Bad Blood: Lucius Dodge and the Redlands War (Lucius Dodge Westerns Book 2)

by J. Lee Butts

  "It's hotter'n hell under an iron skillet today, Boz. We go over there, interrupt the man's drinking, and we just might get him stirred up enough to start swapping lead. You sure you really want to brace him?"

  "No, but we ain't got much choice in the matter, do we, amigo?"

  "Guess not."

  He grinned, stood, adjusted his weapons to a comfortable position, and hopped off the porch. "Come on, Lucius. Bring that short-barreled blaster, the ten-gauge. We've been sitting in the shade long enough. Might as well go pick a fight and, if ole Icy gets bulled up and the wax pops out of his ears, I want you to be able to splatter him all over at least three walls of the Matador."

  13

  "MURDER AIN'T MUCH OF A LIVING"

  GOT A SHADE over halfway across the dusty street when Boz stopped and said, "This time we'll play it a bit different. Kinda like that bank in Lone Pine. I'll wait by the front door, while you make your way to the back. Most likely, Winters picked the same table where we found Casper Longstreet sitting—the one in the far corner."

  "Do we want to keep him seated?"

  "Yeah. Make it harder for him to do much of anything. Door back there opens up on his left. Once I'm inside, you should detect the sound of me stomping around and such. You come in as soon as you hear me get close to the table. Couple of Rangers bracin' ole Icy ought to catch his undivided attention."

  Played out exactly the way Boz wanted. Heard him clomp his way to Winters's corner. I pushed the door open, and stepped inside. Pulled it closed as quick as I could to let my eyes adjust to the low light. When our newest man-killer came into focus, his shifty-eyed stare raced back and forth from Boz to me.

  Well-known eradicator of men seemed calm as a dipper of creek water when he said, "Do something for you fellers?"

  Boz smiled. I followed his hard gaze back to the gunman. Couldn't believe the silly mistake Winters had made. His custom-built weapon of choice stood in the corner, just about a fingertip's worth out of reach. I immediately felt a lot better about the whole situation. Figured if he made the slightest move toward the big popper, I could cut him apart like a stick of cheap baloney before he got halfway there.

  Boz said, "Just wanted to chew the fat a spell, Icy."

  Killer cut his eyes toward the shotgun again. "You know who I am, lawdog?"

  "Your bloody reputation precedes you, Mr. Winters," I said.

  "Ain't doin' nothin' wrong, Rangers. Just stopped in for a little somethin' to cut the dust. Rode hard to get here. My employer wanted me in town as quick as I could make it."

  Boz stiffened. "And who might your employer be?"

  "Local gent name of Tingwell sent word for me to bum leather getting here. Also provided me with a sizable retainer. Requested the performance of my unique services, should they be needed."

  "Sent a sizable retainer for your 'unique services,' did he?" Boz spit what he said onto the table like a man confronted by something so disgusting it almost made him ill.

  Winters flashed an emotionless grin and said, "Man's gotta make a living, Ranger."

  Boz placed a booted foot in the chair facing Winters, leaned over on his raised knee, and sounded almost conspiratorial when he said, "Murder ain't much of a living, Icy. We've had more'n our share of it here in Iron Bluff over the past few weeks. Upwards of half-a-dozen men done been caught short, and are deader'n hell in a Baptist preacher's backyard."

  "Ain't nothing to me. I just rode into town."

  "We've got pistol fighters and killers roaming the streets shooting folks down at will, and someone lynched a couple of cowboys a few miles outside town. Now you've shown up. Man of your exalted reputation tends to get our undivided attention. Makes hardworking lawmen like us wonder what might happen next."

  "Ain't never kilt no one what didn't deserve to get dead, Ranger. I didn't come looking for no trouble. But be well aware that should it seek me out, I'll do whatever is necessary to make sure I'm not the one left in the street starin' at the sky from a pair of unblinking eyes."

  Thought I'd see just how far I could push the man, so I said, "Hell, Boz, let's kill him now. Save ourselves all the trouble of having to do it later."

  I'm certain my startling declaration surprised Boz, but I had my gaze fixed on Winters. Man's eyes flicked back and forth between the two of us real fast. Then his nerved-up glance darted toward the big Greener again. Figured he was trying to gauge how many times we could hit him before he managed to return fire. Right certain he came to the conclusion we'd turn him into a sieve if he moved.

  Murdering snake leaned forward and placed his open palms on the table. Said, "I'll say it again. Ain't lookin' for no trouble. As you can see, ain't even properly armed. You boys appear to be upright, God-fearin' types to me. Have serious doubts you'd shoot an innocent man th'out givin' him a chance."

  A low chuckle clawed its way to Boz's throat. "Don't bet your life on it, Winters. My partner here, Lucius "By God" Dodge, would just soon kill you as spit—if I tell him he can. Besides, the only innocent period of your life was sometime before your fourteenth birthday. Seems I recall that year being about the time you killed your first man, over in Uvalde. Used a nine-inch butcher's knife on him, if memory serves. Carved him up like a Christmas turkey."

  Our newest badman in town got to squirming around in his chair like someone had lit a fire on the floor under his seat. Saw his lip quiver when he said, "Wait a minute now. Let's don't get too hasty here. I'm just a man tryin' to get by. Sell my services to make enough money so I can eat. No need for you boys to take a testy stance with me yet. Maybe someday down the road, but not right now."

  Boz turned to me again. "Could be he's right, Lucius. Reckon we'll let Mr. Winters go his way." He motioned me to the door. We backed out through the saloon's batwings. As we hit the boardwalk, turned, and headed for the jail, Boz said, "Mighty nervy move you made back there, Lucius. Damn near scared me slap to death. But you know, I think we just mighta put a smidgen of the fear of God in Mr. Icy Winters. And when it comes right down to the nut-cutting, every little bit helps."

  We strolled over to Doc Adamson's office and told Rip all about our most recent version of boot-wearing shotgun-toting hell. He reacted about the same way Boz had.

  "Wouldn't have no trouble killin' him outright myself," he said. Course his suggestion sounded like a fine idea to me.

  Later that evening, Boz and I watched Winters mosey out of town. Little doubt he was headed for Tingwell's ranch. Boz said, "Be willing to bet an iron nickel against a Tennessee walking horse, ole Bull will have his crew back in town raisin' hell soon as he and Icy have come to an agreement on price."

  "Would be something of a relief if a few of the hired gunfighters on either side got their comeuppance, don't you think? So far only people who've managed to get dead have been run-of-the-mill cowboys who couldn't hit a seventeen-hand hay-burner from ten feet away."

  "You mean with the exception of Morgan Tingwell, don't you, Lucius?"

  "Yeah. Keep forgetting about him."

  "Think it best you keep his cold corpse somewhere near the front part of your memory. Personally, I don't believe we've heard the last of his unfortunate departure for hell's front gate."

  We ragged around on the thing and worried over it some more, but a week went by—and nothing happened. Got so quiet around town at night you could smell the odor of uneasy silence. Boz allowed as how the number of honest-to-God man-killers on either side of the problem might have brought things to a much-desired standoff. Amazing how a feller's mind can lull him into such foolish thinking.

  We'd stopped to chew the fat with Horace Breedlove, one hotter'n green-eyed hell morning, when a bunch of kids who'd been down on the river fishing ran up. They were all barefoot, dragged cane poles, and talked a mile a minute. Took us a spell to calm them down. Boz finally had to pull one out of the group and just talk with him.

  "Now what's the problem, son?"

  Boy could barely catch his breath. Appeared he and the others had
run all the way from the Angelina. "We wuz a-fishing in ole man Bronson's stock tank, just off the river, 'bout three miles out of town toward Mr. Pitt's ranch. Caught a nice little mess of sunfish on worms and wuz on our way back home. Ran upon this dead feller in the ditch."

  "Where'd you see him?" I asked.

  Towheaded boy snatched a chewed-up straw hat from his near-white-haired noggin, scratched, and said, "Oh, near three miles out on the west side of the road, Ranger. We'd walked up the east side going. Didn't see him then. Can't miss him comin' back, though. He's a-layin' on his back a-starin' at the sky like he expected to spot angels comin' down from heaven or somethin'."

  "Have you ever seen him before?" Boz asked.

  Boy puzzled over the question long enough to slap the hat back on his head and said, "Think so. He mighta been one of Mr. Pitt's riders. Seems like I seen him a-comin' outta the Fin and Feather, wunst or twicest. Some of them other cowboys mighta called him Arlo. Yeah, that's his name, Arlo."

  Boz and I saddled up. Headed out as fast as we could. I told Ruby to stay inside till we got back. Kids pinpointed the dead man's location within a few steps. He fell exactly the way they'd described. No observable wounds on the body till Boz rolled him over. Bunched-up gob of lead from a scattergun had punched a hole in his back the size of my fist. All that shot damned near blew the shirt and vest he wore to ribbons.

  Boz knelt beside the body, wiped sweat from his dripping brow, and said, "Jesus. Winters must've been right on top of the boy when he blasted hell out of him. This poor brush-popper never knew what hit him."

  "Are we sure Winters did the killing?" I asked.

  Boz shrugged. "Who else could have, or would have, for that matter? Hell, we talked about his methods the other day when he came into town. Arlo's murder fits right into the stories I've heard for years. Icy hits town, men start dying right and left. Bet this murder is just the beginning."

  "You think Romulus Pitt will stand still for the continued bushwhacking of his men like this?"

  "Not damned likely. Soon as he finds out that another of his boys has been murdered, he'll have Fox and Clements out looking for bloody revenge. Feud's been a hot'n so far, Lucius, but I'm afraid this war's about to get a lot hotter."

  We gathered up the dead cow-chaser's still-leaking corpse. Loaded him across the saddle of my horse. I rode back to town behind Boz. Had barely passed the jail when we noticed a lot of fevered activity around Doc Adamson's office.

  Boz said, "Hell's bells, that ain't a good sign by a damned sight."

  Hermione Blackstock ran up. Between the running and the crying, poor woman had trouble catching her breath. Took a spell before we were able to make out something like, "He shot her. Right in front of my café."

  "What are you trying to say, Hermione?" I asked. "Who got shot?"

  Took another second or so before she barely breathed, "Ruby. She came over from the jail and asked me to fix her something light for lunch. Bull Tingwell came storming up." Hermione clutched her throat. "Shot her while we stood on the boardwalk talking. Crazy old coot yelled, 'That's for killing my son, you hell-spawned bitch.' She fell right at my feet. Doc's got her over in his office. It looks bad, Lucius, real bad."

  Dropped my reins into Boz's outstretched hand and heeled it down the street. Hit Doc Adamson's door like a battering ram. He made a grab for me as I stumbled toward Ruby's limp body. Sweet God Almighty! Appeared to me as though her life had sprayed onto everything the eye could behold. Rip helped Doc shove me back to the boardwalk.

  Adamson leaned against my chest with both hands and said, "You've got to stay out here, Lucius. She's been badly hurt, and if I can't stop the bleeding—she's going to die. Do you understand me, son?" Man's words fell on my heart like an anvil dropped from heaven.

  Rip tried to reassure me when he added, "He's doin' what he can, Lucius. You can't help. Let the man get back to savin' her."

  Over the years, I've come to the firm belief there's just nothing to match the agony of waiting to find out if someone you love will live or die. I'd met Ruby under the strangest of circumstances. Fallen for her in an equally outlandish way, instigated by the girl herself. In truth, we barely knew each other. None of that mattered. My feelings for her were just as intense as those of any man who'd known the woman he loved for a lifetime. Now, those feelings had been turned against me by the insane act of a man determined to bring about the death, or destruction, of anyone other than his own family.

  Boz and I sat in chairs outside Doc's office. Boz said, "She'll be fine, Lucius. I have complete confidence in Adamson's ability. Besides, you two were meant for each other. I could tell it the first time I saw her look at you."

  "You've no idea how true that statement is, Boz."

  "What do you mean, I've no idea?"

  Turned, and tried to nail him to his seat with a hard-eyed stare. "You must promise not to tell Ruby what I'm about to say. Got to promise, Boz, or I can't let out a word about something I've never told anyone see the light of day."

  A strange look settled on his craggy face as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Okay. I promise. Won't tell anyone, especially Ruby."

  "Well, some years ago an old woman people called Witch Hazel lived in a shack out on a bayou off the North Fork of the Bosque River, about ten miles from Waco."

  Never knew Boz Tatum had a fear of haints and such, but he said, "Sweet Jesus, witches scare the hell out of me, Lucius. You had nothin' to do with her, did you, son?" Then he performed some strange hand signs as if to ward off evil spirits.

  "Kinda. Me and a friend went out sneaking around her house one night. Old lady caught me. Grabbed my ear and almost twisted it off. Dragged me into her house. Thought for sure she was going to cook me up like a jackrabbit in her stew pot."

  "Oh, God, I would have died right on the spot. Done been buried for more years than I've been alive if a witch got hold of me." More hand signs. Then he went to spitting in every direction of the compass. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. For a second I thought he'd had some kind of fit, or maybe a stroke, but he finally came back.

  "Well, she sat me down in front of this big stone fireplace. Said, 'Don't you move now, boy, lest I says you can. You hear.' Damn near scared the bejabbers out of me."

  "Done went and put a hex on you, didn't she, Lucius? Paralyzed your dumb little ass with an unspoken curse."

  "No. She merely scared the strength out of my spindly legs. Anyway, she pulled a Bible up off the floor. Biggest Bible I ever saw. Monstrous thing bound in tooled leather with a wooden cross attached to the front. She sat it on a squatty piece of table between us and said, 'Open the Book, boy.' "

  Honestly, I thought Boz would pass out right in front of me. "Oh, no. Here comes the bad news. I just know it."

  "Not quite. She pointed at the Bible and said, 'Run your finger along the page and stop anywhere you feel the urge, but don't look.' "

  "Did you do it?"

  "Of course I did."

  "Then what?"

  "I stopped, and she said, 'Read from where your finger landed.' So I read it. Never forgot what it said. Short passage was from Revelations. 'I will give him the morning star.' Ole Witch Hazel stiffened up like a petrified fence post. Almost fell out of her chair, right onto the floor."

  "That it? She let you go then?"

  "No. Crazed woman grabbed my hand, turned it over, and started tracing the lines with the broken nail of a knotted finger. Staked me to the chair with a pair of the bluest eyes I've ever seen and said, 'One day you'll meet a beautiful, red-haired angel. She will come to you during a most queer and deadly time. You must cleave to her. She is the morning star. But never forget, stars disappear when the sun comes up. Now, git, before I'm forced to skin you alive and stretch your hide over my windows to keep out the bad weather.' "

  "Witches' curses. Witches' curses. Always made it a point to stay away from them kind of batty women. My ole granny told me long ago that such folk were in league with Satan himself. Ain't had
no lingering bad effects from your visit, have you, Lucius?" A strange look came over him as he stared at me. For a second, I felt as though I'd grown another head during our conversation.

  "Well, there is one thing. Sometimes, late at night, I can still hear that old woman's cackling laughter in my brain as I ran from her ramshackle cabin."

  More outlandish hand signs and spitting. "Sweet Merciful Father, Lucius."

  "Nothing to it until now, Boz. In fact, I'd not so much as given the event a second's worth of consideration until recently. All of a sudden the predictions of that strange and eventful night, so long ago, have come back to the forefront of my thoughts. No doubt about it, Witch Hazel was right, Boz. Ruby is the morning star. Exactly the way she promised the girl to me."

  Boz muttered something that sounded like, "Harrumph, harrumph, harrumph," then lapsed into silence. Got the impression he didn't want to talk about witches, or other such phantasms, any further. Guess if the circumstances had played out even the slightest bit different. it would have been humorous. Longer I thought on his odd behavior, the more potential for funning with him emerged, but I decided to let it pass until another time.

  We waited. Took Doc Adamson near three hours of serious doctor work before he came out and told us we could come inside and see Ruby.

  Boz said, "You go ahead, Lucius. Don't imagine the girl needs two of us yammerin' at her at the same time. Talk with her, if you can. I'll wait here."

  Doc pulled at my sleeve as I turned toward the door. He said, "From what I've heard, witnesses saw Bull Tingwell fire at least four times before he put the spur to his animal. He hit Ruby twice. She must have been turned kind of sideways. One bullet grazed the back of her head. Didn't do much damage, but the crease it left bled plenty—typical of scalp wounds."

  "And the other?"

  Adamson rubbed his brow with a shaking hand. I noticed black blood caked under his fingernails. He said, "The second punched through the fleshy part of her upper left arm, nicked a rib, and lodged inside her chest. I had a tough time locating it. Hadn't been for going through her arm, the slug would probably have killed her outright. Took me some serious knife work to get that bullet out. No doubt about it, mighty touchy situation, Lucius. Recovery could take months—maybe more. No way to foretell the outcome. Just have to pray for the best. She's weak from loss of so much blood, so don't stay long."