

  “Tobe?” he said and it took me a few seconds to realize what he was asking.

  “He’s hurt bad, but he’ll make it just fine in a few weeks… He’s worried about you… but don’t you worry, we’ll get you home soon… Be strong and brave.”

  “That’s enough… you satisfied?”

  “I am.” I said as I squeezed the boy’s shoulder.

  The old woman turned the boy around and took his hand as she led him out the back door. So I figured this was just a meeting place. There must be another cabin or house somewhere within walking distance. I got to my feet and set the candle back on the little table by the window.

  Turning back to Fargo I asked, “How much?”

  “Two… no three thousand dollars…Gold.”

  I looked down, took off my hat, run my fingers through my hair, shook my head a few times before I said,

  “I reckon, they can raise that much … they’ll have to sell off some land and maybe take a loan, but I reckon they can raise it…” he had no idea who he was dealing with and what it would be worth. “Where and when?”

  “At daybreak in front at the base of the cliff below. Three days from tomorrow morning.”

  “Can’t be done… It’ll take that long to get the money here, and travel time from here to the depot and back.”

  After a bit of dickering, we came to an agreement on six days, which should be enough to get everything done. I was ready to back my way out the door, when I just had to ask,

  “How does Rankin figure into all this?”

  “Humpf,” that snorted, that worthless toad… he don’t figure at all… he gave me a lousy two hunnerd dollars to kill the kid when he showed up. But I figgered if he was willin’ to pay to have the kid killed, there’d be somebody willing to pay more to keep him alive… Just hedgin’ my bet. If you hain’t showed up in another week… I’d a shot him and be done with it.”

  “You’re glad I came along then?”

  “I’ll be gladder when you come back with that money.” Then he turned to the old man and said, “Fisher, you stay with him till he’s through town, and make sure he don’t double back.” The old man nodded.

  When we were back at my camp, and I was gathering up my gear, I asked him,

  “How’d you ever get mixed up with someone like that? You don’t seem the type, and your wife seems to have a fondness for the boy… she shows him real kindness.”

  “Oh… he’s kin, but that ain’t the reason… When I was a young man, I fell for a dark eyed beauty, and she felt the same. But her boss was a big fish in a big pond. He was rich and well connected all across Kansas. He’d been in the State Assembly at one time and a Judge later. I had a little spread, and it was starting to pay off, so I asked Nell to marry me. The boss threw a fit when she told him. He told her, he’d shoot me if I didn’t stay away from her… So I called him out.”

  “He stood in the window and shot at me from the house… we both shot four or five times each and I got a lucky shot and killed him… They would have hung me if I hadn’t lit out. Nell and me went on the run, and I was pegged as an outlaw, so I became one. That’s been forty years ago, and I done some bad things, but I only killed that one man. I ain’t proud of it, but Nell and me stuck together. If I thought I could, we’d go down to civilization and live among folks, but there’s still too many posters with my picture on ‘em.”

  “Tom Fargo is my brother’s boy, and his real name is Tom Fisher… I got out of the business about ten years ago, and he looked me up… he’s a mean one. He’s mean and cruel… I don’t think he’s got a soul… I’ve staked him a few times with eatin’ money. If he thought I had any money he’d kill us both for it.”

  It was a story I’d heard before, not the exact same story but a story like many others. There are moments in time that can change a person’s life forever. And it’s not always any fault of their own. I’ve known decent women who were forced into the flesh trade to feed their youngens because their man died or run off. I’ve known men who pushed back when pushed, only to wind up at the end of a rope… There’s no promise or guarantee that life is gonna run smooth.

  When my gear was all rolled up and tied on, we rode out. Fisher stayed with me for a couple of miles beyond No Place, and we parted wishing each other luck. I generally make my own luck if I can and don’t curse it if I can’t. But I didn’t see any kind of brig
ht future for Marcum and Nell Fisher.

  At the time, I couldn’t worry about the Fishers; I was more concerned with a future for a six year old boy.

  Chapter 16

  The sun was still an hour away from showing his face to all who wanted and needed his light to do what they needed done when we parted ways. Dog, Bud and, I were headed downhill toward the desert and Snake Junction. We couldn’t make good time on this mountain side in the dark.

  When it was light enough, I begun looking for water. I found it where I’d seen the old woman with the dead haunted eyes filling her bucket… I wondered what her story was. I filled the canteens and let Dog and Bud drink because I planned to head straight across country for the rails. I’d cut off a good many miles that way, but I didn’t know if there was any water to be had.

  With the foothills behind us, I put Bud into an easy lope and he shoved those miles behind us. I would slow down from time to time, not so much for the horse’s sake but for Dog’s sake. He was a big strong dog, but he wasn’t a long legged horse and he wasn’t built to run all day with no rest.

  The shadows were long when we reached Snake Junction. The first thing I did was take Bud and Dog to the water tank and climb up with a pair of buckets and let them drink.

  Poking my head in the station, and I asked the fella sitting at the clicker if the Captain was about.

  “You be named Cain?” he asked.

  “I have to be him… nobody else wanted the job.” I told him.

  “Well, he’s over to the train… been a waitin’ for ya.”

  I thanked him and walked the fifty or so yards to where the two car train sat. Dog had caught up before I reached for the hand rail to step up. Tapping on the door I walked on in. Cal Bailey was sitting at a desk with a stack of papers, and looked up as I came through the door. His face showed both hope and fear at the same time.