Annabelle Weston

by Scandalous Woman

  Carly scoffed. “I guess we’d better.”

  “When Sheriff Poole gets back, he’ll be happy.”

  “Yes, Ester. He’ll be thrilled.”

  Carly knew she was in for a lecture when Jed returned to town but she wouldn’t waste time worrying about it. Where there was one rat, there was sure to be more.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Carly scrambled down the steps, Ester in her wake. They’d tied Vernon up good and tight and left the unconscious gang leader on the floor of her bedroom with the door shut.

  She rushed up to the bar. “Alvin, close up. We’ve got trouble.”

  “What is it?” The barman immediately grabbed his shotgun and hefted it to his shoulder.

  “Vernon Crosby is trussed up like a roasted pig in my room.”

  Alvin’s mouth dropped open and he turned to Ester, who nodded her head emphatically.

  “That he is, like a-a pig! I got him good, didn’t I, Carly?” Ester spoke fast. She was excited and she had every right to be.

  “Shit. How the hell did he get in here?”

  Carly shook her head. “Came in the back way, I reckon. But we need to clear this place out. His boys are likely here or on their way. He would have told them where he was headed and when he doesn’t come back, they’ll be looking for him. And me.”

  Alvin banged the butt of his shotgun on the bar. The music stopped and all eyes turned toward him. “Everybody out. Saloon’s closed. See y’all tomorrow.”

  The men groaned and a few refused but the girls obeyed Carly’s stern finger pointed at the swinging doors and coaxed the men to leave the saloon with promises of a good time tomorrow.

  It took only ten minutes at the most before the bar was completely empty of customers.

  “Bar the door,” Carly ordered.

  Alvin was quick to find his broom and slide the handle between the door handles. “You ladies lock the back door,” he said.

  Big Judith and Blanche obliged. Carly called after them, “Grab your pistola if you have one.”

  Someone started banging on the door and Carly’s pulse quickened.

  “Who’s there?” she asked. They were no match for a gunfight.

  “Dr. Baxter. Let me in.”

  With relief, she took out the broom handle. Baxter came rushing inside, red-faced and breathing hard.

  “What are you up to?” he hollered. “I had customers’ orders ready to hand out tonight and now you’ve cleared the Lonesome. How am I supposed to make any money if they aren’t here?”

  Carly replaced the broom handle. “Hold your horses, Doc, we’ve got trouble coming to the Lonesome. Your customers will have to wait.”

  Dr. Baxter grabbed hold of his lapels. He’d worked up quite a lather. “Then I won’t be staying if it’s all the same to you.”

  She shook her head. The man surely was a coward. As she reached for the broom handle, she heard a shriek.

  Carly whirled around. A rough hombre with four companions entered the back way. He held on to Blanche by the hair. Two others had put Judith in an arm hold.

  “You boys skedaddle.” She spoke calmly even though she knew they must be part of the gang. “We’re closed.”

  “The Lonesome closes wee bit early, in my estimation,” the vile man replied.

  Carly frowned.

  “Why so glum? Me and boys are here to have a little fun. Don’t you want to join us?”

  Carly tightened her fists. The Crosby gang were murderers and scoundrels and she wanted no part of them. “Best you leave those dollies be. Come back in the morning. We’ll be open again then.”

  Dr. Baxter slinked around to the side of the bar and then quickly made a break for the back door. Carly could only hope he was trying to find Jack Finney to come and help but somehow she doubted it. Doc sure was one scaredy-cat.

  And nobody else in town was fool enough to get involved.

  “I ain’t coming back in the morning. I’m thirsty now.” The man holding Blanche stalked up to the bar, dragging her with him, and slammed his fist down on the wood. “Whiskey! For me and my friends.”

  Two of the men accompanying him walked to the bar, laughter curling their lips. Judith struggled in their arms but stopped when one of them smacked her. The others held back as if keeping guard.

  Carly was surrounded.

  Alvin stepped behind the bar, his gun pointed at the men. “The lady said we’re closed. Best be heeding her advice and head on out of here.”

  The man laughed until his body shook. “Put that toy away, if you know what’s good for you, and get me the damn whiskey.”

  When Alvin opened his mouth to respond, the hombre shoved Blanche aside and lunged, knocking away Alvin’s gun. He whipped out his own gun and pressed it to Alvin’s forehead. “I told you to put it away and now I’ve had to take it from you. You’ve made me angry, little man.”

  The other two ne’er-do-wells thrust Judith toward Blanche. They clung to each other and rushed over with Lorraine, Gladys and Ester.

  “Leave him alone.” Carly clenched her fists at her sides. She was desperate to grab the shotgun, which had ended up at the end of the bar.

  He chuckled and raised his hands to mock her. “Now don’t you get yourself in a lather.”

  Carly had to protect the ladies from these varmints.

  The no-account gripped Alvin by the neck. “Where is my boss?”

  Alvin elbowed the man in the ribs and he let go.

  Carly took advantage of his distraction and seized the shotgun.

  “Take your weapons and drop them on the floor,” she commanded.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, whore, I still got my gun trained on the barkeep here.” The hombre’s voice was gravelly, hoarse, and he was holding on to his side.

  “I can see that, but I have a shotgun pointed at your privates and I won’t hesitate to shoot.”

  “Even still, your man will die.”

  Poor Alvin winced. She wanted to reassure him but couldn’t let on she cared.

  Instead, Carly shrugged. “Maybe, but so will you. I hear a ball shot bleeds a man out in a couple of hours.”

  His lips thinned against his teeth. No doubt he didn’t trust her a lick, but he couldn’t afford to take the chance she might shoot.

  “No need to get feisty. All we came for was our trail boss.”

  “Your boss is dead. He came in here earlier, intent on settling a score with me.” Her lies came easily. She’d had plenty of practice. “I sent him to his maker right quick, still had a smile on his lips when he took his last breath.”

  “You’re lying.” The man turned slowly toward hers, as if trying to see the deception in her expression. Carly held the weapon steady, kept her eyes cold and unflinching.

  She’d never shot a man before, the hole in her wall was testament to her abilities with a pistol. A shotgun scattered shot every which way. She was bound to hit the hombre somewhere.

  Sweat broke out on his forehead.

  “Ready to take that chance?” She pulled back on the hammer. The click sent shivers up her spine.

  He glanced between her and the shotgun aimed at his withered cock.

  “Toss your weapons,” she said, “slow and steady.”

  His Peacemaker slipped from his grip and fell to the floor.

  “Take a seat.” She waved the shotgun in the direction of the nearest table.

  He pulled out a chair and slumped into it.

  “Keep your hands where I can see them.” She picked up his Colt. It was considerably heavier than the pistola. She didn’t shy from aiming it at her prisoner.

  The man growled but did as he was told. He folded his hands on the table as if he was at a prayer meeting.

  “The rest of you can drop your weapons.”

  They smirked until she pulled back the hammer on the Colt. Holding a weapon in each hand, she watched as each man unbuckled his belt. When they’d finished, she took a deep breath. “Now your knives.”

  The m
en grimaced but drew their knives out of their boots and slid them across the rough planks.

  “Judith, you go on and collect those weapons.”

  Judith picked up her skirt and piled the weapons in a bundle. “Where should I put ‘em?”

  “Behind the bar.” Carly motioned with the barrel. “Now you boys can join your friend at the table.”

  The rest of the men didn’t argue and went to sit on the chairs.

  “Are you all right?” she asked Alvin.

  Her barkeep’s hand shook as he moved beside her, taking back his shotgun. “I will be as soon as we see the backside of these fellars.”

  Carly welcomed a surge of affection for the man who always was ready to defend the ladies of the Lonesome.

  “Blanche, find some rope and tie these customers to their seats.”

  The girl scurried away to the back room.

  Gladys crossed her arms. “What are we supposed to do now?”

  “Wait for the sheriff,” Carly replied.

  “How long will that take?”

  “Not long, since these are the no-accounts he’s looking for.”

  Blanche returned with a length of twine and a kitchen knife. All weapons turned on the gang members as Blanche wrapped the twine around them, securing them to their chairs.

  “Maybe we could check their pockets,” Blanche said. “If they robbed the stage, they’re bound to have silver on them.”

  “Whatever coin they have belongs to the depositors of the Wells Fargo Bank.” Carly couldn’t believe she’d actually said that. They could use the extra coin but she wouldn’t abide breaking the law like these hombres had done. Jed and his ways were rubbing off on her.

  Carly flopped down in a chair. It’d been a long night, with death visiting Tucson. Soon the gang would be behind bars and the lawlessness they’d brought to their town would be behind them.

  She couldn’t help but smile thinking about what Jed would say when he returned. Six desperadoes this time. They’d a great deal to celebrate.

  * * * * *

  Jed and Travis hunkered down as the wind kicked up and stinging sand blinded them. They’d found no sign of the gang.

  “I’m going back,” Jed said as he pulled down his bandana. “The gang must be in Mexico by now.”

  “Think I’ll keep after them.” Travis shifted in his saddle. “Look for the strongbox.”

  “I reckon we’ll see you back in Tucson.”

  Travis saluted and turned his horse’s head south. Jed covered his nose and mouth with his bandana and pointed Shooter home. The gang always seemed to be one step ahead of him. They were a wily bunch but he’d every confidence their days living outside the law were about over.

  The way back was miserable—fighting all nature could throw at him and his horse. Shooter was part mustang and surefooted as a billy goat and they made good time. When the sun crested the mountains, the wind died down.

  The temperature warmed as he made his way down Main Street. He removed his bandana and, wadding it into a ball, wiped his forehead and neck. Some vittles and a hot bath and shave were high on his list. He passed the carpenter’s shop. He was pounding on white oak planks, putting together a coffin. Jed tipped his hat.

  He saw with relief the Lonesome was quiet. Carly for once took his advice. Last night’s shooting had put the town on edge. He dismounted and walked. He hadn’t gotten far when Jack Finney came bounding out of the sheriff’s office. He must’ve been waiting and watching for Jed. Surprisingly, he was all smiles.

  “Sheriff, there’s been a ruckus over at the Lonesome. Got a message from one of the gals. Seems we’re needed.”

  “Anybody hurt?” Jed dreaded the answer.

  “No, but you’ll not believe what those ladies managed to do.”

  A sly-looking Gladys slipped from the sheriff’s office and trailed her hand down Jack’s arm. Seems like the boy had gotten a little fun in… He’d have to talk to him about mixing business with pleasure.

  Jed handed off his horse to Jack. “Shooter needs some oats.”

  The boy gazed longingly at Gladys then nodded in Jed’s direction. “Yes sir.”

  Jed headed toward the Lonesome. What in tarnation had Carly got up to now? He’d half a mind to turn her over on his knee and give her a good spanking. The thought made his blood rush to his cock. But he couldn’t be thinking like that. Something was amiss.

  His pace increased. There were no two ways about it. Next time he left town, he’d put a deputy in charge right outside the batwing doors. Trouble found her like a cocklebur.

  The doors were boarded shut. He gave them a kick a mule would be proud of and the wood splintered. He pushed his way inside.

  The saloon girls sat around tables, sleepy-eyed and yawning. Each one held a revolver. The barkeep swung a shotgun around to warn off the intruder.

  “Put that thing down, Alvin.” Jed’s gaze swept the room for a red dress.

  The girls scrambled from their seats and parted to show him what had caused them to stay up all night. Four men, tied up and gagged, struggled to speak.

  Carly sashayed up to him, her eyes red from lack of sleep. “I’m sure happy you’re back.”

  He scowled. “Who are these men?”

  She took him by the arm and rested her head on his shoulder. “Sheriff Poole, these are the men working for Vernon Crosby. I believe you want them for thieving and murdering.”

  Jed pushed his hat back on his head. He’d never seen such a sight—ornery men bested by a bevy of gun-toting saloon dollies.

  “That leaves Vernon Crosby for me,” he said.

  Carly yawned. “You don’t have to bother. He’s upstairs in my room unconscious. Ester hit him with an iron skillet.”

  “Yes, I did.” Ester sprang to her feet. Jed hadn’t noticed her.

  For a moment he was speechless. “You mean all of the gang has been rounded up?”

  “Every last one.” She pulled away. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Don’t you fret. There’ll be other criminals for you to catch sooner or later.”

  Big Judith adjusted the bodice on her lavender-colored gown and placed her weapon between her breasts. “Now that the sheriff is here, I’m going to bed.”

  “I’m not cut out for this kind of work,” Blanche said. With a huff, she followed Judith and climbed the stairs.

  “You girls can go up,” Carly said to Lorraine and Gladys, who’d just walked back into the saloon. “I believe the sheriff means to take over from here.”

  The two women dragged themselves up the stairs, the feathers in their hair drooping.

  Carly set her hand on the nearest prisoner. “You’ll need help getting this gang to the jailhouse.”

  She’d done good, he reckoned, and was enjoying her victory. He couldn’t have been more proud of her. She was a strong woman. A woman with her abilities, he reckoned, was a woman fit to be a sheriff’s wife.

  Jed drew his weapon. “Cut ‘em loose and let’s get started.”

  Carly used a knife to saw through the twine. The first man jerked so hard he fell forward. Jed grabbed him by the collar before he fell and hauled him to his feet.

  “You’ve got a lot to account for, mister,” Jed said.

  “I didn’t do nothing,” he said, rubbing his arms.

  “You boys left a trail of death and destruction from here to Nogales.”

  The man glared at him. “You can’t prove anything.”

  Jed parted the man’s buckskin vest with the barrel of his gun, revealing an overloaded money belt.

  “I’ll take that.”

  The prisoner unbuckled the belt and tossed it on the table. The bulging belt clinked when it landed, no doubt filled with silver coin. His upper lip curled into a snarl.

  Carly finished cutting the twine on the other prisoners. Jed told them to stand. They scrambled to their feet, grumbling.

  “What about the man I bashed?” Ester asked.

  “He’ll keep,” Jed replied. He’d no way to carry
an unconscious man. He motioned for the men to lead the way. “You know where the jailhouse is.”

  Carly started after them.

  “Where are you going?” He didn’t have to ask.

  “You need help.” There was a great deal of satisfaction in her expression.

  He wouldn’t deny her the pleasure of finishing what she’d started. Even Ester came along.

  They tramped their way down the middle of the street. Folks poked their heads out of buildings, pointing at what they saw. Some huddled together, fear obvious in their expressions. Apparently, no one had slept.

  When they reached the jail, Jack Finney was at the door.

  “What a sight for sore eyes,” he said.

  “Grab a couple of fellas and go back to the Lonesome,” Jed told him. “Vernon Crosby’s been knocked out and needs carrying.”

  Jack put on his hat, bowed to Carly and Ester, then left.

  “Go on,” Jed said. The gang needed a little nudging with the barrel of his Colt. They dragged their sorry hides into the cell.

  “Quite a crowd,” Carly said.

  Jed shut the door and locked it. He turned to confront her. “Darlin’, don’t you ever try that again.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Me and the girls weren’t in the mood to entertain these no-accounts until you returned.”

  Jed shook his head. She was pretty but she was stubborn. “What you did was mighty dangerous.”

  She touched his vest and fondled the buttons on his shirt. He was hard in an instant. Her touch made his skin tingle and all he could think about was the last time they’d been in the cell together.

  “I expect we won’t have to arrest criminals anymore with a sheriff at our beck and call.”

  Jed was glad they’d come to an understanding.

  “How about a celebration?” She purred like a kitten.

  A celebration was called for, and as soon as he had Vernon Crosby in custody and guards posted for the night, he intended to take her up on her invite.

  He was about to tell her so when a violent explosion ripped through the morning’s peace.

  “What the hell?” Jed drew his weapon and went outside. Carly and Jack were at his heels. They stared in disbelief as black smoke billowed from the back of the Lonesome.

  Carly’s mouth fell open. Ester clung to her.