“That’s not a smart thing to do.”
Ed looked like he was about to walk away, but stopped and turned back around to face Clint. “Just answer one thing for me,” Ed said.
Clint nodded.
“Why not go to one of your law dog friends to hunt this bastard down?”
Clint didn’t really have to think about that one. “Because enough lawmen have been hurt of killed on account of this asshole, and Brewer’s on the lookout to hurt some more. He’s watching for posses, but he won’t be expecting this. Besides, I don’t know a lawman in this country who would have gotten Liddell out of prison or allowed us to pull the stunt we just pulled.”
Smiling and shaking his head, Ed said, “Now I remember why I like you, Clint. You just may be the one person I know who’s crazier than me.”
THIRTY-ONE
Clint bought a horse for Liddell from a rancher a bit farther into Texas. Actually, it was only a horse by the loosest definition of the word, since Clint wasn’t about to spend top dollar for an animal that the newly freed prisoner could use just to get away from them. Liddell had complained, but he didn’t have any money to give him any real stake in the conversation. The three of them rode to Dallas and made it there in fairly good time.
The moment they arrived in Dallas, Liddell was silent. Rather than talk about all the things he wanted to do now that he was out, he could look around and see them all for himself. There were new faces, new buildings, even new signs painted on front windows to capture his attention.
Every so often, Liddell would shift his eyes from one sight to another, shake his head and say, “Damn, it’s good to be out.”
Clint smirked at Liddell’s enthusiasm for everything around him, but he sure as hell couldn’t hold it against the man. After the little time he’d spent in and around Callahan Prison, Clint was awfully glad to be in a lively place like Dallas himself.
For a switch, Ed was the calmest one of the three. To the tracker and sometime bounty hunter, Dallas was a place to do his business. There were plenty of potential targets wandering the streets, and he could practically smell the odd jobs that would need to be done every time he passed a saloon or gambling hall. Dallas was a place where men could hide, and it was a place men would flee. Either way meant money in Ed Beene’s pocket.
“Hey, Ed. Why don’t you take our friend here to a room where he can put a real bed under him?” Clint asked.
“To hell with that,” Liddell replied, suddenly finding his voice. “I ain’t had a drink or touched a woman for too long, and this is just the place for me to scratch both them itches.”
“Maybe later. You’re a wanted man, remember? It’s best for you to lay low.”
“You’re wanted men too!” Liddell pointed out.
Ed rode up alongside of Liddell and said, “So long as we ain’t got our heads wrapped up and the rest of us covered with mud, ain’t nobody gonna recognize us. I’ll bet the law’s got plenty of posters of you to put up.”
Liddell shot Ed an angry scowl, but couldn’t argue the point that had been made.
“The Cosmopolitan’s right around the corner on Main Street,” Clint said before Liddell could get too riled up. “Those rooms are so nice that you won’t want to get up for a while. Later on, we’ll see about taking you out to make up for lost time.”
“Fine,” Liddell said grudgingly. “But I want a hot bath too.”
“Shit, boy,” Ed chuckled. “After smelling you for all this time, I was gonna insist on that.”
Liddell rode ahead, and Clint lowered his voice a bit when he told Ed, “Patricia’s meeting me tonight and we’ll head out tomorrow. Just keep Liddell happy.”
“You think I should let him leave the room?”
“What do you think?”
Ed furrowed his brow and thought about it for a few seconds as he steered his horse between a brightly painted wagon and a few cowboys who still stank of their herd. Finally, Ed shrugged. “I’ve been watching our tails the whole way here, and I didn’t see one hint that we were being followed. Even if them law dogs stopped falling for the tracks I left for ’em, they still won’t know to come here right away.”
“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”
“Them assholes chased me up, down and all around that swamp,” Ed replied. “I seen the way they work and I’d bet money that they’d waste at least another couple of days trying to find us on their own before they asked for any help.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
As Clint started to ride away, Ed asked, “Where are you going?”
“Like I said, I’ve got to meet Patricia.”
“Where?”
“The St. Charles.”
“Jesus, I’d better not let Liddell hear about that.”
“Don’t let him look out his window, either,” Clint suggested. “It’s right across the street from your hotel.”
Ed muttered something under his breath that Clint didn’t need to hear. The disgusted look on the one-eyed man’s face said it all.
THIRTY-TWO
The St. Charles was one of the best known saloons in the area. It was a large building, stuffed to the rafters with card tables, gamblers, dancing girls and all the amenities that came with them. Any night of the week was a busy one in the St. Charles. Clint just happened to be lucky enough to have arrived hot on the heels of a cattle drive.
Cowboys wandered throughout the place, looking for the next place to throw their freshly earned wages. Although several women caught Clint’s eye, they were quick to move on once they spotted a younger boy waving cash in overanxious fists.
After making the rounds and finding no trace of Patricia, Clint took a seat at a poker table that also gave him a good view of the front door. He played for a few hours, won a few hands and then lost a few more. Since Patricia still hadn’t shown up, Clint kept playing until he’d managed to win a tidy little profit.
Even from across the crowded saloon, Patricia was more than enough to catch Clint’s eye. In fact, it was plain to see that she’d caught plenty of eyes, despite the fact that she was dressed in a simple dress that buttoned all the way up to her neck.
“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” Clint said as he collected his money and pushed his chair away from the table, “there’s an urgent matter I need to attend to.”
The other four men at the table were well out of their twenties, which meant they were much easier to deal with than the randy cowboys filling up the place. One of them was a well-groomed fellow wearing a black suit. He looked at Clint in shock and asked, “You’re leaving already?”
“We’ve been playing most of the night,” Clint replied. “What’s the matter? You want me to stay until I’ve won all of your money?”
The other men let out some chuckles and even prodded the man in the suit with a few good-natured jibes.
“I’d like a chance to win my money back,” the man in the suit said. “It’s common courtesy to give a man that much in a friendly game.”
Perhaps it was the beers he’d drank or the time he’d spent away from Ed and Liddell, but Clint paused before walking away. “Fine,” he said. “How much did you lose?”
“You took fifty-eight dollars from me,” the man in the suit said with a wolfish smirk.
“High card. Double or nothing?”
“Sure. Why not?”
Clint reached over to the stack of cards, pulled one out and flipped it over. It was the eight of hearts. The man in the suit tapped the deck, turned over the top card and revealed the five of spades.
“Now I took a hundred and sixteen dollars from you,” Clint said.
The man shook his head, muttered a few choice words and tossed the money onto the table.
If Clint hadn’t known the man owned controlling interest in three prosperous ranches, he might not have taken the money. As it was, Clint tipped his hat and handed a bit of money to a passing serving girl. “Next round’s on me,” he told her. To the rest of the table, he
added, “Since I’m so lucky, I think I’ll put it to the test.”
As soon as it was clear that he was headed straight over to Patricia, the rest of the men at the card table hooted and hollered their support.
“What’s all that about?” Patricia asked.
Clint gave her a kiss and led her outside. “Just making a rich man feel jealous of me for a change.”
“That sounds kind of petty,” she replied with a tired laugh.
“Maybe, but it’s also kind of fun. How was your trip?” Patricia let out a sigh and lifted her chin to feel a breeze the moment one came along. The night was just cool enough to be soothing after a hot summer day, and the air smelled like a mix of smoke from the St. Charles and burning oil from the street lamps.
“My trip was long,” she said. “It’s been so long since I’ve been on a stage that I forgot how much I rattle around in those things. There was a nun who wouldn’t talk to me, a little boy who wouldn’t stop kicking me and that boy’s father who wouldn’t stop staring at me. I’m thinking of living here just so I don’t have to take another stage back to Louisiana.”
“Maybe I can escort you back,” Clint offered. “But I can’t promise that I won’t stare at you.”
She ran the tips of her fingers along Clint’s cheek and told him, “I don’t mind if you stare.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know because you’ve told me that a hundred times.”
“It could be dangerous.”
“I know that too,” she said with exasperation creeping into her voice. “I’m starting to think you really didn’t want me to show up.”
“I’m starting to think this was a bad idea.”
She laughed, but more out of surprise than anything else. “You’re just thinking that after you break a man out of prison?”
Unfortunately, Clint didn’t have an answer for that one.
“There was one hell of a mess when I left,” she said. “Guards were tearing the whole town apart looking for that man. They already put a price on his head to try and get him back. There’s a price on your head too.”
“My name was mentioned?” Clint asked.
After letting him stew for a few seconds, Patricia said, “No. You’re just mentioned as an accomplice.”
“Has anyone else been called in to help search?”
“I don’t know. There were just men from Callahan doing the searching when I left. I was anxious to get out of there, so I didn’t even try to get too close to that mess. Isn’t that what you told me to do?”
“Yeah,” Clint said as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Thank you for coming. You did real well.”
Patricia smiled and leaned in closer against him. “For my reward, I want something to eat.”
“The good news is that I know where to get the best cooking in Dallas,” Clint said.
“What’s the bad news?”
“We’ll have to rest up and leave town as soon as we’re done eating.”
THIRTY-THREE
True to his word, Clint rounded everyone up and led them all out of town before the sun had fully risen. He bought some biscuits, bacon and coffee from the hotel and brought them along for breakfast. Patricia had stayed in her own room and only joined up with them as the others were leaving.
While riding out of Dallas, Ed tipped his hat and made no effort to keep from letting his eyes wander over Patricia’s body. Even though she was wearing jeans and a somewhat baggy shirt, she still managed to make the clothes look spectacular.
“Ed Beene,” he said with a tip of his hat. “Pleased to meet you.”
Patricia nodded and introduced herself.
Pointing to his right, Ed said, “This sack of bones riding the cheap horse is Rand Liddell.”
“We’ve met,” Patricia said coldly.
“You have?”
“Brewer made me go with him on a visit so he could parade me in front of Mr. Liddell’s cage.”
Liddell was grinning as he nodded. “I remember. That was a good visit.”
“Yes,” she said. “It was kind of like going to a zoo.”
Ed busted out laughing and Clint soon joined in.
Liddell looked back and forth between the other men and snapped, “Laugh all you want, assholes. You still owe me a drink since I never got to set foot out of my goddamn room.”
“Goddamn suite, thank you very much,” Clint said.
“It wasn’t too sweet at all being in there with that asshole,” Liddell grunted.
Ed forced himself to stop laughing just long enough to say, “The lady who brought the hot water for your bath looked nice.”
“She was a granny!”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Clint said.
As they put Dallas behind them, Clint, Ed and Patricia managed to stop laughing and fell into a relaxed silence.
Liddell, on the other hand, was still stewing. “If I ain’t happy,” he grunted, “I might just lose interest in going to Old Mex.”
Clint pulled back on the reins hard enough to make Eclipse turn his head and let out a whinny. Riding straight up to Liddell, Clint forced the prisoner’s horse to stomp its feet and skid to a halt.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Clint said without so much as a hint of the laughter that had been in his eyes only moments ago. “You’re not running this show, Liddell. You’re getting some time out of that jail cell and you’re getting a chance to set some things straight where your old partner is concerned.
“You don’t lay down any rules to me or anyone else. None of us want to hear your whining anymore. None of us give a rat’s ass whether you’re tired, hungry or bleeding out the ears. You agreed to help and that’s what you’re going to do.”
Liddell may have been trembling slightly, but he still had it in him to ask, “What if I don’t?”
“Then I shoot you right now and drag your carcass in to collect the new reward that’s been posted for it,” Clint replied without a blink.
Looking to Patricia, Liddell only saw the same mix of contempt and disgust that had been there before. When he looked to Ed, he felt the cold touch of death scrape along his spine. That feeling only got worse when he shifted his eyes back to Clint.
“All I wanted was a drink,” Liddell squeaked.
Liddell nearly jumped out of his saddle when he felt something heavy knock into his ribs. After catching the object out of pure reflex, he saw that it was a metal flask.
“There’s yer drink,” Ed said. “Now take it, shut the hell up and don’t slobber all over my flask.”
They rode for the better part of the day without saying much of anything. Even when they camped that night, it was only to build a quick fire, pass around some food and go to sleep.
Clint and Ed had agreed between themselves that they would take turns watching Liddell and guarding the camp. The man on guard kept his eyes on Liddell as much as he watched out for animals or any other danger that might come their way while sleeping under the stars.
The night passed without incident, as did most of the next day. Early the next afternoon, Clint pulled back on his reins so Eclipse would draw up close to Liddell’s horse. “We’re getting close to the Mexican border,” he said. “Where are we headed from here?”
“There’s a village not far from where Brewer holes up,” Liddell replied. “We can’t go anywhere near that place, even if we’re low on supplies. Brewer usually don’t have a lot of men with him, but he don’t need that many to keep at least one scout in a spot where most folks will pass through. That village is the spot.”
Clint looked over to Ed and got a subtle nod. So far, both of them thought Liddell was being honest with them.
“So where do we go?” Clint asked.
Liddell glanced at Clint like a dog that was afraid of getting kicked. “First I want you to swear you’ll cut me loose when Brewer’s done for.”
“That’s the deal,” Clint said.
After a bit of hesitatio
n, Liddell said, “We’ll turn south a ways from here, cross the border, head through a patch of desert and approach Brewer from the southeast. It’s the route he takes to get there, and even if he’s got some men watching it, it’s a whole lot easier to sneak in there than from anywhere else.”
“Sounds good. Lead the way.”
THIRTY-FOUR
After another hard day’s ride, they’d crossed into Old Mexico and were in sight of the stretch of desert Liddell had promised them. By now, they each had individual duties memorized when it came to setting up camp. Clint and Ed picked the spot and then got the horses situated. Liddell gathered firewood and Patricia started the cooking fire.
Since they’d ridden through all of the daylight hours, the sky was only lit by starlight when camp was made. Even so, that starlight was enough to let Clint see the worry on Patricia’s face after she’d wandered away from the campfire.
Ed remained by the fire to finish up his meal, so Clint left him with Liddell and walked after Patricia. She’d wandered to a small watering hole that wasn’t even big enough to be considered a pond. Once there, Patricia sat on the ground against a rock, tucked her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees.
“Funny how the stars still look the same even after riding for so long,” she said softly.
Clint looked up for a few seconds and then looked back down again. No matter how bright the stars were shining, they couldn’t match the sight of Patricia looking up at them. Her hair looked like another shadow in the pale light, but her skin practically glowed.
It wasn’t long before she shifted her eyes over to Clint and shook her head. “You men are all the same,” she said.
“Are we really?”
“I suppose not.”
“If you want to be alone, I could—”
“No,” she said quickly. “Don’t go.”
Clint sat down beside her and stretched out his legs. Before his heels had even settled in, Patricia was leaning against him and nuzzling her head against his chest.
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