Pray for Death

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  CHAPTER 12

  Inside the saloon it became strangely quiet. Etta Grice stood by the table, now empty of diners, baffled by the absence of the two people who had gone outside to contact Teddy. With no motivation to start cleaning up her kitchen, she remained in the saloon, watching the two obviously desperate men, aware of the mounting tension between them. Finally, after what seemed an inordinate amount of time since Bud went out the door, Jace spoke. “What in the hell is goin’ on? He shoulda been back here by now.”

  “He’s out there,” Cobb declared solemnly. “Tanner, that’s what’s happened to ’em. He’s out there and he’s waitin’ for us to come get him. But he’s still a dead man if he tries to come in here to get us.”

  “I’m wastin’ my time lookin’ out this front window,” Jace decided. “It’s plain that he ain’t in the front. He’s back by the corral. That’s where we sent everybody, and they ain’t come back.” To emphasize his belief, he returned to the bar. “The thing we ain’t thought about is the fact that he’s settin’ down there at the corral with all our horses. We can’t get outta here without walkin’ into that rifle of his.”

  “We ain’t wantin’ to get outta here,” Cobb insisted. “We can sure as hell wait him out. We’ve got food and somebody to cook it. We’ll wait him out till he gets hungry and tired of settin’ down there by the corral. Then when he decides he’s gonna try to come get us, we’ll be waitin’ for him.”

  “What if he decides to run our horses off?” Jace asked, still skeptical of their situation. “We was plannin’ to leave here and go to the Arbuckles. I’d sure hate to have to walk there.”

  “He ain’t gonna run the horses off,” Cobb replied, not sure of it, since Jace brought it up, but reluctant to admit the possibility. “Stayin’ right here where we can cut him down, if he finally does get up the guts to come in here after us, is the best thing to do.” He glanced over at Etta, still standing, listening to the discussion. “Like I said, we’ve got food and somebody to cook it for us. We’re in good shape. Ain’t we, Etta?”

  She didn’t answer his question, making a statement instead. “I reckon I’d best get in there and clean up my kitchen,” she said.

  “And put on another pot of coffee,” Cobb called after her as she disappeared through the door to the kitchen.

  “Right!” Etta yelled back at him.

  Back to Jace then, Cobb said, “We need to make sure we don’t get sleepy till after we take care of Tanner. I swear, though, I’ve drunk so much coffee already that I might need to tell Etta to find me another fruit jar.” He forced a chuckle in appreciation for his humor.

  Jace made an effort to join in, but found nothing humorous about the situation the two of them found themselves in. He walked back to the front window, more as an effort to burn some of the nervous energy constantly building inside him, instead of watching for Tanner. The eerie disappearance of the three people they had sent to the corral was something he couldn’t explain. And Jace needed to be able to see things plain as day. He was thinking now that he would have preferred to face Tanner while it was still daylight and take his chances in a face-to-face shoot-out. After another long interval of silence, he shrugged and walked back to the bar. “Etta!” he yelled. “Ain’t that coffee ready yet?” He waited for a response, but there was none. “Etta!” he yelled again. When again there was no answer from the kitchen, he said, “Damned old woman, has she gone deef?” He walked into the kitchen only to find it empty. Confused, because they would have seen her if she had come out of the kitchen to go to her room, he went to the pantry. When he didn’t find her there, he moved quickly to the back door. It was unlocked! He quickly threw the bolt again, drawing his Colt at the same time and looking right and left in case Tanner was in the kitchen. Shaken now, he hurried back into the saloon to tell Cobb. “She’s gone!” he blurted out, still with a drawn pistol.

  “Whaddaya mean, ‘She’s gone’?” Cobb responded.

  “I mean she’s gone,” Jace repeated. “She ain’t in the kitchen. She didn’t put no pot of coffee on the stove, and the back door was unlocked.”

  Cobb reacted in the same manner as his partner, drawing his weapon as well. Then it occurred to him. “Most likely she went to the outhouse. Did you lock the door?” Jace nodded, having never thought of that reasonable possibility. “Well, best leave it locked—make her knock to get back in. Then maybe she’ll remember to use that thunder mug she’s got under her bed next time.”

  Feeling irritated that he had not thought of that possibility, he said, “The old bag, she might as well have said, Come on in, the door’s open.” He swore, then said, “She coulda put the coffee on to boil before she went to the outhouse.”

  He would have been a lot madder at Etta had he known that she had been in the kitchen brief minutes before he had come to look for her. For as he and Cobb waited for her knock on the kitchen door, she was even then on her way to the corral, having made up her mind which side she was on. Equally mystified by the disappearance of Ida and Bud when they went to talk to Teddy, she did not believe any harm had come to them. In the brief time she had known Will Tanner, she did not see him as a cruel and evil man. And at this particular stage in her sometimes-hard life, she feared very little of what might lie ahead in her future. Like Ida and Bud before her, she saw the dark image of someone crouching by the corner of the corral. Unlike them, she felt certain who the form actually was. “Hey, Will Tanner,” she announced before getting within a dozen feet of him, “I’m comin’ to join my friends. Where’d you put ’em?”

  Will didn’t answer right away, surprised by the greeting from the rambunctious woman, wearing a coat plus a blanket wrapped around her. “They’re in the smokehouse, waitin’ for you.” He rose to his feet, still a little suspicious of her motives. “You ain’t carryin’ a weapon under that blanket, are you?”

  “Nope,” she replied, and opened the blanket wide so he could see.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he said, still cautious, lest she was up to some trick he couldn’t see coming. “But you’re my first volunteer for the smokehouse. The others had to be escorted at gunpoint.” He said that, even though there had been no resistance from any of the three.

  Not waiting for him, she made straight for the smokehouse. “I reckon I’ve got a feelin’ that all three of ’em went to the smokehouse without givin’ you any trouble a-tall,” she called back over her shoulder. “I think all four of us are ready to see the last of that pair in the house. I’m bettin’ that you ain’t out to give us no trouble, since you know we ain’t killed nobody, ain’t rustled no cattle, or held up no banks. I don’t know if Ida told you, but we’ve been talkin’ about runnin’ this place as a legitimate restaurant and stopover, with no whiskey sold. So, what I’m sayin’ is, we’re ready to bet on you to clean this place out, so don’t let us down.”

  They had arrived at the smokehouse by the time Etta had said her piece, leaving Will somewhat astonished. He had in no way anticipated a desertion movement on the part of Tiny McGee’s hired help, and he was still a little reluctant to accept it whole hog. From inside the smokehouse, Ida called out, “Etta, is that you?” She had evidently heard Etta chattering away as they approached.

  “Yes, honey, it’s me,” Etta answered. “I decided to give up my evil ways and turn myself over to the law.” Will opened the door and Etta stepped inside to be welcomed by Ida and the two men. “You all ran out on me and left me up there with those two jackasses.”

  “They still hidin’ behind the bar?” Bud asked.

  “That they are,” Etta said. “When you never came back, I made up my mind that I weren’t gonna be the only one left to wait on ’em. When Cobb hollered for me to make him some coffee, I walked into the kitchen and right on out the back door. I wanted to see what you were all up to, so I could join you.”

  “I reckon what’s gonna happen to us now depends on what you’re fixin’ to do, Deputy,” Bud said to Will. “You thinkin’ about goin’ in there
to get ’em? ’Cause that’s just what they’re waitin’ for you to try. Matter of fact, that’s what they’re hopin’ you’ll try. They’re hunkered down behind that bar, like it was a fort.” Will didn’t answer right away, so Bud made another suggestion. “You might be thinkin’ about settin’ the place on fire and run ’em outta there.” His idea caused a sudden silence among his three partners in mutiny.

  “To tell you the truth,” Will finally answered, “that’s what I had in mind to do. I figured I’d probably have to.” He could almost feel their silence at that point. “But if Etta is telling me the truth about what you plan to do with this place, I reckon I’ll have to think of some other way to get them outta there. I ain’t sure if this spot is a good one for the kind of place you’re talkin’ about, but I reckon you oughta have the chance to try it.” His statement caused an immediate sigh of relief from all four.

  “Dad-burn if that ain’t damn decent of you,” Teddy said.

  “I swear, if you weren’t a lawman, I’d give you a hug,” Etta declared. “You’d be the first one I’ve ever hugged, though.”

  Will was trying to decide his next move while they were congratulating one another on their good fortune. He had not lied when he told them he had planned to burn Mama’s Kitchen to the ground, to make sure no other outlaws tried to use it. It was a pretty secure building to break into. He had to give Tiny credit for that. Then an idea occurred to him and he asked Etta a question. “You said you came out the kitchen door. Did you lock it behind you?” He wasn’t sure she could lock the door from the outside.

  She verified that when she answered. “No, it ain’t got no lock on the outside of that door. You have to latch it from the inside. I hate to disappoint you, but I heard one of ’em lock it when I was walkin’ away from the house. Mighta been Jace. He was the one I heard hollerin’ my name.”

  Will shook his head, disappointed. “Any other way to get in that saloon room? How ’bout from those rooms on the back?” Again he was disappointed when she said that Cobb and Jace had made sure all the other doors were barred. Then she suggested a plan that might work, but it would be dangerous.

  “You know, I’ve been gone awhile, but it ain’t been that long. I could go back and knock on the door, tell ’em I was usin’ the outhouse. Then when they unlocked it, the rest would be up to you.”

  That was better than anything he could think of, but it might put her at risk. “Are you sure you wanna take a chance on that? You’d have to run like hell as soon as the bolt was thrown.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” she said. “I’ll do it if you wanna try it.”

  “That’s the only way I think I can get in there,” he said. “The only problem is, I had planned to keep all four of you locked in this smokehouse in case I didn’t make it. That way, they wouldn’t know that you were helping me.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Teddy said. “If they shoot you, Etta can tell ’em you forced her. Then she let us out when she ran away.”

  “If you’re gonna do it, we’d best get to it,” Etta said. “Much longer and he might not believe I was in the outhouse that long.”

  “All right, then, let’s go,” Will said. He and Etta hurried back toward the kitchen door, leaving three excited souls wishing him good luck. As they approached the steps to the kitchen, he couldn’t help thinking of the possibility that this was all a planned trap. Etta might have been sent out to tell him this tale, and he was the one being set up for the big surprise. With that in mind, he held his Winchester ready with a thought of shooting her first, if this was a setup. He hoped to hell it wasn’t.

  When they got to the steps, Etta turned to him and whispered, “You ready?” He nodded, his rifle cocked and ready to fire. She stepped up and tried the handle. It was still locked, so she rapped hard on the door and yelled, “Unlock the damn door!”

  In a matter of seconds, they heard the sound of boots running across the kitchen floor, and then a voice she identified as Jace’s. “Is that you, Etta?”

  “Well, who the hell do you think it is?” she came back at him. “Whadja lock the door for? I had to take a dump.” She looked back at Will and nodded confidently.

  There was a long moment of decision before they heard the bolt thrown open. Will grabbed her elbow, pulled her off the step and pointed toward the smokehouse. She needed no more encouragement and ran as fast as she could manage. Will stepped inside the screen door and braced himself to launch his body into whoever opened the door. He stood, poised for attack, his rifle ready until, finally, the handle turned slowly, so slowly that he realized the man on the other side of the door was not taking any chances. At last the door began to open, but for only a few inches, and Will could see just half of a face as Jace attempted to peek out to make sure Etta was alone. Before he could get a good look, Will threw his shoulder against the door and crashed into the kitchen, knocking Jace backward to stumble against the stove. He yelped in pain as he rolled across the hot surface, still holding on to his pistol when he hit the floor. In a panic, he fired a bullet that buried itself over the door, then cocked his weapon quickly, leaving Will no choice. He pumped one round into Jace’s chest, quickly cranking another ready to fire but held up when Jace dropped back, finished. I didn’t have a choice, Will told himself, his eyes fixed on the door to the saloon, expecting Cobb to come through it at any second.

  There was no sound at all from the large room beyond the door for what seemed a long, long time. Will hurried to stand beside the open door, where he listened for sounds of movement that would indicate Cobb was advancing toward him. Finally, he heard Cobb call out, “Jace, you all right?”

  “Jace is dead,” Will answered him. “He made a mistake and paid for it. Now I’m givin’ you a chance to surrender, so you don’t get the same as he got.” Standing beside the door, he could see the bar at the other side of the saloon. He drew his rifle up, steadied it against the doorjamb, and aimed at the oak counter. After a few long seconds with no response from behind the counter, he called out again. “What about it, Cobb? You ready to throw your gun out and walk away from here alive?”

  “I’ll tell you what, Tanner,” Cobb answered. “Why don’t you come on out here and arrest me?” Will saw the rifle suddenly appear on the top of the bar and jumped back just before a .44 slug embedded itself in the doorframe. Will popped back out long enough to throw a shot at the rifle but was not quick enough to hit it as it was jerked back behind the bar. In rapid succession, they repeated the exchange of shots, with neither man able to get a clean shot.

  “We’re just wastin’ time and ammunition,” Will said. “It’s just a matter of time. You’re either gonna walk outta here under arrest or get carried outta here to a shallow grave. You can’t stay hunkered down behind that bar forever, and the only way out is by me. So whaddaya say, Cobb, you ready to play it smart?” He knew it would be a desperate chance, but he was not willing to carry on this standoff all night long. And as conditions stood at the moment, he could imagine it might go on that long, with the first one to run out of ammunition the loser. So he called out once more. “I’m gonna need you to throw out that rifle and your handgun, too. Make it easy on yourself.” He was hoping to bait Cobb into talking, causing his own distraction.

  “I gotta hand it to ya, Tanner, I’m damn surprised you was able to get past Jace. He was a good man. But now you’re dealin’ with somebody who eats lawmen for supper.” Suddenly, he pushed his rifle up on the bar again and fired another round at the kitchen door, hoping to catch Will off guard. After the slug whistled through the open door, Will returned fire.

  It’s now or never, Will told himself then, when he thought he could hear Cobb reloading. He pulled his boots off, and with his rifle aimed at the counter, he tiptoed out the door and across the room to drop quietly on one knee against the face of the bar. The sound of Cobb mumbling encouragement to himself as he finished reloading his rifle, told Will he had not been heard. At the sound of Cobb cranking in a new cartri
dge, Will laid his rifle on the floor, carefully, so as not to make a sound. With both hands free, he raised slightly to a crouch and waited for Cobb to pop up again to fire another round at the kitchen door. He had to be quick, so as soon as he heard the rifle hit the top of the bar, he sprang up and grabbed it by the barrel. Startled, Cobb’s natural reaction was to pull the trigger, sending a shot across the room to strike the opposite wall. Then, fighting to hold on to his rifle, he tried to pull it away from Will until Will suddenly shoved the rifle back at Cobb, causing the butt to catch Cobb in the face, stunning him momentarily. It was long enough for Will to jerk the weapon free of Cobb’s hands. Desperate now, Cobb lunged halfway across the counter at Will. But Will, still holding the rifle by the barrel, swung it like an ax, knocking the crazed outlaw to the floor. Will quickly looked over the counter to see Cobb lying apparently unconscious on the floor. Wasting no time, he moved around the end of the counter to make sure. Just as he rounded the end of the bar, Cobb suddenly rolled over with his revolver in his hand. There was no time to think—natural reaction took over. Will sent the bullet, already cocked and ready, into his chest. Cobb was dead when he pulled the trigger that sent a shot within inches of Will’s ear.

  Feeling suddenly exhausted, Will knelt down beside the body to make sure Cobb didn’t spring up again. When it was obvious that he was dead, Will took a few moments to consider the course of attack he had just completed. It worked out in his favor, but he admitted to himself that he had been lucky. It could have just as easily worked out in Cobb’s favor. That might have canceled your wedding plans for sure, Sophie. The thought sprang into his mind completely unexpected at a time like this. It caused him to pause a moment and decide that Sophie’s mother was right when she said it was a mistake for her daughter to marry a deputy marshal. As before, when the subject popped into his mind, he found himself agreeing with Ruth Bennett. He had to wonder what he’d do if he found himself in a similar confrontation as this one after he was married. Would he have a tendency to play it safer—maybe even backing off? Then he remembered he had promised to leave the service after he and Sophie married. He was saved from further thoughts of it when he heard Teddy calling from the back door. “Cobb, are you all right?”