One Man's Law

by J. R. Roberts

  “Huh?”

  “Kind of like you said before,” Ed said. “The official lawmen would never have had a hand in this, no matter how much sense it makes to do it. Hell, looking back while I’m in the middle of this, I’m starting to lose the sense of it myself.

  “But then I think about all the other options we had apart from this one.” After waiting a few seconds, Ed added, “There were no other options. Not unless we waited for someone else to get shot while Brewer stuck his nose out to steal some more cattle. Going by my law, that would have been an acceptable situation. I’ve caught plenty men by waiting for them to make some noise and then hunting them down when they’re running. That’s not your law, though, Clint.”

  “I don’t exactly get to make up my own law,” Clint said.

  “A law’s just the rules you live by. You’d be lying if you said my rules were the same as yours.”

  “That’s true.”

  “My law is to get my man while he’s still worth something. Yours is to get him before he kills anyone else. Both our laws just happen to fall in line this time,” Ed said as he nodded contentedly. “It’s good working with you when that happens.”

  “Yeah. Too bad neither of our laws falls in line with a court’s law. That could put a bad end to this partnership.”

  “Eh, that won’t happen.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Clint asked.

  “Because there’s less men there now than there were the last time we tried to go through that damn village.”

  “Then why couldn’t we get any closer than this?”

  “Because those few men are positioned real well. You see them trees up there?”

  Clint looked to where Ed was pointing and didn’t see anything. He pointed his spyglass in that direction and still had to study the trees for a while before he spotted one man sitting on one of the higher branches. “Oh yeah,” Clint whispered. “I see him now.”

  “Well, I almost didn’t when I scouted this area before. Damn near walked right in front of him like a fool.”

  “How’d you get past him?”

  Reluctantly, Ed told him, “I didn’t.”

  “How can you be certain how many men are in there?” Clint asked.

  “Patience and a keen eye, my friend. Apart from Brewer himself, there’s no more than four other men, and two of ’em are up their own trees.”

  “We’ll have to find a way to get closer. If things go wrong, I’m not about to leave Patricia all by herself.”

  “She’s not alone. Liddell’s with her.”

  Clint looked over to Ed and stared at him as if he were smelling something sour.

  “OK,” Ed said. “I see your point, but if we get too much closer, one of them fellas up high will spot us and take a shot at us. That’ll bring everyone else straight to us.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”

  “You may be here to start a fire just so you can walk through it, but I ain’t. What’s yer problem anyways? Does that lady have you wound so tight, you ain’t thinking straight?”

  “I just don’t like the thought of leaving her in there like this.”

  Ed settled in behind his spyglass and patted the rifle laying beside him. “Don’t you worry about that, my friend. When the time comes, I’ll be able to either put Brewer down or keep him too busy dodging lead to worry about no woman ... no matter how pretty she is.”

  “I don’t know,” Clint said. “That woman’s awfully pretty.”

  “There’s the Clint Adams I know.” Hearing Clint rustling beside him, Ed turned and asked, “What’re you doing now?”

  “I’m getting ready to head in there.”

  “That’s crazy talk! Didn’t we just agree to hold off until—”

  “I didn’t agree to anything,” Clint interrupted. “I came to drag Brewer back across the border and toss him into a cell, and that’s exactly what I aim to do. Can you cover me or not?”

  “I guess. Just so long as you stay in my sight.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Clint said as he took his rifle and started moving back down the hill.

  “I still say this is crazy.”

  “One man’s law is another man’s crazy talk.”

  Ed rolled his eyes, shook his head and crawled to a better spot.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Clint stayed low and moved quickly around the perimeter of the old farm. Since he knew where one of the lookouts was perched, he stayed so far from that tree that he couldn’t even see most of the buildings clustered near the barn.

  Once he had most of the property between himself and Ed, Clint slowly moved back in toward the buildings. There were plenty of bushes to use for cover, but most of them were more like spiky tangles of leafless branches. Clint lost count of how many times he’d been scratched by the branches, but he was able to stay mostly hidden until finally catching sight of the second lookout.

  The man was so skinny that he looked like just another one of the branches sprouting from the tree he’d climbed. He sat with one leg dangling from a thick branch and his head turned toward the farm. There was a Spencer rifle propped on one hip, but it was the farthest thing from the lookout’s mind.

  Clint didn’t have to be able to see the farm to guess what had captured the lookout’s attention. The man in the tree was still a man, and Patricia was still wandering around that farm somewhere. The intent stare mixed with the slack-jawed expression made Clint fairly certain he was on the right track.

  Approaching the tree slowly, Clint was able to get fairly close without making any noise. Even so, he still wasn’t sure of the best way to get the man out of that tree without letting everyone else know he was there. The more he thought about it, the fewer ideas sprang to Clint’s mind.

  Just before Clint decided to draw his pistol and shoot that damn branch, he heard some familiar voices coming from the direction of the farm. Clint looked up and carefully studied all the trees. Ed had told him there were only two lookouts up there, and his one eye was sharper than most men’s pair. Since Clint hadn’t seen anything to dispute Ed’s claim, he quickly moved to a spot somewhere between both lookouts.

  Knowing the positions of the lookouts was definitely an advantage. Clint could keep those two men in mind as he maneuvered through the bushes and settled into a spot that was close enough to look in on the farm, but embedded in enough foliage to not be seen from above.

  Brewer was the first man Clint spotted. After spending so much time tracking the man down, Clint saw Brewer’s face as if it were illuminated by a beam of light. He spotted Patricia and Liddell next. By the looks of it, Brewer was giving them a tour of the farm. Since there wasn’t much of a farm left standing, the tour was practically done by the time Clint looked in on them.

  Focusing on Patricia’s face, Clint looked for any sign that she was in trouble or had been hurt in any way. She may not have looked thrilled to be there, but she wasn’t bleeding or begging for mercy. In fact, as Clint watched her, Patricia stepped up to Brewer’s side and slipped her arm through his. When Brewer actually looked at her directly, Patricia showed him a beautiful, genuine smile.

  “Good girl,” Clint whispered to himself.

  Liddell lagged behind the other two like the fifth wheel he was. He seemed to be doing his duty as well, by glancing around and soaking up as much of his surroundings as possible. At least, that’s what Clint hoped Liddell was doing, since it was hard to see the whole farm from the bushes.

  After those three had walked out of Clint’s limited sight, he started moving to another spot where he might be able to get a look at the house Brewer seemed to call his own. Clint had just taken a few steps when he heard a faint rustle less than five paces away.

  That rustle was followed by dead silence. It was the sort of silence that hit Clint like a punch in the stomach.

  He tried to make out what could have made that noise, but all he could see was a thick tangle of branches. He wanted to move, but his boots were rooted to the spot
.

  There was another rustle, which was followed by a feeling that ran through Clint like a cold wave. Even though he knew someone was looking at him, Clint couldn’t make out anything but a shape through the tangle of branches directly in front of him. Still, he knew there was someone else right on the other side of those branches.

  Clint shifted his feet just enough to make some noise.

  “Didn’t anyone show you where the outhouse is?” a man asked from the other side of the bushes. “You take a shit in there like the rest of us, not out here were we gotta smell it all day.”

  The man pushed some of the bushes aside and asked, “Who the hell are you?”

  The last word of that question was still fresh from the man’s mouth when Clint sprung forward to grab on to him with both hands.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Clint’s fingers clamped around the front of the man’s shirt and pulled him into the bushes. While the man’s body was still being dragged through the sharp branches, Clint twisted around so he could slam the man’s shoulders onto the ground.

  When he hit the dirt, a good portion of the wind was knocked from the man’s lungs. Even so, he still managed to reach for Clint’s wrist with one hand while reaching for his gun with the other. His fingertips just barely touched the grip of his pistol before Clint’s fist pounded into his face.

  Now it was Clint’s turn to reach for the man’s gun. He took the pistol from its holster before the man could do much about it. Once he saw what was happening, however, the man reacted by grabbing Clint’s wrist and scrambling to get his legs beneath him.

  Although he’d started with the element of surprise on his side, Clint found himself at a disadvantage. The other man was steadily working to get up and also had a grip on both of Clint’s wrists. Clint could see that the initial shock of getting ambushed was wearing off because the man was starting to look up and around to where the lookouts were perched. As soon as the man opened his mouth to warn the lookouts, Clint pulled his arms in and snapped his head forward.

  Clint’s forehead slammed into the man’s face close to the bridge of his nose. While the impact was more than enough to daze the man back into silence, it was also enough to put a few color bursts into Clint’s own eyes. Trying to maneuver back into a good position while also staying low became very difficult, considering the way the ground now tilted beneath Clint’s boots.

  After shaking off the dizziness following the head butt, Clint pulled his arms in one direction as if to twist out of the man’s grasp. When he felt the man adjust his grip to compensate for the movement, Clint quickly pulled his arms in the opposite direction to use the man’s strength against him.

  Still blinking to try and clear his head, the man reflexively held on to Clint’s wrists with all the strength he could muster. Clint started to break free, but the man knew he had to hold on. He was unable to keep his grip, though, once Clint made one last attempt. The moment he felt Clint get past him, the man lashed out with a wild right-handed punch.

  That punch caught Clint in the side of the head and sent his world spinning again. Perhaps he was still numb from the head butt, but Clint shook off the punch a bit quicker and lashed out with one of his own. Unlike the other man, however, Clint didn’t aim for the head right away. He took a lesson from a few boxers that he’d known and went to work on the man’s torso.

  Clint sent three quick jabs into the man’s ribs, followed by a solid shot to the stomach. That last one took some more wind from the man’s sails and made him curl up like a dying caterpillar. When he went in for a finishing blow, Clint saw the man start to straighten up. Thanks to the way his blood was pumping through him, Clint was able to bend away as the man’s head jutted backward, narrowly missing Clint’s jaw.

  If the reverse head butt had landed, it might have knocked Clint into the next week. Since it didn’t land, it left the man wide open by stretching his back and exposing his stomach.

  Clint took advantage of the opening with a powerful punch to the man’s gut. He could feel his knuckles sink in deep. After that, Clint could feel the man’s entire body fold around him. Just to be safe, Clint snapped his elbow down onto the back of the man’s neck.

  The elbow sent the man face-first to the ground. He didn’t even budge after that.

  After he’d tossed the man’s guns away, Clint dragged him into the same spot where he’d been hiding a while ago. Clint guessed the scuffle had probably started and ended in a minute or so. When he looked toward the farm again, he somewhat expected to see Brewer and every other hired gun staring down at him with their pistols drawn. But that wasn’t the case.

  Clint could see Brewer, but the man was still walking around pointing to one rotting building or another with Patricia on his arm. The closest person Clint could see was at least twenty yards away. If not for the wind rustling through all the surrounding trees and bushes, they surely would have heard Clint’s fight. As it was, Clint’s only company was the unconscious man laying at his feet.

  Working his way back along the path he’d originally taken, Clint took a quick look at the lookouts. Both of them were still in their trees, casually watching Brewer and Patricia while occasionally glancing at the rest of the ground beneath them. By the time their eyes wandered over to the spot where Clint had been, there was nothing left to see.

  FORTY

  “So what do you think?” Brewer asked as he stood in front of the old barn, which leaned precariously to one side.

  Patricia did her best to put on a smile, but couldn’t hold it as she shrugged. “It could use some work.”

  Brewer laughed and said, “This ain’t gonna be a place to settle down and raise a family, but it’s sure good for laying low. Ain’t that right, Rand?”

  “It is, just so long as you don’t have too many men looking for you,” Liddell replied.

  Brewer leaned in and whispered loud enough so everyone could still hear him. “Rand was always fussing about the law nipping on our heels. I say they don’t know what to do when someone’s got the balls to run right back at them.”

  “Is that what you’re going to do?” Patricia asked. “Run right back?”

  “I’ll be going back as soon as I feel like it,” Brewer said while patting her hand. “Don’t you worry about a thing. Leave the worrying to Rand.”

  Liddell chuckled good-naturedly, but that quickly faded away. “Listen, Chuck, I’d really like to have a word with you.”

  “Go on and have it.”

  “I’d uhh ... really like to talk alone,” Liddell said as he glanced around and let his eyes stay on Patricia.

  Brewer waved him off and kept walking with his arm around Patricia’s shoulders. “Then save it. You had a long ride. Why don’t you get some rest, have something to eat and maybe have a few drinks. You gotta be dying after the shit they must’ve served you in Callahan.”

  “Yeah, but ...”

  “No buts,” Brewer said. “If you like, since you did come all this way, I may be able to get one of the boys to bring you a señorita from the village.”

  When he spoke again, Liddell did his best to put some strength into his voice. “First, I need to have a word.”

  Even though the nearby gunman raised an eyebrow at the way Liddell spoke to Brewer, the demand didn’t seem to have any effect on its target. Brewer kept right on walking, as if Liddell’s voice wasn’t any different than the chirping of distant birds.

  Suddenly, Brewer stopped. After letting out a heavy sigh, he turned back to face Liddell while chewing on the inside of his cheek. “What’s so damned important?”

  Liddell looked around, and this time he stared longer at the face of the new gunman standing nearby. “I don’t know any of your new gunmen, and that woman isn’t the one whose neck is on the line here.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Patricia said indignantly. “But I’ll be locked up or worse if I get caught after what I did to get you out of that prison!”

  Brewer waved a hand in her face and moved her
to one side. “All right, all right,” he said to Liddell. “Come along and say what you need to say, but make it quick. I’ve got some catching up to do with Patricia.”

  Patricia kept up the appearance of a slighted partner in crime and started to give Liddell a piece of her mind. None of that made any difference to the gunman behind her, however, as she was grabbed by one arm and pulled away from the other two men.

  “Don’t get so upset, pretty lady,” Brewer said. “You’ll get your chance soon enough.” From there, Brewer put his arm over Liddell’s shoulders and herded him in much the same way he’d been leading Patricia around the farm. After they’d gotten some space to themselves, he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

  “I just want to know what you’ve got planned,” Liddell said. Before Brewer could even answer, Liddell added, “I’m a wanted man, so if you just want me to sit and relax, I should do that somewhere else until you need me.”

  “I’ll be needing you soon enough,” Brewer said. “It’s like I already told you. I lost some good men and have hired on a few others. What I’ve been lacking is someone with experience. Now that you’re back, I can move even faster than I thought.”

  “What’s the move?”

  Leaning in a bit and dropping his voice to a rumbling snarl, Brewer replied, “As far as these new faces are concerned, we’re hitting that ranch in Texas. The truth of it is that we’re gonna be hitting two ranchers at the same time.”

  “Do you have enough men for that?”

  Brewer shook his head and grinned even wider. “There’s a sheriff who owns a good-sized herd, and he’ll be meeting up with this other rancher so they can all head up to Kansas together. This sheriff thinks he’s real smart and can keep this under his hat so no bad sorts get wind of it. He also figures he’s tough enough to scare away any rustlers along the way by flashing a badge and putting a mean look on his face.”

  “How did you find out about this?”

  “You remember Calvin Miller?”

  After a bit of thinking, Liddell nodded. “Yeah.”