“Course, they turn to a grayish-purple once they’re dead,” Marston said with a grin. “Strange to see their limbs kickin’ and then suddenly go stiff.” He let out a loud cackle.
Levi wanted to hang him. He already knew what a hanging looked like. He had seen plenty of them. That didn’t mean he enjoyed them. He did enjoy the fact that justice had been served, but nobody liked to see a soul leave a body. Well, most people didn’t. Marston seemed giddy by the idea.
“These boys are pretty dangerous,” Marston said. “We got enough ammunition to take them on?”
“A fight is about more than bullets,” Levi said. He looked toward the sheriff briefly. “Sometimes it’s dynamite too.”
“Dynamite?”
Levi smiled and patted the side of his saddle. “Sometimes a loud explosion is enough to bring them out with their hands up. Sometimes it’s enough to blow them to smithereens if that’s what it takes.”
“I ain’t never blowed up dynamite before,” the sheriff said.
Levi shook his head. It was time to change the subject before Marston got too excited about the idea of loud, decimating explosions. “You run an awfully poor town, Marston,” he said. “How do they pay you for your services?” It was an indirect way of asking who that little boy in the street was. Marston had mentioned something about his father owing him money.
“I don’t git much pay from keepin’ the law,” Marston answered. His yellow and gray teeth showed as he grinned at Marston. “In fact, I git more money jus’ lettin’ things be.”
Levi raised an eyebrow at this.
“Particularly from the whores,” Marston continued. “I don’t know about where yer from, but prostitution ain’t legal round here. But, if they give me a cut of their profits, I agree to look the other way.”
Levi wished he felt shocked. He wished that such information would spark such a rage in him that he would feel the need to write a letter to some high ranking official. But there would never be an investigation, much less a prosecution. The government didn’t care much about these little border towns. It would be a waste of time and money to look into the petty crimes of a small town in West Texas. Not to mention that this was one little town of many that operated in the same manner.
“So that boy you were slapping around,” Levi said. “What’s his story?”
“I felt bad hittin’ the little tyke,” Marston said, though he was still smiling. “His daddy owes me money. He lost to me in a game of poker and bet more than he had. I agreed to give him time, but his time’s up. I told him his debts would be fergiven if his wife worked in the saloon.”
“As a server?” Levi asked.
“I guess you could call it that,” Marston smirked. “She’s a mighty fine woman. She’d fetch me a good profit every night.”
Levi’s jaw clenched tightly. He had to keep himself from reaching for his pistol. Marston was dirt. No he was lower than dirt. Why anyone would elect him as sheriff made no sense unless the elections were rigged. And the more Levi thought about it, the more he supposed that was the case. There probably weren’t even elections in that crummy town. Marston probably just claimed the office and the people accepted it out of ignorance or perhaps indifference.
Levi’s stare was fixed straight ahead. The air was starting to feel a bit cooler as the sun continued on its downward path. For the next hour or so, Marston continued to talk, but Levi didn’t even give a grunt of acknowledgement. The badge on Marston’s vest obviously meant nothing to him. Levi even wondered if Marston might have killed the real sheriff and stole the badge from him.
He tried to shake away his thoughts when Amos finally declared that they would be at the meeting point soon. He told Levi that he was going to lead them in through the south along the dusty ridge so they could see the meeting point and remain out of sight. Marston was quick to point out that Amos might be leading them into a trap, fully within earshot of Amos. But Levi didn’t think so. Amos liked the idea of amnesty more than he did the idea of a failed escape. Besides, Levi wasn’t so sure Amos was confident the others would even want him back. Leading the sheriff and bounty hunter safely to the meeting point was his best bet as far as he knew.
The area was crowded with tall hills topped by flat mesas and the sun cast an orange glow as it neared the horizon. They traveled upward despite the knowledge that the meeting would be down in the valley. When they reached the top of one hill, Amos got off his horse and pointed down with a shackled hand.
“You see that cabin down there?”
It was little more than a speck on the ground from this distance, but Levi nodded.
“That’s where Nate’s supposed to meet with Tyler Montgomery,” he said.
“How long will it take to get to the cabin from here?” Levi asked.
“I’d guess about ten minutes by horse,” he said. “Twenty by foot.”
Levi nodded. He looked up at the sky and noted that there was almost a full moon, so there would be plenty of light.
“Nate will be coming in through the valley from the east,” Amos said. “Once you spot him from here, there should be plenty of time to get to the cabin before he leaves.”
“Very good,” Levi said.
“Now what?” Marston said.
“Now, we wait,” Levi answered.
For justice to be served, he thought to himself.
Nate
Summer, 1882 A.D.
Nate couldn’t shake the feeling that he and Joe were being watched as they trotted on their horses through Northrup Valley. Amos had undoubtedly told the authorities about their hideout. But if he happened to mention anything about the meeting with Tyler Montgomery then they didn’t have much time.
“Maybe they went to the hideout first,” Joe offered. “If so then we’ll have plenty of time.”
Nate reached down into his saddlebag and felt for the book for the eighth time since they started for the cabin. He knew he was more likely to lose the book by opening and closing the flap, but he just had to make sure it hadn’t fallen out. Nate had required half of the payment up front and that money was already enough for Nate and Joe to retire comfortably for the rest of their days. But the promise of doubling that fortune was worth the risk of getting caught. Unless the bounty hunter was hot on their trail, they would be fine. Nate didn’t suspect the sheriff of Penrod to be the best tracker, but if Levi Thompson was with him, time was limited. They needed to disappear.
“It’s possible we’re making this bigger in our minds,” Nate said. “Amos might not have told them anything.”
Joe sniffed. “I don’t know. You think he could keep his mouth shut? If they even mentioned the possibility of getting out of a hanging then he told them everything he knows. Which is too much. I warned you, Nathaniel.”
Just like mother, Nate thought to himself. Joe never called him Nathaniel unless he was mad or nervous. He could remember the sinking feeling he would get in his stomach when his mother called him that. It didn’t carry the same effect coming from his brother, but it let him know Joe was uneasy about the situation. Of course, he had every right to be. First off, there was no way to know that Tyler Montgomery would even hold up his end of the deal. There was always the possibility of a setup too. For all Nate knew, Montgomery was working for the government and was building a case against him. Then there was the looming possibility, though with little evidence, of someone tracking them. For all they knew, the sheriff of Penrod and Levi Thompson were waiting inside Montgomery’s cabin with their guns ready.
But Nate and Joe would be ready too. Nate carried his Winchester lever-action rifle in a sheath attached to a strap that crossed his chest and back. The strap doubled as a bandolier that carried fifty cartridges. At his waist he carried one six-shooter that rested on his side, the belt also holding fifty cartridges. Nate carried enough rounds to make it through a battle, much less a small gunfight. He hadn’t ever run out of cartridges in a single fight before but he had come close once or twice. He had consider
ed getting a second belt but decided that a single belt was enough for one man. He figured if he couldn’t at least escape using a hundred or more bullets then he deserved to be shot.
Joe was the more conservative gunslinger, carrying a single six-shooter and a belt with twenty-five cartridges. But he was better than Nate at making each shot count. Nate had seen his brother shear the neck from a bottle fifty feet away off a quick draw.
Joe told the truth when he said he warned Nate about giving the others too much information. Nate didn’t like to keep his group in the dark, but he now saw the value of it. The meeting with Montgomery should have been kept between Nate and Joe. Nate even considered the notion that he might should have kept all the information to himself. The advantage to Joe having information was that it might save him from a gruesome hanging if he was ever caught. The disadvantage came when Nate realized that Joe would never give him up anyway. He’d die before he gave up Nate to the authorities. Nate wondered if he’d do the same for Joe. Would he keep his mouth shut to save his brother? He loved him, sure, but did he love him more than himself? That was hard to say.
Nate didn’t like thinking on such matters so he changed the subject in his mind. “Once we get the rest of this money, we can get out of here and never look back.”
“Montana?” Joe asked.
“I think so.”
“You afraid the bounty hunter will follow you there?”
Nate shook his head. “Nah. Go by a different name…grow my beard out…live in the mountains. He would never find me.” He wasn’t so sure he believed his own words, but he didn’t need to show a lack of confidence right now.
“What good would your money do you in the mountains?” Joe asked with a smirk.
Nate hadn’t really thought about what he’d do with all the money that Montgomery had already paid him, and the other half that was promised. “I suppose I’d buy enough supplies to build a nice place. A really nice place. Plenty of room for a family. I don’t know.”
“You really think you could just leave this life?” Joe said. “How long you been doing this? Ten years?”
“Took this long to get as much money as I wanted.”
“Took this long to get a handsome bounty too.”
Last Nate had heard the price was $5,000 dead or alive.
“I should take my cut of Montgomery’s money and then turn you in,” Joe said. “I think I’d buy Kentucky. Lot’s of pretty land that way.”
“I don’t think I’m quite worth that much,” Nate said, laughing. “Besides, little brother, you’re worth a pretty penny too. A thousand at least. Turn me in all you want, but you won’t get money for it. You’ll get a short rope and a deep platform.”
“I have to say that doesn’t sound too appealing.”
Nate sighed. “No, it doesn’t.”
They moved ahead with the falling sun in their eyes. The cabin would soon be in view and they would finally be finished with all this mess. Joe mentioned something about trying to find Stew and Ralph, but Nate waved it off.
“If they want their cut of the money then they shouldn’t have run off and disappeared.”
But they both knew the two hadn’t run off. Somehow this book had something to do with it. Nate wondered if he’d have the ability to just drop it off with Montgomery, collect the money, and leave without asking any questions. Why was this book worth so much money to him? Why did two of Nate’s men disappear without a trace? What is this book?
Nate knew he could bite his tongue on the matter but Joe would storm in with the questions. Nate didn’t like getting involved with people’s motivations. The less he knew about why someone wanted something done and the less he had to think about what he was doing—the less he had to know about the rotten people he did jobs for. He didn’t like to think about the effects his actions might have on other people. He didn’t want to know if the people he was stealing from were innocent or if stealing from them was just. Nate wanted no personal feelings getting mixed in with his job. He had let it happen before and it was almost his undoing. Guilt was a heavy burden that could get a man killed if he wasn’t careful.
Nate had been offered several assassination jobs. He had gotten a reputation for the uncanny ability to get in, get the job done, and get out, usually before anyone noticed what had happened. It was a mark of a true criminal and a trait that was perfect for a killer. But Nate wasn’t a killer. At least, not unless he had to be. He had shed plenty of blood but only if it was necessary. Yet even the most necessary deaths couldn’t truly be justified, Nate knew. Sometimes people had to die in his line of work. The burden of guilt was heaviest upon Nate’s shoulders in those instances. That was part of the reason he wanted out. His dreams of settling down and starting a family weren’t usually on the minds of people like him, yet he caught himself daydreaming incessantly. He often thought about what life would be like if he had fallen on the other side of the law, chasing people like himself. He would have been good at it—better than most. Or perhaps even a vigilante bounty hunter who pursued murderers and cattle rustlers for coin. There would have been some honor in that. Instead, he traveled without honor, constantly on the run from the bounty hunters and men of the law. And now he wondered if it had all been worth it.
The cabin came into view when the sun was completely gone, though there was still plenty of light from the moon. It was a small structure, probably just a single room with a fireplace. He looked for any sign of life—smoke from the chimney, a dim light from a window—but there was nothing. He looked at Joe with a nervous glance.
“What if he’s not here?” Joe asked.
“Then we take what money we have and get out of here.”
A look of shock formed on Joe’s face in an instant. “Nate, where’s the money?”
“I’m not a fool, Joe. It’s in a safe place.”
“Where?”
“Buried.”
“Buried where?”
“In the ground.”
Joe cursed. “Nate, you could get shot tonight. That means I won’t ever know where that money is. You want me to leave this place with a bounty on my head and no money in my pocket?”
“Then I guess you have motivation to make sure I don’t get shot tonight.”
Joe shook his head. “I might be the one to shoot you before it’s over with.”
Nate dismounted and took a few steps forward. Joe moved to his other side with his pistol in hand.
He nodded at Nate. “Let’s do whatever we gotta do.”
Nate looked away from him and stared at the seemingly empty cabin. “Tyler Montgomery!” he shouted. His voice echoed off the canyon walls. “I’ve got something you want. It’s time to make a transaction.”
Silence.
Nate gave Joe a nervous glance. “Tyler Montgomery!”
He felt himself jump slightly when the door creaked open. Joe’s arm flew up, his pistol fixed on the shadowy figure that loomed in the doorway.
“You better get in here quick!” the man said from the doorway.
Nate and Joe looked at each other with curious glances.
“I saw men up on the ridge a couple of hours ago,” he said. “I couldn’t make them out from here, but that’s why I’ve kept it dark. I didn’t want anyone to think I was here.”
Nate’s heart started to pound a little harder. The men on the ridge could have been anyone…
“I need to see your face,” Nate said. “If you aren’t Tyler Montgomery, then I’m not coming inside.”
The man stood in the doorway for a long moment before finally stepping out into the moonlight. Joe kept a steady aim on him as he walked forward.
“That’s far enough,” Nate said when the man was only a few feet away.
It was Tyler Montgomery. His top hat was a dead giveaway from the start, but the rest of him matched Nate’s memory too. He was lean and well-dressed. His tailored suit and neatly trimmed handlebar mustache was just as Nate remembered. His long hair that came out from under his t
op hat was silver—more so in the moonlight. He was a soft-spoken man, but confident. Nate remembered that he had the ability to make you feel like a friend just by the way he talked.
“The light isn’t very good,” Montgomery said. “But am I as you remembered? It would do you well to come inside quickly. We don’t know what eyes might be upon us.”
Nate looked at Joe and nodded. “Let’s go inside.”
Montgomery turned and moved quickly toward the cabin. “Come along, come along,” he said.
Nate stepped back and stood next to his horse. He reached into the saddlebag and produced the mysterious book. He would be glad to get rid of it and head out of Texas. Once he got the money, he and Joe would get the rest of their buried treasure and make their way toward Montana. Just a few more minutes and this would all be over.
“So, you have the book?” Montgomery asked once Nate stepped inside the cabin.
“It’s too dark in here,” Joe complained. “Get a lamp. Makes it look like you’re hiding something.”
“I am hiding something,” Montgomery said. “I’m trying to hide the fact that we’re all in here.”
“Just light a lamp,” Joe said, resting his hand on his pistol.
“I don’t appreciate threats,” Montgomery said. “I’m only trying to keep us safe.”
“Let’s hurry this up,” Nate said.
Montgomery walked to the other side of the room, struck a match, and lit one of the lamps. Nate had been right about it being a one room cabin. There was a small bed in the corner, a fireplace and a table with a single chair. It didn’t seem like a place someone would live in for very long. Judging by the kind of money Montgomery possessed and the suit he was wearing, Nate knew this wasn’t his permanent residence.
Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1) Page 3
