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

by J. Lee Butts

  Stonehill snatched off his hat, then shook his head like a tired dog and said, "Pitt's crew. Bet he'll be paying you boys a visit shortly."

  Words had barely passed his lips when we heard the older Pitt call from the street. "Got business with you Rangers. Step on out. Let's talk."

  Boz glanced around the room. "Shotguns for everyone." Stonehill grabbed one down from his gun rack. Boz said, "You don't have to go out with us if you don't want to, Rip. Lucius and I can handle it."

  Thorn acted insulted. "Damned if I'm gonna stay inside with all this stuff happenin'."

  Checked the loads in my weapon and said, "You've got to stay with Tingwell, Rip. You're our last line of defense. Pitt and his gang of killers gets past us, you'll have to keep them away from the old man, or kill him. Personally, I'd go with killin' him."

  Could tell Rip cared not a lick for my assessment, but he simply nodded his agreement, headed to the cell block, and locked the inner door behind him. Heard him tell Tingwell, "Don't worry, Bull. If any of Pitt's crew gets past the door, you'll be just fine—real dead, but fine."

  Stonehill said, "I'll stand with you boys. Guess now's as good a time as any for Pitt to know I'm no longer with him. Besides, I've been ready for a return to my sworn duties as marshal of Iron Bluff for a long time now. Let's do it."

  I pulled the door open, and the three of us gingerly moved onto the jail's rough-cut plank porch. Six barrels of buckshot leveled up on Pitt's pack of quarrelsome dogs. Romulus sat on his tall horse between Nick Fox and Alvin Clements. Eli and Pruitt held places behind their father, as though to guard his back. At least ten other riders surrounded the group's central core of leaders.

  Entire front rank of the heavily armed group looked a bit surprised when Stonehill took the spot on Boz's left. Restless stir of uneasiness spread through the congregation like Beelzebub himself had shown up and staked out the front pew of a prayer meeting.

  Romulus Pitt growled, "What the hell are you doin', Stonehill? Get your sorry ass over here."

  "Not today, Mr. Pitt. Not from now on either. These men are right about what they've done, and why they're here. Gonna do my job the right way—for a change. Ain't gonna be no more favorin' anybody, or any group. Might as well make up your mind to it."

  "I'll be damned. You're bought and paid for. So, I'll see you by my side, on a horse ridin' the hell out of town, or dead. You choose."

  Everyone in attendance appeared stunned, including Pitt, the day Stonehill stood his ground. My admiration for the man went up several notches when he said, "Sorry, but you're wrong, Mr. Pitt. Good people of Iron Bluff put me in office by way of a legally held election. I'm bound by my oath of office, and good for at least another year."

  The elder Pitt's face flushed. For about a second, I thought his head might explode. When he didn't respond to Stonehill's startling revelation, Eli shook a finger our direction and yelped, "We came for Bull Tingwell. Don't give a hatful of horseshit what you're about, Marshal Stonehill." The word "marshal" came out like it was something soft and mushy he'd stepped in that smelled bad.

  Romulus raised a hand to shush his blustering son and said, "Nobody's about to get away with shooting a woman in my town—least of all one of the damned Tingwells. We came here to see justice done. Might not be now. Might not be today. Might not even be next week. But by God, I will see justice done."

  I could tell Boz was within spitting distance of losing his patience when he snapped, "Soon as Judge Stanley Cooper arrives, justice will be done. But it ain't gonna have nothing to do with you or these others you've brought with you." Men behind Pitt stirred again. Couldn't tell if their restlessness had its basis in a fear of what might happen or a desire for the dance to commence in earnest.

  "We'll see about that," Pitt snarled.

  "Yes, we will," Boz shot back. "Right now, it'd be in your best interest to take all these boys over to the Fin and Feather. 'Bout time for all of you to cool off and have a drink."

  Thought I'd get right to the point and put the reality of the situation to them straight up, so they couldn't miss it. "You're looking down six barrels of instant death, Mr. Pitt. Get your people away, right now, or there's gonna be a bloodbath. Close as you are to me, I can promise you'll be the first to die."

  Think I caught everyone by surprise. Front rank of Pitt's band of gunmen got to blinking real fast. Whole gang pulled their mounts one step back. Then they all focused on their leader for guidance. Pitt remained motionless. He looked to be boiling alive in a bottomless pit of oily hatred.

  Pruitt, who appeared to have about a half a dipper more brains than his mouthy brother, urged his mount up beside Romulus, leaned sidways in his stirrups and whispered something in his father's ear. The older Pitt's hands moved away from his gun belt and went to the lapels of his vest.

  After about a second or so of silence, Romulus said, "Hell, we can take care of this anytime, boys. Judge Cooper won't be here for weeks. Lots can happen in two or three weeks. Come on. I'll buy all of you a round of drinks." As the group turned their animals and ambled toward Pitt's saloon, he added, "Damned fortunate for you lawdogs I'm in a good mood; otherwise you'd all be dead, and Bull Tingwell's sorry old ass would be swinging from that tree yonder."

  I started to tell the insolent bastard how the cow ate the cabbage, but Boz whispered, "Let it go, Lucius. The storm's blowin' over. Ain't no need for us to piss him off any further today if we can help it."

  Course he was right. Watched until all Pitt's boys had vacated the street and disappeared into the Fin and Feather. We were on the verge of breathing a well-needed sighs of relief when I heard Stonehill say, "Oh, shit. What now?"

  Hardy Tingwell thundered up in front of us at the head of his personal collection of man-killers and pistoleers. Every damned one of them looked totally pissed and ready for a fight.

  15

  "THE SON OF A BITCH IS BLUFFIN' "

  BOZ MUMBLED, "PITT'S visit was something of a surprise. I actually expected to see these boys first."

  Thick cloud of red dust swirled around Hardy Tingwell, and all those out front, as their horses danced to a nervous, tail-twitching stop. Hardy stood in his stirrups and said, "Came for my father, boys. Either give him up or we'll tear this jail down and take him."

  Boz brought his big boomer to bear on the boy, and snugged the stock into his shoulder. Stonehill and I followed his lead.

  "Make a move that brings you one more foot my direction, and I'll blast you right into Satan's front parlor," Boz snapped.

  John Roman Hatch separated himself from the crowd, and eased up beside the only living Tingwell son left. As if by magic, the skeletal Casper Longstreet appeared next to Hatch.

  "Where's Winters?" I realized real quick that Boz's question was directed at me as much as Hatch, Hardy, or any of the others.

  Identical, smirky grins spread across the Tingwell gang's faces. Hatch said, "He's feeling a bit sickly today. Been working right hard the past week or so. You know how it is, Rangers. Poor boy's just wore down to a nubbin a-practizin' his chosen trade."

  Snickering, overconfident laughter started in the front rank and spread to the rear. Boz shocked hell out of me and Stonehill when he jumped off the plank porch, marched over to Hatch, and shoved the shotgun muzzle right into the gunman's oversized silver belt buckle. Too late, many of the Tingwell bunch realized they'd committed the unforgivable sin. Never laugh at a man like Boz Tatum. Such an act could get you delivered into a pine box in a heartbeat.

  Honest to God, felt like the world stopped spinning. Street got quieter than the inside of a freshwater clam. Everyone there heard Boz when he snarled, "I've had one hell of a bad day, Hatch. Woke up with a dull headache that's been rackin' my noggin ever since me and Lucius arrived in this stinky armpit of a town. Just had to do this same dance with Romulus Pitt. I'm gettin' tired of the lot of you real damned quick." He pulled the shotgun back about an inch, and then shoved it deeper into the flesh of Hatch's belly.

  John Rom
an's face contorted in pain. "Careful, Tatum. Sure wouldn't want that thing to go off by accident."

  Hardy snorted, "The son of a bitch is bluffin', Hatch. Let's take 'em right here right now."

  Boz smiled, took his hand away from the shotgun's forearm, and motioned to me. I jumped off the porch. Had my weapon in Hardy Tingwell's gut so quick he barely had time to blink.

  "Here's how this is gonna work, fellers," Boz said. "Everyone, 'cept Hatch and Hardy, will wheel his mount and head for the Matador, or get the hell out of town. Doesn't matter which to me. But if you're not gone by the time I count ten, Lucius and I will cut these two men in half. What happens after that won't mean much to anyone. Will it, John Roman?"

  Hardy snorted, "Your reputation ain't worth a pile of horse dung around here, Tatum. Personally, I don't believe you've got the huevos necessary for an action that bold. Ain't no Ranger alive as audacious as you'd like us to believe."

  Boz glanced across Hatch's saddle at the idiot Tingwell and said, "When it comes right down to the nut-cuttin', you stupid jackass, it's not really necessary for me to be all that bold anyway. See, I have a man in the cell block with your father. He's been told to shoot Bull if so much as one of you gets past us."

  Over my shoulder, I shouted, "Rip, sing out. Got your shotgun on Bull?"

  You'd of had to been deaf not to hear Thorn when he roared, "He's covered, boys. Quakin' in his boots. Figures he's about to meet his Maker, and he ain't far from wrong."

  Rip's answer shocked Hardy Tingwell down to the soles of his well-used boots. Hatch and Longstreet shot nervous glances at each other. Both had strange puzzled looks on their faces.

  Hatch touched Hardy's sleeve. Barely heard the gunman speak when he said, "Maybe this ain't such a good idea. Let's think on it a spell. Go over to the Matador. Have a drink and relax."

  Boz didn't let a second pass when he snorted, "Thank God. Someone's finally showing something like a piece of brain today. Was beginning to wonder if any of you boys' thinker boxes worked."

  Hatch, Longstreet, and Tingwell turned their animals and headed for the Matador. They kept glancing over their shoulders at us. For about a heartbeat, I felt certain ole Bull's hired killers might come back around and fight. But, I suppose, good sense must have got the best of them. Rest of the bunch followed like whipped dogs, and appeared disinclined to indulge murderous urges when it came to facing men like us.

  Heard Boz let out a wheezing breath like a man who'd been hit in the gut. Knew he was relieved. Hell, my knees wobbled like a newborn calf's. Ocean of sweat saturated everything I wore. Propped the shotgun against my leg, and wiped my drenched hat out.

  I said, "You know, Boz, we should have arrested Hardy for shooting Rip."

  "We've got enough problems right now, Lucius. If we had jerked him up short, there'd of been a bloodbath for certain."

  Stonehill whispered, "Damnation, boys. This has been the most tension-filled morning of my entire life. Lucky we ain't all three deader'n beaver hats."

  Boz mumbled, "Yeah," turned on his heel, and headed for the jail.

  Soon as we got inside, Rip threw the bolt on the heavy cell block door and jerked it open. He leaned against the frame and said, "Hell's bells, fellers. Gettin' mighty tense around these parts. Couldn't hear everything said back here in my hole, but got enough to know that about one more confrontation like that'n, and hot lead's gonna be flyin' like raindrops in a cyclone."

  As he stood his weapon in the gun rack, Stonehill shook his head and said, "True enough. Neither Romulus Pitt nor Hardy Tingwell will go so easy next time." He turned to Boz. "You caught all of 'em by surprise with your audacity and bluster, Tatum. Such shenanigans won't work again."

  "Hell of a mess," I said. "Town folk want us to let the old bastard go, Pitt wants to hang him. What's left of the Tingwell clan seems determined to break him loose first chance they get, and maybe kill some of us in the process. Prospects don't look good, any way you cut them."

  Not sure Boz had put it all together quite so concisely up to that point. Or maybe Rip and I were just the first to string all the negatives of our situation together and say them out loud. Anyway, things got mighty quiet in Stonehill's office for a spell.

  Boz mumbled, "On top of all that, both clans are in town drinking up every drop of bonded spider-killer they can get their grubby paws on. In about two hours they'll probably be out in the street drunk as skunks, and looking for a fight. God help us all if such an event comes to pass."

  Let my mind go slipping around in the calm after the storm. Went so far as telling myself that the state of affairs couldn't get much worse. But, like my daddy always used to say, just when you think any given situation can't get any worse, it usually does. I swear, the man should've worked with a traveling circus as one of those crystal-ball gazers who claim to see the future.

  Door burst open and slammed against the wall. Knob had slipped from Doc Adamson's sweaty hand. Poor man had all the outer appearance of someone on the verge of tears. He glanced at me, and then down at the floor. His arms hung at his sides as if broken at the shoulders. He shrugged and made a motion of tired resignation.

  "Gentlemen, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Miss Ruby Black just passed," he said.

  16

  "TOOK ONE THROUGH THE FRONT

  OF HIS SKULL"

  MY CONFUSED MIND circled around the god-awful truth of his horrible report. The ghastly news slipped into my brain like one of the doc's scalpels slicing through soft flesh, but the words didn't make any sense. They carved across something at the back of my brain with such deadly effectiveness, my head snapped forward. Stars flew around the office in front of my unbelieving eyes.

  Adamson's clinical pronouncement that she'd "just passed" took all the starch right out of me. My already wobbly legs went to rubber at the knees. Felt sure I was about to hit the ground like a felled tree.

  Stumbled across the room, dropped into a chair, and thought I just might toss my breakfast all over the floor. I could hear people talking around me, but their remarks sounded as though everyone spoke from the bottom of a freshly filled rain barrel.

  First thing that finally penetrated my brain was Adamson saying, "Don't know for sure, Ranger. It seemed to me as though she just gave up." The doc's voice cracked as he ran a trembling hand through drenched hair and added, "Guess, maybe, she might have had an infection that festered and turned inside. Showed no evidence I could detect. Could be her heart simply gave out, what with all the different pieces of surgery necessary to repair the damage. Might've lost too much blood. Just don't know for sure."

  Boz raised a hand to stop what sounded like the beginnings of a lengthy recitation of all the possible reasons for the dead girl's unfortunate departure from this earth.

  My fevered mind swirled and heaved. The relationship with Ruby grew so quickly, burned with so much heat, and now ended so abruptly, I just couldn't get my wits around it.

  Turned to Adamson and said, "But I saw her this morning. You said she'd be fine."

  Man looked stricken. Even in my agitated state, I could tell he felt almost as lost as I did. He made a kind of beseeching motion with his hands and muttered, "I know, Lucius. Honestly, son, I had no reason to believe otherwise. I cannot, for the life of me, understand what went wrong. She simply stopped breathing. Tried my damnedest to bring her back. Nothing worked. I'm mystified by the turn of events."

  Boz's spurs chinked and rang as he ambled over to my side. Jingling music from his silver rowels seemed out of place, given the circumstances and my precarious state of mind. He placed a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. Took every fiber of my being to keep from bursting into tears in front of men I respected.

  My friend bent close to my ear and whispered, "Sometimes even witches make mistakes, son. Maybe Ruby wasn't your morning star."

  Adamson had gone to mumbling. "Didn't think it went that deep. Yes, it was bad. But I've seen worse—lots of times. Augie Smoot took one through the front of his skull�
�side to side, straight shot. Man's still alive. Has grandchildren. Course he does act mighty strange." He slumped into the only empty chair, cupped his head in his hands, and moaned, "Did my best, but sometimes people just die, Lucius. No understanding it when God decides to take them home with him."

  That's when the rage boiled up again. Sprang from my chair, pistol in hand, and managed to get inside the cell block before anyone could stop me. Fired the first shot soon as I stepped over the threshold. Bullet ricocheted off a cell bar right in front of Bull Tingwell's face.

  Prisoner went to screaming, scrambled for the farthest corner, and crawled under his cot like a turpentined cat. Snapped off another round that splintered a spot in the floor next to Tingwell's head, before Rip snatched my arm into the air and Boz grabbed me from behind. Gun went off again. Punched a nice-sized hole in the ceiling.

  Boz yelled, "No, Lucius, no. Can't kill the woman-murderin' scum like this. I know you want to, but you can't."

  Rip's grasp on my arm felt like iron bands tightening. After a spell of silent struggling, the blood to my hand stopped circulating. The pistol dropped from my grasp and bounced off the plank floor.

  My frustration left me with nothing to do but scream at the old bastard. "God damn you and your whole worthless clan." Made a lunge for the cell door. Rip held me back. Screamed, "Another second alone and I'd of killed you deader'n a rotten tree stump, old man."

  Rip held on and whispered, "Calm down now, Lucius. Don't want to hurt you. Calm down, son."

  Crazy. Only way to explain it. Went completely crazy. First time it'd ever happened to me. Suddenly realized how such feelings might possess men. Cause a sensible fellow to do stupid, unreasonable things that land them at the end of a hangman's noose.

  Anger, deeper than the blackest hole in Hell itself, finally drained out of me and, almost, seemed to seep through the cracks in the floor. Said, "I'm okay now, boys. You can let me go."

  Snatched up my pistol from the corner, then headed for the jail's front door. I passed men on the street. Thought about killing both sides of Iron Bluff's set of belligerent jackasses, just for the sheer hell of it, but didn't. Had to make it to Ruby. Ran till I burst through Adamson's door. Stood beside what Ruby's spirit had left behind.