When he was close enough that he could be seen from the shack, he stopped his horse in a spot where an outcropping of rock broke the force of the wind and dismounted, waiting for Felton to catch up to him.
The line shack was totally exposed on all sides, so there was no way they were going to sneak up in broad daylight. About twenty steps away from the shack, a spring wagon was pulled up next to a lean-to where they probably kept their horses. A single cottonwood shaded the lean-to, but it was bare of leaves and wouldn't provide cover. About twenty steps the other direction was a privy. It was equally exposed to view from the cabin. Paths had been stomped in the ankle-high snow to both the privy and the lean-to. Deputy Joe had chosen a good place for a standoff, if that was what he had in mind.
Kerrigan heard Felton before he saw him.
“I guess we were mistaken,” Felton said, dismounting next to the gunslinger. “I thought sure the deputy planned to ambush you on the way down here. Since he didn't, what the hell do you think's going on?”
“Who knows,” Kerrigan answered irritably.
“You seen anybody moving around outside?” Felton asked.
“Yeah. I've seen three of Levander's gang.” He had been watching the shack long enough to see one man step outside to scrape a bunch of dishes, and for another to throw out a pan of dirty water on the snow. The third man had shaken out a blanket and hung it, along with a mattress, over a hitching rail out front.
“Were the men you saw carrying guns?”
Kerrigan frowned. “Nope.”
“What were they doing outside?”
“It's hard to say,” Kerrigan hedged. “I mean, I know what it looked like. But I might be mistaken.”
“Well? Spit it out.”
Kerrigan took off his hat and drove his fingers through his hair. “It looked like they were cleaning house.”
“It's a little early for spring cleaning, don't you think?”
“I'm telling you what it looked like,” Kerrigan maintained stubbornly.
At that moment the door opened. Both men tensed. The doorway was deeply shadowed, and they waited for a sign of any movement inside.
Kerrigan drew his gun and checked the cylinders. Maybe something would happen now. He drew a breath and held it, waiting. Finally, someone came through the door.
It was the huge man, the former boxer, Bud. He had a broom, and he was carefully sweeping a pile of trash across the threshold and out the door.
Felton's eyes grew wide and he looked incredulously at Kerrigan. Kerrigan shrugged as though to say, See what I mean?
“What do we do now?” Felton asked.
“We wait.”
“How long?”
“Until dark. Or until Deputy Joe shows up.”
Miss Devlin had spent a rather hectic day cleaning the line shack, with the grudging cooperation of Bud, Hogg, Doanie, and Stick. Levander had spent the day in bed playing a continuous game of solitaire. The past hour she had labored over the stove, in an attempt to make some stew. Cooking had never been her strong point, and she was anticipating a great deal of unhappy clamor when she finally presented her concoction at the table.
She surveyed the interior of the room. Bud had done most of the lifting and carrying as she rearranged the meager furniture and then helped with the sweeping. Hogg and Doanie had done the washing and dusting, while Stick had done the shaking out. The line shack was as clean and straightened as it could get, given what he had to work with. From the conversation the simpleminded men were having, even this poor place was a step up in the world from what they were used to having.
“My ma liked things clean like this,” Stick said as he watched Miss Devlin stirring the pot on the stove. “Used to sweep the dirt off her floor every day. Only it was a dirt floor, so it never really got clean.”
Doanie had cornered a spot at the table and waited with a plate in front of him and a fork in his hand. “Never had no ma,” he said, “but my pa used to make me wash dishes every day when my schoolwork was done.”
“Never went to school,” Hogg said, “and never had no house to keep clean. But if I had, I woulda, 'cause it shore looks purtier this way.”
Bud worked to straighten all the wrinkles from the blanket he had brought back inside from its airing, and laid it across the bunk he had claimed. “B-b-b-bud never had no bed to make up nice,” he said. “Or no dishes to wash, neither. Mostly slept on the floor and ate from the can.”
Miss Devlin heard in their stories the kind of start in life that might send a man down the wrong path. And none of these men had possessed much horse sense to keep them on the straight and narrow. It was a shame, really.
She had stopped being afraid of the simpleminded men when she realized how readily they followed whatever instructions she gave them. Whether she represented mother or father, preacher or teacher, in their small, hebetudinous minds, they each listened and obeyed her when she spoke. She continued to give Levander Early a wide berth and shuddered at the thought of her fate when the Boss returned.
“If you'll all please come to the table, supper is ready,” Miss Devlin said.
There were only three chairs, but Levander had already said he wasn't going to sit down with them, and Doanie and Hogg had rigged a bench out of a broken slat and two half-empty five-gallon buckets of Seroco's Weatherproof Mineral Barn, Roof, and Fence Paint.
She dished out a serving of stew to everyone, including Levander, who had dinner in bed.
“A gentleman waits to begin eating until a lady is seated,” she advised, when she saw Doanie about to fork in a mouthful of stew.
He held the fork in front of his mouth, waiting for her bottom to hit the chair. The instant it did, the stew hit his mouth. After that, the entire dinner became a lesson in table etiquette, with Miss Devlin no sooner catching one faux pas than another occurred. Meanwhile, she waited for a complaint about the quality of her stew.
Instead, she heard “Them's mighty fine vittles, Miss Devlin” from Stick, followed by Bud's “T-t-t-tastes good, ma'am.”
Between mouthfuls Doanie managed, “Never et such good stew,” and Hogg added, “Pure deee-liciou
Every single man—including Levander—licked his plate clean. Well, not literally, because she had advised them that picking up a plate to lick it with one's tongue simply was not done.
“Then how'm I supposed to get the gravy?” Stick demanded.
“You may sop it with a piece of bread,” Miss Devlin instructed.
“I ain't got no bread.”
That was true. Miss Devlin thought for a moment and said, “You have a spoon, don't you?”
“Shore do.”
“Then you may use your spoon.”
It was full dark by the time they had finished eating and washed the dishes. There was no sign of the Boss, and Miss Devlin would as soon have forgotten about him, except she wondered how long she was going to have to sleep sitting up.
“What do you suppose happened to Deputy Joe?” she asked. “Shouldn't he have been back by now?”
“No tellin',” Levander said. “It'd depend on how soon Kerrigan came lookin' for you when he got the note.”
“What if he ignored the note?” she asked. “What if he isn't interested in finding me?”
“Then it's gonna be too bad for you,” Levander said with a lascivious grin.
Miss Devlin took that to mean she wouldn't be leaving this place alive. When she looked to the other men for confirmation of Levander's threat, they refused to meet her eyes, which was really all the confirmation she needed.
With only the light from a single lantern, there wasn't much they could do after dark. After the hard day they had spent cleaning, the four housekeepers were happy to go to bed early.
Apparently Levander wasn't tired, because he rose at last from the bed where he had spent the day and came to sit at a
chair at the table, where he laid out the cards once more for a game of solitaire.
“Don't you ever get tired of playing that game?” Miss Devlin asked in a sharp voice.
“Nope.”
With nothing else to do, Miss Devlin watched him play. “You cheated,” she said.
“Who you callin' a cheater?” he snarled.
“I saw you with my own eyes. You took a card from the middle of the deck.”
“You can't cheat when you're playin' by yourself,” he argued.
“If the rules don't count, you might as well turn the cards over and pick out the ones you need,” she said acidly.
Levander's eyes narrowed and his lip curled menacingly. “Why don't you shut up and mind your own damn beeswax. I was doin' fine till you horned in where you wasn't wanted.”
“I simply don't understand how anyone could enjoy playing a game where there is no conceivable chance you can lose. Where is the challenge, Mr. Early?”
Outside the line shack, his back pressed against the rotted wood, Kerrigan felt his lips twitching. He gave in and grinned. Only a woman like Eden Devlin could find herself in a philosophical discussion with an outlaw over a game of solitaire.
The argument continued, and he was grateful for the distraction she was unknowingly providing. Felton was working his way to the other side of the front door, which they had discovered was the only way in or out. A moment later he saw Felton was ready.
Kerrigan signaled to Felton and then counted mentally, One, two, three, GO!
They crashed through the door with their Colts in their hands, locating Eden before deadly bullets started flying at the outlaws.
Miss Devlin had a second to feel jubilation before she was grabbed by Levander, the lantern went soaring past her to crash on the floor in front of the two intruders, and the bore of a loaded .45 was jabbed into her temple.
She was appalled at the speed with which the four dull-witted outlaws found their weapons in the dark and brought them to bear on the two figures silhouetted momentarily in the growing fire caused by the broken lantern.
The gunfight was over almost before it began.
“Throw down your guns or I swear I'll blow her head off,” Levander shouted.
Kerrigan and Felton exchanged grim glances. Levander was going to kill Eden Devlin whether they threw down their guns or not. Felton left the decision up to Kerrigan.
Eden shook her head no. It was a slight gesture because the gun was pressed so tightly against her skull. “Don't do it, Kerrigan. You know he isn't going to let any of us live if you do.”
Levander grabbed a hank of Miss Devlin's hair and pulled so hard, she cried out in pain. “Hurry up, Kerrigan! I'm gettin' an itchy trigger finger here.”
Kerrigan couldn't take the chance that Levander wasn't bluffing. Eden might still get free if he kept the man talking, and he had his derringer in his boot. He let down the trigger of his .45 and dropped it on the floor. A moment later Felton's gun joined Kerrigan's.
“That's more like it,” Levander said with a smirk. “You two ain't so high and mighty anymore, are you?”
“Doanie, Hogg, come on over here and get their guns.”
“I can't move,” Doanie said. “Bullet broke a bone in my leg.”
“I got it in the gut,” Hogg said. “It don't look good, Levander.”
“Stick, you come get these guns,” Levander said.
Stick didn't answer.
“Stick?”
Doanie said, “He's dead.”
Miss Devlin closed her eyes against the pain of such waste. Her eyes flew open when Levander tightened his hold on her hair and pressed the gun into her cheek.
“I oughta kill you right now, right in front of their eyes,” Levander snarled.
A second later Levander felt a pair of hands go around his chest, and he was lifted off the ground. “What the hell?”
Bud, who had put out the fire caused by the broken lantern, had come up behind Levander and had him in a bear hug. “Y-y-y-you let the teacher be,” he said.
Levander's hand was caught in Miss Devlin's hair and he couldn't free it even if he wanted to. He kept the Colt pointed at her, since it was plain Kerrigan and the sheriff were waiting for a chance to grab their guns, which were still lying in plain sight in front of them.
“Put me down, Bud,” Levander ordered.
“L-l-l-let her go first,” Bud said, squeezing a little tighter.
Levander's hand suddenly came free of Miss Devlin's hair and he clawed at the burly arms that were crushing his chest. Miss Devlin started to move away and Levander warned, “Don't you move an inch, or I'll shoot. I swear I will.”
“C-c-c-can't shoot a teacher,” Bud said, his muscles bulging from the effort he was exerting.
The whites of Levander's eyes now showed, and it was clear he wasn't sure whether to keep the gun pointed at Miss Devlin, aim it at the two men in the doorway, or turn it on Bud, who was slowly but surely squeezing the life out of him.
“Bud, you gotta put me down,” Levander rasped.
“C-c-c-can't shoot a teacher,” Bud repeated. His grasp tightened.
Unable to breathe, Levander panicked. He swung his .45 around and shot over his shoulder at Bu
Everything happened at once.
Kerrigan dove for Eden, enfolding her in his arms and rolling them both out of harm's way.
Felton dove for his gun and rolled the other direction, ready to provide covering fire.
Bud grunted as the slug from Levander's gun hit him above the heart. “C-c-c-can't shoot . . .” His voice faded as he used the last of his strength to break Levander's back and slowly squeeze the life out of him. When Bud no longer felt any resistance from the man in his arms, he let go, and Levander toppled to the floor. A moment later, Bud fell dead beside him.
“Oh Lordy, oh Lordy, oh Lordy.” The littany of woe came from Doanie as he lay in his bunk.
“Poor Bud. Poor Stick. Poor Levander. Poor Hogg. All dead,” Hogg said, putting himself in the same class as the other dead men, knowing it was only a matter of time before his belly wound killed him.
“You ain't gonna die, Hogg,” Doanie said.
Miss Devlin struggled out of Kerrigan's arms and hurried over to kneel beside Hogg and Doanie's bunk. It only took a moment to realize Hogg was probably right. The chances were slim that he would survive. But there had been enough tragedy here tonight, Miss Devlin thought angrily, and surely the fates could spare this unhappy soul.
“Help me, Kerrigan. Maybe we can stop the bleeding. If the bullet didn't hit anything important, maybe we can save him.”
Kerrigan was nonplussed by Eden's attitude toward a man who had been one of those holding her prisoner, but she gave him a fierce look that warned him not to argue. He did what he could to help her with Hogg while Felton took care of Doanie's leg as best he could.
“There's room for both of them in the back of the spring wagon Deputy Joe used to bring me here,” Eden said. “We have to get them into town, to Doc Harper.”
“Eden, chances are—”
“Don't argue with me!” Eden said in a shrill voice.
Kerrigan could see she was near the edge. After everything she had been through, he could hardly blame her. He nodded to Felton to keep an eye on the wounded men and went out to harness up what animals he could find to the spring wagon. Eden made sure Kerrigan put the box containing the litter of kittens in the back along with Doanie and Hogg.
It was a long, cold trip back to Sweetwater. It was also a quiet trip. Kerrigan had started once to talk to her about the misunderstanding between them, but the knowledge that the two in the back of the wagon, and Felton riding beside them, would overhear everything he said kept him mute.
It was Eden who finally bro
ke the silen they were nearing town.
“Whatever happened to Deputy Joe?” she asked.
“I don't know,” Kerrigan admitted. “Maybe you can tell us.”
“After he dropped me off with Levander and his gang, he said he was heading back to town. He said he was on duty at the jail and didn't want you suspecting anything. Didn't he get there?”
Sweetwater Seduction Page 36
