‘What happened to me?’ Sage asked his brother, who had walked toward the cell to look down at him. ‘I’m a little hazy on that.’
‘They jumped you as you passed the alley—three of them, although the only one I recognized in the dark was the one you got. A local no-good named Bob Brown.’
‘Who was he working for?’ Sage asked, since it no longer seemed that his brother could have been involved in this. Sage sat on his hard bunk, head hanging as he waited for Brian’s answer. He considered that he must have made a dismal sight just then.
‘Bob Brown was no longer in any condition to tell me, being dead,’ Brian said, with a faint smile. ‘I’d only be guessing if I said anything, but I think it’s the same crowd that’s been after me.’
After Brian? Sage shook his fuzzy head, but all that did was bring a rising jolt of pain into his battered skull. ‘What happened to me, Brian?’ he asked after another minute’s confusion.
‘Knocked yourself out good and proper,’ Harvey said almost gleefully. Sage’s troubles seemed to be amusing the deputy greatly.
‘You glanced back at the man behind the rain barrel and ran yourself right into those outside stairs at the mercantile.’
Sage made a low, muffled sound. ‘Hell of a way to end a glorious battle.’
‘It probably kept you alive,’ Brian commented. ‘I went there to break up a gunfight. I couldn’t identify anyone in the darkness. I saw you go down, the man behind the barrel flee—there were too many citizens at the head of the alley for me to risk firing that way again—and I crouched down to see if I could identify you.’
‘And you did.’
‘And I did. You didn’t seem to have been hit so we dragged you over here and tucked you in to see if you were going to regain consciousness anytime soon.’
‘Which I almost have. Brian, as you said, there was quite a crowd of men at the head of the alley, trying to see what was happening. All those men ... didn’t someone recognize the man behind the barrel as he ran out?’
‘No one’s come forward, but then a man waving a gun can make his way quickly through a crowd. And it was dark. He might not even have been a local man.’
‘You think you know who it might have been?’ Sage asked.
‘I don’t know if they weren’t local guns. The reason I think they were imported toughs is because you showed up just tonight. Someone might have been asking around about where they could find Paxton, and someone pointed at you. Newly arrived gunnies might have assumed that you were me.’
‘Could be, I suppose,’ Sage said, ‘but it seems a little unlikely.’
‘Maybe it is, Sage,’ Brian Paxton said, pursing his lips, ‘but then a lot of unlikely things have been happening around Trinity lately.’
‘You say someone wants you dead. Tell me, Brian, who would that be?’
‘That?’ Brian answered. ‘Well, that one’s pretty easy to answer: Charlie Cable, of course.’ His eyes flickered toward Sage. ‘And Beryl,’ he added, as their eyes met.
Chapter Ten
‘Beryl...?’ Sage tried to blink away the shock and confusion crowding his thoughts. Had he brained himself that hard? ‘What do you mean Beryl might have had it done? Why would she? Aren’t you two about to be married?’
‘In her mind we are. I started to wonder about things after she told me that you had written her a letter in which you said you had determined to ride to Trinity and kill me.’
‘I never wrote any such letter,’ Sage protested, although he had definitely planned to do just that.
‘What did you do?’ he asked Brian.
‘Do? What was there to do? I thought about it, decided that I knew you better than that. Why would my own brother decide to kill me?’
Perhaps because he had been told that Brian had murdered his parents—by Beryl. Perhaps because he was stupid, filled with the wish for vengeance and still prompted by the memory of a beautiful woman and all that she could offer—in dreams.
‘I was told that you killed Mother and Father,’ Sage finally admitted.
‘Told...? By whom?’ Brian’s eyes showed concern now.
‘Take your best guess.’
‘Beryl.’ Brian Paxton shook his head sadly, heavily. ‘Sage, I wasn’t anywhere near the ranch on the night that happened. I swear to you.’
‘You don’t have to, Brian, I believe you.’
‘I’ve been looking for the killer ever since,’ Brian said. ‘Now, it seems I don’t have to. Not anymore.’
‘She couldn’t have done that—she can’t be that evil!’
‘You still think not, after she deliberately gave each of us a reason for killing the other and then brought us together?’
Sage said dully, ‘I was supposed to invite you out to supper tonight—after dark.’
‘That would have wrapped things up neatly, the mood you were in.’
‘And if it didn’t work out the way she wanted it, I suppose she would have someone waiting to take care of us so that it would look like a shoot-out between us as she intended.’
‘No doubt about that,’ Brian said. ‘I would bet anything that Charlie Cable was also invited to supper.’
‘Why Cable?’
‘The judge’s son was kicked out of his father’s house and needed to find a place to spread his wings. He had no way of making a living so he turned to petty crime. I’m aware of some of his transgressions though I never had enough evidence to arrest him. He hated me for that, for being the town marshal—a job he thought his father would hand to him—and for owning a half-interest in a working ranch. And for Beryl, who hired him over my objections.’
‘He wanted her?’ Sage asked.
‘Doesn’t every man she’s ever met? Cable drifted that way, decided he had the right to what was mine. He brought in a few of his outlaw friends to try having me killed in Trinity when he could be on the ranch, far away from town. Some of those people are still hanging around, trying to claim the bounty Cable put on my head; Bob Brown, for example.’
‘Couldn’t none of them shoot from a distance,’ Harvey said from across the room, ‘and not a one of them had the heart to stand up to the marshal face to face.’
‘I’ve had some success dodging their bullets,’ Brian Paxton said, ‘but it has made my life a little ... uncomfortable.’
‘So you think that Beryl decided to send for a man who would stand up face to face with you—me?’
‘It seems likely, don’t you think?’ Brian said with a sigh.
‘I think it’s more than likely,’ Sage answered.
‘I was only counting on you not being so hotheaded that we wouldn’t even have the chance to talk before you forced a fight,’ Brian said, now studying his brother’s eyes with sadness.
‘To plan all of this for the hope of a house. She could have had the house, the ranch and all the income it brings in without any of this—without murder.’
‘She couldn’t be sure of that, Sage. And Beryl always wants to make sure.’
‘My God!’ Sage breathed softly. Then, looking up at the marshal, he said, ‘You know, I have a friend who had this all figured out, and told me to be careful, to at least talk to you first before I rushed in headlong and made the biggest mistake of my life—and I didn’t listen to her. I couldn’t believe it of Beryl. She even explained that to me—said I couldn’t see past the lace and the dreams.’
‘What do you think now?’ Brian asked.
‘I think that was one smart little woman I happened to meet on the trail to Trinity.’
‘Seems so. I’d like to meet her someday if she’s still around.’
‘She should be,’ Sage replied. He was thinking of the rough way he had guided Gwen to her aunts’ house and dropped her off like an unwanted dog so that he could be free to resume his grand scheme.
‘My question,’ Sage went on, ‘is what do we do now?’
‘Well, you’ll have to wash your face before we go, but I think the only right thing to do is ride on out
to the ranch. After all, when someone is good enough to invite you to supper, you should at least show up.’
‘It’ll give Beryl a heart attack,’ Sage answered. ‘At least one of us is supposed to be dead by now.’
‘They’ll still have their chance. I told you I’d bet my last nickel that Charlie Cable is there waiting for Beryl to serve dessert.’
‘So you mean for both of us to just ride up to the front door as if nothing’s wrong.’
‘That’s what I mean,’ Brian Paxton answered. ‘As of now there’s not enough evidence to arrest Beryl for anything. Maybe she will provide us with some.’
‘You’re a bold man, Marshal Paxton,’ Sage said.
‘Look who I was learning from, growing up.’
‘All right,’ Sage agreed after a moment’s hesitation, ‘show me where I can wash up and let me reload my Colt. I think I may be needing it on this night.’
‘I can almost guarantee it,’ Brian answered, and he led Sage to a small back room which served as the lawmen’s cupboard where a basin, ewer and almost-clean towel rested on a small stand.
‘Want me to go along, Marshal?’ a not-so-eager Harvey asked as they were leaving.
‘No, I need you around town to try keeping things peaceful. However, if you’d follow us along for a little way and make sure there are no uninvited guests trying to follow us, I’d appreciate it.’
‘All right, I can do that,’ Harvey agreed. ‘Boss, eat with one hand on your Colt.’
Brian Paxton grinned without answering. Within a quarter of an hour they were riding south, Sage reunited with his gray horse, which had been taken to the stable after the shooting, Brian Paxton on a strutting four-year-old bay. Sage glanced at his brother with some family pride. He was a striking figure in the night with his long blond hair curling across his shoulders.
‘You seem to have taken to the town marshal’s job well,’ he said, as they entered the long valley with sunset tinting the western sky to purple above the deep ranks of pines.
‘Well enough, I’d say,’ Brian answered across his shoulder as the high-stepping bay horse pranced along across the long grass of the valley floor. ‘It was daunting the first week or so, but you know how it is, every job takes a little breaking in. I like it well enough. Up until this recent trouble the job was treating me fine. Lately I’ve been searching each stranger’s face, watching every shadow. I don’t like living like that, Sage.’
‘Let’s end it tonight, Brian. Have we a plan?’
‘There’s really none possible, is there? We’ll go in and visit with Beryl, see how that twists up her able tongue and then wait and watch for a signal—there will have to be some kind of a signal.’
‘You think the gunman—Cable or whoever it is—will be alone?’
‘We can only hope. I don’t see why they would have thought they needed more men. Only one of us was supposed to return to supper this evening.’
Sage nodded and tried to reposition his hat. The knot that had developed on his skull made it hard to fit it comfortably. He was wondering how Gwen Mackay was doing on this night. Probably she had eaten with her aunts, exchanged a few tales, and gone to bed early, old folks not generally being night owls. He had some guilt nagging at his conscience concerning Gwen. Why that should be, he did not know.
He had done everything he had promised, helping her escape from the Vasquez country, seeing her safely home to her aunts. Still, he had not treated her kindly at times, and he knew it. She had only been a person to be gotten rid of. Just then she seemed like a girl he should never have let go.
He could see the shoulder of the big white house now in the murky light of evening. He paused for a minute, holding up his horse as did Brian Paxton. Without having discussed it they sat their ponies together, searching the land around them, watching for any shadowy movement, listening for any small, intruding sound in the dusk.
Starting on, they neared the house and Sage said, ‘Big, isn’t it?’
‘Certainly too big for any one man,’ Brian replied. ‘You know, Sage, Mother didn’t really want it.’
‘What do you mean? I thought it was her dream.’
‘No,’ Brian said, shaking his head. ‘She told me about it once years later. Dad felt guilty about her having to live in log cabins while they struggled through the early years, and after the ranch started to grow and he was making more money, he decided to spend some of it on building his wife a grand home.’
‘She always acted as if she loved the house—I remember her insisting she stay in it even while it was still being built.’
‘Yes, she did, but it was Father’s great gift to her after all of the suffering that had gone before. She knew his intentions and proceeded to make out that it was the finest gift a man could have given her. That gave Father a reason to remain proud; he had made Mother happy.’
‘They were a grand couple, weren’t they? They’d do anything to make each other happy.’
‘Anything,’ Brian agreed. ‘That’s the way it always should be, but so seldom is.’
There was a lantern burning in a front window and they guided their horses toward the hitch rail. Through the flickering shadows, they stepped on to the front porch and knocked on the door.
Beryl Courtney was wearing a black velvet dress, trimmed at the cuffs with lace. Brian was in the front, but Sage was clearly visible beside him. Her eyes widened and her warm expression dropped away and grew wooden for just a second. Gathering her composure quickly, she smiled a bright, meaningless smile although her eyes remained distant, cold.
‘Brian, Sage. It’s so nice to see you two together like this.’
Without apology Brian edged past the woman and into the living room, his eyes searching the interior of the house. Beryl nearly grabbed at his arm as he entered, but again managed to compose herself and gestured to Sage Paxton.
‘Please come in.’
Sage, who knew that Brian’s search of the house had been anything but idle, was surprised to hear his brother say, ‘The place is looking just fine, Beryl. You’ll have to let me give you a few dollars for the work you’ve done here.’
That seemed to shock Beryl more than seeing the two brothers together had. Brian offering her money for cleaning what she had taken as her own home—whoever she eventually shared it with—as if she were nothing more than hired help! Brian had his back turned toward them so that Sage could not read his expression, but he would have bet that his brother was smiling.
Sage could see no signs that dinner had been prepared; there was no scent of cooking in the air. Perhaps realizing this, Beryl fabricated excuses. ‘I thought you two weren’t coming. I thought there might have been some trouble in town that Brian had to take care of. It was getting so late.’
‘This is the time you told us to get here,’ Sage Paxton said. He was now almost certain that Brian’s conjecture was correct. They had been invited not to supper but to their own execution. Beryl was smiling. It was the prettiest damn smile, innocent and caring.
‘Can we at least have some coffee?’ Brian asked. ‘It was a long ride out here.’
There’s some on the stove,’ Beryl said hastily. ‘I’ll get it.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Brian said. He had already started that way. ‘I’ll do it.’ Brian’s hand dangled near his pistol. Sage knew that his brother wished to examine the rest of the house for lurking gunmen. He decided that his brother had become a pretty sharp lawman. Well then, at least one of them had profited from the past few years.
Sage eased past Beryl to follow, leaving the woman to sag on to the leather sofa as if the excitement of seeing the two Paxton brothers together had gotten to be too much for her. Perhaps it had.
Sage found Brian standing in the center of the room. He glanced at Sage and indicated the small kitchen table where two neat little cups of blue-painted white ceramic rested. Beryl had been expecting only one of them to return—if one of the two cups had not been intended for someone else entirely. Sage went
to the small kitchen window beside the back door and drew back the curtain to look out into the night-darkened yard. Brian shook his head.
‘The signal hasn’t been given yet,’ Brian said. Sage remembered that his brother was certain that there would be a signal given before the intended attack. Sage was not so sure, but a quick inspection of the shadowy yard revealed nothing.
‘What do we do now?’ Sage asked Brian.
‘Pour us a cup of coffee, then we’ll sit down and have a nice little chat with our hostess.’
‘They won’t wait long, Brian, she never planned on serving us supper.’
‘No, someone’s around somewhere—I can almost smell a skunk.’
‘He nearly has to be upstairs, doesn’t he? I can’t see anyone booting in the front door to come after us. Unless they were waiting for us to leave the house to attack.’
‘That’s too chancy in the dark,’ Brian believed. ‘Besides, I think that Beryl wants to watch it happen. She does like to be sure, as I’ve told you.’
‘That’s pretty dirty, for a woman.’
‘Someone who doesn’t mind burning two old folks in their bed is not the squeamish type.’
‘I wonder if she locked the door to their room after setting the fire so that they couldn’t get out,’ Sage mused pointlessly.
‘Did or didn’t, it was a hellish way to commit murder ... for a house and a piece of property. Let’s not let her get lonely,’ Brian said, splashing coffee into two heavy white mugs. He handed these to Sage and then filled one of the small cups on the table which he carried himself, placed on the low table in front of the sofa. Brian accepted one of the mugs from Sage, then turned again to face Beryl.
‘There’s still time to call it off, Beryl,’ Brian said.
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ she responded, with that innocent little smile of hers. ‘Call what off, Brian, the wedding, or...?’
‘Oh, hell, Beryl,’ the voice said from the stairway and their heads turned to see Charlie Cable standing there, shotgun in his hands. ‘It’s over—they’ve figured it out.
The Trail to Trinity (A Piccadilly Publishing Western Page 9
