As usual, Gilray sent men ahead to pick out their next jobs, and it was Elmer and Wes Woods who returned from Dallas, Texas, with information on a bank that was begging to be hit by the gang. They even brought sketch maps of the street layout, and Harmon Gilray settled down to make careful plans.
But, despite the minute and detailed organization for the job, it was to be the beginning chords of their swan song.
The problem for the Gilray gang was that they spent too much time in the wild country. Untutored and self-educated at best, this isolation kept them ignorant of facts they should have known. Even Harmon Gilray, though he was a cunning and intelligent man, did not fully realize or appreciate the fact that Dallas was a city. There would be no hick sheriff with a couple of deputies to face there. Instead there was a small but well organized police department that worked three shifts around the clock. When there was trouble at night, no one had to go wake up a sleepy town marshal at his home.
But much of their self-confidence and cockiness was badly shaken when they rode into the commercial area past the large Neiman-Marcus retail store. However, the Texas Southwest Bank sat there on the corner per the sketch map, and not one of the outlaws would betray his nervousness with suggestions to call off the robbery.
The attempt was a disaster from the start. Armed guards in the bank were the first to react. This was an ill-trained, poorly paid pair of ancient gunmen long past their prime. Their reaction to the sudden appearance of a half dozen masked men in the lobby was to open fire quickly and effectively.
Two bandits and three customers fell in the hail of lead. The return fire failed to hit the guards. Both, being experienced old hands, had leaped behind the counter with the tellers after their first fusillade.
When the firing broke out, Ben Cullen and Elmer Woods were out in the street holding the horses. A couple of city policemen who had been only a block away showed up quickly and cut loose on the two young men outside. Ben and Elmer fired wildly and inaccurately as Gilray led the other three survivors out of the bank and to the horses.
A wild gallop out of town followed. It would take a while before a pursuit could be mounted, so Gilray took complete advantage of the time to keep his men moving northward at a rapid pace. They finally slowed enough to keep from killing their horses, but their flight continued on north through the evening. After holing up during the hours of darkness, the gang was again on the run at first light. They didn’t stop until late that same day when Gilray led them into a small ranch yard a few miles north of Terral, Oklahoma Territory.
There was a husband, wife, and a teen-aged daughter at home. The gang was to learn that there were two sons also in the family, but they were north in the Creek Nation on a horse-buying errand. Gilray showed a streak of meanness in dealing with the rancher. Ben was upset the way he shoved the man around and bullied him, but rationalized that this was a desperate situation that called for some extreme measures.
But the incident with the girl was something else.
Hog Turpin was a randy son of a bitch. He went to Big Nell’s outside of Newton more than any of the others. The weeks on the trail had left him sexually frustrated, and the sight of the girl, who possibly was around fifteen years of age, aroused him. He waited for his chance to get her. It happened while everyone else was in the house. She had to tend the evening milking of the cow and Gilray had detailed Hog to accompany her during the chore to make sure she didn’t run away.
Hog would have gotten away with it if he’d managed to keep his hand over her mouth, but he slipped in his excitement and she let out a yell that aroused the others. Her father would have braved the guns of the outlaws to save his daughter, but his wife pleaded tearfully with him to let the men take care of the situation.
Ben was the first on the scene. What he saw sickened him. It was something he, too, had experienced in prison and his rage was no less than it had been during the assaults he’d had to endure. He drew his Colt and brought the heavy pistol down hard on the back of Hog’s head.
The attacker bellowed in painful rage and rolled off. This gave the girl a chance to gather up her clothes and run to the house, but it didn’t do Ben any good at all. Hog launched an enraged attack against the younger and smaller outlaw. Ben fought hard against the larger man, but in the end was given a bad beating that left him with one eye a bright purple and swollen shut, a broken nose, and a gash over the other eye.
Elmer Woods tried to help Ben, but only got a solid punch to the jaw and a kick in the groin for his troubles. A couple of the others pulled him out of the fracas and held on to him.
Harmon finally pushed Hog away and made him go back with the others. The gang leader looked down at Ben and slowly shook his head. “You ain’t got a lick o’ sense sometimes, Ben Cullen.”
“You all right, Ben?” Elmer asked.
“Shit, yeah. I was just whupped,” Ben said. “This ain’t the first time and won’t be the last either.” Gilray gave Elmer a shove. “Get your damn ass back to the house, pronto!”
Elmer was defiant. “You want me to stay, Ben?” Ben shook his head. “Ever’thing is fine now. I’ll see you later.”
Elmer looked him over carefully before leaving him and Gilray alone.
Ben was still unbowed despite the defeat. “He didn’t have no right—”
“Right? He had all the right in the world,” Gilray said. “A man has to take what he wants. That’s what this ol’ world is all about. The onliest thing you gotta do is be a man and back up your pards.”
“He was hurting her,” Ben said slowly, getting up. “The girl ain’t as strong as Hog. There wasn’t nothing she could do but put up with it unless somebody helped her.” He recalled the other convicts looking away while he was attacked in prison. Many times Ben thought he hated them worse than the rapists.
“It wouldn’t have been no big thing for her to let ol’ Hog have a good time,” Gilray said, disgusted. “Hell, boy, I know why it riles you so. It’s because o’ what happened to you in prison. But it ain’t the same.”
“Why not?” Ben snapped back. “It seems to me it’s the very same.”
“No it ain’t, on account o’ that’s what she’s gonna do anyhow when she gets married or has a sweetheart,” Gilray argued. “Hell, you ain’t no gal-boy that likes other men to do things to him. That’s why you fought back so hard there in Leavenworth.”
But Ben was unconvinced. “It was still wrong,” he said, wiping at his bleeding nose as he walked back to the house.
Hog Turpin didn’t seem to hold a grudge over the incident, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he had.
The gang’s next job was their last. They tried to rob a train west of Little Rock, Arkansas. Railroad detectives were present in the coaches as well as in the baggage car. Hog Turpin and the others died—so did Harmon Gilray.
The gang leader screamed his rage as he was shot from the saddle. He staggered to his feet and returned fire until the barrage from the private policemen blew away half his skull and turned his torso into ground meat.
Elmer Woods took two hits. One, not so serious, tore away a large hunk of flesh from his waist. The other hit his shoulder and went inward and down. Ben, unhurt, moved fast and got them both out of the area while the cadavers of the rest of the gang bounced grotesquely on the ground under the thunderous fusillades pumped into them.
It was lucky the railroad detectives had no horses to chase them, because Ben and Elmer had to travel slow. Elmer recovered a couple of times, but each relapse was worse than the other. Finally, on the outskirts of Fort Smith, Arkansas, he slipped from his saddle, and Ben could not help him remount.
Elmer Woods was dying.
There was absolutely no way he could survive his gunshot wounds without medical attention. Ben sat with him, giving him the only comfort he could. That was by dipping his bandanna in the creek that flowed past their resting spot and wiping at his pardner’s feverish brow.
Elmer awoke and became lucid nearly twelve long
hours after his previous collapse. He spoke faintly to Ben, weakly patting him on the arm. “Go on, pal. There ain’t nothing left to be did for me.”
Ben forced a crooked smile. “Aw, hell, Elmer. You’ll be right as rain in another day or two. Then we’ll head for the Kiowa country or go see ol’ Paco.”
Elmer slowly shook his head. “I just can’t do no more, Ben.”
“That ain’t so,” Ben said, again bathing his friend’s face.
The two lapsed into silence and Ben did some heavy thinking. There were two clear choices: abandon Elmer and get on back to the Indian Territory and safety, or take a terrible chance and try to get him to a doctor in Fort Smith.
Ben gritted his teeth and made the decision.
Late that night he helped Elmer onto his horse and took him slowly and carefully into the town. There were few people about, and Ben stopped one citizen who appeared to be returning home after a considerable amount of time in a saloon.
“Howdy,” Ben said.
The man, bleary-eyed and staggering, stopped. “Why, now a howdy to you too.” The drunk swayed as he looked at Elmer up in the saddle. “Hey. What’s a’matter with ’im, huh?”
“His horse throwed him and stomped him,” Ben said. “We need a doctor bad. Can you tell me where there’s one.”
“Sure, sure, sure,” the man said. He turned and spun completely around. “Wait a minute.” He repeated the motion, this time slowly and carefully. Then he pointed. “Straight down there is a doctor with a shingle out on his porch. Y’can’t miss it.”
“Thanks, mister,” Ben said. He grabbed the reins and gently led Elmer down the street.
The drunk had been accurate in spite of his condition. There was a house on the edge of the commercial district with a sign that advertised a medical doctor in attendance. Ben helped Elmer down and half dragged and half carried him to the porch. “This here’s a doctor, Elmer. He’ll help you.”
Elmer swallowed. “This here’s Fort Smith, ain’t it?”
“Sure is,” Ben said.
“You know who lives here? Judge Parker.”
“Isaac Parker the Hanging Judge?” Ben asked.
“Yep,” Elmer said with a note of relieved resignation in his voice. “That’s who this doc is going fix me up for.”
“Damn, Elmer!”
“Don’t worry, Ben,” Elmer said. “You done right by me. There never was a better pard.” He grinned with a grimace. “We’ll meet again in hell.”
“So long, Elmer,” Ben said. “Good luck.”
“Good luck to you, Ben Cullen.”
Ben banged on the door until he could hear some stirring inside. Then he raced to the street and mounted his horse. The young outlaw turned toward the Arkansas River and rode toward it. The sanctity of the Indian Territory was over on the far bank.
Chapter Ten
Ben Cullen’s last breakfast on the Baldwin farm was a somber affair despite Jim Baldwin’s attempt to keep the mood at a high level.
Ben knew it wouldn’t be a happy meal, so he tried to leave without bothering the family. He also could not bear the thought of awkward goodbyes. All Ben wanted was to make an unannounced departure and simply walk away before dawn. But both Lucille and Arlena had gotten up early that day to prepare a good meal and were bustling around in the kitchen. While Lucille prepared breakfast, Arlena worked on packing a lunch for Ben to take with him.
Ben had just left the barn and was walking toward the farmyard gate when Lucille saw him from the kitchen window. She ran outside and called to him, “John! John! Don’t you go yet!”
He hesitated. “It’s all right, Mrs. Baldwin. I don’t want to be no trouble.”
Arlena appeared beside her sister. “John Smith, you get right inside this kitchen. I fixed up a nice lunch for you to take along and I won’t let it go to waste.”
“O’ course.” Lucille said. “And you need a hearty meal if you’re off on a long trip, John.”
“Obliged,” Ben mumbled. He was torn between two feelings. He really wanted to get moving, but the thought of beginning the next phase of his journey on a full stomach was appealing too. So was the opportunity to spend a bit more time with Arlena.
He went inside. Jim Baldwin was already having a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. “Howdy, John. You didn’t think we’d let you get away on an empty belly, did you?”
Ben grinned. “I shoulda knowed better.” He sat down. “I really appreciate this.”
“It’s the least we coulda did after all the hard work you been doing for us,” Baldwin said.
The two men sat in awkward silence for the next ten minutes. Finally the meal was served and the ladies seated themselves. They all bowed their heads.
“Lord,” said Baldwin, “we thank you for this bounty and ask you to bless them that eats it. We also would like to ask you for an extra blessing on John here. He’s off on a long journey and we’ve growed fond of him. We’d be most obliged if you look after him. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.”
“Amen.”
No one said anything for the first few minutes of the breakfast. Until, finally, Lucille spoke up. “My! Aren’t we a gloomy bunch? C’mon, ever’body, we’re starting another wonderful day that the Lord has give us.”
“I guess we should rejoice in that,” Baldwin said. The farmer took a bite of his fried potatoes and glanced across the table. His voice had a forced cheerfulness in it. “Well, John. You have any solid plans or are you just going to drift with the wind?”
Ben’s scheme to get to Chicago via Wichita, Kansas, was still very much in effect. But he wanted to throw as much smoke across his trail as he could. “Oh, I got some serious ideas,” he said. “I guess I told you I was inter’sted in the new settlements to the south. There’s good opportunities for a feller that wants fresh country to start out in.”
Arlena, who hadn’t said a word at all since coming in from the porch, finally spoke. Her voice was low and her eyes were downcast to her plate. “A wife’d be as handy there as anywhere,” she said.
“I reckon,” Ben agreed. He’d spent a sleepless night, taking a couple of walks with the dog, as his mind worked out all that he must do if his run for freedom were to successfully continue. In addition to those perplexing and serious problems he had under consideration, there was another source of mental turmoil that kept interfering with his thought processes.
Ben Cullen was in love with Arlena.
He’d fully realized that the previous evening before he’d left the family to go out to the barn. It was the reason for his abrupt return to the house and announcement of his departure. Ben’s affections and considerations were absolutely sincere. He cared enough for the woman to put her happiness and wellbeing ahead of his own selfish desires, but the worst thing that could happen to the woman would be to find herself deeply involved with him.
Another reason for his wakeful night had been the physical evidence that he would be completely incapable of making love to Arlena. His body had ached and throbbed for her. Ben knew that any sexual intercourse would be shared experience and an expression of affection between them. All the old barriers, born in prison, were swept away with the realization. He lusted for her, but in a most tender way. Despite these carnal drives, he stifled his physical longings out of love for Arlena.
Lucille went to the stove and returned with the skillet of scrambled eggs she was keeping warm to one side of the hot grill. She spooned out another generous portion on Ben’s plate. “A traveling man has got to build up his strength, John.”
“Obliged,” Ben said. He was in bad need of a horse and firearms. It would have been so easy to have taken care of those problems in the dark of the night, but Ben could not commit any wrongdoings against this family.
“I hope you’ll let me borry these boots,” Ben said to Baldwin. “I should’ve asked, but I figgered it was all right.”
“It sure is, but you’ll keep them boots,” Jim Baldwin said. “And the clothes that was out in the barn
.”
“Arlena washed ’em, and I bundled ’em up for you,” Lucille said. “There’s even a rope sling so’s you can carry ’em on your shoulder.”
“I’ll send you money,” Ben said.
But Baldwin shook his head. “You more’n earned ’em, my friend John Smith.”
When they finished eating there was an awkward silence. Ben glanced across the table to take in one more sweet glimpse of the woman he loved. Any more delay would only increase the pain in his heart. He suddenly stood up. “I’ll take my leave now.”
They all got to their feet and went with him through the door and out onto the porch. Ben shook hands with Baldwin, then with the two women. He thrilled to the feel of Arlena on his flesh even if it was only her hand. Ben knew that the memory of her standing in the barn, her bare breasts showing in the moonlight, would be the sweetest of his life.
“So long,” Ben said. He picked up the bundle and slung it across his shoulders, after stepping down onto the ground, he began walking across the farmyard in rapid strides.
He’d reached the gate when he heard Arlena’s voice shouting.
“John! John!”
Ben stopped and looked back. The woman was running toward him from the house. As she drew nearer, he could see the tears on her face. “Yes, Arlena?”
Arlena ran up to him and stopped. She was so out of breath she could hardly speak. When she finally did, her voice was broken with sobbing. “Oh, John! What’s the matter with you?”
He ached inwardly, knowing for sure now that she loved him too. “I just got to go. That’s all, Arlena.”
“Why? Why?” she demanded tearfully.
He slowly shook his head. “I got to. It can’t be helped.”
“Don’t you want nobody to love you, John?” she asked. “Are you a-scared to have that happen? Just stop now, and let me reach out to you and take you and hold you, John. Please!”
“It just can’t be.”
“I love you, John,” she said, crying. “You got to let me want you and cherish you. Why won’t you?”
Desperado Run (An Indian Territory Western Book 2) Page 11
