Defiance of Eagles

by William W. Johnstone

  “But I’m the one he yelled at,” Edward said.

  “You know that, and I know that, but nobody else does. And if you recall, Boyle didn’t say your name.”

  “That’s right, he didn’t say it, did he?”

  “Which is a good thing,” Falcon said. “If there was another one of Ackerman’s men in the saloon, we don’t need him to know you were here.”

  “Yes, I suppose that could complicate things,” Edward said.

  “Which is why I’ve been thinking about this, and I think that you should return to Brimstone. You, too, Megan.”

  Megan shook her head. “Oh, no, Falcon, we have already been through this. As long as Mary Kate is in danger, I’m going to be a part of this. There is no way I’m going back home.”

  “Think about it for a minute, Megan,” Falcon said. “If they find out that you and Edward are looking for them, instead of waiting at the ranch for further instructions, don’t you think that might put Mary Kate in even more danger?”

  “Falcon has a point, Megan,” Morgan said. “If you don’t think Ackerman isn’t capable of killing Mary Kate on the slightest pretext, just think of those poor people we buried back there. He killed Clyde and Emma Byrd for no other reason than that he wanted to steal from their pantry.”

  “Don’t make me do this, Falcon. Edward. Don’t you see? I can’t just sit back there and do nothing,” Megan complained. “I am telling you, I would go stark, raving mad.”

  “It isn’t like you won’t be doing anything,” Falcon said. “You will be establishing a cover for the rest of us. I mean if they think you are back there waiting to negotiate with them, they are less likely to think that anyone is coming after them. And if they don’t think anyone is after them, then they might be a little less cautious. That might give us a slight edge and, right now, we need every edge we can get.”

  “I think Falcon is right,” Edward said. “I am convinced that Boyle recognized me back there in the saloon. And if he recognized me, the others would recognize you as well.”

  “All right then, you go home, Edward. I can understand that they might recognize you. You were their commanding officer. But how would they recognize me? I wasn’t in the army.”

  “My dear, you said it yourself. I was their commanding officer, and you were the colonel’s lady. You were not only the colonel’s lady, you were the prettiest woman on the entire post. Anyone who served at Fort Ellis would know you in an instant.”

  “He’s right, Megan,” Matthew said.

  “I agree,” Morgan said.

  “Is that how it is?” Megan asked in a pained voice. “All four of you are against me?”

  Falcon reached across to take his sister’s hand. “We aren’t against you, Megan. We are just trying to do what is best for Mary Kate. And I know that’s what you want, too.”

  “Yes, of course, you know it is.”

  “Then, please, go back home. That is absolutely the best thing you can do for her.”

  “All right,” Megan agreed reluctantly.

  “Falcon, do us a favor, will you?” Edward asked. “As soon as you have found her, and have her safely in your hands, send us a telegram. Please let us know.”

  “I promise you, I’ll do that,” Falcon said.

  At that very moment, ten miles out of town, Waters was giving a report to Ackerman as to what happened to Boyle.

  “I didn’t actually see it,” Waters said.

  “How is it that you didn’t see it?” Ackerman asked. “I sent the two of you in town together.”

  “Yes, sir, and we was just lookin’ around town just like you said to see if we could find out anything. But Boyle, he said maybe we should split up so as to see more. He went to one saloon and I went to another. I heard the shot, and since it come from the saloon Boyle had went to, I went over to ask ’im what happened. Onliest thing, I didn’t get to ask him nothin’, ’cause he was the one that was shot. I was listenin’ to the others, and it turns out Boyle was tryin’ to kill someone named Falcon MacCallister. Only MacCallister kilt him instead.”

  “Falcon MacCallister? Are you sure? What’s he doing up here? I thought he stayed down in Colorado, most of the time,” Ackerman said.

  “Well, they said it was Falcon MacCallister,” Waters said. “I ain’t never seen him before, but I’ve heard of him. The fella they was pointin’ out was a big man with shoulders as broad as an axe handle.”

  “Yes, that sounds like him.”

  “Do you know this feller, Falcon MacCallister?” Waters asked.

  “Yes, I know him.”

  “No, I mean do you actually know him? Like face-to-face talkin’ and such?”

  “He testified against me at my court-martial,” Ackerman said. “I don’t know what he’s doing around here, but I would dearly like to see the son of a bitch killed.”

  “It’s goin’ to be hard to do. Ever’ one that saw it said Boyle drew first and already had his gun out before MacCallister drew his gun and shot him.”

  “I’ll get around to him sooner or later,” Ackerman said. “For now, the most important thing is to get the money from Hamilton.”

  Mary Kate overheard the conversation, and, for the first time since she had been taken by Ackerman and his men, she felt a surge of hope. She thought of her uncle Falcon on a white horse, wearing shining armor, and she smiled, though she managed to hide it from the others. She didn’t even mind when it started to rain. Ackerman gave her a poncho, and she crawled up under an overhanging rock, which kept most of the rain away from her. As was usual, Ackerman kept a guard on her, and because the guards changed every two hours, there was little chance of one of them going to sleep, which meant she had no opportunity to escape.

  Back in Lincoln, the rain that had started just before sundown continued into the night. In the distance, lightning flashed and thunder roared and the rain beat down heavily upon the roof of the hotel, then cascaded down off the eaves before drumming onto the porch overhang, below.

  Falcon stood at the window of his hotel room, looking down on the street of the town. There were few people outside, and when someone did go outside, they would dart quickly through the rain until they found a welcome door to slip through. The town was dark, the rain having extinguished all outside lamps, and those that were inside provided only the dullest glimmers in the shroud of night.

  The room behind Falcon glowed with a soft, golden light, for he had lit the lantern and it was burning very low. He thought of Mary Kate outside in this weather and hoped that she had found a dry place.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The rain stopped around one o’clock in the morning, but the combination of the overhanging rock and poncho did a reasonable job of keeping Mary Kate dry. And, because the sun came out shining the next day, the residual dampness dried rather quickly.

  “Major, are we going on to Purgatory today?” Casey asked.

  “Yes,” Ackerman replied. “And our luck couldn’t be better. I have no doubt but that last night’s rain washed away all our tracks. If anyone actually is following us, they’ll have a hard time.”

  “Do you think someone is following us?”

  “I think Falcon MacCallister may be following us. I told you that he testified against me in the trial. And it turns out that he’s Hamilton’s brother-in-law. No sir, I don’t believe it was just a coincidence that Boyle encountered him back in town.”

  “Hell, Major, if he is followin’ us, why don’t we let him catch us? They’s just one of him. What could he do against all of us?”

  “Don’t underestimate Falcon MacCallister. After his testimony in my trial, I sort of made it a point to find out all I could about him. He is a most formidable adversary. And while he couldn’t take us all, he is quite capable of getting two or three of us. I don’t want to lose anyone to him, especially myself.”

  “Yes, sir, I guess I see what you mean.”

  “It isn’t fear, Sergeant Casey. It is merely a reasonable assessment of loss and gain. N
o battle should ever be fought without a reasonable consideration of anticipated losses. That is something I learned at West Point, and it has served me well for many years.”

  “Yes, sir,” Casey said.

  Ackerman smiled. “Battles are also won by taking advantage of situation and terrain. And in this case, situation and terrain tell me that, with our tracks washed away by the rain, even someone as good as Falcon MacCallister will not be able to track us. The best he can do is guess as to where we might go. And I would be willing to bet you any amount of money that he has never even heard of Purgatory. By intention, very few have ever heard of the place. That is the tactical advantage of going to Purgatory.”

  Mary Kate now knew that her uncle Falcon was following, and she felt a drop in her spirits when she heard Ackerman say that all the tracks had been washed away. How would he be able to follow, if there were no tracks?

  She wished she had been wearing a dress when they captured her. If she had on a dress, she could tear off little strips of it to leave as a marker. But she couldn’t as easily tear off strips of the denim trousers she was wearing, and even if she could, how would he know it was her? She had to find some way to leave a sign for him.

  But, realistically, she knew that even if she had been wearing a dress she couldn’t drop pieces of it without being seen. She was, after all, riding in the very first row, alongside Sergeant Casey.

  They had been riding for about an hour when Ackerman, as a true cavalry officer, ordered everyone to dismount and walk their horses.

  “Major, before we remount, I need a moment of privacy,” Mary Kate said.

  “Just a moment, let me find a place for you,” Ackerman replied. He walked around for a bit, then came back. “You can go over there, behind those rocks. I don’t think you’ll try and get away, there is about a two-hundred-foot drop-off behind you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mary Kate went behind the rocks, then looked around and saw that it was, indeed, a long drop-off behind her. Using a stick, she scratched into the dirt: PURGATORY MARY KATE. But the message was off the main path, so she knew that the chances of Falcon seeing it were very remote . . . unless she could improve the odds somewhat.

  Then she got an idea. She broke two small pieces off the end of the stick so that she had a longer piece, and two smaller pieces.

  “Hurry up, or I’ll send someone back there after you!” Ackerman called.

  “I’m coming,” Mary Kate replied, hurrying back out, holding the sticks in her hand. Everyone else had already mounted by the time she got back to the trail. Mary Kate started limping.

  “Wait just a moment,” she said. “I’ve got a rock in my shoe.”

  “Well, hurry up,” Ackerman ordered.

  Mary Kate sat down and pulled off her right boot, and made a show of dumping it. Then she adjusted her sock and reached down for her boot. As she did so, she laid the sticks on the ground, and with the two smaller pieces made an arrow. The arrow was pointing back to the rocks where she had just been.

  “All right,” she said, remounting. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Forward, ho!” Ackerman shouted, and the body of men, in a column of twos, started out.

  Mary Kate held her breath until she was sure that the last two men had passed her arrow. Nobody called out. Now she had only three worries remaining. She had to pray that Hugh Smith, who was the man riding trail, didn’t see it, that there not be another rain to wash out what she had written in the dirt, and that her uncle Falcon would see the arrow and make the connection.

  Back in Lincoln, Falcon, Morgan, and Matthew were standing in front of the hotel, as Megan and Edward were preparing to return to Brimstone.

  “I wish you would change your mind and let us come with you,” Megan said.

  “Megan, we’ve been through all that. If you would just think about it, you would know I am right,” Falcon said.

  Megan sighed and put her hand on Falcon’s shoulder. “I know you are right,” she said. “Please find her for me, Falcon. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to her.”

  Falcon kissed his sister on the forehead. “We’ll find her,” he said. “I promise you, we’ll find her, and we’ll bring her home safe and sound.”

  “That’s quite a promise you made, little brother,” Matthew said as they watched Megan and Edward ride away.

  “Yeah,” Falcon said.

  “Do you think you can keep it?”

  “Yeah,” Falcon said again, but without elaboration. He untied Lightning, then swung into the saddle. “Let’s go.”

  As Ackerman’s Raiders rode into the town of Purgatory, Mary Kate saw a building with a sign in front that said TOWN MARSHAL.

  This was the first town they had actually passed through since she had been taken, and seeing the marshal’s office gave Mary Kate a surge of hope. Suddenly she slid down from the horse and ran toward the building.

  “Here, where are you going?” Casey called after her.

  “Let her go, Sergeant,” Ackerman said. “She needs to learn.”

  “Marshal, Marshal, help me!” Mary Kate called as she ran toward the building. She pushed the door open and dashed inside, where a man wearing a badge on his shirt was sitting behind the desk, drinking whiskey from a bottle. “Help me!” she said desperately.

  “Here, here, now!” the marshal said. “What’s the meaning of this? What are you doing, running in here like a crazy woman?”

  “Those men out front!” Mary Kate said, pointing behind her. “They killed my husband and they’ve taken me. They’re holding me for ransom!”

  Ackerman stepped into the Marshal’s office then.

  “Hello, Moss,” Ackerman said. “How are you doing?”

  “Oh, pretty good, Major. How are you?”

  “What?” Mary Kate said. “Marshal, didn’t you hear what I just said?” She pointed to Ackerman. “This man killed my husband and has taken me prisoner! He is holding me for ransom!”

  Ackerman took out two twenty-dollar bills and handed them to Moss. “Think you can take care of her for me, for a while?”

  “Oh, I think I can,” Moss said. Standing, he reached over to grab hold of Mary Kate’s arm.

  “Are you crazy? What is going on here? You’re supposed to be the law!”

  “Well, girly, the other towns have their law, and Purgatory has its law,” Marshal Moss said. “Come along now, and don’t give me any trouble.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m putting you in jail for disturbing the peace.”

  “What? What kind of marshal are you? What kind of town is this?”

  “It’s my kind of town,” Ackerman said. “Now you behave yourself. I have to keep you in good shape if I’m going to get any money from your father.”

  “No!” Mary Kate screamed. “Help me, somebody! Somebody please help me!”

  Quickly, and without any prior warning, Ackerman crossed over to her and slapped her hard in the face. Mary Kate felt her eye swelling almost instantly.

  “There is no sense in yelling,” Ackerman said, his voice amazingly calm. “There is no one in this town who will lift so much as a finger to help you. This is my town, do you understand? This town belongs to me.”

  Mary Kate held her hand to the side of her face, and though her eyes welled with tears, she made a concerted effort to keep from crying.

  “Come along, now, missy,” Moss said, leading her to an open cell, back in the corner of the jail. “This is the ladies’ cell back here; it’s where we put the whores when they act up,” he said. “It’s a little nicer than the other cells, and you have some privacy here, if you know what I mean.”

  Moss pushed her inside; it required only a gentle push because she cooperated, then he closed the cell door and locked it.

  “Ha!” Moss laughed. “I’ll just bet you ain’t never been in jail before, have you, girly?”

  “No,” Mary Kate replied, her voice so low as to
barely be heard.

  “No, ma’am, I didn’t think so. I can tell by lookin’ at a woman whether she’s a decent woman or a whore. Soon as I saw you, I seen that you wasn’t no whore.”

  “I’ll have someone bring some lunch for her,” Ackerman said as he left.

  Ackerman remounted, then the group started riding again. A mongrel dog came running from behind one of the buildings yapping and snapping at the heels of Casey’s horse. The horse grew skittish and began kicking at the dog, prancing away from it, and Casey had to fight to keep the animal under control.

  “I aim to shoot me a dog here!” Casey said, pulling his pistol.

  “You shoot that dog, and I’ll shoot you,” a man standing on the boardwalk said. He was holding a rifle, and he raised it to his shoulder and aimed it at Casey.

  “Then call your damn dog off!” Casey said.

  “He ain’t my dog. He ain’t nobody’s dog. But you ain’t goin’ to shoot him, neither.”

  By then the issue had resolved itself as the dog went running away, barking and yelping all the while.

  “Detail, halt!” Ackerman said. “Make certain that either I, Sergeant Casey, or Corporal Jones know where you are at all times. Other than that, you are free to go wherever you wish. Dismissed!”

  “Ya hoo!” the men shouted.

  Some of the men rode directly to the nearest hitching rail; several others rode on down the street, looking for greener grass. It was obvious that they had all been here many times, not only because they knew the town so well, but also because those few who were on the street called out to them, including a couple of scantily clad women who were on the second-floor balcony of the House of Pleasure, leaning over the rail to show a goodly amount of cleavage.

  Ackerman tied his horse off at the rail in front of the Bloody Bucket Saloon. He heard a woman’s short, sharp exclamation, followed by loud boisterous laughter from several men.