When All Hell Broke Loose

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  Preacher was a strong swimmer and kept his left arm locked around Colleen while using his right arm and his legs to stroke and kick toward the surface.

  They broke into the air a few moments later. Colleen gasped and choked and spluttered. Preacher knew she must have swallowed some water, but she sounded like she would be all right.

  As for himself, he’d had the presence of mind to drag in a big breath as they leaped from the runaway carriage, so he was in pretty good shape as he kept them afloat. He put his mouth close to Colleen’s ear and said, “Keep as quiet as you can. The fellas who are left from that bunch may be lookin’ for us.”

  “We . . . we have to get to shore!” she said. Her teeth chattered. “It’s so cold! And I can’t swim!”

  “Shhh,” Preacher said, trying again to impress on her the need for quiet. He tried not to splash too much, but he had to put some effort into keeping them from sinking.

  He heard hoofbeats and then men’s voices calling to each other, not too far away. The two remaining pursuers were up there. One of them said, “How are we going to find them now?”

  “They’re probably dead,” replied the other man. “The wreck could have killed them, and if it didn’t, they drowned when that damn carriage went to the bottom.”

  “Now what are we gonna do?”

  “We won’t be able to get any money out of that woman, that’s for sure.” The would-be kidnapper heaved a disappointed sigh. “Who knew that fancy pants with her would turn out to be such a fighting fool?”

  “He sure didn’t look like it in that silly top hat.” The other man’s voice turned grim. “But he killed four pretty tough fellows. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it.”

  “What are we going to do about the bodies?”

  “Leave them where they fell. What else can we do about it?”

  “The law might connect them with us. We’ve been seen together.”

  “Might be a good idea for us to leave town for a while.”

  Preacher hoped they would do just that. He was angry and wouldn’t have minded settling up with those two, but as long as he had Colleen Grainger to look out for, it was better that they just move on.

  Before that could happen, Colleen picked that moment to sneeze.

  She didn’t actually pick it, Preacher reflected later. The water that had gone up her nose probably was the cause. But whatever the reason, the urge had struck and she couldn’t hold it back, and as the sound echoed over the water, the men on the dock exclaimed in surprise.

  “She’s down there in the water!” one of them said. “We need to find her. We can still cash in!”

  “Oh, Preacher, I’m sorry!” Colleen wailed.

  He didn’t waste any time or breath trying to reassure her. Kicking strongly, he pulled at the water with his free arm and headed toward the nearest pier. If they could get underneath it, Colleen would be relatively safe for the moment, and she could hang on to one of the support crosspieces while he dealt with the two men.

  Looked like he might get to settle that score after all, Preacher thought.

  He heard running footsteps.

  One of the men shouted, “Over there! I hear them!”

  A gun blasted.

  The other man yelled, “Don’t shoot, you fool! You might hit the woman!”

  Another strong kick sent Preacher and Colleen gliding through the water into the pitch darkness underneath the pier. Preacher felt around until he found one of the crosspieces. Thinking Colleen could sit on it and hold on to one of the vertical beams, he slid his hands under her arms and lifted her. She clutched desperately at the beam.

  “Stay right there,” he told her. “I’ll come back and get you after I’ve dealt with those hombres.”

  “Preacher, I-I’m freezing! I don’t know how long I can hold on.”

  In her soaked clothes, she would be even colder now that she was mostly out of the water and the wind was blowing on her. But the alternative was for them to surrender to the two men, and they sure weren’t going to do that. There was no chance it would end well for either of them if they did.

  “Just hang on and don’t make any noise. I’ll be back for you.”

  He took his boots off, hating to lose them, then drew in a deep breath and went under the water. He twisted out of the coat and let it go, as well. Free of those encumbrances, he was able to swim underneath another dock, found the ladder attached to it, and climbed up.

  The two men weren’t making any effort to be quiet. After all the shooting, it probably was too late for that, anyway. More than likely, it would be a while before any law showed up to investigate the commotion, so the men had time to search for their intended prey.

  “We need a damn lantern,” one of them complained as Preacher crouched behind a barrel and watched them. The man leaned over to look underneath one of the piers.

  “You’d better be careful,” the other man advised. “That’s a good way to get shot in the face.”

  “Any gun he has won’t be any good to him after being dunked in the bay.”

  “Yeah, I reckon you’re right about that. Still, if it was me, I wouldn’t underestimate that man, whoever he is.”

  Preacher’s keen eyes had adjusted to the faint light available along the docks and spotted a length of board lying on the ground a few feet away. Moving with the same silent grace that had allowed him to sneak into Blackfoot camps as a young man without ever being caught, he slipped over to the board and picked it up. It would make a nice, makeshift club, he decided.

  He glided like a phantom toward the two men, who were heading for the pier where Colleen was hiding. He was almost within reach of one of them when the man suddenly lifted his head and said, “Hey, do you hear something dripping?”

  Preacher lunged and swung with plenty of power before the other man could answer. The board cracked against his target’s head, and he knew from the soggy thud and the way the man dropped like a rock that he had crushed the varmint’s skull.

  The gun in the man’s hand dropped to the ground as he collapsed. The other searcher turned around in response to the noise. The gun in his hand swung toward Preacher.

  The mountain man scooped up the fallen weapon and dropped to one knee as his hand came up with blinding speed. Flame belched from the gun’s muzzle. The second man staggered back and cried out in shock and pain as the bullet drove into his chest. His feet suddenly reached empty air, and he toppled backward into the water next to the pier, raising a huge splash.

  Preacher heard a pitiful little cry from under that pier, then Collen called, “Preacher, help!”

  He set the gun aside and went back into the water in a smooth dive. As he came back up, he heard Colleen flailing and splashing as she fought desperately to keep her head out of the water. A couple of swift strokes took him to her side.

  “I got you,” he told her as he slipped an arm around her and pulled her against him. “It’s all right, Colleen. They’re all dead now.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and clutched him as if she would never let go. Sobbing, she buried her fact against his shoulder. “Oh, Preacher . . . I . . . I slipped off . . . when that man fell in . . . I was just . . . too cold to hang on.”

  “It’s all right,” he told her again. “Let’s get you out of this water. We need to get back to the hotel and dry off, otherwise you’re liable to catch your death o’ cold.”

  He took her to the ladder and helped her climb, then followed her out of the bay. The damp wind off the water chilled him to the bone, and if he felt like that, he knew it had to be even worse for Colleen. She wasn’t accustomed to such harsh conditions.

  Farther up the docks, Preacher had seen some coarsely woven blankets spread over the piles of cargo to protect them from the elements. Those blankets could serve the same purpose for Colleen. He put an arm around her shoulders and led her in that direction. She shivered violently. Her teeth clattered together.

  He found one of the blankets and wrap
ped it around her, then sat her down on a crate.

  “Stay here for a minute,” he told her. “I’m gonna see if I can catch the horses those last two fellas were ridin’. I don’t think they’ve had time to wander far.”

  “H-Hurry, Preacher. I th-think my insides . . . are going to shake apart.”

  He hustled along the dock and found the two horses standing at the mouth of an alley, clearly confused as to what they should do next. Using his knack for getting along with animals, he spoke to the horses softly as he approached them, not making any sudden moves. He was able to snag the dangling reins of both mounts.

  Colleen looked miserable, huddling deep inside the blanket, when he got back to her.

  “You’re gonna have to ride astride,” he said. “Sorry.”

  “I . . . I don’t care. I just want to get warm again.”

  “Won’t be long now,” Preacher assured her, adding under his breath, “As the tavern wench said to the parson.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Never mind. Nothin’ important.”

  He lifted Colleen onto one of the horses, then decided to swing up behind her instead of riding the other horse. He kept his arms wrapped around her to help her warm up more as he took the reins and nudged the horse into motion.

  “How . . . how can you keep going like this? I mean . . . you’re not a young man anymore.”

  “Clean livin’,” replied Preacher with a grin. “As the parson said to the tavern wench . . .”

  * * *

  By the time they got back to the hotel, Colleen’s tremors finally had subsided some. Preacher slid down from the horse’s back and lifted his hands to catch her as she practically fell out of the saddle.

  They got a lot of startled looks from the hotel staff and guests alike when they entered the lobby in their soaked clothes. Colleen had the cargo blanket wrapped around her. Preacher’s hat and coat were gone and he had no boots.

  The clerk at the desk exclaimed, “Oh, my! Mrs. Grainger, what . . . what in heaven’s name happened to you?”

  Preacher said, “We can explain all that later, old son. For now, we need a tub and plenty o’ hot water brought up to the lady’s suite just as quick as you can manage. All right?”

  “Yes, of course, sir. I beg your pardon, sir, but you look like you fell in the bay!”

  “That’s because we did,” Preacher said. “How about gettin’ started on that hot water?”

  “Yes!” The clerk gestured emphatically for a couple of bellmen to get busy with that task.

  Preacher, with his arm around Colleen’s shoulders, turned her toward the staircase. He tensed as a man stood up from the armchair where he’d been sitting in the lobby and moved to intercept them. More trouble?

  Maybe, maybe not, he thought as a second later he relaxed slightly. The man wore an army uniform and had the fresh, eager look of a shavetail lieutenant about him.

  “Mister . . . Preacher? Sir? I’m afraid I don’t have any other name . . .”

  “Preacher’ll do,” the mountain man said. “What do you want, son? As you can see, I’m a mite busy.”

  “I’m Lieutenant Milligan, sir. I’m posted at the Presidio. The post commander received a dispatch requesting that he locate and contact you on behalf of Colonel Finlay Sutton, attached to the Department of War in Washington.”

  “I know who Colonel Sutton is,” Preacher said. “Did some work for him a time or two in the past. But whatever he wants, it’s gonna have to wait. This poor lady’s froze plumb half to death, at least.”

  He started to lead Colleen past the young officer, but Lieutenant Milligan raised a hand to stop them.

  “I see that, and I apologize for my timing, sir, but my orders are to notify you that you should proceed with all due haste to a place in Colorado called MacCallister’s Valley, where you will rendezvous with Colonel Sutton.”

  Despite the situation, Preacher didn’t bull the lieutenant aside, as he’d been about to do. “MacCallister’s Valley?” he repeated. “Me and Jamie MacCallister handled a little dustup down along the Mexican border a while back. What in blazes does the army want with us now?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to go to Colorado to find out about that, sir, because I have no idea.” Lieutenant Milligan hesitated, then asked, “May I inform my commander that the message is received and understood and will be complied with?”

  “Yeah, yeah, when I get around to it,” said Preacher as he stepped around the young officer and guided the still-shivering Colleen toward the stairs. “First I got me a lady to warm up, and that’s a mite more important right now.” He glanced over his shoulder and added, “Don’t you go takin’ that the wrong way, neither, you young whippersnapper!”

  They left Lieutenant Milligan gaping up the stairs after them.

  Despite Preacher’s concern for Colleen—she was his first priority—he couldn’t help but wonder what the unexpected message was going to lead to. Colonel Finlay Sutton, though a seasoned frontier commander, was pretty high up in the War Department these days and dealt with important matters. And any time Preacher got together with Jamie MacCallister, some ruckus inevitably busted out. It seemed that trouble followed Jamie around, just like it did Preacher.

  Even though the evening hadn’t gone as planned—he hadn’t had supper in a fancy restaurant or watched a bunch of costumed players prance around on a theater stage—a grin of anticipation stretched across the mountain man’s rugged face. As he led Colleen along the corridor toward her suite, he said, “There, there, darlin’, pretty soon ever’thing’s gonna be just fine.”

  Chapter 5

  MacCallister’s Valley, Colorado—two weeks later

  * * *

  “I swear, Falcon, you must’ve growed a foot since the last time I seen you,” Preacher told Jamie and Kate MacCallister’s youngest son.

  “Yeah, I’m going to be as big as my pa one of these days,” the blond teenager said confidently.

  “Well, it’s all right if you ain’t.” Preacher grinned at Jamie as the three of them stood beside the fence around the corral where Horse had just been put to rest after two weeks of hard riding from northern California. “It’s not ever’body who can be built like a dang mountain. Your pa’s so big, he’s sort of a freak o’ nature.”

  “Speaking of freaks of nature, Falcon,” Jamie responded dryly, “I once knew a man who went two whole years without a bath.”

  Preacher frowned. “I was busy. Anyway, I fell in a river a few times durin’ those two years, so I had baths. They just wasn’t intentional-like.”

  Jamie laughed and clapped a big hand on Preacher’s shoulder. “Well, come on into the house. Kate’s eager to see you again, and so is Colonel Sutton.”

  Preacher narrowed his eyes at his massive friend and said, “The colonel didn’t get us together here for a friendly visit, much as I might like socializin’ with you and your family, Jamie. What’s he want?”

  “I’ll let him tell you about that,” Jamie said as he and Preacher walked toward the big, sprawling, log-and-stone ranch house. “He’s been a little tight-lipped about it with me, too.”

  Falcon followed them as Dog bounded on ahead. The shaggy, wolflike cur could be intimidating, even frightening, when he wanted to be, but at moments like this, full of exuberance, he was like a big, friendly puppy.

  Kate, Jamie’s beautiful blond wife and the mother of their brood of children, stepped onto the porch. She looked at least ten years younger than she actually was and smiled as she raised a hand in greeting to the mountain man.

  “Hello, Preacher,” she called. “It’s so good to see you again. I was happy when Jamie told me you were going to be paying us a visit.”

  Preacher had first met the MacCallisters many years earlier, when Jamie and Kate were in their teens and recently married. In his wanderings from one end of the frontier to the other, Preacher had dropped in at their ranch a number of times over the years.

  “And I’m mighty happy to be here,” he
replied as they started up the steps to the broad porch. “Even though I’m just followin’ orders, you could say.”

  A tall, lean man came out onto the porch behind Kate. His close-cropped hair was gray threaded with silver, as was his mustache. He wore an army uniform, and his erect bearing testified that such had been his usual garb for a long time.

  “If you didn’t want to be here, Preacher, you wouldn’t be, orders or no orders.” The man grinned as he stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “I can only echo Mrs. MacCallister. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Likewise, Colonel.” Preacher gripped Finlay Sutton’s hand. “Now, what in blazes is so important you had to get me and Jamie together?”

  “Oh, no,” Kate said before Colonel Sutton could reply. “You’re not going to have that discussion standing out here. Come on inside and make yourselves comfortable in the parlor. I have a pot of coffee ready, for however long this discussion lasts.”

  “I hope it won’t last too long,” said Sutton. “The situation really isn’t that complicated.” His friendly expression grew solemn. “I need you to find out what happened to some unfortunate souls who disappeared five years ago.”

  “Inside,” Kate said sternly.

  A few minutes later, the three men were settled down in the ranch house’s comfortable parlor. Jamie and Preacher were in armchairs flanking the massive fireplace, while Sutton sat on a divan with a heavy wooden frame. It was a masculine room, with lots of thick, dark wood, but the feminine touches Kate had brought to it lightened the mood, making it a room where either men or women could be at ease.

  Falcon had wanted to sit in on their meeting, but Kate had guided him away after bringing in coffee for Jamie, Preacher, and the colonel.

  “I’m gonna be having adventures of my own, one of these days,” Falcon had complained as his mother was ushering him out. “You just wait and see. It may not be that awful long from now, either.”

  “I’m sure that’s right, dear,” Kate had told him with complete sincerity. “You wouldn’t be your father’s son if you didn’t want to go off adventuring.”