Together they opened a miner's camp store and supplied goods to those passing through. A drunken drifter attempted to hold up the store and Lilianne died in the gunfire and Hafton suffered a wound to the shoulder. It was a blind rage that drove him to track one of the outlaws to the Last Chance area where he killed the man who took his beloved wife, recovered $5,000 and fled.
“I’d say coming up on nine years now. I came up on you the spring after I’d lost Lilianne.” Hafton stared off into the distance.
Glass took a drink of the strong coffee. There had been nothing in the Lambert wagon. It was a foolish impulse that Iverson had done trying to hold them up. The young girl had been rattled to the bone seeing her own father shot. There was a good chance that wound would go bad and he’d die from the putrid infection. That woman would take the girl and head back to her family in Missouri or some place.
Glass turned his attention over nearer the trees where the black haired man was tied up. He seemed to be sitting still and minding his own business. His face looked like he had felt a couple fists in the last few days. He’d been leading that string of horses so maybe there was money there somewhere. Or he might have spent it all on the horses. Glass decided to see what else was going on here.
“Mister, why don’t you tell me where you were headed with that string of horses?” Glass watched him to see the reaction.
“Tucson. Going home.” It was a belligerent tone said with a cranky tone.
Glass could see the woman fidgeting and fussing with her carpetbag. From time to time she checked the forehead of the old man.
He barked out an order. “Hafton, go see what all is in those saddlebags on those horses.”
“While you’re at it, there’s a parcel of food on that gray mare. If you would be so kind as to bring it to me, I can start up a stew and feed this poor girl.” The heavier woman with the quick needle glared at Glass.
Hafton looked at the woman and then at Glass who shrugged and gestured his chin the direction of the road.
“Thank you, Ma’am. We ain’t had nothing to eat since this morning. We was planning on dinner in Rio Mesa and then these outlaws…” The young girl’s voice trailed off and her lowered lip quivered in emotion.
After several minutes, Hafton came toting the saddlebags into the clearing and let the black bags drop next to the chatty woman. Glass leaned back against the tree and watched as she began giving quiet instructions to the younger girl who began cutting up a couple of carrots and a potato dumping them into the pan of boiling water.
Hafton said, “No sign of Luke out there. Ain’t like him to just take off like that. He didn’t say nothing to me.”
Glass said with a sigh, “He’s got a mind that is easily distracted.” He had caught himself starting to gnash his teeth and wring his leather gloves. Glass stood up and cleared his throat.
“Let the women get their dinner going. With that splint on the old man, they ain’t going anywhere. You and me are gonna take these men down the road a ways and have us a talk.”
The woman cooking dinner looked up in alarm and the young girl put a hand on her arm. They huddled closer together. Glass pulled up the black haired man to his feet and prodded him towards the road. Hafton spent some time untying the older man’s feet and then followed after Glass.
The sky looked just past noon. A breeze had come up and rustled through the paper thin leaves of the cottonwoods. After Glass had pulled his revolver out, he walked down the road about fifty yards and then gestured down a narrow footpath. This was a path used by animals. Under the shade of an old oak he stopped, put his revolver in its holster and put on a pair of light leather gloves.
“I’m Nick Stolter and this is Griff Southcott. We don’t want no trouble here, mister.” Glass pivoted and slammed a right hand into the side of Stolter’s head. It jarred him on his feet and he stumbled backwards. Hafton caught him and got him balanced again.
“I don’t care who you are. All I care about is if you have any money left over from buying them horses.” Glass rubbed his fist with his other hand.
Stolter spit off to the side and shook his head. “I didn’t buy ‘em. Friend of mine owed me money. Them horses paid off the debt.”
Hafton examined Southcott a little closer. “Hey boss. This man is hurt and bleedin’.”
Glass took a couple of steps closer to Southcott. “What happened to you, mister?”
Southcott blinked a couple of times and drew in a wheezy breath. “I was on my way to see Beulah and a couple men jumped me on the road. I was taking a couple of mares over to her and they took them. Everyone started shooting and I caught a bullet in my side. Here I am.” Hafton pulled back the coat and shirt and they could see a bloody bandage wrapped around his left side. Southcott grimaced in pain.
Glass sneered. “Well, you’ve had nothing but bad luck all the way around.” Hafton started emptying out Southcott’s pockets.
“You better get a doctor to look at that, mister. That don’t look so good.” Hafton let drop a couple of envelopes to the ground, looked at a key and dropped it to the ground, then jingled a couple of coins in his hand.
Glass looked at Hafton. “Four dollars? A man going to see his sweetheart only has four dollars? Oh wait. And a couple of mares.” Glass looked away waving his arm with exasperation.
Hafton had a frown on his face looking first at Southcott and then at Stolter. “Wait a minute. If he was going to see his sweetheart, how do you know him? Or do you know her?” Hafton squinted his eyes in a frown as he looked at Stolter.
Glass swatted the arm of Hafton. “This ain’t no penny romance story, Frisco. Nobody else has come along this road in over four hours. We’re out in the middle nowhere with no money and Luke has run off.”
Hafton grunted and turned the pocket watch over and over in his hands. He pressed the knob and the front cover clicked open. The outlaw brought the watch closer to look at the tiny portrait of a dark haired woman opposite the clock face. He looked at Southcott.
“This ain’t that lady back over there you were riding with. This ain’t your sweetheart at all. Who is this?” Hafton sounded disapproving like he had uncovered an illicit romance and ready to chastise a straying beau.
Southcott looked at the ground and shook his head as he pursed his lips. He brought his eyes up to Hafton. “It was in the watch when I won it in a poker game in Red Springs. I don’t know who it is.” The outlaw raised his eyebrows, nodding, and stuck out his bottom lip in appraisal.
Glass bustled over to Hafton and grabbed the watch and jammed it down into his pocket. He shoved Hafton away.
“If you’ll leave us a horse, I can get the wagon hitched up and get that man to a doctor,” said Stolter. Glass’s eyes darkened and his brow furrowed as he turned, took two steps and slammed a fist into Stolter’s left jaw. The man fell into Southcott who stumbled and fell down.
Glass lost control with a shriek and attacked Stolter with both fists. The nose was bloodied and the side of the mouth cut. Stolter rolled back and forth trying to avoid the fists but grunted with every one that landed.
“Boss! Boss! Get off him!” Hafton pulled a red-faced Glass back off Stolter and pushed him to the side.
“You trying to kill him? You’ll be up for murder, Boss!” Hafton rolled Stolter onto his back. His face was cut, bloody and his left eye was beginning to swell up. Stolter coughed and spit out blood.
Glass took off his glove and turned away to hide his shaking hands. The rage roiled through him and he clenched his jaw. He had wanted to head over land, riding through the desert to avoid the main roads inside his coat pocket was verified map to an abandoned gold mine. Now he was stuck in a stupid situation caused by a hot head two bot thief and on top of everything else, now had disappeared. The aggravation overflowed.
“Frank, get the horses saddled. I want to be long gone from here come sundown.” Hafton stared at Glass for a moment and then shrugged as he walked towards the road wiping his hands on his jeans. He had h
is last two dollars in his jeans pocket and he was getting desperate.
Glass rubbed his face with both hands and then combed his fingers through his hair. “You both stay quiet for the next hour after we’re gone. That brash woman will come find you, no doubt. She’ll tend to you. You got your hands full with her, mister. I think she’s a bronc that’ll never be broke.” As he turned away, he dropped the Southcott’s pocket watch onto the old stump and swore under his breath.
###
Stolter blinked a couple of times and strained around to look for Southcott. He guessed it had been half an hour since Glass and Hafton rode away.
He croaked with a strained voice, “Griff, you okay?”
A moan answered him. “Dizzy. I’m losing blood and I get dizzy when I try to sit up. Probably tore of couple of Beulah’s stitches. As long as I can crawl I’ll fight.”
A twig snapped behind Stolter and he rolled onto his back as he tried to peer into the brush. The young girl, Desiree, climbed around a bush and then crawled under another. She carried a canteen and a carving knife. She held her fingers to her lips to quiet the men.
After she had cut loose Stolter’s hands she gave him the canteen and went to cut the ropes on Southcott.
Desiree’s voice whispered close to Southcott’s ear, “They rode out. The left the wagon and took the gray horse. Miss Beulah almost got herself shot when they put a rope around the gray. They tried to make her go with them but, well, she had some colorful language that described horrible, gruesome wounds.”
Southcott chuckled and then gripped his side. “I think I just fell in love with her all over again.” Stolter grinned and handed the canteen to the wounded man.
“She was mighty worried about you men. I’ll go get her to come back over here. My ma and pa are resting right now so they’ll be okay.” Desiree clambered back through the brush and after a moment it was quiet again. Just as things seem to calm down, Desiree came running down the path with a terrified look.
Chapter 11
“That other man that left to get the horses, the red haired man with the bad cut on his face, he came back. He’s pretty mad.” Desiree trembled, wringing her hands as she looked back up the path.
“I heard voices when I got close to the camp. I saw him arguing with Miss Beulah. I didn’t let him see me. I came back over here with you men.” The young girl fought back tears.
“He’s alone?” Stolter asked.
“There’s nobody else with him.” Desiree wrung her hands together much like her mother had done.
They had no weapons, one cooking knife and some tangled rope. Southcott was too weak to help. Stolter’s eye was almost swollen shut. Desiree was scared to death and shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.
“Griff, you lay still and rest as best you can. I’m gonna see if I can get close enough to see what’s going on with Beulah and that fella, Luke.” Stolter took off his coat and laid over the top of Southcott, who gripped his arm.
“Don’t you be takin’ any chances because of Beulah. She can take care of herself. She has done a good job these many years and my money’s on her,” the gruff voice said. Stolter tried to smile but the cut on the side of his mouth stung so he gripped the hand in acknowledgment.
Stolter turned back to Desiree and put his hands on her shoulders. “We’re going back over there real slow and quiet like. I don’t want anyone to see or hear us. We need to listen to what they’re talking about. Understand?” The young girl had tears in her eyes.
“Beulah will take care of your ma and pa. Come on now, dry your eyes and let’s find out what’s going on.” She wiped her sleeve across her eyes, nodded and then stepped into the brush with Stolter right behind her.
On the other side of the road in the clearing, the echo of the woman’s frustration was clear. Beulah’s voice was exasperated and belligerent. “He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with his travel plans. We’re far enough back in these trees that I couldn’t tell if he went east or west.”
The angry man said, “That girl should have been back by now.”
“She went to relieve herself. Sometimes it takes a little longer. She ain’t gonna leave her ma and pa, especially since they’re hurt. Glass sent you out to hunt down them horses. Did you find ‘em? Did ya bring them back with you?” Beulah put a hand on an ample hip and shifted her weight towards the man.
“It ain’t none of your business if I found ‘em or not. Truth is, there ain’t no sign of ‘em. They ran in all different directions.” Iverson waved his arm at the trees.
Beulah sneered and then turned to rest her fingertips on the forehead of Mr. Lambert. “He’s burning up. He needs a doctor. I need that black gelding hooked up to the wagon so I can get them to Red Springs and the doctor.” Beulah stood up.
“You gonna hitch up that horse or do I have to do it?” She threw caution to the wind.
“Woman, you ain’t going anywhere. Now sit back down!” Iverson waved the gun. His jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth and his eyes grew narrow.
Beulah lifted her chin in defiance. “You got the guts to shoot old men. You got the guts to shoot women and children, too?”
Stolter and Desiree leaned back from the boulder. “I need you to make your way around the other side of the clearing. You’ll need to be on that wagon with Beulah to take care of your ma and pa.”
Desiree’s voice was a squeak and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m afraid.”
“Before the wagon takes out, try to drop a couple of bandages off to one side for Griff.” She nodded and then crawled off into the brush. A few minutes later she stepped back into the clearing.
“You’re the man who shot my pa!” Desiree accused him. Beulah took her hand and sat her down next to the fire. Desiree’s eyes were wet with tears again.
Iverson’s lips were held back in a wicked grin. “Shut up, you little brat.”
Stolter backtracked down into the wash and washed his face in the creek. His eye was tender and swollen but he could still see. His hand came away tinged with red from the cut on the side of his mouth. He made his way back across the road and down into the gulley where Southcott lay.
“You’re right. She’s a firebrand.” Stolter settled down next to Southcott and told him what he had heard.
Southcott took in a deep breath. “Iverson’s gang rode off without him. I’d bet money they headed west, same direction you’ll be headed. From here on, you’ll be up against running into them again, you know.” Stolter nodded and rubbed his jaw.
Southcott said, “It don’t make no sense why he’d go east to Red Springs. He should be going west towards California. He goes east, there’s something he wants back there. I don’t even wanna guess what that would be. Another thing. My hammerhead is out there somewheres. When them horses of yours took off, he did right along with them. But he’s not a social type horse. He don’t stay with the herd. Now, I’m not counting on it, but I do think he might come looking for me.”
Stolter looked skeptical. “You think your horse will try to find you? I thought they took him.”
“Remember now, I raised him from a colt and I’ve been the only one riding him. Well, no. I take that back. He let Beulah ride him once in the corral while I watched. No, Hafton would have mentioned a mean horse, but he didn’t.”
“You find a way to knock Iverson off his horse, get him tied up, and help them folks get started back to Red Springs. I think that young girl can drive the wagon. If that man is as bad off as you say, he don’t stand a chance without a doctor.” Southcott coughed and grimaced in pain.
“Get them started towards Red Springs and bring Beulah back here. I’m afraid if I try to ride, I’ll bleed to death. And that’ll just ruin my week.” Stolter nodded and then motioned for Southcott to quiet down.
A couple yards away up on the road the sound of a wagon going west was heard. Indistinguishable voices droned on for a few minutes until the wagon moved on down the road. Stolter sat back down with Southcott and took a drink
from the canteen.
About an hour later, Stolter checked the road to see if it was clear and then scrambled over to the clearing where Beulah had worked on the man. It took him a while to find a tied cloth with two bandages, a cut up apple and two pieces of beef jerky. Stolter shoved those in his shirt and reached for the pan still on the fire. That was when he heard the wood crack behind him.
###
One of the yearlings and one of the buckskins lifted their heads from grazing as the horseman walked over to scratch them. They were chewing on the grass as if nothing had happened. Stolter walked back up the narrow path and was almost ready to climb up onto the road when he heard the voice.
“Hold it right there, mister.” Stolter started to raise up his hands as he shifted his weight and turned towards the voice. Two tall men in dusters and black hats sat on horses with guns drawn on Stolter.
“My day just went from bad to worse.” Stolter said as he shook his head and his shoulders drooped.
The first man said, “Who are you and what are you doing out here?”
“My name is Nick Stolter. A friend and I were jumped by three men up on the road. My friend is hurt pretty bad and I’ve got him laying down the road in the brush. He needs to get over to the doc in Red Springs.”
The first man cleared his throat and said, “I’m Henry Elliot of the Texas Rangers. This is Edgar Worthington also from the Texas Rangers. You fit the description of one of the men wanted for murder up in Denver we believe to be in this area.” The cold, dark eyes of the second man bore into Stolter.
Stolter shook his head and kept his hands in the air. “You would be looking for men named Glass, Luke Iverson, and Francisco Hafton, right?” Worthington and Elliot looked at each other. Stolter gave them a quick rundown on how he and Griff Southcott came to be here.
“Southcott? Griff Southcott? I know this man. He’s here?” The white haired man with the intense black eyes asked as he holstered his gun.
“He’s over in the brush on the other side of the road. He’s hurt bad and bleeding and needs a doctor. I can show you.” Worthington gestured for Stolter to lead the way.
Nick Stolter Page 10
