Entwined Paths (The Landon Saga Book 2)

by Tell Cotten

  “This time tomorrow, we should be at Landry,” Cliff figured.

  “More’n likely,” Brian agreed.

  “I hope Rusty lasts that long.”

  “I reckon he will. He seems tough enough.”

  Brian took a quick look around. Nobody was paying them any attention, so he lowered his voice.

  “You’ve got trouble coming,” he nodded in Stew’s direction.

  “I know it, but I don’t care. I’m going to do everything I can to save Rusty.”

  “Stew sure is a good shot,” Brian said, almost wistfully.

  “He is,” Cliff agreed, and he asked, “When the time comes, are you with me?”

  “You’re still the boss. I just wish you hadn’t brought the girl along.”

  “Had no choice.”

  “She might be helpful, but I still don’t like it.”

  “She won’t be harmed as long as she cooperates, and soon as I’m through with her I’ll let her go,” Cliff promised.

  “And how long will that be?”

  “Soon as we’re clear of those Landons.”

  “If everything I’ve heard about Yancy and Cooper is true, then that’ll be a long time,” Brian warned.

  “Not if we kill them.”

  “Nobody’s killed ’em yet, and there’s been a lot of fellers that have tried.”

  “We ain’t tried yet.”

  “No, and I don’t really want to neither,” Brian admitted.

  “I suspect Stew won’t feel that a-way.”

  “Oh?”

  Cliff smiled.

  “I’ve got a plan. Come tomorrow, we’ll see just how good Stew really is.”

  “What if he ain’t good enough?”

  Cliff’s smile widened.

  “Either way, I’ll have one less problem to worry about.”

  Brian nodded thoughtfully as Cliff stood.

  “Well, we’d best be turning in,” he said.

  Cliff got everybody set on the night watch, and then he checked on Jessica.

  By now she had actually drifted off to sleep, and Brian was glad. He figured she would need all the rest she could get.

  Everybody turned in, and it wasn’t long until everyone but Brian Clark was sound asleep.

  Stew had the first watch, and Brian was worried that he would try something. So Brian stretched out on his side, and he positioned himself so that he could see both Stew and Jessica.

  A couple of hours passed.

  Stew sat on a log, and he smoked one cigarette after another. Between puffs, he kept glancing at Jessica.

  Jessica held her carpetbag in a bear hug. But, as she slept her arms relaxed, and the bag slipped to the ground.

  Stew narrowed his eyes, and he nodded as he came to a decision.

  He took a long look at everybody, and Brian held his breath.

  Stew smiled as he rubbed out his cigarette and stood. He was real quiet as he eased over to Jessica, and he knelt beside the carpetbag.

  Brian stood slowly. He grabbed his rifle and eased towards Stew.

  Stew was reaching for the carpetbag when Brian pulled the hammer back on his rifle. It made a loud click, and Stew froze.

  “Open it, and I’ll blast you from here to Kingdom come,” Brian hissed.

  Brian’s words woke Jessica. She was startled, but she had the presence of mind to keep still. With wide eyes she stared at Stew.

  Stew stood and turned around slowly.

  “What’s the big idea?” He hissed.

  “Cliff and her made a bargain,” Brian replied calmly. “We’re going to keep our end of the agreement.”

  “Well now. Ain’t we being all holy and righteous all of a sudden.”

  Brian wasn’t fazed.

  “You mess with this young lady anymore and I’ll kill you, Stew.”

  “You talk real tough when you’ve got a rifle in your hands,” Stew muttered.

  “I sure do. And, I plan to keep this rifle or my pistol handy, so you’d better do as I say,” Brian said, and added, “You go on to bed. I’ll keep watch.”

  Stew scowled. Then, without saying a word, he walked over to his bedroll, unrolled it, pulled his boots off, and crawled in.

  Brian watched him, and then he looked down at Jessica.

  “Try and get some sleep, ma’am,” he said gently. “I’ll keep an eye on things.”

  Jessica nodded curtly, and Brian smiled softly. Then, he walked over to the same log that Stew had sat on.

  He laid his rifle across his lap and got comfortable.

  So much for a good night’s sleep, he thought disgustedly.

  Chapter eight

  It took Cooper nearly two hours to reach the draw where Cliff’s bunch had first stopped.

  By then it was late in the afternoon, and by the time Tussle and Jed trotted up it was nearly dark.

  “At this pace they’ll get all the way to Canada before we catch them!” Jed complained as they dismounted.

  “I’ll be faster tomorrow,” Cooper replied. “Today I was learning.”

  “Learning what?”

  “Everything I could.”

  “Learn anything useful?” Tussle spoke up.

  “Some,” Cooper nodded.

  They set up camp.

  Jed tended to the horses while Cooper gathered some mesquite wood. After Cooper built a fire Tussle put the coffee on and cooked up some supper.

  “Well, are you going to tell us what you learned or not?” Jed asked irritably after they had eaten.

  Cooper liked to smoke a pipe. So, instead of answering he reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out his pipe and tobacco pouch. Both Tussle and Jed watched him impatiently, but Cooper ignored them as he carefully packed his pipe. Next, he struck a match and lit up, and after he returned his pouch to his pocket he looked up at them.

  “They stayed here for a while,” Cooper nodded around him. “There’s some blood over there where they worked on the wounded feller, and over by that log I found four cigarettes that weren’t even halfway finished.”

  “So?” Jed asked.

  “That tells me that whoever was smoking those cigarettes is the nervous sort,” Cooper explained. “If we get into a shooting scrap he’ll probably be the most unpredictable one. And he’s one of the bigger fellers, ’cause his boot tracks are big.”

  “Think he’s the shooter from the ridge?” Tussle asked.

  “That’d be my guess.”

  “What about Jessica?” Tussle wanted to know.

  “She was here. I found some woman’s tracks round the fire. Her strides were normal, so she ain’t hurt.”

  Tussle looked relieved.

  “I’ll be leaving early tomorrow,” Cooper told them. “But remember; our biggest threat is an ambush. Tomorrow is the most likely day for that to happen, so I’ll have to be real watchful.”

  “Will you be a-horseback?” Jed asked.

  Cooper shook his head as he took a puff on his pipe.

  “No, still too brushy. But the country to the north is more open, so after tomorrow I’ll be able to ride horseback.”

  They nodded. It was silent, and a worried look crossed Tussle’s face.

  “I keep thinking about Jessica. If anything were to happen to her-,” his voice trailed off.

  “You can’t think on it,” Cooper replied bluntly. “We’ve got to go about our business as usual and keep our heads. That’s the only way we can help her.”

  “You’re right, I reckon,” Tussle replied grimly. “But just wait ’til we catch up to them!”

  “Remember Tussle; if possible we’ve got to take them alive,” Cooper said sternly. “They’ll get what’s coming to ’em. Yancy’ll see to that.”

  “I say we kill them now and let God sort ’em out!” Tussle declared.

  “There’s a reason they took Jessica,” Cooper reminded. “We can’t shoot now until we know for sure what we’re shooting at.”

  “Cowards!” Tussle muttered.

  “No, they aren’t co
wards,” Cooper disagreed as he took another puff. “They’re desperate, and that’s the worst kind.”

  “Does Yancy go along with what you’re saying?” Jed asked curiously.

  Cooper looked startled.

  “I’m sure he does.”

  “I ain’t so sure,” Jed said. “That look on his face when he saw Steve. He looked like he wanted to kill them all personally.”

  “He did take it hard,” Cooper agreed. “But, that’s just how Yancy is.”

  “How so?” Tussle asked.

  “Everything’s personal with Yancy. I’m sure he feels responsible for Steve and Sam’s deaths.”

  “That wasn’t his fault,” Tussle objected.

  “Yancy won’t see it that way. Long as I can remember, he’s always felt like he has to watch over everybody.”

  It was silent as Tussle and Jed thought on that.

  “I still say Yancy won’t hesitate to pull the trigger on Steve’s killers,” Jed declared.

  “He won’t hesitate to kill them if he has too,” Cooper replied. “But first he’ll give them a chance to surrender. Might not be much of a chance, but they’ll get one. That’s one of Yancy’s rules, he’s always followed a strict list of rules.”

  “In the heat of the moment, Yancy might forget who he is,” Jed argued.

  “Long as I can remember,” Cooper smiled wryly, “whatever the situation, Yancy has always known exactly who he is.”

  Chapter nine

  It was past dark by the time Yancy and Sergeant Wagons pulled into Midway. The stage had been heavy, and with there being only two horses to pull it they’d had to go slow.

  A large crowd gathered as Yancy stopped the stage.

  “Wagons, go get the undertaker, and then find out where Sam Gibson’s wife and kids live,” Yancy said.

  “They live here in town, sir.”

  Yancy sighed.

  “I know that. Find out where in town they live.”

  “Oh. Yes, sir!” Sergeant Wagons said, and he jumped off the stage.

  “And get the doc too,” Yancy called after him. “Tell him we’ve got a passenger with a bloody head.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sergeant Wagons said again, and then he was gone.

  The crowd watched as the passengers got out, and then they all demanded to know what had happened. Yancy got everybody’s attention, and he patiently explained everything.

  The doctor rushed up right as Yancy finished, and the undertaker was behind him.

  “How many, Yancy?” The undertaker asked.

  “Two, so far.”

  “Can you bring them to my office?”

  “Sure. Let me get everything else unloaded, and I’ll be right there.”

  Ten minutes later, Yancy pulled up in front of the undertaker’s office. He helped the undertaker carry them inside, and by then Sergeant Wagons was back. He told Yancy where Sam’s wife lived, and afterwards Yancy nodded thoughtfully.

  “Take care of the horses and the stage, and that’ll be all for tonight,” he told Sergeant Wagons.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Yancy nodded, and then he turned and walked down the street.

  Sergeant Wagons had given Yancy good directions, and soon he was standing in front of Sam Gibson’s house.

  Yancy stood there a moment and collected his thoughts.

  Finally, he swallowed hard and walked up to the front door. He knocked, and the sound carried loudly.

  He heard footsteps from inside, and the door opened.

  Mrs. Gibson was a tall, graceful looking woman with tired eyes and a wisp of naturally gray hair here and there. Behind her stood two girls. Yancy figured that they were about six to eight years of age.

  Yancy removed his hat.

  “Mrs. Gibson?”

  “Yes?” She tried to be firm, but her voice was still shaky.

  “I’m Yancy Landon, ma’am.”

  “I know who you are.”

  There was an awkward moment of silence, and Yancy asked gently, “Could I come in?”

  “Yes, of course,” Mrs. Gibson said, and she beckoned him in.

  Yancy nodded and stepped inside.

  Chapter ten

  “Stew, I want you and the Taylor brothers to stay here,” Cliff said as he looked around.

  It had been daylight for an hour, and they had just reached the top of the mesa. The way had been steep, and instead of riding straight up they’d had to ride back and forth.

  “You can see for miles up here,” Cliff continued. “You know what to do when you see them coming.”

  “This is a likely spot,” Stew agreed, but then asked, “Why don’t we all stay? We might need some help.”

  “It just took us an hour to get up here,” Cliff frowned. “That’s more than enough time for you three to hold off whoever’s coming.”

  Stew grinned sarcastically and shrugged.

  “Keep them pinned down until dark,” Cliff continued. “We’ll be in Landry getting Rusty looked at. You can join us there.”

  Stew nodded and glanced at Jessica.

  “You take good care of our girl now,” he said.

  “Just keep your mind on your business,” Cliff snapped back.

  “I am,” Stew replied, and his eyes never left Jessica.

  Brian Clark leaned forward in the saddle, and he rested his hand on the butt of his rifle.

  “You don’t remember so good,” he said softly.

  Stew glared at Brian, but he met his look with a glare of his own. A few seconds passed, and Stew turned away abruptly.

  Cliff, meanwhile, grabbed the lead rope to Rusty’s horse and took off. Brian let him take the lead, and then he and Jessica fell in behind.

  Stew stood still and watched them. Soon as they were gone, he turned to the Taylor brothers.

  “Tie our horses back out of the way, and then you two might as well make us some coffee. Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

  They nodded. Stew pulled his rifle out of his scabbard, and he handed the reins of his horse to Clay.

  “Make it a small fire,” Stew instructed. “And, make it back away from the ridge. We don’t want anybody seeing the smoke.”

  The Taylor brothers got busy, and soon Stew could smell the coffee.

  Stew left the edge of the mesa. He walked over to the campfire, sat down, and poured some coffee.

  “Shouldn’t somebody be watching behind us?” Clay asked.

  “No need yet,” Stew replied as he cradled his cup and leaned back. “They’ll be along directly.”

  The Taylor brothers looked restless, and Stew smiled.

  “You two look eager.”

  Both boys looked sheepish.

  “I reckon we are,” Clay admitted.

  “Have you boys ever killed anybody?”

  With shame they shook their heads, and Stew smiled.

  “Well, don’t worry. You two stick with me, and you’ll get plenty of chances.”

  They looked excited, and a smug look crossed Stew’s face.

  A plan came to mind as Stew sat there drinking his coffee. After a bit he looked at them and smiled pleasantly.

  “So, who’s the oldest?”

  “I am,” Clyde replied.

  Stew nodded like he cared.

  “What made you boys choose this sort of work?”

  They hesitated, but then Clay suddenly blurted, “We aim to become famous!”

  “Do you now?”

  “Nobody knows who we are now, but we aim to change that,” Clyde declared.

  “You boys seem plenty tough to me,” Stew said as he tried to boost their egos.

  Clyde and Clay looked pleased.

  It was silent, and Stew said carefully, “It’s too bad Cliff doesn’t let you do much.”

  They looked up sharply.

  “What do you mean?” Clyde asked.

  “You ain’t noticed? Every time we stop he makes you two do all the work.”

  “Come to think on it, we have been doing most all the work
,” Clay said thoughtfully.

  “Well, if you stay with Cliff you’d better get used to it,” Stew said.

  It fell silent, and Stew could tell that they were thinking hard.

  Stew waited patiently.

  “Got any ideas?” Clay finally asked.

  “Well, now that you’ve mentioned it, I have been thinking about putting my own outfit together. Would you boys be interested?”

  They glanced sideways at each other and nodded.

  “Count us in,” Clyde said.

  “That’ll be fine,” Stew smiled, but then added, “There’s one other thing. We’ll need money to put an outfit together.”

  “We’ve got some coming from the stagecoach robbery,” Clay figured.

  “Yes, but that ain’t enough. However, if’n we didn’t have to split it six ways-,” he let his voice trail off.

  The Taylor brothers were startled.

  “You’d double cross Cliff?” Clyde asked.

  “You bet I would,” Stew declared. “Ever since his brother got shot he ain’t been thinking about us. All he cares about is saving his brother. As for Brian Clark, he’s old and worn out. All he does is slow us down.”

  The Taylor brothers were silent as they thought on it, and then they smiled crudely.

  “All right. Let’s do it!” Clyde declared.

  Stew smiled wryly as he took a swig of coffee.

  “When do you figure on doing this?” Clay wanted to know.

  “Not for a while. First, we need to deal with these Landons. After that we’ll pick our time.”

  “Makes sense,” Clyde agreed.

  “So until then, you boys act normal and keep on doing all the grunt work. We don’t want Cliff getting suspicious.”

  The Taylor brothers agreed.

  “Good. Now you two go and keep watch. Wake me in an hour.”

  They scrambled to their feet and hurried off, and as Stew stretched out he couldn’t help but smile.

  So far, all was going according to plan.

  Chapter eleven

  It was barely daylight when Yancy Landon rode out of Midway. He led a pack mule and an extra horse behind him.

  Yancy was anxious to catch back up. But, the mule and extra horse slowed him considerably, and a slow trot was all that he could manage.