“What if that dynamite buries that cave under a load of rock?” Caleb asked.
“Then at least those asshole partners of mine won’t get to it.”
“All right, then. Let’s go get that dynamite.”
Creek stepped away from the rock and pulled the canopy back down over it. Dusting his hands off, he shook his head and said, “We can tend to that once our original business is done. My partners are meeting me here any minute.”
“Now I see why you wanted to show me this right away.”
“Better to put my cards on the table first than take my chances on you finding out for yourself later on. I also thought you might want to get a better idea of the lay of the land in case you wanted to try and find a better spot.”
Glancing at the small clearing, Caleb said, “If I’m going to be any help to you, I’ll need to be here. I can’t hit much through twenty yards of trees.”
As Creek took another look to remind himself of what things looked like away from the river and those rocks, he seemed a little embarrassed. “Guess I ain’t exactly an old hand at this sort of thing.”
Caleb patted Creek’s shoulder. “If it took these other fellas this long to take a stand against one man, they’ll probably just scamper off when they see two.”
Although Creek started to grin, he twitched at the sound of approaching horses. “Guess we’ll find out shortly.”
Having heard the rumble of hooves and the snapping of twigs for himself, Caleb backed away from Creek so he could keep the miner in his sight while also watching for whoever else was on their way to the clearing. With all that trampling and rustling, there wasn’t any sense in the riders taking their time on their approach. On the contrary, they started emerging from the trees a little sooner than Caleb had expected.
The first one was a man of average build and long hair that hung past his shoulders in a way that made him look somewhat like the recently deceased General Custer. He wore fringed buckskins and gripped his reins with one hand as he surveyed the clearing with narrowed eyes.
Following behind the first man was a fellow who was almost as wide as his own horse. His thick face was covered by a full beard, which had ensnared more than a few dead leaves. His bulky body and ample gut made it seem like something of a miracle that his horse could carry him without breaking its back.
Even before the second rider could enter the clearing, the first had locked eyes with Caleb and reached for his gun.
The moment Caleb saw that, he slapped his own hand against the grip of his pistol and tensed the muscles in his arm to prepare for a draw.
“Who the hell’s that?” the first rider snarled.
Creek held up his hands, but didn’t move from his spot. “Take it easy, Albert. This man’s here on my invitation.”
“Why you sendin’ out invitations?” the second rider asked. “This is supposed to be between just us partners.”
“Caleb, that big fella’s name is Brass,” Creek said without taking his eyes off the fat man. “And neither he nor Albert believe in practicing what they preach.”
As if to prove Creek’s point, a third rider emerged from the trees. He was a slender fellow who wore spectacles perched upon the end of his nose. His bowler hat was dented a bit, but still complemented his gray coat nicely. The attire looked downright fancy in comparison to that of everyone else in the clearing.
“Who’s the dandy?” Creek asked.
Brass held out an arm that was thick enough to knock the man in the bowler hat off his horse without much effort. The skinny fellow pulled back on his reins before putting himself through that indignity.
“He’s with us,” the fat man said. “A new partner.”
“We don’t have any need for new partners.”
Cocking his head at an angle, Albert did his best to stare Caleb down. He lasted for all of three seconds before looking away. “We’re striking out a bit,” the man with the long hair stated. “Once we dig up what’s in that there hole, we’re throwing in on some jobs that can land us even more money.”
“Ain’t the gold gonna make us rich enough?” Creek asked.
Albert narrowed his eyes and put an extra sternness in his tone when he said, “Ain’t no such thing as too rich. Besides, no man can retire on gold dust, let alone three men. We can earn a lot more once we invest it.”
Caleb looked at Albert and Brass before finally settling his eyes upon the third rider. While the first two were busy staring daggers, the third one sat in his saddle and glared at Creek. Finally, Caleb felt a grin slipping across his face. “You didn’t tell him about the cave,” he said.
“What cave?” the third rider asked.
“The cave beneath those rocks. That’s where the real money is. Any partner worth their salt would’ve told you that much.”
The third rider looked at the fat man. “What is he talking about?”
“The hell if I know,” Brass grunted. His eyes searched wildly about until they settled upon the nearby twisting path of ice. “All the gold we got was pulled up from that there river. Well, it wasn’t frozen at the time.”
“What’s going on here?” the third rider asked.
Creek hadn’t been pleased when Caleb announced the existence of that cave, but he didn’t mind so much when he saw the trouble it had stirred up. “It seems like Albert’s doing fine spinning his own yarns,” he said. “Why doesn’t he do the talking?”
“Fine,” Albert snapped. “I will. You’re not a partner anymore, Creek, and that’s that.”
“On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that me and Brass decided, so that’s the way it’s gonna be.”
“You’d rather throw in with Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh?” Creek asked.
“We’re not exactly throwing in with him,” Albert replied while furiously shaking his head. “We’re just giving them some backing, is all. Lending them money. That’s all there is to it.”
“That backing will be greatly appreciated,” the third rider said.
“Greatly appreciated,” the skinny man repeated, “and paid back with interest.”
Brass nodded as if he’d been asked if he cared for a second piece of cherry pie. “Interest. You hear that, Creek? We can make this gold work for us.”
“Smart investing,” Albert said proudly. “That’s what it is.”
Creek allowed his arms to hang at his sides. He then looked over at Caleb before shifting his eyes toward the three men on horseback. Finally, he asked, “Have every last one of you lost your goddamn minds?”
The first two riders squinted in disbelief, while the third merely held his ground and watched what unfolded.
“It’s easy money, Creek,” Albert said. “We ain’t about to go out on any robberies or nothin’ like that. We’re lending out money to men who can pay it back in kind.”
“With interest,” Brass added. Looking back at the skinny rider, he asked, “Right?”
The third rider nodded. “Oh, most definitely.”
“Where’s the rest of them?” Caleb asked.
“Shut your damned mouth, asshole,” Albert grunted. “You don’t even have a part in this! Just who the fuck are you, anyhow?”
“I’m someone who’s starting to understand why Creek would want a new partner,” Caleb replied. “Now, I’m sure you men have already taken all the gold you could carry out of here, so keep it and be on your way. You’re not going to get the legal deed to this claim.”
Albert’s head snapped back as if he’d been rapped on the nose. “How’d you . . . ?”
“If one of you already had the documents, you would’ve set up an ambush instead of a meeting. Hey, Creek, you want to hand over your legal rights to this claim?”
“Hell no,” Creek replied.
“Then you got your answer, fellas.”
5
For the first few seconds after Caleb’s statement, none of the other men seemed to know how to respond. Albert looked over at Brass, only to get a perplexed lo
ok in return. By the time they looked back at Caleb, they still didn’t know quite what to do.
The skinny fellow who’d accompanied the other two didn’t seem quite so confused. He drew his pistol and held it high in the air over his head.
While Caleb shifted his aim toward the skinny rider, he wondered what the hell that man was doing. He got his answer when a rifle shot cracked from the other side of the nearby trees to send a round hissing toward Caleb’s head.
“Get to cover!” Caleb shouted as he ducked down low. “He’s signaling to someone else!”
“Wait a second!” Albert shouted as he gripped his own gun and raised his arm. “Don’t shoot Creek!”
“You had your chance to negotiate,” the skinny man replied as he lowered his pistol and fired off a shot. “Now’s the time for things to be carried out our way.”
Caleb’s first instinct was to knock that skinny rider from his saddle with one well-placed shot. Before he could squeeze his trigger, however, another shot was fired from the trees surrounding the clearing. Caleb wasn’t hit by the round, but could practically feel the hot lead pass through his hair.
“Back here, Caleb!” Creek shouted.
Hunkering down low, Caleb followed the sound of Creek’s voice while firing a few quick shots to cover his movement. The riders had already scattered and were laying down more than enough panicked gunfire to push Caleb back.
Creek was on the other side of the rocks with his back pressed against the rough surface. His gun was drawn and he leaned out to send one of his bullets toward the riders. Seeing Caleb slam into the rock next to him, Creek asked, “You hit?”
“No. How about you?”
“Nah. Them two couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.”
“What about whoever’s behind that rifle?” Caleb asked.
Gritting his teeth, Creek leaned away from the rocks to get a look toward the trees. When he heard another crack from that rifle, he was just fast enough to pull his head back before a bullet sparked off the rock a few inches from his face. “We may have a problem where that one’s concerned. This is the sort of thing I hired you for. Got any ideas?”
“Yeah,” Caleb replied as he reached under his coat to pull out a second pistol to match the .44 he was already holding. “It’s simple and bound to get real noisy.”
“I think I saw sparks from that rifle in those trees, straight ahead and to the left.”
Caleb nodded and did his best to picture the clearing in his mind. As he jumped out from behind those rocks, his intention had been to try and flush out that rifleman or at least drive him back far enough to keep from getting picked off. Once he left cover, however, Caleb ran straight into a more pressing concern.
Albert and Brass were off their horses and charging toward the rocks with their guns drawn. They pulled their triggers as quickly as they could, filling the air with more than enough lead to drive Caleb back.
“All right,” Caleb said as he slammed his shoulders against the rocks next to Creek. “Maybe I should try a different approach.”
Creek let out a frustrated breath and tightened his grip on his own gun. “I hired you to back my play, not catch all the lead for me. On the count of three, we’ll both take ’em on.”
“Better make it one,” Caleb said. “They’re headed straight for us.”
“All right, then. One and go!”
Without giving themselves enough time to think better about their decision, Caleb and Creek pushed away from the rocks and ran around them from both sides. Even before he had a target in sight, Caleb was firing his pistol. To his right, Creek was firing as well. Suddenly, that little clearing felt more like a battlefield.
Brass was the first man to catch Caleb’s eye, simply because he was the biggest and wasn’t doing a thing to hide himself. Rather than look for cover, Brass had a .45 in each meaty hand and was pulling both triggers at the same time. He let out a visceral roar, which made the big fellow look more like a wild animal.
In contrast to the big man, Albert had picked his spot and dropped to one knee so he could better defend it. Although he’d been smart enough to present a smaller target, there wasn’t anywhere for him to hide and he quickly found himself directly in Creek’s sights. Before Johnson could pull his trigger, Albert tossed his empty pistol in favor of something with a little more kick.
“Shotgun!” Creek Johnson shouted as he dove to the right.
Caleb didn’t waste a second to look. Instead, he took Creek at his word and jumped to the left a split second before a thunderous blast exploded from less than ten paces in front of him. When he opened his eyes again, Caleb could see Brass grinning down at him. Caleb’s ears were ringing from the shotgun’s blast, but he didn’t need to hear the bigger man’s voice in order to get a pretty good idea of what was being said.
Muttering what had to be a victorious taunt, Brass sighted along the top of one pistol and took aim at Caleb’s head.
Caleb reacted from pure instinct. His arm snapped up and his finger tightened around his trigger in the space of a heartbeat. His ears were still ringing enough so the bark of his own gun wasn’t much more than a muffled thump. Even so, the sight of Brass reeling back from catching one of Caleb’s bullets was nothing short of glorious.
“Toss that shotgun, goddammit!” Creek hollered as the gunshots died down enough for his voice to be heard. “This don’t have to pan out this way!”
“You had your chance, Creek,” Albert replied. “Hand over the deed or I’ll cut you in half.”
There was no doubt in Caleb’s mind that Albert meant what he’d just said. There was plenty of doubt as to whether or not Caleb could do anything before the rifleman in those trees picked them both off.
The rifleman stretched out with his belly on the ground. The dirt was so cold that it felt more like frozen rock beneath him. Gritting his teeth and letting out a slow breath, he gazed through the steam drifting up from his mouth and focused on his target. His finger slowly tightened around his trigger as he prepared to send a round straight through Caleb’s head.
“Not a very good day for hunting,” said someone from behind the rifleman.
Before the rifleman could turn to get a look at who’d spoken, he felt the cold touch of iron against the back of his head. Hearing the click of a pearl-handled .38 being cocked was just the icing on the cake.
“You wouldn’t be taking aim at those fellows over there, would you?” Doc asked as he leaned down to follow the rifleman’s line of sight. After a second or two, Doc nodded. “I believe you are. That’s not very sporting at all.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting into, mister,” the rifleman said. “Now’s your chance to walk away.”
As the gunshots had rolled through the air and the men in the clearing had shouted back and forth to one another, Doc still looked as if he was out for a leisurely stroll. When he gazed at the rifleman, it was as if he was studying a poorly drawn landscape. “Why is it that men like yourself always feel the need to give ultimatums when you’re the ones at the disadvantage?”
The rifleman’s jaw hung down as he let out a loud breath.
“I see I’ve used too many big words,” Doc said. “Why don’t you just set that rifle down and we can watch things unfold from here?”
“You’re gonna shoot me.”
“Oh, I doubt there’s any need for that. I have confidence that my associate can handle himself just fine so long as he doesn’t have someone taking shots at him from hiding.”
“If your friend is Creek Johnson, you’re in for some bad news.”
Doc craned his neck to stare toward the clearing. “Really? The situation doesn’t seem so grave from here.”
The shooting had died down and the men in the clearing were talking. Doc and the rifleman were too far away to make out exactly what was being said, but Doc looked on as if he was soaking up every last word. The rifleman, on the other hand, wasn’t so content to stay in his place.
Slowly stretching o
ut one arm, the rifleman slipped his fingers back around the weapon he’d been forced to relinquish. Before he could close his grip completely, he felt the barrel of Doc’s gun press against the back of his head so hard that it drove the rifleman’s face into the ground.
“If you’re trying to make this bloody,” Doc hissed, “that’s just the way to go about it.”
The rifleman kept his hand where it was as he squirmed to get a look at the man pointing the gun at his head. “You’re that lunger cardplayer, aren’t you?”
Doc didn’t respond to that directly. Instead, he leaned some more of his weight behind his pistol and warned, “Don’t make another move or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Cough on me?”
Doc’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the rifleman. His face was already pale, but it looked even more chilling as the rage boiled up inside of him. Before he could say another word, he was being shoved aside as the rifleman rolled onto his back and knocked Doc’s gun away in the process. The move happened so quickly that Doc didn’t get a chance to do more than curse at himself as his gun was swatted from his hand.
The rifleman was still smiling as he got his legs beneath him and balled up his fists. Before he could take a swing at Doc’s face, however, the Georgian dentist had pulled a small blade and was lunging at him. When he felt the blade cut through his flesh, the rifleman wasn’t smiling any longer.
Brass flopped on the ground as he let out a series of pained, sputtering grunts. He’d let one of his guns slip from his grasp so he could press that hand against the bloody wound in his ribs. “You should’a killed me, Injun,” the big man grunted.
Caleb only watched Brass long enough to make certain the big man wasn’t able to carry out his threat. When he saw the big man was still struggling to stay upright, Caleb was content to point the gun in his left hand at Brass and cover Albert with the gun in his right.
The Accomplice: The Silent Partner Page 5
