The spokesman for the cardplayers cracked the drunk across the face with the bartender’s club. When he didn’t see any blood right away, the spokesman savagely hit the drunk again. This time, the drunk hacked up blood as well as a few teeth.
Having knocked a few bottles from the shelf behind him, the barkeep bent to retrieve something else from under the bar. The weapon he chose was several steps above a piece of wood.
Wilson spotted the sawed-off shotgun in the bartender’s hands and reacted immediately. He drew his pistol and fired a quick shot at the bartender. His bullet shattered a bottle on the shelf and punched a nice hole into the wall.
Trembling from the gunshot that had just exploded a few feet in front of him, the barkeep twitched nervously between the gun in Wilson’s hand and the fresh hole in his wall.
“You got lucky with that first shot,” Wilson growled. “Don’t push it.”
Cursing under his breath, the bartender lowered the shotgun until he could set it on the bar. From there, he raised his hands and tried not to look down the barrel of the gun being aimed at his face.
“You and you,” Wilson said as he pointed to the spokesman and the cardplayer who’d drawn his pistol, “are hired.” Shifting his sights to the cardplayer who hadn’t laid a hand on the drunk, Wilson said, “You can stay here.”
“We better get our money,” the spokesman said.
Wilson grabbed the man’s hand and slapped the money into it. “There’s more to come.”
“And if there’s more blood to be spilled, we’ll expect to be paid on top of that hundred.”
“Don’t you fellows worry about that,” Wilson said as he headed for the door. “You men will have plenty of opportunities to earn a bonus like that.”
THIRTY-TWO
“I don’t like these men one bit,” Boris groaned. He and his brother rode side by side and had put the town several miles behind them.
The two cardplayers Wilson had found in the saloon rode behind the brothers and had kept to themselves. Now, the more vocal of the two chuckled and said, “Then maybe you should pay us our money and we’ll be off.”
Wilson turned in his saddle and jabbed a finger at the two dirty-faced men. “You were hired to do a job and you’re gonna do it. As for you,” he said while turning toward his brother, “just keep your whining to yourself for a change.”
“Amen to that,” the second dirty-faced man replied.
“I liked you better when you kept your fucking mouth shut,” Wilson said to that man. “You got something to say about my brother, you can keep it to yourself! Understand?”
The man went back to nodding quietly and didn’t seem to be affected by Wilson’s venomous tone.
“Hold up,” Boris said as he raised his hand above his head. “I need to get a closer look at something. Wilson, why don’t you come along with me?”
Wilson signaled for the other two to stay behind as he followed his brother a few yards down the trail. When he got to where Boris was waiting, Wilson said, “Don’t tell me you’ve started tracking.”
Leaning forward and dropping his voice to an urgent whisper, Boris asked, “What the hell did you hire them for? They look like they’ll rob us blind the first chance they get.”
“They can’t rob us because I already gave them our money.”
“You did what?”
“It don’t matter,” Wilson said. “They’ve already earned it, and there should be more than enough to pay them the rest once we get what that old man left behind.”
“And what if there ain’t no money?”
“You know there’s money. We both lived a stone’s throw from that old fool since we were born and he’s always had enough to get by. We both saw Abner getting more comfortable and we know he ain’t the type to steal. His money wasn’t in his house, so it’s got to be somewhere.”
“Maybe it’s hidden somewhere else,” Boris offered.
“We tore up every goddamn floorboard and tossed every last drawer in that house. There ain’t nothing there. Hell, nobody even lives there no more, so that money’s gotta be somewhere.”
“And you’re sure Olivia’s got it?”
Wilson narrowed his eyes to glare at his brother. “If it wasn’t Olivia McKay, you wouldn’t even be asking that question. You’re the one that was asked to mail them letters once Abner passed. Was there any letters mailed to anyone but Olivia?”
Reluctantly, Boris shook his head. “No.”
“And were we told to keep an eye on anyone else but her?”
“No.”
“That’s right,” Wilson said through gritted teeth. “We both helped that old fool through hard winters, we patched his roof, we got to watch him collect his money, and we didn’t get a damn cent of it. Anyone else might’ve thought of us as kin, but that old man treated us like we was nothing! How many times did he set the law on our tails?”
After thinking it over for a few seconds, Boris shrugged and replied, “I don’t know. Plenty of times.”
“That’s right! And that bitch Olivia gets to cheat at cards and Abner sends her more money to do it with. He owes us! He owes us, and we’re taking that old bastard’s money to make up for all the shit he threw our way all them years we lived in sight of that dirty fucking house of his!”
As his brother spoke, Boris set his jaw into a firm line and clenched his fists. “That’s right.”
“And what has Olivia ever done? She was a cock-tease when she came to visit Abner. She hit you when your back was turned. Now she cheats honest men at cards for a living. Why the hell should she get rewarded with some dead old man’s money?”
“Yeah!”
Wilson nodded as if he was singing along to his own music. “And that son of a bitch she’s riding with ain’t no better,” he said. “Just some killer who’s made a name for himself because he can pull a trigger. So what? That don’t mean he’s entitled to any of that money either, because you know Olivia’s using that to pay him.”
“Probably.”
Lowering his voice a bit, Wilson added, “If we need to hire some help, then so be it. I say that bitch is lucky we don’t ride up to her like a stiff wind and cut her open until she tells us what we want to know. She’s getting off light. Considering what her and her family’s done to us, she’s getting off real light.”
Boris nodded and slapped his brother’s shoulder. “You done good, Wilson. Sorry I doubted you.”
“Forget about it,” Wilson said merrily. “We can always shoot those two filthy drunks and take back our money anyways.”
Although the smile was still on Boris’s face and the fire was still in his belly, he couldn’t help but feel a little queasy when he watched his brother pull back on his reins so he could rejoin the two men he’d hired. Despite the fact that he’d known Wilson his entire life, Boris couldn’t tell if his brother was going to shake those drunks’ hands or shoot them in the face.
“Did you mention something about a hired gun?” the first dirty-faced man asked.
“What was that?” Wilson replied.
“Up there with your brother. Did you say something about a gunfighter?”
Wilson shook his head and grinned. “Nobody you should worry about. He shouldn’t be any problem for a man of your caliber.”
When Boris looked at his brother, Wilson was snickering at the other two’s expense.
THIRTY-THREE
The sun was low in the western sky and putting a comfortable warmth into the air. The ground was gritty but level beneath the horses’ hooves, and a slow breeze rustled through the thorny branches on either side of the trail.
Olivia slipped her wide-brimmed hat off her head so it hung by the ribbon that looped under her chin. When she looked in Clint’s direction, her eyes drifted down before coming back up to look at him.
“How’s he doing?” she asked while nodding toward Eclipse.
Clint laughed and rubbed the stallion’s neck. “He’s ready to run. In fact, I feel like I’m sittin
g on a drawn bowstring.”
“You want to stretch his legs?”
“Not if we don’t have to,” he replied. “Ross may have been a blacksmith, but he seemed to know more about horses than some professionals I’ve seen.”
“He’s a nice man,” Olivia said with assurance. “Any man who’s that good with animals has a good heart.”
“That’s awfully sweet talk coming from a professional cardsharp.”
She chuckled and flipped a few stray strands of hair from her eyes. “I don’t let any of that sweetness get to the card table. Otherwise, I’d be broke.”
Clint turned around in his saddle and surveyed the land around him. When he spotted a cluster of rocks not too far away, he steered Eclipse toward them and gave the reins a gentle flick. “Let’s make camp over there,” he said. “Those rocks should allow us to build a fire without the light carrying too far.”
“I was thinking we should keep riding,” Olivia said. “What if the Nagles are coming after us?”
“Even an experienced tracker would have gotten hung up for a while thanks to the precautions I’ve been taking. Besides, we should be able to hear anything bigger than a jackrabbit creeping up on us in this open country.”
“I guess you’re right. Still, I’d like to ride a little bit more.”
“If you don’t mind riding in the dark and risking a fall from your saddle from exhaustion,” Clint told her, “be my guest. You’ll also have to keep going alone. Eclipse has put enough wear on his bad leg.”
When Olivia looked at the Darley Arabian, there was genuine pity in her eyes. “You’re right. He looks worn out. Perhaps you should walk the rest of the way.”
“Let’s not get too eager with this pity nonsense,” Clint said with a chuckle. “It may start to tarnish your talent as a gambler.”
“I’ve only lost to you once,” she reminded him.
“Sure, but the time I lost to you was after I’d already caught you red-handed.”
She had to think that over for a second before nodding. “You’ve got a point there. Any reason why you insist on bringing that up?”
Clint chewed on that for a bit as Eclipse carried him closer to the rocks. Finally, he said, “Perhaps I’m just making sure you’re not trying to put anything over on me now.”
Olivia pulled back on her reins and waited for Clint to notice. When he did, she remained rooted in place until Clint stopped and turned Eclipse around to face her.
“You don’t trust me?” she asked.
“We’ve come a long way and blood’s already been spilled, Olivia. Men have died and there’s more lead to be set loose before this thing is done. If we’re lucky, the both of us will ride away without too many scars to show for it. You may have played for high stakes and so have I, but in a game like that you can always tell when the end is drawing near. If I’m to see this thing through, I need to be certain of who I can count on.”
“I may have been palming a card or two when we met,” Olivia said. “I may have done some things in my life that I’m not proud of before we met. But have I ever given you reason to think you couldn’t count on me?”
Clint looked her in the eye as she spoke and studied her carefully. Even the tone of her voice weighed heavily in his decision. Finally, he shook his head and said, “No, but it’s good to hear you say that.”
“What about you?” she asked as she studied him every bit as carefully. “Can I trust you to help me when there may be more trouble along the way?”
The fact that she’d asked that question so earnestly went even further in easing Clint’s mind. “I came this far,” he told her. “That means I’ve already decided on going the rest of the way.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Clint and Olivia made camp a bit earlier than they would have preferred under normal circumstances. Eclipse seemed grateful to stop for the night, and was even more grateful once the saddle was taken from his back.
Olivia built a small fire, which was barely enough to heat a kettle and warm a skillet. While she put together as much of a meal as their situation would allow, Clint took a look at Eclipse’s leg.
He wasn’t a doctor, but Clint had spent enough time around horses to have learned plenty about them. Since Eclipse’s ailment had already been diagnosed and resolved, all that remained was to make certain things kept progressing in the right direction.
“Take it easy, boy,” Clint said as he gently unwrapped the bandages from Eclipse’s leg. “Just taking a look.”
The Darley Arabian seemed more interested in the grass sprouting from the ground than in what Clint was doing. As the bandages were removed, Eclipse shifted his weight and even lifted his leg so Clint could get a closer look for himself.
“How’s it look?” Olivia asked from her spot near the fire.
Clint nodded and braced himself before placing a cautious finger over the wounded spot. When he didn’t get kicked into next week, he said, “Seems like it’s doing a lot better. It doesn’t seem to hurt him as much.”
“Good. That stallion is too pretty to be wounded. What sort of animal would do something like that to a helpless horse?”
“We know exactly what sort of animal did this,” Clint replied.
“I know. Wilson used to cut up rabbits when he was a boy.”
“You mean Boris?”
She shook her head. “Boris would catch them. He could trap them or even track them down to their holes, but Wilson was the one who would hurt them.”
“So he’s probably the one who did this to Eclipse,” Clint said as he poured some clean water over some fresh bandages and wrung them out.
“No. If it had been Wilson, I doubt Eclipse would be standing there right now.”
Clint stopped what he was doing as that notion drifted through his mind. Just the thought of someone hurting Eclipse had lit a fire in his belly. The idea of someone doing even more harm to the Darley Arabian struck a whole lot deeper. Shifting his thoughts from that dark spot, Clint wrapped the fresh bandages around Eclipse’s leg and took a look at the hoof where most of the real damage had been done.
The leg had been bruised and cut a bit when Eclipse had been having trouble walking. Some of those scrapes had undoubtedly come from when the hobbler had been stuck into place, which made it difficult for Clint to think about something other than one of the Nagle brothers hurting his horse. It did Clint some good to see that the special shoe Ross had made was holding in place.
As if reading his thoughts, Olivia asked, “How’s that foot looking?”
“Real good actually. This shoe is something to see.”
Olivia stood up and walked over to him. Once she was next to Clint, she hunkered down and leaned forward as if she was trying to read small print in dim light. After what seemed to be a few solid moments of her studying the blacksmith’s handiwork, she asked, “Is this the right shoe?”
“Yeah,” Clint said with a laugh. “See how it’s slanted a bit to take some of the weight off the spot that was wounded?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And see here how these nails were spaced differently so they wouldn’t bother the spot where Eclipse was hurt?”
“Uh-huh.”
Looking over at her, Clint asked, “Do you really see any difference between this and another horseshoe?”
Reluctantly, Olivia shrugged and said, “No.”
“Then why didn’t you say so?”
“Because I didn’t want to look foolish.”
“Oh,” Clint said as he lowered Eclipse’s leg until the stallion adjusted his weight back onto it. “You’re too late to avoid that.”
Olivia waited until Clint was on his feet and a step away from Eclipse before she smacked his shoulder with the palm of her hand. The impact made some noise, but didn’t do much more than put half a grimace on Clint’s face.
“You’re lucky that’s all you got after that,” she said.
“Really? And what else was I in store for if this wasn’t such a lucky day?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Clint raised his eyebrows in a subtle challenge and replied, “Maybe I do.”
“Don’t push your luck, Clint Adams. I’m warning you.”
“If you know as much about fighting as you do about horses, I think I like my chances.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open in exaggerated shock. Then, Olivia started to nod and circled him with her fists raised. “You want to test me? It’s your funeral.”
Clint laughed and started to walk away. He barely made it three steps before Olivia took a playful swat at his other shoulder. When he looked at her again, he saw the blatant challenge in her eyes.
“Oh, you’re feeling tough now, huh?” Clint asked.
“I’ve felt tough ever since I beat you in that first card game.”
“Really? Well, we’ll see about that.”
Clint circled her and made a few sharp half steps forward, but didn’t move his hands from his defensive stance. Olivia, on the other hand, couldn’t smile any wider as she took a few fast yet flailing swings at Clint’s arms and shoulders.
“All right,” she said as she cocked back her right fist. “Here it comes.”
Clint let her cock her fist back as much as she wanted. He was waiting for her to make a real move. The moment she sent her arm forward, he stepped in and to the side. Clint was close enough to grab her arm and wrap his other arm around her waist before she could straighten her elbow.
She looked up at him with a smile. She was breathing a bit fast after their mock scuffle, but now her chest was heaving more from the excitement of finding herself in his arms. “That was a good move,” she said.
Brushing his face against her smooth, black hair, Clint asked, “Were you really going to take a swing at me?”
“If you didn’t grab hold of me soon, I was going to knock you out cold.”
Clint cinched his arms around her and pulled her in tight against him. Olivia caught her breath and allowed her body to melt against him. When he moved his mouth closer to hers, she parted her lips in expectation of what he was about to do next.
Dying Wish Page 11
