Ball and Chain

by J. R. Roberts

  “Mose is still out there. He don’t want to see reason where Dave was concerned and now he’s got some of Dave’s friends to back him up. They’re coming to kill you tomorrow and they intend on doing a real messy job of it.”

  FORTY-ONE

  Clint knocked on the door to Ellie’s house using the side of his foot. After something rustled behind the curtains of the front window, the door was pulled open by Hank. As always, the old man didn’t look happy.

  “What the hell you doin’ here?” Hank slurred. Squinting to get a better look at the man standing beside Clint, he asked, “An’ who the hell is this?”

  Ellie walked past Clint, Acklund, and her father as if she weren’t about to take any guff from any of them. “Have you been drinking?” she asked.

  “Yeah. So what? Didn’ I see that one before?”

  “Yes, you have, Pa,” Ellie replied simply. “He’s one of the men who shot the house. Can you get some water?”

  “What? Huh?” the old man grumbled. He sputtered even more when his daughter put a bucket in his hand and pushed him toward the pump. Despite all the noise he was making, he scooted off to the pump just as he’d been asked to do.

  Clint gave Acklund a nudge, which was enough to get him moving into the house. Stepping across the threshold, Acklund let his head hang low and his feet scrape the boards as he walked.

  Acklund’s gun belt was still slung across Clint’s shoulder. During the walk to the house from the Ranger Hotel, Clint had been waiting for Acklund to try to reclaim his weapon or even make a run for an alley along the way. Either one of those moves would have made things a whole lot easier for Clint as far as dealing with the man. Since Acklund had stayed true to his word and behaved himself, Clint was stuck with the problem of what to do with him.

  Now that they were inside, Clint could see Hank’s shotgun propped against a nearby wall. He tensed his gun arm in preparation to draw once he saw Acklund’s eyes drift in that direction. But Acklund didn’t even flinch toward the weapon. More than that, he didn’t so much as glance at Clint to see if there was an opportunity for him to make a move.

  The old man shuffled back into the house and set a bucket of water down near the door. “Did you say this fella shot my house?” he asked.

  “How much have you had to drink?” Ellie asked.

  “Just enough to make me forget about losin’ my little girl.”

  Still wearing her stern expression, Ellie walked forward to give her father a hug. “I’m still here. See?”

  “Still touched in the head is what you are,” Hank snapped. “If that man shot my damn house, I ought to shoot his damn head!”

  Acklund bristled and lifted his chin. “Hey. Don’t talk to her like that.”

  “Just sit down,” Clint said as he clapped a hand on Acklund’s shoulder, “and shut up.”

  Acklund did as he was told.

  “This is one of the men that shot your house,” Clint said to Hank. “He’s also one of the men who tried to shoot me when I was on my way into town. He’s also—”

  “I love him, Pa,” Ellie cut in excitedly. “I honestly do.”

  “Yeah,” Clint said in a level tone that had none of Ellie’s excitement. “He’s that, too.”

  Hank looked back and forth between all of them as if his eyes were rattling within their sockets. His face flushed with anger that had become all too familiar to Clint and he tripped over his tongue a few times before he could get any words out. “This . . . this is crazy.”

  Without making a sound, Clint nodded.

  Ellie, on the other hand, couldn’t stop smiling. “I know how this sounds, but didn’t you always tell me I’d know it when I found the man that was right for me?”

  Grudgingly, Hank replied, “Yeah. I suppose I did.”

  “Well, Clint’s a good man but he’s not the one. Acklund is. I could feel it when I saw him and I could feel it when we . . .”

  Clint cringed, praying that Ellie wasn’t dumb enough to get into every last detail.

  “When we looked into each other’s eyes.” Ellie sighed. “I could just feel something special.”

  Clint had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes, but at least she didn’t say anything to get her father riled up again. Hank, on the other hand, didn’t try to hold back a thing.

  “That’s the sappiest bunch of horse manure I’ve ever heard,” the old man grunted. Looking at Acklund, he asked, “I suppose you’ll agree with her just to stay on her good side, huh?”

  “I agree with her because it’s true,” Acklund replied. “And I feel the same way.”

  “Fine,” Hank said. “We’ll settle this later. Is this why you all came stomping into my house to ruin a perfectly good evening?”

  “Partly,” Clint replied. “I thought you should know where your daughter was, but there’s something else.”

  “There always is,” Hank muttered with a shake of his head.

  “It might be a good idea for you to spend the night somewhere else,” Clint told him. “Actually, you might want to spend tomorrow away from here as well.”

  “Why?”

  “The men who shot up your house may be coming back.”

  Glaring at Acklund, Hank said, “I thought you said this was one of them men.”

  “I am,” Acklund declared. “But my brother will come back and he’s bringing some others to take my place. I don’t know for certain he’ll come back here, but just to be safe—”

  “Safe, hell,” Hank interrupted. “Ain’t no place really safe. What do you think, Clint? Should I go run and hide?”

  Clint needed to take a moment to get over the surprise. Not only had Hank addressed him more or less civilly, but the old man actually seemed interested in a response. Perhaps his last day in Hinterland wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

  FORTY-TWO

  Clint spent the night on the front porch of the Ranger Hotel. It was wedged in between several other shops and businesses and had a good view of Hinterland’s Main Street. Clint could see folks coming and going fairly well and the only way to get into the hotel from the back was past a gate that was squeaky enough to wake the dead. Acklund swore up and down that he hadn’t mentioned the hotel to his brother, so there wasn’t any good reason for Mose or the other two to go there.

  It felt peculiar for Clint to put any trust whatsoever into anything Acklund told him. Only a few days ago, the two men were shooting at each other. Now Acklund barely seemed capable of harming a fly. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  Stepping outside as if he sensed the storm brewing in Clint’s head, Hank pulled up a rocker and sat down next to him. “Thought I was the only one to get up so early,” he muttered.

  Clint looked up at a sky that was a dull orange color with streaks of bright yellow coming in from the east “It’s not that early,” he said.

  “You should tell that to them two kids.”

  Smirking, Clint replied, “I don’t think they’re sleeping.”

  Hank gritted his teeth and shifted in his rocker. “No need to be so matter-of-fact about it.”

  “I’m surprised you let them stay within twenty yards of each other.”

  “Especially after what I put you through?” Hank asked.

  “Something like that.”

  The old man grunted and finally found a comfortable spot in his chair. “The tighter I cinch in the reins on that girl, the more she’ll buck. Tell you the truth, I don’t feel right about what I did to you. There just weren’t a good way out of it.”

  “You could have just let me go,” Clint pointed out.

  “Sure, but that’d mean I was wrong.”

  Hank kept his stern expression on his face for a good couple of seconds. In that time, Clint actually thought the old man was trying to make a point. When Hank finally broke into a chuckle, he slapped Clint on the back and told him, “I wasn’t gonna hurt ya. Once Mike got to town, I was gonna turn you loose and watch you run the hell away from here.”
/>   “Let me guess. Not a lot of fellows come sniffing around Ellie’s door?”

  “Too many. That’s why I gotta put my foot down.” Leaning back to look at the hotel, Hank shook his head. “Seein’ you and her like I did . . . I suppose it ruffled my feathers the wrong way.”

  Clint nodded. “I have a pretty good idea of how you feel.” Hank surprised him again by tapping him with the back of his hand. When Clint looked down he saw that the hand was open and waiting to be shaken.

  “No hard feelin’s?” Hank asked.

  Clint shook the old man’s hand. “Ellie’s a good woman. It’s nice to know she’s got someone looking out for her. Just try to go easy on Acklund. Something tells me he means the things he says.”

  “Yeah, I know. I seen too many boys lookin’ at my Ellie the wrong way. I recognize when there’s somethin’ right in their eyes. I jus’ don’t know about the boy’s family.”

  “Yeah,” Clint said. “Hopefully, we’ll put that matter to rest soon enough. Speaking of which, I should find another spot to watch the street before I bring them right to you.”

  Hank waved at the street as if he were dismissing Mose, Dave’s friends, and any other gunmen that might have their sights set on him. “Eh, those boys couldn’t find their own asses with a funnel. If they could, they would’a been here by now.”

  “They can find their guns,” Clint pointed out. “That’s enough to make them dangerous.”

  “I put you through enough hell already. The only reason you’re still here is because I hog-tied you and shoved a shotgun in your face. If not for that, you would’ve been gone and probably lost them gunslinging idiots along the way. The least I can do is watch your back now.”

  “That’s downright touching, Hank.”

  “Then you got a crooked way of thinkin’, boy. I’m just trying to set things right. Besides, since I can’t keep Ellie away from a man she fancies, I might as well show that man what I can do if he steps out of line. If there is a fight comin’, it’ll show me what this Acklund is made of.”

  Clint patted the old man on the shoulder. “You want to put things right, just stay by Ellie and keep her safe. I’ll do the rest.”

  “And if Acklund plays us both for fools?” Hank asked.

  “Then I’ll make him wish he was never born.”

  FORTY-THREE

  After a quick breakfast, Clint made his way to the Howling Moon Saloon. It was a place that Acklund and Mose had already been to, so he figured there was a chance that Mose and anyone riding with him had visited it again. The barkeep recognized Clint on sight, but hadn’t seen the eldest brother.

  Clint rode Eclipse down to the mill, over to Hank’s house, and then past Aunt Iris’s cottage. None of those places were infested with gunmen, so Clint headed back to the Ranger Hotel. Acklund was waiting for him outside.

  “Told you they wouldn’t be here,” Acklund said. “They mean to catch you when there’s more folks about.”

  “Then why don’t you take me to where they are,” Clint demanded. “That way we won’t have to worry about Ellie or Hank getting hurt.”

  “Fine with me. Just let me get to my horse.”

  The Ranger Hotel had a small stable behind it at the other end of a narrow alley that led from the street. Clint watched Acklund disappear down the alley and waited to hear the loud squeak of the gate. He tightened his grip on Eclipse’s reins, preparing himself to chase Acklund down if he decided to make a run for it.

  Clint heard the squeak of the gate.

  After that, he heard a horse fidgeting before trotting through the gate again.

  Narrowing his eyes, Clint eased his hand toward his holster. The stitches in his gun arm were healing up and he’d already become accustomed to the nagging pain. He’d worked the kinks out well enough to draw without a hitch, but he kept his hand close to the Colt’s grip just to be on the safe side.

  There were heavy steps coming down the alley, announcing Acklund’s presence as he rode back to where Clint was waiting. As soon as he got a look at Clint’s face, Acklund narrowed his eyes into a mean glare.

  “What’s the matter, Clint? Ellie’s pa tell you to bury me under this hotel?”

  Keeping his hand within a few inches of the Colt, Clint replied, “Just making sure you intend on doing what we agreed on.”

  “I said I’d take you to Mose’s camp and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

  Clint had asked the favor over breakfast in the few seconds when Ellie wasn’t gazing lovingly at Acklund’s face. The man hadn’t needed much time before accepting the proposal. After that, Ellie took Acklund for herself and didn’t let him go. At the time, Clint thought that Acklund seemed earnest enough in his reply. But ever since then, Clint couldn’t stop wondering if he was making a mistake.

  Everything Clint heard from Acklund made it seem that he was being honest with him.

  Everything Acklund did fell into line with that. If Acklund had wanted to take a shot at Clint, there had been plenty of opportunities. Clint had even made sure that Acklund kept his gun so he could make his move if that’s what he’d wanted to do. But Acklund had either truly lost his need to avenge his brother or he was too smart to go up against Clint when he was looking for it.

  As if reading the thoughts rushing through Clint’s head, Acklund locked eyes with him and asked, “You want to even things up for what happened before? You want to hurt me since I hurt you?”

  “My arm’s doing just fine,” Clint replied.

  “Then why are you looking at me like you mean to put a bullet in my back?”

  “If I’d wanted you dead, you already would be. I’m just not sure you’ve only got Ellie’s interests at heart.”

  “This ain’t just about her.”

  “That’s right,” Clint said. “It’s about your brother. He’s still dead and I’m still alive. You want me to believe you just came to peace with that?”

  When Clint said those words, he kept his voice steady as a rock and cold as ice. He knew they’d cut straight through Acklund, because that was exactly what Clint intended. If Acklund was going to make a move, he would make it then.

  Clint felt a bit of pain from the stitches in his elbow as he got ready to draw and fire, but Acklund didn’t even twitch toward his own gun.

  “What happened to Dave was his own damn fault,” Acklund said. “I’m only leading you to Mose’s camp because I don’t want any of those crazy friends of my brother’s to hurt Ellie or Hank. I also don’t want anything to happen to Mose.”

  “He’s out to kill me,” Clint pointed out.

  “And he’ll simmer down once those other two outlaws are gone.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  Acklund drew a breath and steeled himself. “Then whatever happens will be his fault. You promise me that you’ll give Mose a chance to change his mind. If you put a bullet in him at your first chance, I’ll see to it I put one into you. I’ve already lost one brother. I won’t lose another.”

  It was a rare occasion that Clint respected a man who threatened his life, but he couldn’t help doing just that. Nodding, Clint took his hand away from his holster. “Let’s go.”

  FORTY-FOUR

  Eclipse had barely hit his stride when Acklund signaled for them to slow down. He pulled back on his reins and Clint did the same, while watching for any sign of an attack. All Clint could see was Acklund pointing toward a stand of trees not too far away. When he waited for a second, Clint could hear what he thought was rowdy laughing up ahead.

  Normally, Clint would have liked to send his partner ahead to try to circle the camp before Clint rode straight into it. That would increase their chances thanks to a simple yet classic strategy. But Acklund wasn’t Clint’s typical sort of partner. In fact, Clint was just as concerned about him as he was about whoever was at that camp.

  Both men rode forward, watching each other as much as they did the trees in front of them. Before he got close enough to see the camp, Clint saw a figure step aw
ay from the trees and then dart behind them again.

  Clint snapped his reins and prepared himself for a fight. “That you, brother?” Mose said as he stepped out from the thick stand of trees.

  Acklund pulled back on his reins a bit and shouted, “It’s me, all right! Send those outlaws home and let’s be done with this. We’ve taken this too far already.”

  Mose hardly seemed to hear his brother. Instead, his eyes were fixed upon Clint and he shifted his feet to take a lower sideways stance.

  Sensing the big man’s intentions, Clint pulled back on his reins and positioned his hand so he could draw at a moment’s notice.

  “What are you talkin’ about?” Mose asked.

  Acklund straightened up and practically stood in his stirrups as he roared, “You know what I’m talking about! It’s what I’ve been saying since this whole damn thing got so far out of hand. It’s over, damn it!”

  Raising his arm to level a finger at Clint, Mose said, “This ain’t over till he’s dead.”

  Before Clint could say a word to that, the trees on either side of Mose exploded in a flurry of fallen leaves and thundering hooves. Two horses busted out from where they’d been hiding on the left and right side of the trees. The men riding the two horses yelled like a pack of wild Indians and immediately started firing at Clint.

  Even though the shots were fast and out of control, they were all hissing in Clint’s direction. Standing in the middle of a hailstorm like that was just asking to be hit. Having already been felled by his share of lucky shots, Clint snapped his reins and steered Eclipse to the left. He didn’t have to think about drawing his gun. Clint’s reflexes acted for him and, amid a biting pain from the stitches in his elbow, the modified Colt was in his grasp.

  Leaning forward over Eclipse’s neck, Clint only had to keep hold of the reins so he could snap or pull back on them. He steered by nudging in either direction with his knees and the Darley Arabian responded as if he could read Clint’s thoughts.

  For the moment, Clint let Eclipse run as fast as he pleased. More wild shots hissed through the air above his head and on either side, while Clint took his time to get a clearer line of fire. The man on the horse closest to him had bushy hair that waved in the breeze like the treetops behind him. His mouth was open and curled into a wide smile as he emptied one pistol and then drew another to replace it.