“You think they joined up with the wagon?” Livingston asked.
“Hell, I don’t really know,” offered Huntsman. “Hell, we don’t even know if we’re following Wright and the woman or a bunch of damn Apache’s.”
“Naw, them Apache’s don’t use shoes on their ponies,” implied Livingston.
“They do when they steal them from the white men,” warned Huntsman. “And I don’t like them damn ‘Pache’s one bit.”
“Me neither,” agreed Livingston, looking around the camp nervously. “Maybe we should take turns at sleeping tonight.”
“Agreed,” said Huntsman.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
In the morning, Jess and the rest of them headed due north along the trail again. They made fairly good time even though the wagon slowed them down some. He figured they could reach Defiance by the end of the next day, providing they didn’t run into any more problems or the wagon didn’t break down. The wooden wheels were taking a beating from the old rocky trail, but Harvey at least had the sense to keep packing axle grease into the wheels. Jess was still staying back about a half-mile and Rubin stopped his horse and waited for Jess to reach him.
“I’m thinking we’ll get into Defiance tomorrow night?” Rubin asked more than said it.
“If we keep up this pace and nothing else happens, yeah.”
“You are going to be there when I explain what happened with Jethro to Walt Mercer, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there, along with Sheriff Burch.”
“Hell, he works for Mercer.”
“Maybe, but he needs to hear it, too, especially since Burch believes that’s the way things happened anyway.”
“Alright, but I’m heading out east after that.”
“You can do whatever you like after you talk to Mercer,” replied Jess. Rubin gigged his horse and headed back to the rest of them following behind the wagon.
Jess took a minute to take stock of his situation and shook his head and smiled to himself. He had started this job with only one purpose; to find Rubin Fisher and bring him to Walt Mercer to explain what had happened at Jane Lacey’s house the day that Jethro was killed. Instead, he was now partnered up with three other bounty hunters, two of which he had already shot, and Jane Lacey herself. And now, he had a pregnant woman, two small children and an old man who can’t see, can’t hear and want’s to shoot at everything he thinks he sees moving. He figured his chances of getting everybody safely to Defiance was about fifty-fifty.
***
Livingston and Huntsman had made good time after breaking camp in the morning. They stopped every few miles or so to check the tracks left by the half-dozen riders and the wagon, but they continued straight north along the old trail. Shortly after the noon hour, Livingston reined up his horse and pulled out a pair of field glasses and looked up ahead.
“I see a lot of trail dust up ahead,” explained Livingston.
“Let me see,” said Huntsman excitedly. He looked through the field glasses and smiled. “It’s gotta be a wagon kicking up that much dust.”
“That’s exactly what I think,” agreed Livingston. Huntsman handed the field glasses back.
“Let’s ride way around and get up ahead of them and find a spot to ambush them,” suggested Huntsman.
The two of them turned off the trail and rode a good two miles east before turning north again. They pushed their horses hard, letting them rest only long enough to catch their breath and fill their lungs back up. Livingston kept checking with his field glasses for the large dust cloud, making sure they didn’t turn off the trail going north.
When the two of them got a few miles ahead of where the wagon was, they rode west until they found a small hill along the trail the wagon was on. They climbed partially up the hill and dismounted, tying their horses to some scrub oak where they could feed on some sparse grass.
The two of them carefully climbed up to the top of the hill with their rifles in their hands along with the field glasses. They waited for about a half-hour when they saw a lone rider scouting the trail ahead of the wagon. Livingston looked through the field glasses and saw Wright riding along the trail with his rifle across his lap.
“That’s Wright down there,” whispered Livingston.
“What in the hell is he doing riding ahead of the wagon and the rest of them?” asked Huntsman.
“My guess is he’s scouting the trail,” said Livingston quietly.
The two of them backed away from the edge of the hill so they couldn’t be spotted. They waited until Wright had ridden up ahead and was almost out of sight. They peeked back over the hill and saw the wagon coming along the trail. Livingston peered through the field glasses again and saw an old balding man driving the team of four horses, but he couldn’t see inside the covered wagon. He looked behind the wagon and saw three riders following and he recognized Lauter and Gilpin right away.
“Lauter and Gilpin and some other man are riding behind the wagon, but I don’t see the woman, so I have to assume she’s inside the wagon,” explained Livingston. Livingston figured they had hit the jackpot and in all his excitement, he never thought to look farther back down the trail where Jess was bringing up the rear.
“Well, that wagon will pass us in another five minutes, so get ready,” exclaimed Huntsman. “Don’t worry about that old man driving the wagon and don’t shoot into the wagon ‘cause we don’t want to kill the woman if she’s in there.”
“Alright, I’ll take Gilpin and you take Lauter,” suggested Livingston. “That other man isn’t wearing any gun that I can see.” The two of them waited until the wagon passed them and when Rubin, Lauter and Gilpin were right below them, they opened fire.
Lauter grunted loudly when the bullet tore across his chest, hitting his left arm before careening off into the dirt. Gilpin was just a surprised when the bullet punched a hole through his right arm, bouncing off the bone and exiting out the back of his arm. Lauter had his rifle in his hands now, firing up at the top of the hill. Gilpin quickly handed his rifle to Rubin and told him to start shooting as the three of them moved their horses apart.
Jess heard the shooting and quickly assessed the situation. He saw both Gilpin and Lauter get hit, but they had stayed in the saddle, which was a good thing. He saw the hill where the shots were coming from and he urged Gray into a fast gallop, heading off the trail and riding toward the rear of the hill, which was about a half-mile away.
Harvey was standing in the seat and firing his rifle wildly at the sound of the gunfire on the hill. He couldn’t see the two men at the top of the hill; he simply fired at the sound of the gunfire. Lauter and Rubin were firing their rifles as fast as they could and Jess finally rounded the back of the hill and literally jumped out of the saddle and quickly ran along the base of the hill and began to climb up, his Winchester in his hands.
When he saw the two men at the top of the hill, one of them was reloading his rifle and Jess knelt down on one knee and slowly squeezed back on the trigger of his rifle and when the slug tore a hole through the man’s chest, he dropped his rifle and slid down the hill about ten feet. The other man was taken by surprise and when he turned around, a slug hit him in the back of his head and he lurched forward and fell, sliding down the hill and bumping into the other man. Jess quickly made his way up the hill and checked both men, but they were dead. He saw Wright riding fast toward the rear of the hill and Jess waited for him to climb up to the peak. Wright looked at the two men and frowned.
“These are the two gunnies I told you about running into in Burke,” explained Wright. “That one is Cal Livingston and this one is Jeffrey Huntsman.”
“So much for your Comanche skills in covering your tracks,” said Jess sarcastically. Wright gave him a hard look.
“There’s no way those two could have followed my trail after I left Burke,” defended Wright. “They must’ve assumed I lied when I told them I was heading south to Kendall and took it on a hunch to head in the opposite direction and
eventually locate our tracks.”
“Well, I’ll inform the men down there the danger is over with for the moment,” offered Jess. He turned around and waved down to Lauter.
“All clear up here!” hollered Jess, just as a bullet from Harvey’s rifle whizzed past his head. “And take that damn rifle away from that old man!” Jess quickly backed away from the edge and a few more bullets whizzed overhead before Marta reached out of the front of the wagon and wrenched the rifle away from her father.
Jess and Wright rode up to the wagon and Jane was working on Lauter’s wound and Marta was working on Gilpin’s arm. Gilpin was mumbling curse words every few seconds and Harvey was standing there watching the women work on the two men, sipping from the metal flask again. Jess dismounted and walked up to Harvey and snatched the little flask from him and took a long pull from it.
“You damn near took my head off up there old man,” complained Jess, handing the flask back to Harvey.
“That was you up on the hill shooting?” asked Harvey.
“I wasn’t shooting, I was telling everyone it was all clear,” explained an exasperated Jess.
“Hell, I couldn’t hear what was being said,” Harvey admitted. “I just started firing again after I reloaded my rifle.”
“Well, you’re not getting that rifle back until we get to Defiance,” warned Jess. Lauter looked at Jess and laughed.
“You might want to think twice about that,” said Lauter.
“And why is that?” asked Jess, walking over to Lauter as Jane finished wrapping his chest with a roll of gauze.
“Because old Harvey there is the one who plugged that second shooter,” smiled Lauter. Jess looked back at Harvey with a dumbfounded look and then back at Lauter.
“He can’t see or hear a damn thing,” argued Jess.
“I’m telling you, it was him what shot that second shooter,” pushed Lauter. “Rubin and me were both reloading our rifles when the second man up there went down. The only other one who was firing was the old man there.” Jess had an incredulous look on his face.
“What a lucky bastard,” muttered Jess, almost smiling. Harvey took another nip from his flask and grinned proudly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It was quite a sight to see when the rag-tag bunch finally rode into Defiance about an hour before dark. Sheriff Burch was in his usual spot, sitting in one of the chairs in front of the jail, chewing on yet another fat stubby cigar. Burch stood up and watched as Jess rode up to the jail, followed by Wright, Lauter, Gilpin and Rubin Fisher.
“I thought you was only bringing in Rubin,” said a surprised Burch. “Sure didn’t think you’d be partnered up with Lauter and Gilpin and whoever that is.”
“I had to partner up with them,” explained Jess, wearily climbing down out of the saddle. “It was either that or shoot them.”
“Looks like they’ve all be shot except for Rubin there,” exclaimed Burch.
“Yeah, and he’s the one who shot me and Wright,” complained Gilpin pointing at Jess with his crutch. Jess gave Gilpin a frustrated look.
“Why don’t you three go and see the doc and get patched up proper,” submitted Jess. Sheriff Burch looked up at Rubin.
“So, you agreed to come and tell Walt Mercer what really happened that day?” asked Burch.
“I didn’t have much choice in the matter,” said Rubin quickly. “Lauter and Gilpin had me digging my own grave and they were about two seconds away from putting me in it when Jess showed up and saved my ass.”
“Sounds like you had quite an interesting trip,” grinned Burch.
“You have no idea,” Jess said tiredly. The back of the wagon opened and Marta, the two kids and Jane came out. Burch saw Jane and quickly took the stubby cigar out from between his teeth.
“Well I’ll be hornswoggled if you ain’t got Ms. Lacey with you, too,” drawled Burch.
“Hell, I’d already found her before I came to see Walt Mercer that day,” offered Jess.
“Well, I suppose you’re heading out to Mercer’s place?” asked Burch. Jess looked at Jane and smiled.
“Not tonight, I need a bath, a comfortable bed and a good meal first,” implied Jess. “We’ll all go out and see Mercer tomorrow.” Marta walked over to Jess and extended her hand to him.
“Thank you so much for escorting us the rest of the way,” said Marta. “We might not have made it without you and the others.”
“Well, good luck with the business,” said Jess, looking at Harvey sitting in the wagon working on the metal flask again. “And do Harvey a favor and sell that damn rifle of his before he kills someone with it.”
“What did he say?” asked Harvey from the wagon.
“Nothing, Father,” lied Marta.
Marta and the two kids walked down to her sister’s house and Harvey drove the wagon behind the house for the night. Jess and Jane headed for the hotel and Jess checked them both in. He convinced her to stay in the room while he walked down and got some food in the café and took it back to the room.
After they ate, Jess guarded the bath house while Jane took a long hot bath and changed clothes. Once he got her back in the room, he handed her one of his cut-down shotguns and told her not to answer the door for anyone else but him. Only then did he take a hot bath himself and change into his other set of clothes. When he was done with that, he headed straight for the Crooked Cork to get a much-needed and well-deserved drink.
When he pushed through the batwings, he immediately noticed Gilpin, Lauter, Fisher and Wright sitting at a table sharing a bottle of cheap whiskey. Jess grinned at Gilpin, who had one boot on his right foot, the moccasin on his left foot and a bandage on his right arm. The rickety old crutch was leaning against the table. Jess walked over and took a seat and waved at the barkeep. He walked over with another glass and was about to pour some of the whiskey into the glass, but Jess stopped him.
“Bring two bottles of your best whiskey over,” Jess asked him. The barkeep walked away and retrieved two bottles of good whiskey and brought it back to their table. Every one of them threw the rotgut out and re-filled their glasses with the good whiskey.
“I’m glad someone has some money,” implied Gilpin, referring to the five thousand dollars Jess had promised to pay him.
“You’ll get your money tomorrow,” snapped Jess.
“The first thing I’m gonna do is buy me a new pair of boots and a new hat, too,” bragged Gilpin. Sheriff Burch walked in and over to their table, a worrisome look on his face.
“Trouble just rode into town,” said Burch.
“Walt Mercer is here?” Jess asked, standing up quickly.
“No, another bounty hunter just left my office with a copy of the wanted poster on Jane,” warned Sheriff Burch. “He said his name was Duke Harrison.” Lauter and Gilpin exchanged worried glances.
“That’s not good,” exclaimed Gilpin.
“You know Duke Harrison?” Jess asked.
“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna buy him off for five thousand, especially if he finds out Jane Lacey is sitting over there at the hotel right now,” submitted Gilpin.
“He doesn’t have to know about that,” offered Jess.
“Yeah, but he’ll figure it out real quick when he sees us sitting here,” implied Lauter.
The batwings squeaked open and a tall stocky man with broad shoulders dressed in all black clothing, a black hat and wearing a Colt Peacemaker strapped on his right leg walked in. As soon as he spotted Lauter and Gilpin sitting at the table, he stopped and gave them a curious look.
“Why are the two of you sitting here on your asses instead of looking for that Lacey woman?” asked Harrison curiously.
“We’ve both been shot by that one there,” complained Gilpin. Harrison looked at Jess and noticed all the guns he wore.
“You shot them both?” Harrison asked inquisitively.
“No, I only shot Gilpin and Wright,” answered Jess. Harrison finally recognized Wright and he grinned at him.
; “He shot you and you’re sitting there drinking whiskey with him?” asked Harrison, a little confused now.
“Yeah, seems kind of odd when you say it like that,” agreed Wright nonchalantly. “At least he’s buying.” Harrison looked at Jess again with renewed interest.
“You must be a hunter, too?” asked Harrison.
“Yep,” replied Jess.
“So, you’re looking for the woman, too?” queried Harrison.
“Not really,” said Jess.
Harrison looked around the table at the four bounty hunters and had a strange probing look on his face as he walked up to the bar and ordered a whiskey. Jess gave everyone at the table a knowing look and sat back down. Jess was just about to take another sip of his whiskey when he watched Harrison take a wanted poster out of his pocket and place it on the bar. Jess stood back up again and removed his hammer strap as a precautionary move. Harrison and the barkeep exchanged a few words and Harrison downed his whiskey in one gulp and slowly turned around at the bar and the look on his face was not a pleasant one.
“You boys forgot to mention that the Lacey woman is over at the hotel right now,” snarled Harrison.
“Well, to be honest, you never asked us that,” submitted Jess.
“Seems like this will be the easiest bounty I’ve ever collected,” warned Harrison as he started to walk toward the batwings. Jess moved a few steps over and stood in front of the doors. Harrison stopped and glared at Jess.
“You seem to be blocking my exit,” drawled Harrison.
“You can’t have the woman.”
“She’s fair game as far as I see it,” snapped Harrison.
“Not any more, we brought her in and we’re taking her to see Mercer tomorrow,” replied Jess flatly. “Besides, you’d never make it through her door. She’s got one of my cut-down double-barrels and she’ll shoot anyone who comes through that door except me.” Harrison looked over at the other men and Sheriff Burch and then back at Jess.
THE BOUNTY: Twentieth in a Series of Jess Williams Westerns (A Jess Williams Western Book 20) Page 16
