Cut to the Quick

by Tony Masero

  Kirby was lost in the maze of small hills.

  He had missed Jesse’s trail when the outlaw had crossed a shelf of bare rock, the sliding shale and scrub on the opposite side successfully disguising in which direction the outlaw had gone. Kirby was backtracking after realizing he had chosen badly and taken off in the wrong direction.

  He was being cautious now. Out in the country alone and with any number of runaway outlaws fleeing every which way, he was always a possible target.

  He walked the pony slowly, searching both ground and skyline in the fading light. He was frustrated at his mistake and the time lost but he suppressed the annoyance and pressed it down, knowing full well the anger would achieve him nothing.

  Returning to his point of loss, he patiently wove backwards and forwards in a measured cone outwards from the hillock.

  He found it then. A flurry of dust gouged up by a passing horseshoe in a narrow gully. Whether it was the right trail was debatable but not many could have passed this way recently and the turned soil he was looking at was fresh. He rode on a ways and found a heap of pony droppings. Dismounting, he crumbled the round turds; they were fresh and barely dried out. He put his nose to them and could smell grain. This was his party, a grain fed, and horseshoed pony. It had to be one or other of the outlaws. Hopefully it was Jesse, if not, maybe one of the others and the tracks would lead him to the outlaw. It was his best chance of getting to Belle.

  Darkness was approaching fast, it would impossible to see further in another half hour. Kirby marked the line of passage. He would need the guidance of the first stars to keep tracking the trail in the correct direction during the oncoming night. With determination, Kirby took his line of approach and headed out. He prayed that Jesse, or whoever the rider was, would keep to the same heading, if he hooked off in another direction during the night Kirby knew he would lose them.

  His heart ached as he thought of Belle in the hands of the outlaws. He was confident she could handle herself in most situations but Jesse must be a frustrated outlaw after his recent failures because of the two Pinkerton agents and Kirby feared for her safety.

  Jesse sat down on a crate of tinned peaches and pulled the cork from a bottle of whiskey.

  ‘I’d offer,’ he said, ‘But I doubt if a lady like yourself would be sipping the strong stuff, Mrs. Slaughter. Am I right?’

  ‘I’ll pass,’ she said. ‘And please call me Belle.’

  Jesse drew a draught, nodded appreciation and studied the label. ‘Only the best,’ he said in approval.

  ‘And freely come by, no doubt,’ Belle observed wryly.

  Jesse smiled and set down the bottle on the dirt floor between his boots. ‘Where else would vagabonds like us get such quality wares?’

  They were sitting in the storeroom stacked with a variety of goods packed in boxes, some of them bearing the mark of the US War Department. The cabin was small and set apart from the others and lit by a solitary oil lamp, that hung from the cobwebbed rafters above.

  Outside, Belle could hear the sounds of noisy revelry coming from the main cabin, which was more of a combined saloon and bunkhouse for the collected bandits. They were obviously partying with abandon, relieved to have survived and escaped the ambush in Roosterville.

  ‘They having a good time out there?’ she asked.

  Jesse inclined his head with a show of tired acceptance, ‘As they will.’

  ‘So why are you in here and not with them? You want something of me?’

  ‘I wanted to ask you about Allen Pinkerton,’ he said. ‘What manner of man he is and why he has it in for me so hard.’

  Belle shrugged, ‘Your shaming him in his business, making him look a fool.’

  ‘Is that it? No more than that. We hit a few trains under his protection and he makes our downfall his sole goal in life.’

  ‘He’s a determined man. A Scottish terrier, he’ll hang on until the job’s done.’

  ‘And you, Belle? Why are you involved in this? Unusual, isn’t it? A woman as an agent.’

  Belle studied him from across the storeroom, only the glint of his eyes visible in his shadowed face.

  ‘I kind of fell into it during the war and Mister Pinkerton has no qualms about using women in his work. He does not see them as so many others do as the weaker sex.’

  ‘Well, you and your husband certainly put one over on us a time or two,’ Jesse allowed. ‘He some kind of hot pistol, is he? Mister Kirby Langstrom.’

  Belle nodded, ‘He’s a good man when it comes down to it. True to the bone, like they say.’

  ‘And you love him, do you?’

  ‘I do.’

  Jesse nodded approval. ‘Entered the same state myself this year. Though I don’t get to see my gal that often these days. Leastways not as much as I’d like.’

  ‘Congratulations. I hope you’re as happy as I am.’

  Jesse sniffed and lifted the bottle again, ‘I’ll drink to that, although folks in our line of work don’t always follow the normal pattern, do we?’

  ‘I guess not,’ she agreed, rubbing the sore spot on her brow.

  ‘You need something for that?’ Jesse asked. ‘Some liniment or something? Guess you’re going to have a dipper of a danged bruise there.’

  ‘No, I’m alright. It’ll pass I guess.’

  ‘You’re not a complainer are you, Belle? I like that.’

  ‘We chose a rough path, Jesse. Both of us. We have to suffer what comes.’

  ‘True enough,’ he said, swallowing from the bottleneck again.

  ‘You building up to something?’ Bell asked suddenly. ‘Is that why all the drinking?’

  Jesse smiled and shook his head deprecatorily, ‘No, ma’am. I ain’t a drinker I just fancy a sip or two on occasion. Normally I don’t indulge, this is a moment’s relaxation is all. No more than that.’

  ‘Still a member of Knights?’

  ‘The Golden Circle? Been a while since I heard from them.’

  ‘They dispersed now, are they?’

  Jesse twisted his lips, ‘You wouldn’t be asking me to divulge privileged information would you, Belle?’

  Belle shook her head innocently, feeling a stab of pain in her bruised skull as she did so. ‘I think they’re long gone. Kind of fell apart after the war when Xavier Bond lit out, so I believe.’

  ‘Oh, they’re still going. Just not hereabouts.’

  ‘Down in Brazil then?’

  Jesse looked at her sharply, ‘My, you are well informed, ain’t you? Yeah, they moved away, about twenty thousand Southerners all told, them that couldn’t stand the idea of sticking around in the Union. They call themselves ‘The Confederados’ down there. I guess it don’t hurt to tell it, Pinkerton ain’t got long enough arms to reach that far.’

  ‘And Bond? Did he go with them?’

  Jesse nodded, ‘Pesky fellow was forever begging me for funds. As if I didn’t have enough to contend with here without keeping his setup going in South America.’

  ‘You don’t care for him?’

  ‘I don’t like quitters. He got up and left along with the rest of them, just quit and ran. As if there was nothing left we could be doing here.’

  ‘So where did he get to exactly?’

  Jesse smiled and shrugged, ‘I ain’t got no liking for the fellow so I guess it don’t hurt to tell. They headed for a place called Vila da Santa Barbara on the Toledos River. I think all the families spread out every which way from there; they got an invite from the Brazilian king or emperor or whatever he is. Fellow wanted our skills with cotton, thought he would revive his industry if he brought in our people. I don’t think it’s working though. A lot of folks coming home so I hear tell. I don’t know where Bond is exactly. He reached me by mail. Had a fellow called Teddy Lobelia send it on, least that was the return name on the envelope, you know him?’

  Belle shook her head negatively.

  ‘Never met the beggar personal myself,’ said Jesse. ‘But he was the only connection I had with t
he Knights of the Golden Circle and I haven’t heard anything from them in years now.’

  ‘You gave all that information up mighty easy,’ frowned Belle.

  ‘Always was a sucker for a pretty face,’ Jesse chuckled. ‘’Sides I don’t give a thought to Xavier Bond these days. He was always sitting pretty in Washington playing at politician whilst the rest of us was down in the dirt getting shot at and maimed. I don’t feel any allegiance to the man now.’

  The door to the storehouse eased open slowly and a shadowy shape entered. Jesse turned his head sharply but instead of looking up at one of his men he was staring down the barrel of a Colt revolver.

  ‘Don’t you make a move,’ warned Kirby in a harsh whisper.

  ‘Mister Langstrom,’ greeted Jesse with an easy smile. ‘Come on in and join the party.’

  ‘I come for my wife,’ said Kirby, stepping into the room. ‘But maybe I’ll take you along as well.’

  ‘Kirby,’ smiled Belle. ‘Good to see you, darling.’

  He nodded in her direction but kept his eyes on Jesse. ‘Sorry honey, took me a while finding this place in the dark.’

  ‘Care for a drink, Kirby?’ Jesse offered.

  ‘Not right now but I’d appreciate it if you’d shed that sidearm.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think you’ll be taking me anywhere,’ Jesse smiled confidently. ‘There’s a whole parcel of fellows over yonder will fill you so full of holes you won’t be recognizable if I say the word.’

  ‘Not if we’re real quiet.’

  ‘Who says I’ll go quiet?’

  ‘You’d better or I’ll knock you one on the noddle so hard you won’t wake up until Washington.’

  Jesse grinned with appreciation, ‘I declare, you really are one regular son-of-a-gun, ain’t you?’

  Belle got to her feet, ‘We’d best be making a move, Kirby.’

  ‘Sit down the pair of you,’ Jesse ordered, a harder tone in his voice. ‘This ain’t over yet.’

  It was then Kirby felt the rifle barrel prod into his back.

  ‘Better drop that pistol, fella,’ said Cole Younger’s voice from behind him.

  Kirby knew they had him cold and he laid the Colt at his feet and raised his hands. The door behind him filled with the Younger brothers and Frank James.

  ‘We wondered when you’d get here,’ said Jesse. ‘Been waiting on you. It was Bob that spotted you lighting out after us. Have to say though, Kirby, you did pretty good to track us up here in the dark. You must love this woman real well.’

  ‘Get in there,’ ordered Cole, abruptly pushing Kirby forward into the room.

  ‘Got us a pair of Pinks ready for pickling now,’ observed Bob.

  ‘So we have,’ growled Cole aggressively. He was an older, gruff looking burly fellow who stood just under six feet tall and weighed in at over two hundred pounds, he was unshaven and his lined features were fixed in a permanent frown. ‘These the two been causing us so much grief?’

  ‘Afraid so,’ said Jesse.

  ‘Best we put them out of their misery then.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ teased Jesse impishly. ‘I kinda like them.’

  Jim Younger pushed forward angrily, ‘Well, I don’t. They shot down our brother John and I reckon that an eye for an eye is good advice when it comes to their sort.’

  ‘Now it wasn’t these two that did the deed,’ objected Jesse.

  ‘No matter, they’ll do.’

  Jesse shrugged and looked at Belle and Kirby apologetically, ‘Sorry to say, they do have a point. Pinkerton needs an example made. Guess it going to be end of the line now for you folks.’

  ‘Here or outside?’ asked Cole, cocking the rifle.

  As he spoke there was the sound of raised voices outside and a figure pushed his way through the crowd at the door.

  ‘Jesse! Jesse! You in there?’

  ‘I’m here, what is it?’

  ‘It’s me, John Jarette.’

  ‘John? What you doing here?’ asked Cole Younger, turning in surprise. Jarette was married to their sister Josie and although there were only tenuous blood links between the James and Youngers they were neighbors and fellow conspirators as close as any family.

  ‘I got some bad news, let me through.’

  A thin, pale-faced man with a black mustache and long dark hair hanging down over his collar was allowed entrance.

  ‘Spell it out, John,’ said Jesse.

  ‘It’s your Ma,’ said Jarette.

  Belle watched as Jesse got slowly to his feet, the color draining from his face. ‘Tell me,’ he croaked.

  ‘It’s bad, Jesse. Real bad,’ Jarette babbled excitedly. ‘They come, a whole parcel of them. Weren’t nothing anyone could do….’

  Frank stepped forward and grasped his arm tightly. ‘Slow down, John. Take it easy, tell it from the top.’

  ‘It’s so bad. Some men raided your Ma, Zerelda’s house; they must have thought you was hiding out there. We don’t know if they were Pinks or locals, it ain’t clear. Thing is they set fire to the place before they made off. Seems they come creeping up in the night and threw some flare or incendiary device in through the window. Your half brother Archie, you know, little Archie? He ain’t no more than eight year old. He surmised a piece of kindling had fell out the fire and like a good kid he quickly throws it back in without a second thought. Damn it if the blasted thing didn’t blow up right in his face and kill the boy stone dead.’

  ‘Oh, my Lord,’ sighed Jesse. ‘And Ma?’

  ‘She’s hurt, Jesse. She was sitting close by and her arm was alongside the fire and took some of the blast, it ain’t sure if they can save the limb. The doc reckons she may lose it. Man, she is poorly there’s no doubt of it’

  ‘Who were these villains?’ spat Jesse viciously. ‘I’ll have their heads for this, I swear I will.’

  The skin was stretched taut on his face so that the bone showed white on his pinched face and his blue eyes went pale and the pupils became pinpoints.

  ‘We must go there,’ he breathed feverishly, staring across at his brother. ’Frank, we gotta get back to Ma. Come on,’ he shouted, lunging for the doorway. ‘All of you, come on. We have to make it back to Clay County right now.’

  Frank began to follow when Bob Younger called out, ‘What about these two?’

  Frank looked at Kirby and Belle, his eyes focused on a different horizon. ‘I don’t know…. Leave them. We’ll sort it out later,’ he answered distractedly. ‘Right now it’s our Ma we have to attend to.’

  Suddenly Belle and Kirby were on their own. There was the sound of panicked footsteps outside, the neighing of ponies and the clink and creak of tackle. Before long it was the pounding of horses and then they stood looking at each other in a sudden and complete silence.

  Cautiously, Kirby went over to the open door and peered out. He bent down and retrieved his dropped pistol.

  ‘They’ve gone. The whole damned lot of them.’

  Belle blew out a suppressed breath, ‘Can you believe it?’

  ‘A close call alright.’

  ‘Do you think it was Pinkerton set up that raid?’

  ‘I don’t give a good goddamn who it was,’ said Kirby. ‘They saved our bacon that’s for sure and bless ‘em for that.’

  ‘Let’s go before they change their mind and come on back.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Well, that didn’t go as planned,’ said Lomas, pouring a cup of coffee for them both from the pot on the stove.

  ‘You could say,’ agreed Kirby, taking the steaming mug. ‘How’s Carl holding up?’

  Lomas shook his head, ‘Not too well. He took a mean beating.’

  ‘He going to be alright?’ asked a worried Belle.

  Lomas nodded and then shrugged, ‘I hope so. Might be he’s lost the sight in one eye.’

  ‘Aw, hell,’ sighed Kirby. ‘That’s too bad.’

  ‘Doubly so as we didn’t take down Jesse James,’ complained Lomas.

  ‘Took down a few of
them others though,’ Kirby allowed.

  ‘Sure, we’ve got Delaware Ringo and some of his cronies in the lockup. That’s something I suppose. Town’s a mess though. Lot of breakages.’

  ‘Any casualties?’

  ‘Not unless you count the Bennerheim’s, none of them made it. They plugged the old man, his wife was run down and the son got his head broke open against a water trough.’

  They were sitting in Lomas’ kitchen with the sound of repairs coming in together with the morning sunlight that poured through the open window.

  ‘I’ve been thinking on that raid on the James homestead,’ Lomas went on.

  The other two looked at him curiously.

  ‘If it was Pinkerton that set it up then Jesse will be real sore. I reckon he’ll make a play for your boss.’

  ‘You reckon so?’ asked Kirby. ‘Pinkerton’s pretty safe up in his offices in Chicago. I can’t see the James boys going for him there.’

  Lomas wrinkled his lip doubtfully, ‘I wouldn’t put it past him. Family counts for a lot with those country fellows and Jesse’s not about to forget an attack like that in a hurry. Not his Ma and little brother.’

  ‘You being a Southern boy, I guess you’d know about that.’

  Lomas nodded, ‘That’s right. He’ll go looking to get some payback, I feel sure of it.’

  ‘We don’t even know if it was Allen Pinkerton that planned it,’ Belle cut in.

  ‘Pretty damned obvious I’d say,’ said Lomas. ‘Everybody knows he’s got it bad for the James gang.’

  ‘True enough,’ agreed Kirby. ‘Maybe we should head up there and give warning.’

  ‘I’d say that was a good idea,’ Lomas agreed.

  There was a silence between them then and Lomas fidgeted, toying with the rim of his coffee cup.

  ‘Before you go, I have something to tell you both,’ he said finally, his eyes fixed on Belle.

  The repairing racket of distant noisy hammering and the echoing sound of heavy wooden planks being stacked was all that broke the silence.