The two men closed, cursing their loathing for one another.
Mace reined in his horse and grabbed his rifle by the barrel. He raised it above his head, planning to bring down a crunching blow on Muldoon’s skull. But Buttons ducked the blow, and for an instant Mace’s motion exposed the left side of his belly and chest. As the riders passed, Buttons triggered the scattergun. Two barrels of buckshot ripped into Mace and almost turned him inside out. Blood exploded everywhere. The fat man screeched in pain and terror, the Winchester cartwheeling away from him. Mace rode on for a few yards and then toppled out of the saddle, dead when he hit the ground.
Buttons drew rein and walked his paint to the sprawled body, a great mound of bloody flesh slowly turning the desert sand red.
“Dead, ain’t he?” Ella Rathmore said. She’d dismounted and led her horse to the obscene corpse, staring down at it.
“As he’s ever gonna be,” Buttons said, a dreadful weariness on him, sapping what remained of his strength. He looked at Ella with dull eyes. “He wasn’t much, but he was a man who needed killing.”
A silence grew between them until Ella said, “No, he wasn’t much. But he was my only hope.”
“Hope for what?” Buttons said, short and tight, not liking the woman.
“Hope for a new life in Fort Worth. Mace told me I’d wear all the nice clothes and eat nice food and live off the fat of the land.”
“He promised you that?”
“Yes, he did. And more.”
“And you believed him?”
“No, I didn’t believe him, but I wanted to believe him. I needed hope. A woman like me, a two-dollar whore and common as dirt, needs hope.”
Buttons warmed to the woman, but only slightly. Above them, a hawk suddenly dived into the brush and something small died in the waning afternoon.
“Well, everything happens for a reason.” Buttons said. “I heard that once.”
Ella’s smile was slight. “Hell, mister, I wish I knew what the hell that reason was.” Then, “Are you planning to shoot me?”
Buttons shook his head. “As a general principle, I don’t shoot women. I bet the Abe Patterson and Son Stage and Express Company has a rule about shooting women, and it’s wrote down somewhere, I’m sure.”
“You look all used up,” Ella said. Then after a while, “I wanted Mace to kill you, blow you away.”
Buttons nodded. “You didn’t want to lose all hope, such as that was, huh?”
“Yeah, something like that. You’ve spoiled everything.”
“Go bring in his horse.”
“Mace’s gold is on the horse, if you want to take it,” Ella said. “He left me to carry the grub.”
“Bring it in.” Buttons waited until the woman led the horse back to where he stood, and he found the gold in the saddlebags, divided between two burlap sacks. Buttons opened one of the bags and let a handful of small nuggets and flakes, mixed with some quartz, trickle through his fingers. “Gold. That’s the color of hope, ain’t it?”
“It’s what hope is made of,” Ella said. “But now that hope is gone, it might as well be ashes.”
“Take it,” Buttons said. “Take the gold.”
She was shocked. “What did you say?”
“I said for you to take the gold,” Buttons said. “It’s yours.” Then, after some thought, “Lady, it’s a long way to Fort Worth, and you’ll cross some mighty rough and hostile country, to say nothing of outlaws or bronco Apaches or wolf packs. This gold brought nothing but death and misery to the Rathmores, and do you know why? I’ll tell you why . . . because it’s cursed. Now, after all that, are you sure you want it?”
“I’ll take my chances,” Ella said. “What have I got to lose? My life? Without the gold I don’t have a life.”
“Then all I can say is good luck, and God help you.” Buttons pointed east. “That’s the way to Fort Worth. Now give me the hat you’re wearing. It belongs to a friend of mine.”
The woman handed over Red’s plug hat and then said, “What about him?”
“What about who?”
“Papa Mace. You just gonna leave him there?”
“The coyotes will take care of him,” Buttons said.
“No they won’t. They’ll gag on him,” Ella said. “He’ll still be lying there ten years from now.”
Buttons Muldoon watched the woman ride into the gathering dusk. He then mounted and pointed his horse back toward the Cornudas Mountains . . . and reckoned that you couldn’t put a silver dollar on any part of him that didn’t hurt.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
“You couldn’t put a silver dollar on any part of me that doesn’t hurt,” Buttons Muldoon said to Luna Talbot.
“You need to rest up, driving man.” She handed him a cup of coffee and smiled. “You’re not as young as you were when you first rode onto my ranch with a coffin on the roof of your stage.”
“When was that? A hundred years ago?” Buttons said.
Luna nodded. “About that long.”
“I can’t rest up,” Buttons said. “I got to take Red to El Paso. Anybody checked on my team?”
“I did,” Arman Broussard said. “You’ve got four left. The Rathmores ate the other two.”
“Damn, I hope it wasn’t the leaders,” Buttons said. “I need that pair.”
Broussard shrugged. “I don’t know which pair they ate.”
“Damn them Rathmores,” Buttons said.
Red Ryan was covered with a blanket up to his chin. Buttons sat down beside him, groaning from the effort. “How are you feeling, old-timer?”
Red groaned. “I reckon I’d have to be dead three days before I felt better, and that’s a natural fact.”
“I’ll get you to a doctor,” Buttons said. “He’ll fix you right up.”
“I can ride shotgun to El Paso,” Red said.
“No you can’t. You’re as weak as a two-day-old kitten,” Buttons said. “You’ll set inside with the rich folks.”
“What rich folks?” Red said.
“I don’t know. But maybe we’ll pick up a few,” Buttons said. “You heard me tell what happened to Mace, huh?”
“I heard. My Greener came in handy.” Red said.
“Both barrels of it did,” Buttons said. “Shot a sight of daylight into him.”
“What about the woman he took with him?”
“She’s headed for Fort Worth.” Buttons didn’t think it would be a good idea to mention the gold.
“Hey, you!” Leah Leighton stomped toward Buttons leading her horse, her expression furious. “What happened to my Daisy?”
“Who’s Daisy?” Buttons said.
“My mare, that’s who. This mare. She’s been shot.”
“Shot? Where?” Buttons said.
Hands on her hips, Leah said, “You mean, you didn’t notice?”
Buttons sighed and rose to his feet. “I was kinda busy, lady. Let me see this wound.”
Leah turned the horse and pointed. “Look, right there on the flank. She’s scarred for life.”
“It’s dark. I can’t see anything,” Buttons said.
“Here, use this.” Luna held a lantern high. “Yes, I see it.”
“Where?” Buttons said. Then, “Hell, it’s only a scratch.”
“Only a scratch!” Leah said. “Look how upset she is. Daisy will never be the same again.”
“Leah, she’ll be fine,” Luna said. “When we get back to the ranch, a little iodine will heal her just fine.”
“And sting like crazy.” Leah glared at Buttons. “Mr. Muldoon, you may mistreat your own horses, but you’ll never mistreat Daisy again . . . because you’ll never ride her again. So there!”
“After this, I don’t reckon I want to ride her again,” Buttons said.
Red Ryan giggled, and Crystal Casey and Daphne Loveshade, now Dumont, his self-appointed nurses, scolded Buttons for getting his guard overexcited.
“Now we’ll never get him to sleep,” Crystal said, frowning.
> Not a word of criticism was directed at Leah Leighton, who’d begun the fracas, and Buttons decided enough was enough. He fled into the darkness, found a place where the rock was softer, and lay down and went to sleep.
* * *
The womenfolk, with the exception of Leah Leighton, who was still annoyed about her wounded horse, insisted that Buttons Muldoon remain for a few days to regain his strength.
“And Red isn’t yet fit to travel,” Luna Talbot said. “He may have injuries that we can’t see.”
“You mean to his insides?” Buttons said.
“Yes. He took some powerful kicks to his body.”
Buttons reluctantly agreed and spent his time with his team, now reduced to four horses. Townes Pierce shot a deer, and that and what was left of the bacon and flour helped feed everyone reasonably well. Johnny Teague and his boys worked in the mine shaft, an increasingly dangerous undertaking since the roof was collapsing one beam at a time.
On the third day he had some bad news for Luna Talbot. “We cleared away the rock ahead of the gold vein.”
“And?” Luna said.
“It just plays out . . . and then nothing.”
“Does that mean there’s no more gold?”
“Seems like,” Teague said. “Unless there’s another vein somewhere that we don’t know about.”
“Any chance of that?” Luna said.
“I don’t know. But you could search these mountains for the rest of your life and never find one. Most prospectors never hit pay dirt.”
Luna sighed. “Well, I guess it was worth the effort.”
“Was it?” Teague said, one eyebrow lifting. “Was it worth the effort?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Luna said, “No, it wasn’t. That was silly of me. I only need to look at Red Ryan and know it wasn’t worth it.” She smiled. “There’s no gold, Mr. Teague, so what will you do now?”
“Me and the boys are heading up to El Paso,” Teague said.
“Will you go straight now? Stay on the side of the law?”
“No,” he said. “That just ain’t in our nature.”
Luna said, “If you ever need a place to hide out . . .”
Teague smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Then good luck . . . Johnny.”
“You too, rancher lady. Good luck.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The day after Johnny Teague and his men left, the roof of the mine shaft collapsed, bringing down an avalanche of rubble. When the dust cleared, it looked as though the Lucky Cuss had never existed.
That same day, Luna Talbot told Buttons Muldoon and Red Ryan that she was leaving and taking the Rathmore women and children with her. “They’re all in pretty bad health, but I’ve sent Leah Leighton ahead to meet us with wagons and food. It will be a long trek across the desert, but I think the Rathmores will make it all right.”
“What are you going to do with them?” Buttons said.
Luna smiled. “Find homes for them, I guess. When they get stronger, some of them will just leave.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Buttons said.
Luna nodded. “Thank you. I think I’ll need it. I hear Daphne wants to go with you and Red to El Paso.”
“Yeah, she does,” Buttons said. “It’s the policy of the Abe Patterson and Son Stage and Express Company not to accept nonpaying passengers. That’s a rule, and it’s wrote down somewhere. But in the girl’s case, I guess we can make the exception.”
“She still intends to be a whore,” Luna said. “Nothing I can say will change her mind.”
“Well, if that’s her chosen profession, El Paso is the place to hang out her shingle,” Buttons said. “Plenty of business to be had there with the railroads an’ all.”
“Mr. Muldoon, I hesitate to ask you this, but could you take care of her for a while till she’s settled?” Luna said. “I’ve grown quite fond of her.”
“Me and Red will see that she’s settled,” Buttons said. “Red is one for the ladies, so I’ll tell him to give her some teaching on the whoring profession. He can be a regular schoolmarm when it comes to lecturing folks.” Buttons dropped his voice to a whisper, fearing Daphne was within earshot. “Trouble is, that little gal ain’t real pretty. In fact, she ain’t pretty at all.”
Luna shrugged. “We all have our crosses to bear.”
“Ain’t that a natural fact,” Buttons said.
“Mr. Muldoon, I wish to thank you and Red for all you did for me,” Luna said. “Day and night, any time of the year, my door will always be open to both of you. I want you to know that.”
Buttons said, “Well, thank you kindly, Mrs. Talbot, and let me say just one thing. If’n you ever want a stiff delivered again . . . use a different stage line.”
Arman Broussard had decided to return to the Talbot ranch with Luna. Used to the ways of humanity, Buttons guessed at a budding romance, a notion that Broussard reinforced.
He said, “I’m giving up my wandering ways and have decided to settle down.”
Buttons grinned. “Gonna do some cowboying, huh, gambling man?”
Broussard winced, and Luna said hurriedly, “Arman will do my bookkeeping. He’s very good with figures.”
* * *
Farewells were made. Crystal Casey, who’d also decided to return to the ranch in the face of Johnny Teague’s indifference, kissed Red good-bye and wet his gaunt cheeks with her tears. In spite of the Rathmore women insisting on taking their cooking pots and their few belongings, Luna Talbot fussed over them and their children like a mother hen as she herded them south.
Buttons and Red, who was finally standing on his feet, his plug hat on his head where it belonged, watched them leave until their dust cloud settled and they were gone from sight. The arroyo was deserted
After a few years, it would look like no one had ever lived . . . or died . . . there.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Red Ryan felt better . . . if aching all over and hurting to breathe could be defined as such.
Buttons Muldoon was concerned. “Red, if you’re up to it, we’ll detour to Bill Stanton’s station and change the team.”
“I can stand it. Have you any money? The Rathmores took every cent I had.”
“Took mine as well. All the dinero Luna Talbot gave us for bringing in the stiff is gone,” Buttons said. “And Bill Stanton charges for everything. He’s a tightfisted man.”
“Think he’ll give us credit?” Red said.
“Stanton ain’t a big believer in tick. And since the Leah Leighton gal killed Charlie Brownlow in Stanton’s place, he might hold it against us.”
“Hell, we didn’t kill him.”
Buttons said, “I know, but stage station men have a heap of time on their hands and they start into thinking. Maybe Stanton is thinking what we’re thinking . . . and that is that we started the Brownlow fight. Maybe that’s what he’s thinking.”
Red groaned, both from pain and his driver’s tangled logic. He shook his head. “That didn’t make a lick of sense.”
“That’s what you think,” Buttons said.
“Wait . . . I have money.” Daphne Dumont stood watching the two men, a small, forlorn figure in a shabby dress holding a tattered yellow parasol above her head, her carpetbag at her feet. She saw the expressions on the faces of Buttons and Red close down in disbelief.
“I do too,” Daphne said. “I took it from Mr. Loveshade.”
“How much money?” Buttons smiled. “A whole dollar?”
“Twenty dollars,” the girl said. “I can loan it to you, and if you want, you can pay me back when we reach El Paso.”
“Show us,” Buttons said.
Daphne reached into her bag and came up with a gold double eagle. She held out the coin. “Do you want it?”
Red smiled. “Best you keep—”
“Yeah we want it.” Buttons grabbed the money and said, “We’ll pay you back in El Paso.”
* * *
Buttons Muldoon held
the stage door open. “Inside with you, Miss Daphne,” he said, refusing to tackle the girl’s name change. “And you too, Red.”
Red Ryan held his shotgun and wore his Colt. “I’m the guard. I’ll ride up on the box.”
“Red, you ain’t fit—”
“I’m fit enough.” Red closed the door on Daphne and said, “I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
“I’ve never been in a stagecoach before,” Daphne said. “This is exciting.”
Red grinned. “A trip with Mr. Buttons Muldoon is always exciting.”
* * *
“Buttons, what the hell happened to your team?” Bill Stanton said, his hound dog eyes puzzled.
“Hungry folks ate two of them,” Buttons Muldoon said from his perch in the driver’s seat.
“Not you and Red?”
“No, other hungry folks.”
“You got a tale to tell,” Stanton said.
“Later,” Buttons said.
Stanton looked in the stage window and saw Daphne. He was alarmed. “Here, Buttons, I don’t want no trouble.”
“What trouble?” Buttons said.
“Your female passengers keep shooting my best customers. I can’t have that. It’s bad for business.”
“She ain’t a shootist like the last one,” Buttons said. “Her name is Daphne, and she’s a learner whore. Who you got inside? No kin of the late Charlie Brownlow, I hope.”
“I got a Texas Ranger by the name of Sam Flowers,” Stanton said. “Seems like a nice enough feller, but he’ll pay me in Ranger scrip that I can never collect on.”
Red Ryan said, “It’s worth it for the goodwill. Rangers are fine men to have on your side.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Stanton said, “but it depends how much he eats, don’t it?”
“Talk about eating, what’s for supper, Bill?” Buttons said. “I’m feeling gant.”
“Got a nice pork stew,” Stanton said.
“From the same hog we had the last time we was here?” Red said.
“I salted down the meat. It’s right tasty.” Stanton looked up at him. “You look like hell. You been through it, Red?”
“You could say that, Bill.”
The Backstabbers Page 21
