by E A Lake
"But you're not gonna die today," Liv added happily. "I can just feel it. Maybe you won't win, but I bet you’re back all in one piece by dark."
"Either way," Sara said, pulling me in for a long, tight hug. "I love you. Not like Morgan loves you, but you know what I mean."
"Yeah, me too," I replied somberly.
She kissed me, right on the lips. And it didn't feel wrong, even though I knew my wife was probably watching from inside.
Sasha also kissed me, on the lips as well, and then hugged me tightly. "I think I could have loved you like Morgan does," she said quietly. "You know, if she wasn't my best friend and all."
I turned to Liv and received a bone-crushing hug. For a skinny late-20-something, she sure had a lot of strength.
"You're the kind of man I hope to meet and marry someday," she whispered, wiping some of her tears on my jacket sleeve. "I'll see you when you get back later; I don't like goodbyes."
I held her at arm's length as she brushed some of her hair over her shoulder so it tumbled down her back. She'd given up the guise of happiness, letting her tears leak from her lower lids like a gentle free-flowing river.
"Just in case," I said, watching her shake her head at me. "You be good and if you see Shaklin coming, hightail it out of here. That goes for all of you."
"Never," Liv replied, giving me a hard kiss on the lips.
I gasped slightly afterwards. There was a lot more passion in her than I had ever imagined. Besides that, I knew she had never kissed a man before. Not like that at least.
"I'm not leaving," she continued resolutely, "because you'll be back."
We came together for one final group hug before I shooed them inside. Each shot me one last glance and a tender smile before I turned to see if Art and Petri had brought the horses yet.
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED SIXTEEN
"Well, this is a real shit-filled day," Art crowed as I grabbed the reins to my horse. "I don't suppose it would have been too much bother for Ed to pray for decent weather."
I ignored his gripe and led my horse away from my home. "The others will meet us at the office in a few minutes. I want to give Cooley, Brutus and Robert some last-minute instructions before we head to Farmersburg."
"We really not gonna bring any guns, boss?" Petri asked nervously. "Doesn't seem like a very good idea to me."
"Me neither," Art groused.
"It's the way it has to be, gentlemen," I replied, adjusting the brown cowboy hat on my head. I wasn't used to wearing one, but I needed something to keep the moisture off my head and face.
"You really gonna let your pa and his people pray in front of Shaklin?" Petri further inquired. "That seems even dumber than us taking no guns. He's just gonna laugh at us and take what's ours...if he don't kill us first."
"That's the plan, boy," Art replied gruffly. "What the hell though. If we ain't armed, someone may as well be praying for us."
Maybe, just maybe. I was still rolling around the new plan in my head. I had reservations with putting too many people in harm’s way just to end up losing in the end. Perhaps Plan B (mine) was better than Plan A (Ed's).
"What would you think if I took off alone and went to bargain with Shaklin on my own?" I asked the pair, but mostly Art. Given the scowl on Petri's face, he didn't think it was a good idea at all.
Art twisted his lips, pulled at his beard and nodded for a moment. Good, maybe he'd had the same idea. If that was the case–
"I'd say it was about the damned stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your lips, Sheriff," he replied as though it weren't a big deal. "Nope, check that. It is the stupidest idea you've ever had. Only a fool would ride into a shitstorm like that alone. And to be frank about it, you ain't no fool."
Whatever. I was still tossing the idea about in my head. Perhaps it needed a few refinements. Like just doing it and not telling my nay-saying deputy first. That and the fact that Pastor Tim was still not back and we had to leave in an hour.
A large group of us met at the office, everyone's exterior dampened a bit by the drizzle. I suppose if I was honest, I'd say their collective mood matched the weather spot on.
"So we all ride to Farmersburg together," I announced, watching for nodding heads. There were a few. "Then we collect Ed's people and we head towards Shaklin Road. I don't want to get too far ahead of Ed's group since they'll be two to a horse. I'm just happy Lucas was able to help out rounding up another hundred of them."
"Maybe he'll take the horses in trade for our lives," someone said from the group. When the crowd parted, I noticed one of the townsfolk, Dicky someone, blushing slightly. "Well, it's just an idea."
"He'll probably take them anyway," Ronnie added honestly. "Even if he kills us first."
No one dared disagree either with the horses or the killing. I had a true group of realists assembled before me.
"Robert, Brutus and Cooley will be here at the office with a normal contingent of 10 scouts watching the perimeter of town," I continued. "They should know the outcome by tomorrow morning at the latest. I've advised them not to engage Shaklin in battle if he shows up instead of us. They've all told me that Shaklin can go to hell and they'll fight him to the death."
I noticed a few people flinch and a lot of sorrowful expressions. "Their choice, not ours, folks. Now, any questions before we mount up?"
"Are we really not taking our guns?" someone asked from the front row.
"Yes sir," Ed answered for me. "No guns."
The questioner gawked at me and all I could do was shrug. Unless I changed my mind before Farmersburg, we were going with Ed's plan, foolish or not.
I took Ed aside as people filed out the front door in search of their horses. "Where the hell is Tim?"
Ed shook his head with sad eyes to boot. "Not here, I'm afraid."
"No shit, Ed," I shot back bitterly. "I suppose this means your secret weapon isn't coming through now."
He stood taller, squaring his shoulders. "Have faith, son. We may find him waiting for us in Farmersburg."
I sighed and left him alone. Yeah right. Pastor Tim, the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus and Jesus himself might all be there together. Although at that point, I was giving better odds on Santa than any of the other three.
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED SEVENTEEN
The ride to Farmersburg would take about an hour. Shaklin Road was another hour and a half from there. If we took an hour to assemble Ed's troops that would mean the meeting would happen four hours at most after our departure from Pimento.
According to several watches on the scene, we were ready to leave home at 8:30, which would put us in front of my old business partner somewhere between noon and 1:00. That matched the time schedule Shaklin had given us – sometime around mid-day.
"You're awfully quiet this morning, son," my father said to me as he rode on my left. I took a peek at Morgan on my right before answering him. She might have known my alternate plan after all.
"I'm just thinking," I replied, being as noncommittal as I could.
"About what a wonderful life you have?" he asked sincerely. "You know, your mother and I were talking in bed last night. You really have a nice town in Pimento with many nice people. You have wonderful friends as well there. I know you've already heard the rumors, but I wanted to make sure it was okay with you."
I glanced at him and smiled. "About?"
"Us moving to Pimento when this is over," he replied loudly. "We may not even go back and collect our belongings up in Terre Haute. They can be given to the poor and broken. They'll probably go to better use that way. We have everything we need in Pimento, son. The love of you and Morgan, followers of Christ and we'll be breaking ground for the new church when we get back."
I looked at him, puzzled. "Breaking ground?"
He tossed his hands a little to each side. "Beginning renovations of that old barn. It will make a grand spot to worship the Lord, don't you think so?"
"I do," Morgan replied sweetly. "I think it's a wonderful plan, all
of it. Don't you, Quinn?"
Chances were I'd be dead before nightfall. Ed might meet the same fate. Morgan would be tied to whatever post Shaklin could find. What those two needed was a dose of reality.
"Yeah, I think it's a splendid idea...all of it." They'd be facing the facts soon enough, so there was no need for me to rain on their parade at that particular moment.
Something felt wrong the minute we rode into Farmersburg. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was awry.
Lucas met us near the encampment with a worried look, which didn't help my anxiety any. When he strolled our direction as we dismounted, I saw that he was shaking his head slowly. Double shit!
Ed shouldered against me as Lucas came closer, cupping a hand to his mouth. God, what now?
"You got a little problem," he said just above a whisper with his baritone voice. "Nothing terrible...but not good, Quinn."
I searched the small mass of humanity behind him, Ed's people. Those who were there seemed ready to leave, but their numbers looked thin.
"Ed? How many people are supposed to be here? Two hundred or so, right?" I'm sure my question sounded bitter.
"Yeah," he answered timidly. "The rest must be–"
"Gone," Lucas interrupted. "About half of them left last night. Right after they got a pep talk from a group of strangers who came riding through."
Shit, the three cousins had been there and spilled the beans. Lucas must have noticed my sour expression.
"Yeah, I figured you knew about Shaklin spreading the word around," Lucas continued. "Real great guy. The kind you wouldn't mind disappearing some night. You got just over a hundred still here and they appear to be ready." He thrust a thumb over his shoulder at the small crowd. "Was never going to be a fair fight, Quinn. Sure as hell ain't one now. And I got more bad news for you, too."
Great. My head rolled forward and damned near off my shoulders as I tried to imagine what else could have possibly gone wrong.
"None of these folks have any weapons, buddy," Lucas whispered while I was still staring at my boots.
"They're not supposed to have any," Ed replied proudly.
Okay, I had to look up to see how Lucas took that bit of joyful news. As expected, he was glaring at Ed as though he'd just been fed a dog shit sandwich.
"You'd better say that again, Ed," Lucas sputtered. "Because there's no way I just heard you right. They ain't supposed to have any weapons?"
"We ride with the cross of–"
"Save it, Ed," I groused. "What we're riding with is a whole lot less people than we need."
My father smiled broadly and placed a hand on each of my shoulders.
"You and I could go alone and we'd be just fine, son," he beamed. "We have nothing to fear."
"It's been nice knowing you, Quinn," Lucas added, shaking his head with a frown.
"He's fine, just fine," Ed continued. "He'll be back safe and sound by sundown."
Lucas seemed unmoved by Ed's optimism. "I'll say something nice at your funeral, old buddy. I'll even put in a good word or two for Ed."
I sighed and walked away, holding my head. It was time for my plan. I needed to tell Ed how it had to be.
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED EIGHTEEN
I took my father aside and drew a deep breath. There was no sense in going forward with Ed's help. All it would accomplish was a mass suicide.
"I need to talk to you about something, Dad," I said quietly. "And I need you to hear me out before you reply."
He nodded and removed his black preacher's cap, as he called it. It looked slightly older than him.
"I'm going to ride on by myself," I continued. "I want you to take everyone else back to Pimento. I'm going to go meet with Shaklin by myself."
He shook his head wildly and opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
"This has gone from awful to horrid," I continued. "We're outmanned, outgunned, out maneuvered...hell, I don't even know why I'm going anymore. But I do know that I need to face Shaklin and I need to face him alone."
My father's face took on a calm, warm glow. Whatever crap he was about to spew must have been something he was saving for just an occasion.
"I could never let you do that, son," he said sympathetically. "There are too many lives at stake, and one very important one to me."
Of course; Belinda. Leave it to my father to give me a gut punch right before game time.
"I'll do what I can to make sure Belinda is safe," I replied. "I'm not sure how I'll do it, but you can count..." I let my words trail off as Ed smiled and shook his head.
"Your life, son," he replied, pressing a palm against my chest. "You've done so much for all these wonderful people I've met this last little bit. Every last person has nothing but praise for you. You're special, Quinn. I didn't know that before, but now I do. I don't think I measure up to be half the man you've become."
His little speech touched me deeply. For years, I'd assumed he didn't give a damn about me or any part of my life. Two years back when I had tried to talk to him on a brief visit, he chased me away like I was a stranger. Even when I went to him for help the previous month, he greeted me with a piece of lumber.
"I need to go with you because of what I've done," he continued. "I promised you a lot more people than what we have here. Many, many more. I've let you down."
"I always thought you were disappointed with me," I replied, trying to hide the catch in my voice. "I've always felt like I was the one who let you down."
"Nonsense, son," he replied, hugging me tightly. "That was just a tired old man taking out his frustration on you. If I'm honest about it, a man couldn't be any prouder of his son than I am of you."
"But I messed everything up," I said, trying to figure out if this was another one of his angles or if he actually meant what he had said.
Staring intensely at me, he nodded slightly. "You righted a wrong. You did something that others would have taken a pass on. Sure, we're going to pay some kind of price for that today. But what you did has changed the lives of more than just your five friends. It's given an entire community hope."
I sighed, accepting his words as sincere. He had no ulterior motive; he probably just needed to say it before meeting his maker.
"We might not make it back today, Ed. Right now, the odds aren't looking too favorable."
He nodded. "I know."
I expected him to break into a “Trust the Lord” or “God will ride with us” speech. Instead, he glanced at our group and then back at me.
"And if this is the way it's supposed to end..." He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Then so be it. At least we'll do it all as family. I wouldn't want it any other way, Quinn."
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED NINETEEN
It took just under an hour to get the few souls who would be going with us ready and mounted up. Staring at the crowd, I wondered how many of them would be returning to their homes. Hopefully, Shaklin would have mercy on some of us...them.
Lucas came towards me with his right hand extended and a sad smile. I shook his hand and, of course, he pulled me in for a tight, back-slapping bear hug.
"I love you, brother," he whispered in a sad voice. "I wish I could come with you, but it's probably not a good idea."
No, coming with was not a good idea for Lucas. He knew that I needed him to look out for the folks of Pimento as well as his own people. No sense in losing two good lawmen in one day.
"When you get there," he continued, finally letting go of me, "you'll know what to do. You'll see the situation for what it's worth and you'll have a plan. Hell, you probably already got three or four plans bouncing around in your head."
He was right on one account: I was hoping for an epiphany when I got to the meeting. As for a plan, or multiple plans, he couldn't have been more wrong.
"If you get word that this goes down badly," I replied, noticing Art holding the reins to my horse some 30 feet away. "If it goes like it might, get up to Pimento right away and get the rest of them g
one. Do whatever you have to do to make Sara, Sasha and Liv disappear into thin air, will ya?"
He nodded and gave me one more hug. "I'd wish you good luck," he whispered into my ear, "but guys like Quinn Reynolds don't need luck. They already got what it takes."
I left the conversation there and mounted my horse. Lucas, it seemed to me, couldn't have been more wrong if he had tried.
Our small mass of people rode quietly in the cool fall drizzle. We had two hours before we'd meet Tony Shaklin and his well-armed militia and it seemed no one wanted to waste any energy on prayers that they'd need later.
"Would you like me to lead us in song, son?" my father asked as I listened to the slow methodical clomps of the horses' hooves. Leave it to him to try and cheer me up, as if there was any chance in that.
"What I'd like is a fair shake," I replied solemnly. "This doesn't make sense, none of it."
He shot me a confused look. I guess further explanation was needed.
"We don't have guns, we don't have anywhere near enough people and we don't have much of a plan." I paused to see if he'd interrupt, but for once he didn't. "We've got Charolette and Morgan with us, mostly unprotected. So what's to stop him from just forcefully taking them from us? And when this is all said and done, what do you think the chances are that I'm still alive? Anything but zero is probably the wrong answer by the way."
Ed smiled and leaned back in his saddle. Letting some of the drizzle collect on his beard and face, he appeared slightly childlike.
"I know you think my faith is both foolish and fraudulent, Quinn," he replied, wiping his face with his coat sleeve. "But I have to tell you that it's real, absolutely real."
"Are you nervous?"
"Oh, a little, perhaps," he replied causally. "But mostly to see Belinda. The rest of it is going to work out."
And therein laid the problem. One of us was living in the moment while the other wandered through the tulips in la-la land.
