“Maybe they robbed it and they’re gone,” Willis said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“No gunfire.”
“How do you know?”
“I’d be able to smell it in the air.”
As they rode down the street, they passed hotels, cantinas, a mercantile, a hardware store, a dress shop, and more small stores in new buildings.
“This is a growing town,” Willis said. “The bank would be ripe.”
“And we have to make sure it doesn’t get plucked.”
“So where to first? The sheriff?” Willis asked.
“As much as I’d like a beer first, yeah, the sheriff,” Clint said.
“Well, a beer wouldn’t be too bad,” Willis observed.
Clint looked at him, then said, “Yeah, okay, a beer first.”
THIRTY-NINE
Clint and Willis entered the cantina and ordered two beers. The place was new, with a shiny oak bar with gold trim.
“Not many towns like this in Mexico,” Clint said. “Not yet anyway.”
They looked around, saw a few men sitting at tables, nursing drinks. Then Clint’s eyes fell on one of them in particular. He nudged Willis.
“What?”
Clint jerked his chin, and Willis looked. He saw a man, a gringo sitting at a table by himself with a beer mug and a bottle of tequila.
And he had red hair.
“Jesus,” he said, “what a coincidence, huh?”
“I don’t know, Lou,” Clint said. “Let’s find out.”
They carried their beers to the man’s table and looked down at him. Eventually the man raised his head and stared back.
“What?” he said.
“Jimmy McCall?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Your kids sent me.”
“What do you know about my kids?” McCall demanded.
“I know they miss you,” Clint said, “and they need you.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Clint Adams,” Clint said. “This is Lou Willis. He’s from the town of Windspring. You remember that town?”
McCall lowered his eyes, and his head. “I—I remember.”
He was ashamed. Clint found that encouraging.
“Can we sit?”
“Sure,” McCall said. “Why not?”
Clint and Willis pulled up chairs.
“Did you really see my kids?” McCall asked.
“I did.”
“How are they?”
“Jason is doing the best he can,” Clint said. “So is Jenny. But they need you.”
“I know,” McCall said. “I’m tryin’ to get back to them.”
“By riding with Donovan?”
McCall looked at Clint.
“You pretty much know everythin’, huh?”
“I know you’re in this town to scout the bank,” Clint said. “I know the gang is camped just south of here. And I know if you leave with us now and go back to your kids, you could save yourself a lot of trouble.”
“If I try to leave, Donovan will kill me.”
“I’ll make sure you get home safely,” Clint said. “I promised that to your kids.”
“But Donovan would come there lookin’ for me,” McCall said. “My kids could get hurt.”
He had a point.
“Besides,” McCall added, “I was in Windspring, part of that job. People died. I’d have to pay for that.”
“Did you kill anyone?”
“No,” McCall said, “I just scouted the job.”
“Then I think if we could return the money, there’d be no need to turn you in.” Clint looked at the lawyer. “What about it?”
“I think I can get the mayor to agree to that,” Willis said.
“What do you say?” Clint asked.
“They’re comin’ in today,” McCall said. “Seven of ’em.”
“What are they waiting for?” Clint asked.
“I’m supposed to get the law out of the way.”
“What is the law here?” Clint asked. “How many?”
“Sheriff, two deputies.”
“Experienced?”
“The sheriff, yeah, but the two deputies look wet behind the ears.”
Clint took a moment to consider the situation.
“We can’t just ride out without warning the bank,” McCall said.
“No,” Clint said, “we have to do more than warn them. We’ll have to help them.”
“How?” Willis asked.
“We’ll talk to the law,” Clint said. “Set something up. The gang may have more men, but if we’re ready for them, that might even the odds.”
“What if the sheriff don’t believe us?” McCall asked.
“We’ll make him believe us,” Clint said. “Where’s the harm in being ready?”
“We’d better do it soon, then,” McCall said.
“You’re willing?” Clint asked.
“If it’ll get me out from underneath Donovan, yeah. Even though I’ll have to go home without the money I came for.”
Clint decided to address that problem when the time came.
FORTY
The three of them walked to the sheriff’s office, where they found the lawman seated behind a large desk. The building was new, still smelled of fresh-cut wood. The usual potbelly stove had been replaced here by a newer-looking stove, good for cooking as well as heat. There was a pot of coffee on it. No deputies in sight.
“Sheriff,” Clint said.
“Can I help you, boys?” the lawman asked.
“Nice setup you got here.” Plenty of rifles on a locked rack, clean floor even back in the cell block.
“After some of the offices I’ve worked in . . .” the lawman said with a chuckle.
“Been at it a long time, have you?” Clint asked.
“The law? More than twenty years.”
“Then you must be used to trusting your instincts.”
“I am,” the sheriff said. “And my instincts are tellin’ me now that you’re leadin’ up to somethin’.”
“My name’s Clint Adams, Sheriff,” he said, “and I have a story to tell you . . .”
* * *
To his credit, the sheriff—whose name was Latham—listened quietly, did not ask any questions until Clint was finished.
The lawman looked directly at Jimmy McCall and said, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When are they comin’ in?”
“It should be today,” McCall said.
“Minutes? Hours?”
“Hours,” Jimmy said. “They’re waitin’ for me to . . . to take care of you and your deputies.”
“Then we better get movin’,” Latham said. He stood up, grabbed his hat, and jammed it on his head. “I’ll need to find my deputies, and talk to the bank manager. Mr. Adams, you have any suggestions?”
“I think the most experienced of us should be on the outside, Sheriff,” Clint said. “We can put Willis here and your deputies inside.”
“Makes sense,” Latham said. “You think of anythin’ else, just let me know. I’m open to any other suggestions.”
“Good to know, Sheriff,” Clint said.
They followed the lawman out.
* * *
Donovan looked up at the position of the sun, then waved Carter over to where he and Rodrigo were seated.
“Get the men mounted,” he said. “Time to go in.”
“How we gonna play it?” Carter asked.
“Same as last time,” Donovan said.
“Last time we stayed in town awhile.”
“Well, this time we’re gonna ride directly up to the bank,” Donovan said. “From that point on, it’ll be the same. Except I want Booth on the outside, with the horses. We don’t need him killin’ somebody for no reason again.”
“Right.”
Carter walked over to the men, spoke briefly, and then they all started saddling their horses, happy that there was going to be some action.
“You ready?” Donovan asked Rodrigo.
“I am ready for anythin’, señor.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Donovan said. “Let’s get our horses saddled.”
“Señor,” Rodrigo asked, “you want me inside or out?”
“Inside,” Donovan said, “and if any of these idiots looks ready to kill a teller, you kill them. Got it?”
“I got it, señor.”
* * *
They managed to round up both deputies, and Latham introduced them to Clint, Willis, and McCall. He did not mention to them that McCall was formerly part of the gang. It wouldn’t have mattered, though. Both young men were thrilled to meet the Gunsmith, and that was all they were concerned with.
“You boys will be inside the bank with the guards,” Latham said, “and Mr. Willis here.”
“Aw, Sheriff,” one deputy said, “why can’t we be outside?”
“I need you boys inside to make sure the people are safe,” Latham said. “Understand? Their lives will be in your hands.”
“Okay,” one deputy said.
“Yes, sir,” the other agreed.
“All right. Let’s get into position. I’ll come inside long enough to talk to Mr. Britton, the manager.”
They headed for the bank. Clint and McCall were going to take up a position outside, soon to be joined by Latham.
“Sheriff?” Clint said as they approached the bank building.
“Yeah?”
“On their last job, some tellers got shot,” Clint said. “I think some of Donovan’s men are jumpy.”
“What are you suggestin’?”
“I think we should stop them before any of them go into the bank.”
“You might have a point,” the lawman said. “I’ll station the deputies and the guards by the windows. “When the shootin’ starts, they can join in from there.”
“Good idea.”
“Appreciate your help on this, Adams.”
“I’m just hoping we can get this done with no fatalities.”
“Except for the bank robbers.”
“Yes,” Clint said, “except for them.”
It would work to Jimmy McCall’s benefit if Donovan were to catch a bullet and be killed. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about the man coming for him, maybe even after a stint in jail.
Clint looked at McCall, figured he was thinking the same thing.
“Come in,” he said to Jimmy, “let’s get into position.”
FORTY-ONE
Donovan stopped his men just outside of town. The street ahead of them was empty.
“What’s the matter?” Carter asked.
“The street’s too empty for a town this size.”
“We are in Mexico, señor,” Rodrigo said. “Siesta.”
Donovan thought a moment, then said, “Yeah, okay,” and started forward again.
* * *
Clint saw the gang stop at the head of the street and suddenly knew why. The damn street was too empty, but the sheriff had not wanted to take a chance that any civilians would be hurt. Clint couldn’t blame him for that, but if Donovan changed his plans and the gang turned around, they’d be tracking and chasing them again.
After a few tense moments, however, the gang started forward again.
This was going to happen.
* * *
Jimmy McCall was nervous. Throwing in with Clint Adams against Donovan’s gang may not have been the smart thing to do, but it seemed the only thing to do. After all, his kids had sent Adams to find him, and to help him. But if this didn’t work, he could end up dead, and then what would happen to his kids?
But it was too late to turn back now.
* * *
Lou Willis’s heart was pounding as he stared out the window of the bank. He could see Clint across the street, as well as the sun glinting off the sheriff’s badge. He didn’t know where McCall was. Hopefully, the man wouldn’t change sides again.
Behind him the bank tellers and clerks were all quiet and nervous. That included the bank manager. But the sheriff had agreed with Clint to brace the gang outside, so there was no chance they’d get inside and put these people at risk.
The two guards at the other window were older, experienced men. The deputies were sharing a window with him, and the young men seemed as nervous as he was. He only hoped that they—and he—would acquit themselves well.
* * *
Donovan led the gang right up to the front of the bank. They remained mounted while he looked around. At the slightest hint of something not right, he would turn and ride out. But he glanced around only in passing because he was impressed by the size of the bank. This would be a bigger haul than the bank in Windspring.
He looked around at his men, and then nodded.
They began to dismount.
* * *
Clint’s last suggestion to Sheriff Latham was that they wait until the gang was in the act of dismounting. The sheriff agreed. The gang would be off balance with one foot still in the stirrup.
As the gang began their dismount, the sheriff stepped out into the open and shouted, “Hold it right there!”
* * *
Donovan froze—as Clint had hoped—with one foot still in his stirrup. He looked across the street, saw the man with the badge, then saw two other men step out into the open—and one of them was Jimmy McCall.
They’d been had!
He went for his gun and shouted, “Have at it, men!”
* * *
As the gang drew, Clint, McCall, and Latham began to fire. Two men who had remained in the saddle—probably to watch the horses—were the first to be hit. The bullets took them from their saddles and dumped them on the ground.
From behind the gang came the sound of shattering glass as the guards and deputies broke the windows and began to fire. They now had the gang in a cross fire.
* * *
Donovan knew they were done. His only hope was to try to get away. The gang’s horses were scattering, frightened by all the gunfire. He grabbed his, though, because the saddlebags held the money they’d stolen so far.
Rodrigo had the same idea. He grabbed his horse and tried to remount. The two men thought to ride out of town amid the action.
* * *
Jimmy McCall saw Donovan remount and knew what the man was going to try.
“Donovan!” he shouted, and moved farther out into the street.
* * *
Clint knew what McCall was doing. He wanted a clean shot at Donovan, but he was also opening himself up to gunfire from other members of the gang. Clint stepped out to cover the man’s back while he took his shot at Donovan. He had to kill three gang members who were drawing a bead on McCall, but Jimmy got his shot off.
* * *
Donovan felt the bullet strike him in the back, between his shoulder blades. It knocked the wind out of him, but he thought he would be able to stay in the saddle, right up until the time he felt the ground come up and strike him in the face.
Rodrigo saw Donovan fall, knew the other members of the gang were done, but he continued to ride, and was the only member of the gang to escape.
* * *
McCall scrambled and caught Donovan’s horse before the animal could run off. He led it back to the bank, where Willis and the others had come out.
“Mr. Willis,” McCall said.
Willis tur
ned.
McCall reached into one of the saddlebags and brought out a fistful of money.
“It’s all here, sir,” McCall said. “Your bank’s money.”
“Thank you, Mr. McCall,” Willis said. Then he looked at Clint. “Thank you.”
FORTY-TWO
The door to the house opened, and all four kids stepped out. Jason and Jenny each held their brother and sister, Jesse and Simon. But when the children saw their father dismounting, they all ran to him.
Clint watched as the four children inundated their father, dragging him to the ground with the force of their hugs. He dismounted himself and simply watched the family reunion.
“Are you back to stay, Pa?” Simon asked.
“I’m back to stay, squirt.”
“Really, really?” Jesse asked.
“Yes, sprite,” McCall said, “really, really.”
McCall got to his feet, put one hand on Jason’s shoulder, and the other on Jenny’s.
“Mr. Adams told me how responsible you two have been,” he said. “I’m real proud of you.”
“You’re not gonna have to go off again, Pa, are you?” Jason asked hopefully. “I mean, for a job or somethin’?”
“No, son,” McCall said. “We should be okay for a while—thanks to Mr. Adams. I think from this point on, you can go back to bein’ a kid. I’ll be the pa.”
And, Clint thought, thanks to the reward the Windspring bank had paid him. Clint and Willis had both hidden the fact that McCall was part of the gang, and Willis arranged for the reward. It was more money than the family had ever seen before, more than McCall could make in two years of working at a steady job—if he could even find one.
Jesse walked over to Clint and yanked on his arm. When he looked down, she crooked her little finger at him. He bent down.
“Thank you,” she said. She threw her little arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the cheek.
Jenny ran to Clint and also hugged and kissed him firmly.
“I’m gonna make a big welcome home supper,” she said. “Will you stay and eat with us?”
Missing Patriarch (9781101613399) Page 11
