by Scott Connor
‘At least he didn’t see us,’ Jeff said. ‘Let’s hope he finishes talking soon and leaves.’
Nathan considered the wagon, noting the heaped bags and stacked crates on the back.
‘Or that he carries on talking for long enough for us to get on that wagon.’
Nathan grabbed Jeff’s arm and tugged, then ran off alongside the wall.
They reached the gates where they were behind the wagon and so out of view of both the driver and the man he was talking to. To approach the wagon on a route that would keep them unseen by these men, they’d have to risk being in full view of anyone in the fort who was looking through the gates.
Nathan was stealing himself to see whether anyone was in the parade-ground when the man returned to his building and, with a holler from the driver, the wagon trundled off. As what was probably their only chance to escape from the fort moved away, without checking what was behind them, Nathan sprinted off.
Jeff tore along with him and before the wagon built up speed they reached it and rolled over the tailboard to land in the wagon.
They faced a block of crates, but Nathan found a gap between the two central crates. He crawled through it to emerge on the other side where he pressed himself up against a pile of corn-sacks.
Jeff lay on his side to wriggle in and with Nathan tugging his shoulders and with him kicking his way on, he squeezed through the gap to join him. The two men shuffled into the most comfortable positions they could find and considered each other.
‘Anyone see us?’ Nathan asked, smiling hopefully.
‘I didn’t look back,’ Jeff whispered, drawing his knees up to his chin. ‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough.’
Both men stayed quiet, listening to the wheels trundling round. Nathan reckoned a minute of uninterrupted travel would tell them that the driver hadn’t realized they’d stowed away and that nobody from the fort had seen them climb on board either.
That minute passed slowly and so did the next.
Nathan and Jeff were just smiling and placing their hands to their hearts in mock relief, when a voice cut through the rattling of the wheels.
‘Stop right there!’ the stentorian voice intoned.
‘Since when have you had the right to order me around?’ another voice said from ahead, presumably the driver’s.
An arrogant snort sounded. ‘Mayor Decker’s orders.’
The wheels slowed to a halt making them lower their heads, wincing as they awaited their inevitable capture.
‘Orders or no orders, I’ve still got a delivery to make in Hope Creek today and Providence tomorrow.’
An irritated grunt sounded and through the thin sliver that was available to Nathan’s view, he saw a horse trot past.
‘You still can make those deliveries.’ The voice now sounded as if the rider was standing alongside the driver. ‘I just need to ask you a few questions.’
In the wagon, Jeff mouthed that they hadn’t been seen, after all. This man was just checking up on everybody who left the fort.
Nathan nodded then shuffled down to press himself into the sacks, as did Jeff, as they maximized their chances that a quick search would fail to reveal them.
‘Then hurry up and ask those questions.’
‘Two outlaws broke Kenton Taylor out of jail last night, but they didn’t get away. Have you seen them?’
The driver snorted a laugh. ‘So it’s true. They broke him out of jail, but couldn’t get themselves out of the fort. What kind of idiots are they?’
‘The kind that are still at large and they’re formidable. They fought their way into the jailhouse, defeated Sheriff Buckthorn in a fierce gun battle, and broke Kenton out.’
‘You said all that with a straight face. What really happened? Did Buckthorn drink himself into a stupor and Kenton just walked out?’
‘The official story is that two desperados broke him out, and don’t forget it.’
There was a short pause, then the driver laughed, the other man joining him.
‘I won’t, but don’t you worry about me. I’ve got a gun and if I meet the men who were formidable enough to defeat Sheriff Buckthorn, I reckon as I can defend myself.’
‘You do that,’ the man said with laughter in his tone. He lowered his voice. ‘But just remember – they’re still outlaws, called Nathan Palmer and Jeff Morgan. Tell everyone you meet that Mayor Decker is offering two hundred dollars a head on them.’
Then he swung his horse past the wagon and hoofs clopped as he headed back to the fort. The wagon lurched to a start and headed off again.
After having had several false hopes of escape dashed, Nathan steeled himself for the man to return or for someone else to chase after them, but ten minutes passed without them being called back.
Only then did he relax and risk smiling at Jeff.
‘It looks like we’ve made it,’ Nathan whispered, with a mock wipe of the sweat from his brow.
‘Yeah,’ Jeff said. He edged to the side to look through the gap, back towards the fort. ‘And we learnt something from that exchange.’
‘I know.’ Nathan joined Jeff in peering through the gap between the crates. They were now at least a mile from the fort. ‘We’re wanted man.’
Jeff flinched back to consider him. ‘Nathan, I’ve heard that tone before and that had better be the last time. We can’t go back to the fort to get the money, or to free the prisoner, or to do whatever other plans are going on in that curious mind of yours.’
Nathan continued to look at the fort, imagining what it would be like to be the man imprisoned in the tower, then shook himself and looked away.
‘Yeah, we can’t go back to the fort,’ he said.
Chapter Eight
Muscle-rending cramps had set in when the driver spoke for the first time in a while. Nathan didn’t hear his words as the driver called out to someone, and shortly afterwards a rider passed going in the opposite direction.
Presently, another rider passed, the sudden bustle around them suggesting they were closing on Hope Creek.
They had been travelling for most of the day, with the driver making only brief stops. They hadn’t dared to use those stops to move positions and although sacks and crates of edibles surrounded them, their raging thirsts were controlling their thoughts.
Both men had agreed they wouldn’t come out until they reached somewhere where they could seek proper shelter. As they passed a building and then another, they shuffled closer to each other.
‘Is Hope Creek far enough away from the fort?’ Jeff whispered.
Nathan clapped his parched mouth then rubbed his calves again.
‘The only thing on my mind is whether thirst or cramps are going to kill me first. I reckon we’ve got no choice but to hope it is.’
‘Then what?’ Jeff raised his eyebrows.
‘If you’re asking me whether I want to go back to Fort Benton, then I’ll say we just have to forget we ever got the key or heard about the money or saw the man in the tower.’ Nathan watched Jeff sigh with relief then leaned forward. ‘But not just yet.’
Jeff winced. ‘Why not?’
‘Because we’re wanted men, and that means we’ve got to put right what we did wrong by finding Kenton Taylor and taking him back to the law.’
Jeff’s eyebrows shot up. ‘In Fort Benton?’
‘No, just to the nearest law, but we can’t go back to our old way of life with a wanted notice following us around.’
‘That won’t be healthy, but we haven’t got much chance of finding him with no money, no guns, no horses and with everyone after us.’ Jeff sat up straight. ‘So we have to put him out of our minds and find some honest work instead.’
Nathan considered Jeff’s firm jaw and despite his reluctance to agree, he had to admit he’d taken most of the recent decisions and they’d all been bad ones.
He nodded and with that agreement, they shuffled through the gap in the crates to the back of the wagon.
They had reached Hope Creek�
�s main drag. As nobody was out on the length of dirt they could see, they rolled out of the wagon and ran to a halt. Then they stood crouched, slowly righting themselves and freeing the creaks from their bones.
They straightened as the wagon drew away, but half-way down the main drag it stopped outside a store. So they shuffled away to lean back against the nearest wall and chatted animatedly, as they tried to create the impression they had been in town for some time.
They hadn’t been talking for long when the only movement out on the main drag drew their gazes.
Outside the livery stables, a rider was dismounting. Then he went into the stables, pausing just long enough to let his horse dunk its head in a trough beside the doors.
They headed across the main drag and, without embarrassment, dunked their heads in the rank water, oblivious to the scum as they enjoyed the coolness. Only when the bitter taste was making them gag did they tear themselves away.
While Jeff rescued his hat from the trough and slopped it back on his head, Nathan looked into the stables.
Horses were lined up in the stalls and far more than he’d expect in such a small town. The man who had just entered was leading his horse into a stall at the far end and either the stable-owner was elsewhere or this man was the owner, because nobody emerged to help him.
As the man located a bag of corn, Nathan pointed him out to Jeff, who without preamble headed inside.
‘Do you know who owns this fine establishment?’ he called out.
‘I do,’ the man said, without turning, then introduced himself as Quincy Lackey, the owner.
Jeff embarked on his speech about looking for work, this time with sincerity, but Quincy shook his head. So Jeff turned away, but Nathan didn’t join him.
Half-way down the row of stalls one horse had caught his attention – his own. It even had his saddle-bag dangling over the back of the stall.
‘You may not want our help,’ he said, setting his feet wide apart, ‘but we’re interested to know where you got that horse.’
Quincy broke off from tending to his horse to pace across the stables. He stood before them and considered their threadbare and disheveled state then their wet clothes.
Nathan pointed his horse out and Jeff followed his gaze, then slammed his wide hands on his hips and joined Nathan in glaring at Quincy.
Quincy flicked the merest of glances at the horse, then considered both men’s belligerent stances without any sign of concern crossing his blank expression.
‘My sources are my concern.’
‘Horse-thieving is a mighty serious offence.’ Nathan edged a pace to the side as if he were about to leave. ‘Perhaps we ought to find a lawman and see what he has to say.’
‘Perhaps you should, because earlier today I heard that two desperados broke an outlaw out of Fort Benton’s jail. I can ask that lawman if he reckons those men are you.’
Nathan firmed his jaw. ‘You can, because from what I’ve heard, those men are only looking at a stretch in jail, but a horse-thief is looking at a stretched neck.’ Nathan paced up to Quincy and met his gaze. ‘So I ask you again – where did you get that horse?’
For long moments the two men stared at each. With the icy conviction brought on by the traumatic events of the last day behind Nathan’s gaze, and with Jeff looming at his shoulder, Quincy was the first to look away.
‘I bought that steed in good faith.’
‘Then perhaps you’d like to sell it back to me in good faith.’
Quincy nodded. ‘How much are you offering?’
Nathan tipped out his pockets. ‘Nothing. You see the man you bought it off stole everything we had.’
‘Then I can’t help you.’ Quincy turned away.
‘We must be able to reach an agreement,’ Jeff said, striding forward to stand before Nathan.
Quincy turned back then let his gaze rise to consider Jeff, who lifted his heels to peer down at Quincy from an even greater height. He even flexed his arms and fists for added encouragement.
Quincy flinched then backed away a pace to look down the stables, a foot tapping on the ground. He smiled.
‘Perhaps there is one way,’ he said.
Chapter Nine
They had been riding since first light and it’d require the rest of the day before they’d reach Shinbone. Quincy rode up front while Nathan and Jeff rode behind him.
Yesterday, Quincy had given them a place to sleep and a meal, and his offer to return Nathan’s horse if they helped him deliver fifteen horses to Shinbone had been a fair one they couldn’t decline.
‘What are you looking so pleased about?’ Nathan asked when he noticed that Jeff was grinning.
Jeff glanced ahead to confirm Quincy was too far ahead to hear him.
‘We’re doing honest work again, and that sure feels good.’
Nathan shrugged making Jeff give him a long look, but Nathan ignored him and later, when they drew up to water the horses and take a break, Nathan dragged Quincy into conversation.
Before long, he steered him round to talking about Fort Benton.
‘You deal much with the fort?’ he asked.
‘Mainly with Shinbone and Providence, and further east,’ Quincy said.
‘Fort not a profitable place, then?’
Jeff flashed Nathan the kind of wide-eyed glare Nathan gave to Jeff when he was being unsubtle.
Quincy considered his answer before frowning.
‘You’re mighty interested about Fort Benton.’
‘Curious you could say.’
Jeff snorted to himself as Quincy looked off down the trail towards Shinbone, then back towards Hope Creek and Fort Benton.
‘I hired you boys because I took you on your word that you weren’t outlaws, but I’ll tell you this: if you aim to bushwhack me, neither of you have a gun, and I can take care of myself.’ He flashed a smile. ‘If that wasn’t your intent, then remember I did buy your horse off Kenton Taylor, knowing he was running from the law, so I won’t turn you in.’
Nathan nodded, avoiding displaying any emotion.
‘That’s mighty generous of you if you were to come across those men. There’s a two-hundred-dollar bounty on each man.’
Quincy leaned towards Nathan and winked.
‘There is, but I don’t like who I’d have to collect it off, and I don’t reckon many people would believe they’ll see that money if they were to find those ruthless outlaws.’ Quincy looked them up and down, a smile twitching his lips.
Nathan sighed. ‘Well, I can tell you one thing for sure – we aren’t no ruthless outlaws!’
‘You aren’t or I wouldn’t have hired you, but you did come from Fort Benton and you were hungry and desperate. Kenton Taylor looked even more desperate. I guess I owed you something after dealing with him.’
‘You did.’
‘I’ll take that for an admittance you are those men.’ Quincy tipped back his hat. ‘What happened? Did Kenton break out of jail on his own while Sheriff Buckthorn was in a drunken stupor and you two just happened to be the nearest to the jailhouse?’
‘I guess that pretty much sums it up.’ Nathan shrugged. ‘From what I saw, Mayor Decker was in control there. I can’t see why he accepts having such an incompetent sheriff.’
‘He needs a fool like him around so he can run things the way he wants. The way he’s buying up every scrap of land, all for the lowest price a bit of healthy intimidation can get him, it won’t be long before he’s running his own empire in Fort Benton.’
‘If he’s that ruthless, does that mean Kenton Taylor might not be the man who killed Frank Reed?’
‘I’ve got no idea, but that’s what I’ll tell my conscience.’
Nathan frowned. ‘How would anyone take on Decker?’
As Quincy considered his answer, Jeff jumped to his feet, but Nathan avoided meeting his eye.
‘My advice would be to just stay away from him.’ Quincy paused when Jeff grunted his agreement, before continuing. ‘You boys are wante
d men, but nobody but Decker will pursue you for it. I reckon you should just think yourself lucky you escaped from Fort Benton and keep on heading away. Now, we’ve got some horses to get to Shinbone by sundown.’
Quincy stood up and paced away, leaving Jeff looking at Nathan.
‘Like the man said,’ Jeff said. ‘We should think ourselves lucky and concentrate on getting these horses to Shinbone.’
Nathan removed the key from his pocket. Then he opened his hand and let the key fall to the ground.
‘I’ve had enough of Fort Benton, too,’ he said. ‘I just had to know about the situation back there before I could move on.’
Jeff slapped Nathan’s arm then headed to the horses.
Nathan watched him and when he was sure he wouldn’t look back, he swooped down and scooped up the key.
Chapter Ten
Night was drawing in by the time they rode into Shinbone.
Nathan had done plenty of thinking and although he’d kept the key, with every mile they put between themselves and Fort Benton, the urge to return lessened and the events of the last few days felt less important.
So when they’d taken the horses to their destination on the outskirts of Shinbone, and Quincy had headed into the stables to complete his dealings, Nathan fingered the key in his pocket with embarrassment.
He vowed that when his friend was looking elsewhere, he would dispose of it, and he had no problem in answering honestly when Jeff asked what was worrying him.
‘I’ve finally accepted you’re right,’ he said. ‘Once we have my horse back, we’ll get on it, ride on out of here and keep going until we find work. And we won’t look back.’
Jeff raised his hands high then slapped them down on his thighs.
‘I sure am pleased to hear that, at last.’ He patted Nathan’s back. ‘Honest work and no worrying about other people’s gunfights, and money hidden in forts, and prisoners in cells, and prisoners in towers is just about right for us.’
Nathan nodded and together they waited for Quincy to come out. Presently, Quincy left the stables, tucking a wad of bills into his pocket and beaming.