Halliday 3

by Adam Brady

  Buck Halliday took a step toward her, but he stopped when he saw the look of hatred on her face.

  “Get away from us!” Donna sobbed. “Leave us alone! Haven’t you done enough?”

  Nathan Dean remained in his chair with his hands clenched tight. Finally, he began to speak again.

  “Donna, in all the time I’ve known you, I never did wrong by you folks. Your father was a rustler, and my boys caught him red-handed. I was all for holdin’ him until we could get a lawman out to arrest him, but then he tried to gun me down.”

  Donna lifted her head and shrieked;

  “Liar!”

  Dean shook his head.

  “There were witnesses. He didn’t leave me any choice.”

  Donna rose slowly to her feet and wiped the tears from her eyes. Then she took a steadying breath and raised her head.

  “Nathan Dean,” she said, “my father was a better man than you could ever hope to be. He wouldn’t let you take his land, and that’s why you killed him.”

  Halliday walked toward her, his face set grimly.

  “Dean’s telling the truth, ma’am,” he said quietly. “His men back up his story. I talked to them last night, to the old hands, mostly. Your pa drew first, and Nathan only tried to defend himself.”

  Donna turned on Halliday in a fury.

  “How can you even dare to show your face here? I’ll hate you till the day I die.”

  She fell silent when Kip stirred. He raised himself on one elbow and looked bleakly at each of them in turn. With a groan, he fell back and closed his eyes again.

  “Donna,” Halliday said as quietly as before, “you’ve got to look at things as they are, not as you’d like them to be. Your father was a rustler and a killer, and Kip helped him. None of that’s your fault, and no one wants to punish you for their wrongs. That’s why Dean wants so bad to talk to you. He wants to help you get away from this life, and from Sam Rushton. You can get a fresh start someplace better than this. You’re young and pretty, and you can still live a good life.”

  “What do you know about Sam?” Donna sneered. “What could you know about a brave man like him?”

  “Only what I’ve been told,” Halliday said. “Sounds to me like he’s just another outlaw with nothing much to recommend him.”

  Kip came onto his elbow again with a grunt. He gulped for air and weakly pushed Donna away.

  “Sam’ll be back,” he croaked. “He’s comin’ soon, Halliday, and he’ll shoot you down like the dog you are. Why, me and Sam, we ... we ...”

  He slumped back with his mouth still forming his last word.

  “Kip?” Donna cried, and then she touched his shoulder and shook him lightly. “Kip, open your eyes!”

  She began to drag him into a sitting position, but his head lolled and a trickle of blood ran from his mouth.

  “He’s gone, Donna,” Halliday told her gently.

  She threw herself over her brother’s body, sobbing and out of control.

  “Nothin’ more we can do right now,” Dean said with a tired sigh. “Best leave her be.”

  Halliday looked back at the grieving woman and said;

  “I’d like nothing better, but I don’t reckon she should be left by herself.”

  Dean walked to the door and stared back at her. Then he said to Halliday;

  “Suit yourself. If you stick around, tell her that when she wants to see me, she knows where I’ll be. Tell her she can have anything she wants, but I’m fencin’ off this land at the end of two weeks. She’s got to go, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Nathan Dean went out and rode off immediately, taking Barrett’s horse with him. Halliday figured the rancher had his reasons for leaving Barrett’s body behind.

  Rolling a cigarette, Halliday leaned against the wall and waited. Finally, Donna sat up and dried her eyes on the hem of her skirt.

  She seemed surprised to see Halliday still standing there—surprised and angry.

  “Why the hell are you still here? What more do you want from us?”

  “I want to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to say—and nothing I want to hear from your lying mouth.”

  “You’ve got a lot of things wrong, Donna,” he said.

  “No,” she said defiantly. “I’ve got everything dead right, including the fact that Nathan has gone off somewhere to catch Sam in an ambush. That man just wants to kill everything that matters to me, and you’re helping him do it.”

  “I don’t know if Dean’s after Rushton or not,” Halliday answered honestly.

  Donna laughed scornfully.

  “You don’t know? You, of all people! You knew everything else, though, didn’t you? You knew how to take advantage of a defenseless woman and beat up on a boy. One thing’s sure, Buck Halliday, you don’t know how it is to be a man!”

  Dean had been right. There was no point in staying.

  Halliday crossed the room, picked up Barrett’s six-gun and shoved it into his belt, and then he lifted Barrett’s body from the floor.

  Donna was watching him intently, but then her gaze shifted to the rifle that still lay on the kitchen table. Suddenly, she said, “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you? You’re afraid of a grieving woman!”

  Without further comment, Halliday carried his bloody burden to the yard behind the house, and then he went to the barn for a shovel. All the time he worked, he kept an eye on the house, but there was no sign of Donna Heller.

  When he was finished, he led the sorrel around to the front of the house, and called;

  “Donna?”

  When there was no answer, he mounted up and called again.

  Finally, Donna came to the door, staring at him blankly.

  “I left an empty grave out in back for your brother,” he told her. “When you’re feeling better, you should go see Nathan Dean. Don’t leave it too long, though, Donna. He means well, and he’ll help you if you let him. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing more I can say.”

  “Nothing at all but goodbye,” she said.

  She stayed in the doorway, apparently wanting to be sure that he was going.

  Still watching her, he turned his horse away slowly and then heeled it into a run.

  When he reached the ridge, he could see dust on the trail below. Nathan Dean had gone home to bide his time.

  There was only one loose end left to tie up now, and that was the Finns ...

  Sam Rushton rode up behind Donna Heller as she stood looking down at the grave in which she had buried her brother. She whirled at the sound of the hoof beats on the soft ground, expecting to see Buck Halliday or Nathan Dean.

  “Sam!” Donna cried.

  “It’s me, sure enough, Donna.”

  She hurried to his side, but he stayed in the saddle and made no attempt to reach for her. Looking down at the two fresh graves, he said;

  “Who you buried in there, girl?”

  “Kip. They killed him, Sam.”

  “And the other one?”

  “Red Barrett. He came here looking for trouble. There were three of them, Sam. We had no chance. Dean, Halliday and Barrett. Kip killed Barrett.”

  Sam Rushton worked a hand across his tanned face. He was not a handsome man, but there was a strength about him that always made a woman look twice.

  “Let’s go in the house,” he said, but he stayed in the saddle as they went around to the front yard.

  As he hitched the horse to the porch rail, he looked out over the clearing from long habit.

  Nothing stirred, and finally he was satisfied that for the moment, he was in no danger.

  Donna followed him into the house and stood waiting while he looked around at the bullet holes and the bloodstains on the floor.

  Rushton’s face was expressionless as he took in the scenes of destruction, and then he hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt and shook his head.

  “Looks like you sure had yourself a time of it,” he said without turning to look at the woman beside him.

&n
bsp; “Oh, Sam!” Donna said, as she rushed forward and pressed herself against his chest.

  The outlaw looked down at her coldly, and then he took her by both wrists and pushed her away. Ignoring the hurt in her eyes, he clumped into the kitchen and put his hand on the coffeepot. Finding that it was still warm, he took a cup from the rack and filled it.

  He returned to the parlor, his eyes taking in further signs of damage as he went from room to room.

  “Bosker met up with me,” he said finally. “We had a long talk. He told me a lotta things that’ve been goin’ on.”

  “It’s been terrible, Sam,” Donna said honestly. “Never a day without somebody coming and making trouble. I’ve been at my wit’s end, just trying to stick it out and wait for you.”

  “Tell me about Halliday,” he said.

  Donna sucked in a sharp breath, unable to hide her surprise. Now she understood why he was acting so strangely. Always before, he would be telling Kip to vamoose as soon as he rode into the yard, and then he would be lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the bedroom.

  “He happened along when we were trying to fight off Dean’s men out on the range. He helped us fight them off. I thought he was a friend.”

  “He stayed, didn’t he, Donna?”

  Donna shook her head.

  “Not for long. Anyhow, Kip was here all the time.”

  “You’re lyin’, Donna. Bosker said—”

  “I’d never lie to you, Sam.”

  “Wiley Bosker always gave everythin’ to me straight,” Rushton said heavily. “He didn’t have the nerve to lie. When he told me there was somethin’ goin’ on ’tween you and Halliday, it made me so mad I killed him for it. But that don’t mean I doubt what he told me.”

  Donna took a deep breath, and then she put her face in her hands and began to cry.

  Rushton looked on without a glimmer of sympathy.

  “He forced me, Sam. He sent Kip away, and then he just took me. I fought him all the time, but he was too strong for me. When Kip came back and tried to protect me, he beat him something terrible. Then he just rode away, and I didn’t see him again until he came here this morning with Nathan Dean. They killed Kip this morning, Sam, right here in the house, and then they told me to get out—they all know it’s because of you that I’ve stayed.”

  Hesitantly, the woman came to him again and placed her hands on his shoulders.

  “Sam, don’t be like this. None of this is my doing. I even tried to tell him that you would come after him if he touched me, but he just laughed and said he wasn’t afraid of you.”

  Sam Rushton placed a hand under her chin and tilted her head back. He looked into her eyes for a long time, and then he dropped his hand to his side.

  Donna pressed herself against him again, until he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He dropped her on the bed and sat down to pull off his boots.

  Donna lay back and sighed.

  “It’s been so long, Sam,” she said.

  “Leastways for me, it has,” he said as he stripped of his shirt.

  Donna knew then that she would have to be very careful with this man she loved yet feared.

  She opened her blouse and lay back with the sunlight from the window washing over her partly naked body.

  Rushton hung his gunrig on the bedpost and looked down at her as he began to remove his trail-stained pants.

  “I’m goin’ to kill him, you know.”

  “I hoped you would,” Donna told him gravely, “and I want to help you do it. I believe he went to town ...”

  “You know I can’t go there,” Rushton said.

  “I can, though, and I’ll go in and get him for you,” Donna promised. “He’ll come if I ask him to. I know he will ...”

  Rushton’s eyes narrowed, and Donna knew that she had said too much already.

  “Oh, Sam,” she said quickly, “I just want to go away with you, soon as we can, someplace far away where nobody knows you.”

  “There ain’t no such place,” Rushton said, and then he bent down and tore her clothes away with a kind of animal violence that Donna had never seen in him before.

  Rushton wanted only her body and her pain.

  Finally, Donna understood. She bit into her lip and turned her head away.

  It was soon over.

  Nine – The Finn Brand

  “What’s that you’re sayin’?” Nathan Dean demanded angrily.

  “It’s Luden,” the barkeep repeated. “I found him first thing this mornin’ when I was sweepin’ the yard. He was layin’ up against the fence. From the powder burns, I’d say somebody shot him at real close range. He died before he could tell me who did it. Old Will from the stables said that Wiley Bosker come by about a minute or two after Will heard a gunshot. He got so busy after that, he just forgot all about it till now.”

  Nathan Dean looked uneasily at his men. There was just too much happening, and with no law to look to for guidance, the weight of it all fell on his shoulders.

  “Anybody know where to find Cully?”

  “Still laid up at the doc’s, Mr. Dean,” the barkeep said. “Got a broken jaw, among other things. Hell, that Halliday don’t do nothin’ by halves, does he?”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Dean said wearily as he picked up his drink. “Nothin’ else to tell me?”

  The barkeep grinned wryly.

  “Ain’t that enough? I reckon we’re havin’ ourselves a real hot summer, don’t you?”

  Dean turned thoughtfully to study his hired hands. He had lost three in the first encounter with the Hellers, another two at the branding camp, then Wright and Luden in town, and Red Barrett at the Heller place. Eight dead. And only Kip Heller on the other side.

  He could feel the tension in his men, especially since the deaths of Wright and Barrett. Those two had been brought in for the express purpose of taking the pressure off the rest of the crew.

  Nathan Dean again began to have grave doubts about how deep Halliday was involved, but he did not really believe that he could put Halliday’s name to all the mayhem.

  As he walked across the room to stare into the street, he was still thinking about Buck Halliday.

  What if Rushton and Bosker returned to make more trouble? The Heller girl would surely push them into it. More men would be killed.

  So Dean needed Halliday. He decided to seek him out and offer him Red Barrett’s job.

  It was past noon now, and the waves of heat coming off the street made the distant buildings waver in his vision.

  Dean sighed and returned to the bar. It had been a long time since he had felt so helpless in the face of trouble.

  He decided that he was getting old—and doing it too damned fast.

  He finished his drink and poured himself another.

  Buck Halliday came into town in the heat of the day, grateful for the scant shade of the buildings as he rode the sorrel along a back street toward the stables. When the horse was settled in a stall, Halliday strode up the alley and entered the saloon by the back door.

  He saw the Dean crew bunched around the tables, looking unusually subdued for cowhands enjoying a day in town. Dean himself was at the bar, on his own and brooding into his drink.

  The rancher heard or felt Halliday’s presence and turned to face him. Nathan Dean scowled but then told the barkeep to bring another glass.

  With a nod of acceptance, Halliday stepped up beside him.

  “Seen either of the Finn boys?” Halliday asked when he had tasted his drink.

  “There’s only one left, and he’s still laid up with a broken jaw. Somebody killed Luden last night.”

  Halliday raised an eyebrow, and asked casually;

  “You know what happened?”

  “Sounds like it was Wiley Bosker,” Dean told him.

  “Was there an argument? Does anybody know what it was all about?”

  Dean shook his head.

  “The barkeep says they left here together after Bosker bought a bottle. He
didn’t hear a gunshot, but he found Luden’s body this morning and there’s no sign of Bosker. Maybe he’s back with Sam Rushton already.”

  “The Heller boy did say he expected Rushton to turn up soon,” Halliday volunteered.

  “Yeah,” Dean said, “and some of the boys figure Bosker rides front for Rushton. I don’t know and I don’t much care either way.”

  “Don’t care?”

  “Why should I?” Dean snapped. “The only one I’d hate to see gettin’ hurt in all this is Donna. I kinda feel sorry for her, and I hope I can let her be until she’s ready to leave my land of her own accord.”

  “I bet you leave a saucer of milk out for the rattlesnakes, too,” Halliday said with a faint grin.

  “You didn’t seem to mind her company for awhile there,” Dean said, and there was an edge to his voice now. “From what she said—”

  “That gal says whatever comes into her head,” Halliday cut in. “I got a pretty good idea what she’s up to. What I’m wonderin’ about, is you.”

  Dean shifted a little and rested one boot against the foot rail.

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “I’ll lay my cards on the table—but I’ll expect you to do the same. Red Barrett was my top hand. Ben Wright backed him. They made a good pair, and I had a lot of faith in them. With them around, I figured I could handle whatever came my way. Now they’re both gone, and I’m short-handed. So there’s a job open for you.”

  “What makes you think I want a job working for you?” Halliday asked quietly.

  “Why not? You’re on the drift, aren’t you? Anyway, that’s what you said. If that’s not true, maybe a whole lot of other things you said are kind of doubtful, too. I’m offerin’ good money because I need somebody I can rely on, Halliday.”

  “You mean you need somebody in case Donna stirs up Sam Rushton agin you,” Halliday said.

  “Could be,” the rancher said tersely. “You got the stomach for it?”

  “That isn’t the question,” Halliday said with a shrug. “Maybe it just ain’t none of my business anymore. I’ve done what I could for her. When I locked horns with her brother, it was only because I was forced to. As far as I’m concerned, everything else is taken care of, except maybe Cully Finn.”