Reuben’s mouth curled upwards in a smile of recognition. It was Sal McIntyre.
Chapter Eleven
Riding Out
Sal McIntyre walked slowly to the livery stables and asked the boy to prepare her horse. She needed to get out of town and into the hills where she would have some space to empty her mind. She shuddered as the boy handed over the reins, then she swung herself into the saddle. The words of Reuben Kane and John Miles kept repeating in her head and she realized that they had been right. She had killed men, almost without compunction or regret. She knew deep down that she had changed as a person and the realization disturbed her. She wondered if she would ever be able to return to what most people would call a normal life, or if the changes in her were permanent. Deep down in her gut she knew that she still had to deal with Shep Cassidy, Crazy Pete Robinson and in all probability Abraham Coulson. She felt on the one hand that she had no choice in the matter and that she could never go on living until Ed was avenged but part of her was drowning in doubt and guilt. Her determination to avenge Ed’s murder had been the direct cause of the deaths of several people. She had killed people in cold blood and she couldn’t, even to herself, pretend that she had simply had justice in her mind when she had killed the Davies boys. She had been driven by a mixture of motives, one of which was pure hate. She had felt satisfaction – no, not satisfaction – almost elation, mixed with a terrible guilt when she killed them.
‘But they were vermin, Sal.’ She suddenly realized that she was talking out loud to herself again. Vermin or not, she had experienced strange emotions when taking human lives. It wasn’t something she cared to dwell on and she seriously wondered if she had sunk to the level of Shep Cassidy and his ilk, who killed for fun.
Such were her thoughts as she rode up the main street towards the edge of town.
The days with Reuben Kane had taught her a lot and as she rode she scanned the street from side to side to ensure that there was no sign of anyone who might be a danger to her. Her left hand held the reins loosely, within distance of her Colt. Her right hand was left free, resting inches above the Winchester in its holster on the side of her mount. She reckoned that the saloon would be a possible place for an enemy to fire at her through the swing doors out of the darkness beyond. Glancing to her right, she saw a familiar figure sitting on a rickety chair next to the saloon door, his hat pulled down covering his eyes and his limp looking hand lying on the butt of his sidearm. She turned her horse toward the saloon and dismounted in front of him. She was smiling and she was about to wake him when he spoke from under the hat.
‘Hello, Sal,’ he drawled. ‘Try to look as if you ain’t recognized me.’ Sal didn’t realize that he had seen her and was surprised when she heard the voice. Anyone not in earshot wouldn’t have known he had even spoken. Indeed, they would have noticed nothing as neither Sal nor Reuben showed any sign of recognition.
The marshal continued in his quiet drawl.
‘Good to see you. Pretend you ain’t seen me and look like you are checking your saddle or something. Take your time doing it, so it don’t look suspicious, then look like you’ve sorted whatever problem you had and get on your horse and ride north. Follow the trail past Jack Farrow’s place – that’s the Crossed Snake ranch. There’s a rocky outcrop about a mile on and an old cabin next to it. I’ll follow you after I’ve left a bit of time. I want to ensure that if anyone’s looking, they won’t realize that we’re connected. I’ll meet you there at the cabin. There’s lots we need to talk about if you’re still intent on your damn fool plan to get Cassidy. I’d like you to consider a few points afore you get us both killed.’
Sal was annoyed that he’d referred to her plan in such a derogatory way. She wanted to round on him and to point out to him that she’d never asked him to come to Redwood and he could get the hell back to wherever he came from. But she knew that to show any sign of recognition could be a fatal mistake so she held her tongue and went through the motions of tightening her saddle, then led her pony back into the street before mounting and riding north out of town. When her annoyance had subsided she was surprised, as she rode away, to realize just how pleased she was to have met up with Reuben and indeed she found it hard not to look back. Naturally she was relieved to know that she had an ally against Cassidy and his partners. But there was more than that. She was . . . well, she was genuinely happy to see him. She had, she told herself, felt alone and vulnerable and now she would have Reuben to talk to as a friend.
‘But you’ll have a piece of my mind first, Reuben Kane.’ She became aware that she had spoken her thoughts out loud yet again and laughed quietly to herself. ‘This talkin’ to yerself is becoming a habit, Sal.’
The dry, dusty road led out of town and she turned the brim of her hat down to shield her eyes against the blazing sun which scorched her from a blue, cloudless sky. She pulled her neckerchief up around her mouth in an ineffective attempt to keep out the dust. She passed the Crossed Snake and before her lay a wilderness, dry and arid. Years ago a crazy prospector had arrived, believing for no discernible reason that there was gold in the ground. His crazy scheme had come to nothing and he had left penniless, leaving the hut which she saw in the distance as the only evidence that he had existed at all. When she reached the hut she sat outside, leaning against the wall under a dilapidated wooden canopy which provided the only shade from the relentless sun. She had a view of the road which she had just travelled and she sat in the enormous silence, letting her mind drift but simultaneously keeping a close eye on her surroundings. A lizard scuttled across a small rock at her feet then stopped and looked at her in surprise before disappearing into a hole, its tail flicking at her as it went to earth.An hour passed without any sign of Reuben Kane and she began to wonder if she was at the correct venue. Perhaps there was another rocky outcrop and old hut?
Unlikely. She shielded her eyes from the sun and peered to the horizon. Then she saw him. He was quite close but had somehow stayed out of view, keeping to the small dry river beds which criss-crossed behind the hills. He obviously didn’t want to be seen. Eventually he reached the slope which led up to the cabin and she heard the muffled sound of hoofs made by his pony and saw the dust cloud which swirled lazily around the rider.
When he reached her she didn’t stand up and he didn’t dismount. He smiled and nodded. She reciprocated and there was silence for a few seconds as if they were both embarrassed and tongue tied.
‘Hi, Sal. You OK?’
‘I guess. And you? Are you recovered?’
He nodded, smiled and dismounted and she slowly rose to face him.
‘I was worried about you, Sal. Wondered what had happened. What you—’
‘I was worried too, Reuben,’ she interrupted. ‘About you. I’m sorry about what ha—’
‘No need. It happened. No sense in raking over it. Can’t change the past and regrets are energy wasted.’
They stood facing each other in a slightly confused, slightly uncomfortable silence. Neither knew what to say. Reuben broke the silence.
‘I ain’t seen Cassidy or Coulson. It stands to reason that they ain’t seen me or I’d probably be taking the long sleep somewheres. I can’t be sure but I don’t think people are generally good at keeping secrets from the likes of Cassidy so my guess is that they know I’m around by now.’
‘Would they recognize us if’n they saw us, Reuben?’
‘Me? Definitely. You? I’m not sure. They only saw you in the heat of battle when—’
‘Not quite.’ Sal’s voice was flat. ‘Shep Cassidy and Pete Robinson saw me before the shootout. After they murdered my hu—’
Reuben clasped both hands to his face.
‘Sal. I’m sorry. It was stupid of me. I’d forgotten about the . . . the. . . .’ His voice faded away and he stood before her like an embarrassed schoolboy. Sal simply smiled very gently and spoke in an over firm voice.
‘No point in regrets, Reuben. The past is gone. So if we are to stand a cha
nce we must see them before they see us.’
‘That’s about it. You can be sure if they see us they’ll come out shooting.’ He nodded, still feeling embarrassed after his comments. Then he took some provisions from his saddle bags and for the next few minutes he avoided either conversation or eye contact by concentrating on making a fire, after which he brewed some coffee. When he turned back, Sal was sitting on a bench, fashioned from some logs and an old plank, staring quietly at the darkening sky as dusk began to steal the brightness from the sun. She looked beautiful, pensive and melancholy as she stared into space. Reuben stood watching her in silence for some time. ‘Coffee?’ He broke the spell with his request and she jumped slightly, as if she had not been aware of his presence, then she nodded and he poured her a mug.
‘You looked deep in thought. I’m sorry, Sal. I guess I raked up memories.’
She looked down and ran her fingers round the rim of the mug and he saw that she was near to tears. For a full five minutes they sat in silence, sipping the strong, black liquid.
‘I think I would like to.’
‘Huh? Like to what?’
‘Talk about it. I seem to have bin holding everything in forever and I’m afraid that one day I’ll just burst.’
Reuben didn’t press her and he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
‘It all happened so fast.’ Her gaze and voice were wistful and she continued speaking in a more distant, emotionless tone. She was still afraid that if she really started to cry she might never stop, but her apparently calm demeanour was betrayed by a slight tremor in her voice.
‘I was a rancher’s wife. A contented wife. Loving and loved. I’d never killed anyone. Never even crossed my mind that I would kill anyone. Now . . . now I’ve gunned men down and I’ve killed them without regret or remorse. More than that . . . I felt satisfied when I killed ’em. Deeply, profoundly satisfied. Yet the Bible tells me I shouldn’t kill. The Bible says that vengeance is the Lord’s. Well, I sure as hell was satisfied when I avenged Ed. I guess I can explain that to myself but the real trouble is that part of me actually enjoyed it.’
She remembered the deaths of Johnny and Rab Davies. She felt confused, guilty and weary.
‘I can’t even say I didn’t know what I was doing. I knew that what I was doing was bad. A voice told me to stop. My conscience, I guess. But I taunted Rab Davies afore I killed him. I knew that I was going to kill him but I actually taunted him.’
She turned towards Reuben, her face, still slightly bruised, features shining orange in the glow from the fire.
‘Does that make me a bad person, Reuben?’
Reuben flicked the last drops of his coffee into the fire, making it sizzle.
‘I don’t rightly know about what a preacher might say, Sal, but to my mind it just makes you human like the rest of us. Those men had taken what you loved the most and you were hurtin’ bad . . . you still are hurtin’ bad. When we’re hurt and confused we tend to behave in ways that we can’t explain. We do things we’d never normally do.
‘But when it’s done, we can’t change anything by regretting it. I guess that what’s important is that we’ve just got to learn and move on. Mebbe as a better person. Mebbe not. But the fact that you’re regretting it now means that you can and will change if you can start to forgive yourself. It’s only the future that counts now, Sal. The past is something we can’t change. Move on from it and forgive yourself.’
Reuben Kane rarely spoke more than a few words at a time and he had surprised even himself. Now, as he stood staring at Sal’s profile, he spoke again.
‘What are you thinking of now?’
‘Ed. My husband.’ Her voice was still distant and had a dreamlike quality.
‘D’you think about him a lot?’
‘What do you think? He was my husband, damn it!’ she retorted sharply. Then she muttered an apology. ‘Sorry. Yes, I think about Ed. Almost all the time. I loved him more than anyone or anything I ever knew. I guess I still do. Mebbe I always will.’
Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She wept silently and he wanted to hold her to him but instead he stood back in silence. He ached inside seeing her in pain, knowing that he could do nothing to assuage it. And so they remained, in a silence that was both distant and intimate. The world was silent except for the occasional snorting of their horses and the crackle of the fire.
The enormous sky above them looked down, impassive, eternal and mysterious.
Some time later, they sat underneath the stars talking. Sal had focussed her mind on the present and was asking Reuben questions about the best way to deal with Cassidy and his friends. She was resolutely determined to go into Redwood and finish Cassidy and his mob but she still hadn’t worked out any strategy for doing so and seemed intent on walking into Redwood with guns blazing.
Reuben was more pragmatic and he talked firmly and rationally. He was still trying to weigh up the odds in his own mind and to find a way in which he and Sal would have some chance, however slight, of achieving her objective and surviving. His preferred method was to bide his time and pick them off one by one, even if it took years. Sal wouldn’t even countenance such a plan.
‘I want to settle it now so’s that I can get on with my life. Every moment that passes with Cassidy and Robinson unpunished is a moment longer afore I can get back to living. I’d rather die than go on living knowing that . . .’ Her voice faded and angry tears took over. Reuben took his chance to try and inject some realism into their plan of action.
‘. . . So it looks like we have Cassidy, Crazy Pete and Abe Coulson to contend with. Coulson’s definitely in town. My guess is that they’ve got a couple more to help them. They need people to keep order when they’re away from town and they’ll have the sheriff in their . . .’
‘They had a sheriff. Sheriff Tucker. They ain’t got one no more. I killed him.’
To Sal’s surprise Reuben said nothing. She looked into his eyes, searching for a reaction but saw none. She didn’t know if he had already been told about Tucker, but whether he had or hadn’t he gave nothing away. Instead, he continued to guide the conversation back to tactics.
‘So that leaves Cassidy, Robinson, Coulson and probably some deputy sheriff.’
‘I guess so. So what do we do? Shall we take them?’
Reuben picked up a piece of wood which had broken off from the shed and he drew a pattern in the sand. He was thinking.
‘I think mebbe I should go back to town and find out if there is a deputy, who he is and how fast he is with a gun. Then we’ll know what we are up against an’ we can work out what to do. Looks like it’ll be four agin two at best. I’d wager they’ll have at least a couple of hired killers, which’ll make six. Coulson is probably the fastest of them all.’
‘I know.’ Sal’s voice was matter of fact and for a moment Reuben wondered why, then he remembered her telling him about Coulson outdrawing her at a competition.
Even after listening to Sal’s invective, Reuben was desperately trying to think of an argument that would persuade her to give up on her suicide mission. The two of them stood no chance, unless perhaps they could split Cassidy’s forces and have the element of surprise.
‘I think it’s best if you don’t go into town tonight, Sal.’ He looked at her to gauge her reaction and he was encouraged when she didn’t respond negatively. Cautiously, he proceeded to outline his half worked out plan.
‘Cassidy will be pretty wild about Tucker. He’ll be looking fer blood – your blood. We’ll need a good plan to make sure he doesn’t get it. I brung some food supplies in my saddle bags and mebbe you could stay here in the hut tonight. If we both go to town we’ll be spotted. It’s not often a woman comes riding alone into a town like Redwood and you’d stand out like a pig in a bathtub. If I go back to town alone I might be able to get around without being seen. I can see Frank and Margy and ask around about the deputy an’ such. I’ll come back at dawn. I cain’t see anyone travelling this road ton
ight, but best tether your pony behind the rocks and outta sight.’
It made sense. Neither wanted to leave the other but it was without doubt the safest course to take. Reuben saddled his pony, then as he straightened up Sal put her hands on his shoulders, reached up on tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
‘Be careful, Reuben. Cassidy and his scum will recognize you.’ Then, as if to cover herself she added, ‘I sure as hell don’t want to have to take them on by myself.’
Reuben smiled and tipped his hat back.
‘I ain’t aiming to meet up with them, Sal.’ He climbed up on to his horse and looked down at her. ‘Don’t worry. Any sign of trouble and I’ll hightail it back to here. See you later.’
Reuben’s lazy smile didn’t reflect what he was feeling. Questions tumbled around in his head. What if Cassidy had heard that he was in town? He knew that if this was the case he was a dead man. Cassidy and his bunch would be prepared and waiting to gun him down on sight. He had tossed up the odds in his mind and decided it was worth the risk to delay Sal’s visit to Redwood. This way, if she still insisted on going on her mission of vengeance, he knew that he would be at her side. They had come too far together for him to desert her now. Not only that, he was beginning to have stronger feelings for Sal than he admitted even to himself. He knew they could never be reciprocated. She still loved Ed and hopefully, when this was all over, she’d return to her ranch, start over and probably, in the distant future, find someone else. His growing affection for her was making him feel vulnerable. He knew that when he was fighting alone he could work out the odds in a cool, dispassionate manner to ensure that they were in his favour. If Sal was around . . . well, he wasn’t sure exactly what was going on in his mind but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the job with his usual single minded, ruthless coolness if he was worrying about her.
So he vowed to find out exactly who they were up against. He needed to know numbers, what they looked like and just how good they were.
Crooked M Killings Page 8
