by Jane Toombs
“So he ain’t on our side.” O’Folliard aimed the carbine.
“No!” Ezra flung himself at the Texan, knocking the gun from his hands, then scrambled
to his feet, pulling his Colt as he faced O’Folliard.
“I’ll see you dead before I let you kill Mark Halloran,” Ezra snarled. “Hey,” O’Folliard protested. “You and me’s working together, right?” “Put the carbine away,” Ezra ordered.
O’Folliard shrugged, eyeing the Colt. He shoved the carbine into the scabbard. “Okay, smart-ass, what now?”
Ezra took a deep breath. “We ride down and escort Halloran to Billy.” He reholstered the Colt.
“And get shot for our pains.”
“He won’t shoot me,” Ezra said, sounding more positive than he felt.
Mark did work for Dolan, after all, and no Dolan man was any damn good. Wasn’t a one could be trusted.
“Then you go meet this old friend of yours,” O’Folliard said. “I’ll just mosey back to Billy and let him know what’s coming. One more thing, boy. You don’t pull a gun on me again and live to tell it.”
They remounted and their horses scrambled down the hill. As O’Folliard galloped toward the Regulators, Ezra headed at a trot toward Mark, tense and nervous, but at the same time sort of pleased with himself for facing up to O’Folliard.
He hailed Mark, then stopped to wait for him, keeping his right hand hovering near the butt of his Colt.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Mark said as he came up.
Ezra relaxed a little, seeing Mark was making no move to go for his gun.
“Here I am.”
Mark raised his eyebrows. “Where you ought to be is back in Lincoln.”
Ezra shook his head. “I’m riding with Billy now. We’re protecting McSween. I have to bring you up to Billy so he can decide what to do about you following us.”
“The only reason I’m here is to find you, I promised your sister I’d bring you back with me.”
“Well, damn it, you almost got shot, and all for nothing because I’m not about to desert The Regulators when they need me.”
“Tessa needs you more than they do,” Mark said. “Peppin and some of his friends had the nerve to insult her in the street last month. She isn’t safe alone in Lincoln any more. She needs your protection.”
“McSween wouldn’t have left his wife in town if there was going to be trouble,” Ezra said.
“There’s going to be trouble.”
“What’s Dolan mean to do?”
“Dolan can’t control those gunslingers he’s hired any more than McSween can control The Regulators,” Mark said, “Lincoln’s got too many men on the prod--no man can control them. One of these days there’ll be a hell of a shoot-out. You have a little brother in town as well as your sister. You’re no good to either of them out here in the hills.”
“If you don’t like what Dolan’s doing, how come you keep working for him?”
“I take care of his cows, not his other business.”
Ezra sneered. “That’s what you say.”
Mark’s expression didn’t change. “You ready to ride back?”
As Ezra started to refuse, the sight and sound of horses coming up fast from the southeast
made him pause.
Billy and O’Folliard rode into sight. Billy saluted Mark, grinning. “Come to join us?” “Tessa asked me to come after Ezra,” he said.
Ezra flushed in anger and humiliation, Mark talked like he was still a little boy.
Billy glanced at him, then back at Mark. “Sounds like a good idea. Ain’t no one protecting the women at McSween’s except Shield and he’s no great hand with a gun. Ez is damn good.”
“But The Regulators--” Ezra began.
“Old Texas Tom here can sit in for you, Ez,” Billy said. “You get back to Lincoln. “He smiled and waved, then wheeled his gray and galloped away with Tom O’Folliard.
As Ezra fell in behind Mark, headed the other way, he swallowed repeatedly, trying to get rid of a lump in his throat the size of a Mexican orange. It was plain to see that Billy didn’t want him around anymore. Just wait. He’d prove he was as good a man as O’Folliard. A better man.
Chapter 8
On the fourteenth of July, Billy led McSween and the Regulators back to Lincoln. Ezra listened to the tales of Dolan’s men attacking them while they were at Chisum’s ranch near Roswell.
“Chisum’s hacienda is a regular fort,” Billy told Ezra. “Not a one of us got a scratch and after a couple of hours they gave up.”
“You think they’re on your trail now?”
Billy shrugged. “Most likely. McSween, he wanted to come home. Said he was tired of running and he was going to make a stand in his own house if it came to that.”
“Men!” Alex shouted above the babble of voices. The talking died away as they all looked toward him. “It’s Sunday and I intend to lead us in prayer before we make our plans.”
“Oh, Lord,” he intoned, “touch the hearts of our enemies with Thy goodness and mercy that we may live to praise Thee another day.”
Ezra listened, thinking it strange that Alex still persisted in hoping for peace while Dolan kept hounding him. He’d never seen a foxhunt, but Papa had described them often, and it seemed like what Dolan was doing with Alex, the fox he and his men harried from place to place.
Except Alex had Billy and the Regulators to protect him.
After the “amen” the men split up. Alex’s Mexican supporters, twenty-five strong, took refuge in Montano’s store next to the courthouse, across the street east of the McSween house.
Farther east, on the outskirts of town, another fifteen men holed up at Ellis’ place. That left fifteen, handpicked by Billy to guard the McSween house.
“You know, Billy, there’s fifty-six of us, counting me,” Ezra said. “Why don’t we get together and take over the town? I bet we could do it, ‘cause there ain’t many Dolan men back from the Pecos yet.”
“I wanted to,” Billy said. “McSween wouldn’t hear of it. He’s the boss. Come on, let’s get at fortifying the place.”
The house, like the rest of those in Lincoln, was of adobe thick enough to stop a bullet. Ezra organized Jules and the Shield children into a squad to fetch and carry supplies to the men. Rosalita, Tessa, Susie and Elizabeth Shield huddled together apprehensively as the men barricaded windows with adobe bricks, piled dirt-filled bags against outer doorways and drilled gun holes through walls.
“This is war,” Ezra told Tessa. “We may have to withstand a siege.”
She stared at him a moment, then straightened and turned to the other women. “We must help,” she said. “First of all, Rosalita, is there enough food to feed our army?” “I don’t think so,” Rosalita said.
“Then we must bring extra food from Tunstall’s store into the house,” Tessa said. “We’ll also need extra water stored inside. And more blankets.”
By Monday morning the McSween house was well-nigh impregnable.
In the early afternoon Sheriff Peppin sent Deputy Long to the house with a demand that ten of the men, including Billy and McSween, surrender.
As Long stood by the gate, shouting out the names, Billy nudged Ezra, saying, “Watch this.” He sighted along his Winchester that was thrust through one of the gun holes.
The rifle cracked. Long’s hat flew off, a bullet through its crown. Two other men fired, deliberately missing, kicking up dust at Long’s feet. He turned and hurried out of range, disappearing from sight.
“I got to talk to McSween again,” Billy said.
Ezra followed him to where Alex sat at his desk, Bible open in front of him.
“Like I told you before, we can take the bastards,” Billy said to him. “O’Folliard slipped through town early this morning scouting, on account of they don’t know him around here. He says there’s only a few families in the houses--everyone else has skedaddled. And Dolan’s got maybe ten men. Most of Peppin’s posse’s at San Patr
icio, looking for us there.
“You can bet Peppin’s sent for the posse. Plus those gunslingers from the Pecos will be here sooner or later. We oughta hit Dolan before their reinforcements get here or before he tries to call in the army again. We can wipe ‘em out like a nest of rattlesnakes if we do it now.”
Alex hesitated a moment before saying, “No, I think we ought to stay inside. “Tom may be mistaken about the number of Dolan men in town. Besides, we’re defenders, not attackers.” “I think we ought to take them on while we can.”‘ Billy persisted.
Alex touched the Bible. “ ‘Vengeance belonged unto me…saith the Lord.’”
“Dolan thinks vengeance belongs to him,” Billy said. “You got to fight fire with fire.” “We won’t leave the house,” Alex told him.
Billy shrugged and turned away, for once not smiling.
An hour or so later, a fusillade of rifle shots made all the men spring to their gun ports, Winchesters ready.
“Some of the boys are trying to get over here from Montano’s store,” O’Folliard said, peering from the front of the house. “There’s Dolan men hidden in that old Mexican tower the other side of Tunstall’s store taking pot shots at them.” Everyone crowded around him to see.
“Back to your posts,” Billy cried. “Peppin could walk right in the back with all of us gawping from the front like this.”
Men on the east side of McSween’s house poured a stream of lead at the old tower where the Dolan men were holed-up. In return, bullets thudded into the adobe walls of the house. Some smashed windows and glass fragments flew between the protective bricks to scatter over the floor.
“Oh Lord, will You not put a stop to this hatred?” Alex prayed. “Will You not enlighten the sinful hearts of our foes before blood is spilled?”
“Not much chance of that,” Billy muttered to Ezra.
The McSween men retreated back into Montano’s store and the firing eased, finally stopping. Day passed into evening and then into night.
On Tuesday sharpshooters from both sides, stationed on rooftops, fired every time they saw someone make a move to leave a building.
By Wednesday the children, except for Jules, complained about being inside for yet another hot day. Jules sat listlessly on his bed, and when Tessa felt his forehead, she knew immediately why he was so quiet. He was running a fever.
As the day went on, Jules began to vomit repeatedly until at last he was bringing up only mucus flecked with blood. By late afternoon Tessa made up her mind Jules had to be seen by Dr. Ealy, who lived next door in Tunstall’s store with his family and Susan Gates. Ezra offered to carry his brother over, but Tessa shook her head.
“Dolan’s men aren’t likely to shoot at a woman,” she said. ‘They would at you. I’ll take him.”
“She’s right,” Billy told Ezra. “It’s safer for her than for any of us men.” He turned to
Tessa. “Go out the front so they can see clear you’re a woman.”
Tessa picked up Jules who lay limp and semi-conscious in her arms. Ezra opened the front door and she stepped into the long shadows of early evening. The door thudded shut behind her. The town seemed eerily silent--not even a dog barked.
She hurried into the road and walked as fast as she could toward Tunstall’s store. She knew there were still Dolan men in the old torreon, the stone tower, on the other side of the store. Were their rifles trained on her, following her? She half-expected to hear a shot, the zing of a bullet.
She breathed easier when she reached the store porch. A moment later the door opened and Dr. Ealy took Jules from her arms.’
“We saw you coming with him,” the doctor said. “Has he been shot?”
“No, a fever and vomiting until blood came.” Tessa bit her lip as she watched Dr. Ealy lay Jules atop a table. Her brother was so white and still that he almost looked dead.
Dr. Ealy finished examining him and turned to her. “He’ll be all right after I get some fluid into him by clyster. You leave him here with us tonight and I’ll keep an eye on him. Stay yourself if you like.”
“Thank you. Maybe it would be best.”
Thursday morning Jules managed to eat a thin rice gruel prepared by Susan Gates and kept it down. Though still whey-faced and droopy, he was obviously improving.
“I’m so happy he’s better,” Susan told her.
“I’ll take him back if the doctor agrees,” Tessa said. “I haven’t seen him or any of the Ealy’s this morning, Surely they didn’t leave the building?”
“Oh, but they did. The doctor was asked to go and treat Ben Ellis yesterday for a neck wound. He just couldn’t because every time he tried to leave here, they shot at him from the tower. When he saw you weren’t fired on, this morning he took Mrs. Ealy and the children with him up to Ellis’ place. My heart was in my mouth watching them, but it was all right. No one fired a single shot.”
As Susan spoke a rifle cracked. Both women spring to their feet and raced to the window. There was no one in the road, but when Tessa hurried to look from a back window, she drew in her breath.
“Look, Susan!”
A man lay sprawled in the field between Tunstall’s store and the tower. “Oh, dear God, it’s not the doctor, is it?” Susan cried, “No, no, you can see it’s not.
Susan looked down at the man. “Is he dead?”
“I think he moved one of his hands.”
The sun was rising higher, bright and hot. How long could a wounded man survive in July heat with no water, no medical attention? Tessa wondered.
“We have to go out and get him,” she told Susan. “Bring him into the store. Dr. Ealy’ll be back sooner or later.”
Susan stared at her.
“We’ll roll him in a blanket and each take an end. “If he’s too heavy, we’ll drag him.” Susan nodded her face pale, but determined.
As the two women eased the wounded man onto the blanket after removing his gun belt, he groaned and opened his eyes briefly. Tessa, who’d thought at first he was a stranger, tensed, recognizing him as the man who’d humiliated her when Peppin halted her near Dolan’s store.
They were rescuing an enemy.
“What’s the matter?” Susan asked as Tessa stopped helping her. She cast an uneasy glance at the spot where Dolan sharpshooter’s waited.
“Nothing.” There was no point in making Susan more upset than she already was. Tessa forced the blanket ends nearest her together.
He was a stocky man, heavy, and hard to pull across the ground to Tunstall’s store. Perspiration beaded Tessa’s face and trickled between her breasts by the time they reached the nearest door which led to part of the store where Susan and the Ealy’s lived.
Susan hurried to fetch cloths and a basin of water then started to wash the blood from the man’s head, but Tessa, after she’d hidden his Colt and gun belt in a hall cupboard, couldn’t bring herself to help. She stood back watching Susan,
It was all very well to be a good Samaritan, but she didn’t want to touch the red-haired man.
He opened his eyes and immediately reached a hand toward his head.
“Don’t,” Susan said mildly. “You’ve been wounded.”
He paid no attention, pushing away her arm and probing his wound.
“Just a crease.” he muttered, wincing. He tried to sit up.
“I think you ought to rest,” Susan objected.
He seemed to really see her for the first time. “You’re the Gates woman,” he said, lying back. He glanced from side to side and spotted Tessa. His eyes widened.
“Yes, I’m Susan Gates.”
He looked back at Susan. “Hank Kilgore,” he muttered. “How’d I get in here?”
“We saw you lying in the field to the east. You’d been shot.”
Frowning, Hank made another attempt to sit up. Susan helped him. He drew up his knees, put his arms about them and leaned forward, head down.
“Hurts something fierce.”
“I’1l see if I can find some opium,” Su
san said.
Tessa hurried after her as Susan left the room.
“Mr. Kilgore is one of Dolan’s men,” she whispered to Susan. “And not a very nice one.”
“I can’t see that it makes a difference. It’s our duty to take care of the injured.”
“I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any Dolan man.” Tessa bit her lip as soon as she’d spoken, for Susan knew very well that Mark Halloran had brought back Ezra at Tessa’s request.
“I especially can’t trust Mr. Kilgore,” she went on. “He--”
Jules called to Tessa from where he lay on a cot. She broke off to go to him.
“I want my own bed,” he complained. “It’s lonesome here.”
Tessa could see for herself that Jules was much better, but she didn’t dare leave Susan alone in the store with Hank Kilgore.
“We’ll wait for Dr. Ealy to return,” she told him. “If he says it’s all right, I’ll take you back to Uncle Alex’s.”
Tessa stayed with Jules for a time, telling him the story he liked best, about how his great-great-great-grandfather Nesbitt, fighting for England in the war against Spain, had saved his company from death by a daring ruse.
“When I grow up, I’m going to be a brave soldier too, Jules told her.
“You don’t have to be a soldier to be brave.”
“Ezra is brave,” he said. “Like Billy.”
Tessa frowned, but said nothing. She hoped she wouldn’t have to dissuade Jules from
tagging after Billy the way Ezra did. She was so tired of shooting and killing. Was there no place in the West where people lived in peace with one another?
Tessa sought out Susan, found her leaving the room where Hank Kilgore lay on the floor. “I think the opium is putting him to sleep,” Susan whispered.
Tessa peered in at him. He looked harmless enough, curled on his side, eyes closed. And Susan was right. They couldn’t have left him in the field, even if she’d known beforehand who he was.
The Ealy’s returned in the early afternoon and the doctor got Hank in a chair to examine his head. “Most likely a brain concussion from the bullet striking against your skull,” he told him. “That’s what knocked you out. You’ll have a headache for a day or two.”
