“Those guys never said anything about the women,” Sam Ketchum said.
“Would you if you were in their boots?” Temple asked.
“You got any guns?” Temple asked as he patted Reese on the leg.
“I stuffed my Colt in my belt. I couldn’t work a Winchester if I wanted to.”
“Take my Remington carbine,” Pommel said as he pulled the gun from his scabbard and handed it over. “That’ll give you twelve shots when we go in.”
“We going in straight up?” Ketchum asked.
“Right down the floor of that draw. The odds are two to one but I figure they got to come into the open to get a shot at us. Several will try to run for it. We take our rifles and we gun them down before they can harm the women.”
“That’s a long play,” Temple said.
“You got a better one,” Pommel said as he loaded his Winchester to capacity and handed a handful of .44/40’s to Reese.
“I’m game,” Reese said as he dropped the cartridges into his vest pocket.
“We ain’t bullet proof,” Temple said.
“Neither are they,” Reese answered.
“What about you?” Pommel asked Sam.
“I’m with you. I always have been. It’s too late to change.”
Pommel swung into the saddle and drew up his reins. “Let’s go. We’re burning daylight.”
“Let’s go,” Reese said as he spurred forward.
Temple shook his head and mounted up. “What the hell. Beats chasing longhorns.”
At the base of the draw, Pommel dismounted, checked his revolver loads and pulled his Winchester. The others followed his lead.
“Reese, I figure you should bow out of this one. I want you to position yourself behind that boulder and shoot anyone who tries to escape or backshoot us,” Pommel said.
“Fine with me. I didn’t know if I could walk up that canyon anyhow.”
“Temple, take your time, aim your rifle carefully and shoot to kill. Don’t give up your gun for any reason.”
“You’ve done this before?” Temple asked as he levered a round into his Winchester.
Pommel winked at Ketchum. “Once or twice, huh, Sam?”
Sam smiled. “Yeah, once or twice.”
Pommel started walking. “We don’t warn them. We just start shooting and we don’t stop till they’re dead.”
“Good luck, brother,” Reese said as they started up the draw.
“Same to you. I’ll see you when it’s over.”
“When it’s over,” Reese answered quietly.
They walked together three abreast, Sam on the right, Pommel in the middle and Temple on the left, matching strides carrying their Winchesters at hip level.
“Don’t think about their bullets. It’s just like shooting rabbits. Concentrate on aligning your sights and hitting your target. Pick your targets one at a time and don’t consider another until after you’ve shot the first. Temple, you work your way in from left to right. Sam will work right to left and I will pick up the center as they offer a shot.”
“Will they come at us in a line?”
“Chances are they won’t. Most of these guys will be too busy saving their skin. But there will be a few, then we work them like we talked. If there’s a shotgun man, kill him first. If several have shotguns, head for cover and we’ll use our range advantage against them.”
Temple nodded and squeezed the lever on his Winchester. His lips were dry and his heart pounded. He hadn’t known a rush of fear like it in his life but he kept his stride and scanned the cliff walls for an ambush.
A guard called from the heights and threw off a shot. The bullet struck at the point of Pommel’s boot. He stopped, raised the long barreled Winchester, took careful aim and fired one round. The guard clutched his chest, dropped his rifle and fell back out of sight.
“One,” Sam Ketchum said as they started forward again.
Two more ran into the open from the side of the wall as if taken by surprise. Neither had a rifle.
One drew his revolver and the other turned to run. Pommel threw up his rifle and shot the revolver man through the heart before he could fire. Ketchum nailed the other in the back of his shoulders as he ran.
“Two, three,” Sam Ketchum said as they started forward again.
Valdez ran for the cover of the cabin as they entered the head of the canyon. “Temple threw off a shot which hit slightly behind Valdez’s boot.”
“A little more lead,” Pommel said as he raised the rifle and put a bullet just behind Valdez’s arm into his lungs. Valdez rolled face forward into the dirt.
“Four,” Sam Ketchum said as they started forward again.
“And Five,” Temple said as he suddenly raised his Winchester and shot a cowboy from his horse as it broke from behind the cabin.
“That leaves three for three,” Pommel said. “It’s a straight up gunfight from here on out.”
Bartello broke his horse from behind the cabin as well, with both his Colts blazing. Pommel flinched and raised his rifle. Temple felt his hat tugged from his head. Sam fired and Bartello’s horse squealed. Pommel fired and Bartello twisted sideways in his saddle dropping one of his revolvers. His horse ran by them and around the bend before another shot could be taken.
Black Tom Bent stepped from the cabin with Pac in front of him, a revolver barrel to Pac’s ear.
“Back off or I’ll kill them all,” Bent yelled as he struggled to keep Pac on his feet and his revolver under control.
Pac shut his eyes to block the light and struggled to control the pain in his head.
“Where’s the women?” Pommel yelled.
“Inside and I’ll get them all before you can get me,” Black Tom yelled.
Pac reached up and grabbed Bent’s revolver with his left hand pulling it down toward himself. “Shoot!” he yelled.
Bent’s revolver discharged into Pac’s chest and he fell away.
Sam, Temple and Pommel fired their Winchesters simultaneously, the bullets ripping into Bent’s chest.
Bent staggered back without dropping his revolver and stared in horror at Pac’s form sprawled in the dirt. “No,” he yelled. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Go to hell you sons-a-bitches!” He raised his gun and cocked the hammer.
Three more shots ripped into his chest and he dropped to his knees. Slowly he forced his revolver up again and another three shots toppled him back into the cabin wall.
“Seven,” Sam Ketchum said as they started forward again.
“Where’s the eighth?” Pommel asked as he turned around and scanned the canyon walls.
“I’m guessing he high tailed it and we missed him,” Ketchum answered.
Temple knelt and slipped his hand under Pac’s head. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” Pac said with a smile. “Is it over?”
“I think so.”
“Take care of my pinto.”
“Consider it done.”
“Tell Mom and the others that I love them.”
Tears welled in Temple’s eyes. “Consider it done.”
“Yeah, good old Temple,” Pac said as he drifted away.
Chapter XXII
I
Bartello held up his horse at the base of the draw and stepped down to see how seriously it was shot. The bullet had entered the point of the shoulder and the dun was wheezing badly. It was done for. Bartello turned away and examined the hole in his own chest. He figured he was done for too.
Reese cocked the Remington carbine and rested the barrel on the boulder in front of him. “Drop the gun, amigo.”
“Pincha Caron! El hombre muey malo!” Bartello swore as he stepped back to keep his balance.
Reese cut his eyes to Bartello’s chest wound.
“Are you going to finish me, amigo?” Bartello asked.
“No, I’ll give you time to settle up with your saints,” Reese said.
Bartello nodded and smiled as he struggled to maintain his balance. “Muchas gracias,
but my saints gave up on me years ago.” He raised his gun and threw off a shot.
Reese dropped the hammer and watched Bartello collapse into the dirt.
“I owed you the gesture,” Reese said.
Bartello nodded and died.
Reese weakly pulled the carbine off the rock and went to his horse. He tried to lift his foot into the stirrup but let it drop to the ground as he struggled to endure the pain.
“Do you need some help?” Sarah asked.
Reese turned to see his wife and daughters coming toward him.
“I guess I do,” he said as he held onto the saddle horn to keep his footing.
Sarah went to him, her lips trembling, tears in her eyes. “Thank God you’re alive.”
He threw his arm around her and held her tight. “I was thinking the same thing.”
The girls and Sarah helped him find a place to sit and covered his face with kisses.
* * *
Sam Ketchum pulled back an empty feed barrel and found Sulky cowering in the corner of the canyon wall.
“Get up from there, child,” he said.
“Don’t hurt me,” she whimpered, her dirty face streaked with tears.
“I ain’t going to hurt you. Get up from there,” Sam said as he helped her to her feet, wiped her face with his bandana, and led her to the others.
* * *
Mary wept softly as she knelt over the body of Pac.
“I’m sorry for you,” Pommel said as he stood watching her from behind.
“What difference does it make to you?” she asked bitterly without looking up.
Pommel shook his head and turned away.
“Thank you for what you’ve done,” she said reluctantly.
Pommel nodded and started for his horse.
Temple stepped to his side. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“It ain’t over.”
“Wait for me. I’ll go with you,” Temple said.
“No. Take care of them. Get them back home. I’m thinking that Reese is hurt worse than he cares to admit and your mother will need looking after until she gets Pac home.”
“Dad, I want you to wait for me before you go after the others,” Temple said.
“No, I don’t want you with me. I don’t want the law to charge us both. What I plan on doing might just put me on the run. I don’t want you there.”
“I’m asking you to wait,” Temple said with an air of finality.
Pommel stopped, took Temple’s hand to shake it and drew him close for an embrace. “You’re the finest man I’ve ever known. I want to do this for you. I don’t want you there. I’ll be back someday and we’ll have some coffee by the campfire. See to your family.”
Temple wept as he held his father close. “I wish it had been different.”
“So do I, son. So do I.”
Pommel left him there and made his way down the cut to his sorrel.
Reese smiled as Pommel stepped by him.
“I can see that you’re not lacking for attention,” Pommel said as the led his sorrel into the open.
Reese nodded. “Thanks for your help, Bob-For-Now.”
Pommel grinned. “You’re welcome. Take care of those beautiful daughters.”
“I will,” he said with a smile. “You want your carbine back?”
“No, keep it. You may need it again sometime.”
Sarah stepped to Pommel’s side. “We’ve never met formally. I’m Sarah McMurphy.”
Pommel stared into her eyes and smiled. “I couldn’t hope for a better woman for my son. You take good care of him.”
“I will.”
Pommel paused and looked up the canyon before turning back to his horse. “When you see Mary and you have a quiet moment, tell her how sorry I am for all that happened. Tell her that I said I was wrong. Wrong about Pac. Wrong about a lot of things.”
“Why don’t you tell her?”
“She wouldn’t listen to me without the past getting in the way. She might listen to you.”
Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ll tell her.”
Pommel swung into the saddle and rode away without looking back.
“He’s a strange man,” Sarah said as she watched him go.
Reese smiled. “I really don’t know. I really don’t know much about him at all except the stories.”
“You know he was here when you really needed him.”
Reese nodded. “Yeah, I know that.”
II
Pommel broke his stud into a gallop toward the open plains once he had cleared the canyon. He made for Pampa and kept the stud at a steady pace. He broke the trail of the raiders by mid-afternoon and followed them to the Quick 5 ranch house. It was abandoned. The rats were running for their holes and most of them were heading west. He figured that the crossing at Prairie Dog Creek would be the next logical place to find them. He knew the trail and figured that by cutting over Two Buttes ridge he could cut twenty miles off any riders following the trail. He figured that Colredge would take a buggy or buckboard and have to take the trail. He was too greedy to leave everything behind, especially if no posse was immediately behind him. Pommel realized he was right when he found fresh buggy rail sign following the horse tracks. They had no more than an eight-hour lead on him and if he kept his head, used the cut-off, and paced his stud, he could make up the difference before they reached the crossing.
* * *
John Fellows held up his buggy at the edge of Prairie Dog Creek and waited for Nab Colredge to step his horse into the water. “What do you think?” he asked.
Colredge circled his horse in the narrow stream to test the soundness of the creek bed. “It’s deeper than normal but you’ll cross easily. It can’t be more than two feet deep. Come on, Fellows. We’re falling way behind the others.”
Fellows nodded uneasily and urged his mare forward.
Pommel McMurphy, holding his Winchester upright, stepped his sorrel stud into the trail on the far side of the creek and waited defiantly.
Fellows stopped the buggy and stared uneasily. Colredge stepped his horse next to the buggy and placed his hands carefully on the saddle horn.
“We don’t want no trouble. We just want to ride out,” Fellows said.
“I’m afraid not,” Pommel said coldly.
“If it’s a matter of settlement, we’d be willing to pay for losses. You could make out very nicely. All we ask is to be allowed to ride out,” Colredge said.
“How do you pay for Blomberg’s life and what you did to the boys?” Pommel asked as he spurred the stud gently forward to make the crossing.
“What does it matter to you? Why is it so important now?” Fellows asked nervously.
“Are you talking to me, dead man? I know you were the one who plugged Fritz and set up Reese,” Pommel growled.
“We ain’t going for our guns,” Fellows said as he set the reins in his left hand and slowly moved his right into position for a cross draw. “You’ll be committing murder.”
“You’ll draw,” Pommel said grimly.
“You’ll never see us again,” Colredge said.
“I could never be sure,” Pommel answered as his horse closed the distance. “They’ll never be truly rid of either of you until you’re dead.”
“Son-of-a-bitch, McMurphy, we won’t draw!” Colredge cursed.
Fellows drew his Colt and snapped off a shot.
Pommel felt the bullet tear at his vest just under his armpit. He shouldered his Winchester and returned fire, the bullet tearing into the buggy seat back just behind Fellows as he jumped for cover.
Colredge drew his revolver and fired, the bullet striking the sorrel in the head.
The sorrel wheeled and collapsed on its side throwing McMurphy into the stream. McMurphy dropped his Winchester as he struggled to free his right boot from under the horse and keep his head above water.
Colredge spurred his horse forward with a rebel yell and thumbed off several shots as he charged.
As Colredge’s shots flew harmlessly into the water surrounding him, Pommel gained his footing and drew the Remington.
Fellows stepped back into the road and began firing.
Pommel felt a bullet strike his left hip bone as he put a bullet between Colredge’s eyes sending him over the back of his saddle into the stream. He turned to see Fellows taking a careful two-hand aim with his revolver. Pommel swung the Remington around and fired at the same instant as Fellows.
Fellows’ eyes widened and he lowered his revolver. Blood flowed through his white shirt just above the top button of his vest. He grabbed the front wheel of his buggy to steady himself.
Pommel felt his left side to examine where Fellows’ third bullet had struck. He examined his hand to see bright red blood covering it. He watched Fellows carefully as he waded through the stream toward the buggy.
Fellows leaned against the wheel, staring toward the ground, blood bubbling over his bottom lip.
He slowly released his grip on the short barreled Colt allowing it to drop to the ground.
Pommel stepped to the buggy mare and held her by the bit. “Why?” he asked quietly.
Fellows slowly smiled without looking up. “The money. That’s all I ever wanted from her.”
“For the money,” Pommel said shaking his head. “She deserved better.”
“From both of us,” Fellows slurred as he slid down the buggy wheel into the dirt.
Pommel pulled a buggy rein around and tied the mare to a small willow next to the road. The hip wound was beginning to cause a lot of pain and he knew he needed to take some time to examine the hole in his side. He saw a small live oak tree next to the stream that looked like a good place to get out of the sun and tend to his wound. He hobbled to the buggy and opened Fellow’s traveling bag to get some cloth. Several thousand dollars in cash were piled neatly in the case above the clothing. He drew out a white shirt and tore it into strips as he made for the tree.
Sam Ketchum rode over the ridge and drew up his mount behind the buggy. He watched Pommel limping toward the tree, blood flowing down his left side. “I tried to catch you. You must have nearly ridden that stud to death to be waiting for them here.”
Pommel turned to see Ketchum walking toward him. “I thought I told you to gather those cattle for Temple.”
“Them cattle will get gathered. The boys are taking care of that. How bad are you hurt?”
The Red River Ring Page 14
