The Curse of Billy the Kid: Untold Legends Volume One

by Tamsin L. Silver

  Unlike the common flat rooftops in the region, the majority of the one on the Chisum home angled to a point at center, sloping down to the sides. The overhang doubled as a cover for the narrow porch that ran along the entire front of the building, save for the center section where a narrow adobe wall hid the front entrance.

  Dick knocked on the door politely.

  For a change, a woman answered the door, and for a moment, I thought Uncle John had gotten himself a lady-friend, until I noted her age. She was closer to mine than Dick’s, let alone Uncle John’s. Fair in complexion, she had long blond hair that fell loose about her shoulders.

  I grinned and took off my hat.

  “Hello, is Uncle John at home?” Dick asked, using the name the Cattle King of New Mexico had asked us to call him.

  “He is. May I ask who’s callin’?” she said, her voice holding a Texas twang to it.

  “Richard M. Brewer, William Bonney, and the Regulators, ma’am.”

  “We sent word ahead with Charlie Bowdre. Did he make it here all right?” I asked.

  “He did,” she said with a nervous smile as she opened the door farther. “I’m Uncle John’s niece, Sallie. A pleasure to meet you Richard and William. My uncle is expectin’ y’all. He’s had nothin’ but nice things to say about you since we heard you was comin’ by this way.”

  Dick took off his hat and entered the house. “Thank you, ma’am. Billy, keep a n eye on things out here. I’ll be right back with word from Uncle John.”

  “You got it, Captain.”

  Sallie held her lantern toward me as Dick disappeared into the house. “Billy? As in Billy Bonney, the outlaw?”

  “That’d be me, ma’am,” I said, bowing to her with a big ol’ grin on my face.

  “Why, you’re nothin’ but a boy.”

  I laughed. “Well, I guess I am. What did you think me to be, Miss Chisum? Old and gnarly like the cook, Gotfried Gauss?”

  “I have yet to meet Mr. Gauss, but rumors make you sound like a hardened man, Mr. Bonney.”

  I slid a hand into my pocket. “Please, call me Billy, Miss Chisum.”

  “Sallie,” she said, a smile as bright as the sun spreading across her face.

  Seeing as I felt a nickel still in my pocket, I pulled my hand out so she could see it was empty. “What’s that in your ear, Miss Sallie?”

  “My ear?”

  Carefully reaching out, I said, “May I?”

  She looked skeptical but nodded.

  I reached out and flipped the coin the way I’d been taught and pretended to pull the nickel from her ear. “Why this, ‘tis a funny place to be saving your money.”

  “What?”

  I produced the nickel for her to see, and with lips pressed together, she fought a smile. “Billy Bonney, you are not what I expected at all.”

  “If you thought he was a pain in the rear, you’d be right,” Dick said, walking up behind her. “John said we’re good to stay. Some will have to bunk with the other ranch hands in the cow camp, but for now, horses to the stable for the night, and we get Morton and Baker situated.”

  “Where they staying?” I asked.

  “Here in the house. We’ll figure it out. Miss Chisum,” he said, bowing his head slightly before stepping past Sallie and out onto the porch, where he put his hat back on.

  I tipped my hat to her as well before placing it on my head, then followed Dick back to the men, where he told everyone the plan for the night.

  After getting our mounts settled at the stable, we cleaned up and headed inside the house, which contained eight rooms, all surrounding a patio at its center. A beautiful home she was, complete with carpet in many of the rooms, except the dining area. It had a wooden floor and often after large meals at a table that sat twenty-four, Uncle John would have it pulled to the side to make room for dancing. Tonight was no different.

  Without the Coes there to play violin, Sallie took to the piano, and all but our two fugitives enjoyed some music and dancing after a good meal.

  During a pause where Sallie hunted for music, Dick approached me, a curious look on his face. “Billy, did you take the silver off Morton and Baker?”

  “Hell, no. Moon comes up at quarter to nine in the morning. Best we not take any chances if we oversleep.”

  “Agreed, but they’re goin’ to be mighty uncomfortable all night then.”

  “Yes sir, and that there gives me pleasure.” I smiled at him wide and flicked a glance toward Miss Sallie as she searched through sheet music for another tune.

  Dick missed nothing. “Seein’ as you seem to fancy the girl, go find out what she took ‘em after dinner.”

  “I do not fancy her,” I demanded, quietly. “She’s nice, smart, and pretty. And all I’ve had to look at lately is your mug and the rest of the Regulators.”

  Dick grinned. “So...you’re sayin’ I’m not pretty?”

  I laughed a good belly laugh since Dick rarely made jokes these days. “Sure ya are, Dick, but the rest of them ugly sons of bitches is weighin’ on my soul. I’m in desperate need of enjoyin’ the company of a young woman for a change.”

  “Well, she seems taken with you―”

  “Like all smart women are,” I said in jest.

  He rolled his eyes. “Well then, why d on’t you find out what she took our prisoners while you’re flirtin’ with her, okay?”

  “On it now,” I said, smacking his left shoulder without thinking.

  Dick winced, his eyes almost crossing with the pain my slap caused, and I immediately felt like an ass.

  “I’m so sorry! Are you all right? I thought you had that looked at!”

  Dick grimaced, and through clenched teeth, he said, “I did. Still healin’.”

  His ruddy complexion appeared redder than usual, and I took that as my cue.

  “I’ll go ask Sallie about that stuff...”

  “Yeah, you do that,” he said and walked away, grumbling.

  I sauntered over as she began to play and sat next to her, singing the song with her as the rest danced behind us. As the song finished, she turned to me.

  “Why, Billy Bonney, for a dangerous outlaw, you sing like a bird.”

  I winked. “Don’t believe all the rumors ya hear, Miss Sallie. I’m not that dangerous.”

  “Not like those two men you brought here, I take it?”

  She opened that door of conversation, so I stepped on through. “It was mighty nice of you to offer your room to our fugitives. No windows make it a perfect spot for them, so thank you for that. I just hope you’ll have a place to sleep though.”

  “You’re welcome, and don’t you worry about me. My uncle has moved me to his room for the night seein’ that he plans to bunk out here with y’all.”

  “I see. Well, thank you all the same, for that and for allowin’ me to share your piano bench.” I started to stand up but leaned back over and said, “By the way, what was it our two fugitives asked you for?”

  “Oh, just some paper, a candle or two, and somethin’ to write with. Said they wanted to write their sweethearts before they got locked away. Isn’t that, well, sweet?”

  “It could even be true,” I said. “But you are sweet, that’s for certain.” I took her hand and kissed the top of it before askin’ her, “Do you know ‘Turkey in the Straw’?”

  “Sadly, I do not,” she said.

  “I do,” Uncle John said, walking over to us with his fiddle.

  I put my hand out to her. “Well then, Miss Sallie, might I have this dance?”

  She looked to her uncle, who nodded. “He’s the best dancer here.”

  Sallie tentatively took my hand. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “Oh! A dare, my boys!” I said. “Y’all better stay back. I’m about to show Miss Sallie how it’s done here in Lincoln!”

  They boys hooted and hollered at this as Uncle John began to play. They stomped and clapped as I took Sallie’s hands in mine, twirled her about, and danced her feet off.

&nbs
p; It was a grand night, and for once, I slept well. However, by morning, when Doc and I went to fetch Morton and Baker for breakfast, they were as pale as death, and Miss Sallie made sure to say so at the breakfast table, giving us all the evil eye.

  We all knew it was because of the silver they wore, but it wasn’t like we could tell her, so we all just kept to eating and said not a word, letting her believe it was due to their windowless room and fear for their lives.

  As we were getting ready to leave, both our prisoners approached Miss Sallie with things in hand, and I used my enhanced senses to hear what they were saying.

  “I want to make my last request on Earth to you, Miss Chisum,” Baker said. “I will never live to get to Lincoln. When you hear of my death, I wish you would send this watch and bridle, which I plaited myself, to my sweetheart, and mail this letter to her.”

  “I will, but there’s no reason to think you’ll not make it to Lincoln. Mr. Brewer seems to be a man of irreproachable character. I would think he’ll keep his word to you.”

  “If it were up to him alone, ma’am, I would agree. But it is not just him in that party.” He paused. “Thank you for this.”

  With no idea what else to say to him, she told him he was welcome, and Morton stepped up to her next, handing her one of two letters he held in his shackled hands. Feeling eyes on him, he turned to see me watching him closely and appeared to swallow what he was about to say. Instead, he just said goodbye and shook her hand with a mighty grip, his eyes sad as they looked at her with words he wanted to say but didn’t dare with me so close.

  “Come on, you two. Quit taking up all of Miss Sallie’s time. You have an appointment today with the Justice of the Peace,” I said.

  They nodded and walked away, leaving her standing there a bit dumbfounded, unable to find the words to comfort them as she held a bridle, a gold watch, and two letters.

  Uncle John approached Dick and me as we reached the stable. “Brewer, before ya go...” He stopped close to us and dropped his voice. “I just spoke with one of my ranch hands who returned late last night from a trip to town for supplies. Word has it that Dolan’s got twenty or so men on the road between here and Lincoln. He plans to ambush you and rescue his two men from your custody.”

  “We have legal warrants for them,” Brewer said in our defense.

  “I’m not sayin’ ya don’t. I’m sayin’ to be careful. The House is always one step ahead, which means the deck is stacked against you.”

  “Normally I’d say we can take Dolan and his goons,” I said. “But it’s our ten to his twenty. I don’t like those odds.”

  “Neither do I,” Dick agreed. “Hell, they’re more likely to kill Morton and Baker than allow us to get them to court.”

  “Well, that’s just fine with―” Dick hit me in the stomach, knocking the wind outta me, making the last word of my sentence sound like, “Oof!” as I doubled over.

  “I made them a promise,” Dick said, glaring down at me. “We’ll go the way of Agua Negra and take that trail that swings around the base of Capitan Mountain.”

  “Military use that route,” Uncle John offered up.

  “I know, but not that often, and it’s a much less traveled road than the one that follows the Hondo. It’ll bring us into Lincoln from a different direction and under cover of night. That way if Dolan is layin’ in wait for us, we might get lucky and bypass him all together.”

  “Smart idea,” Uncle John said, handing Dick a letter. “Give this to McSween when you see him.”

  “Will do. Thanks again, Uncle John.”

  I stood and wheezed out my thank you to Chisum as well, and with a hand on my gut, I followed Brewer. “I deserved that. We even now?”

  Dick looked at me with narrowed eyes over his good shoulder. “Not yet.”

  “Just dandy,” I muttered and mounted my horse with a groan that made him chuckle until we noticed McCloskey approaching us on his horse, holding the reins of Morton’s, who sat quietly.

  “Dick,” McCloskey said. “We need to stop at the postmaster in Roswell on the way to Lincoln.”

  “Why’s that?” Brewer asked as he carefully hoisted himself up into the saddle of his favorite horse, a b ay mare he’d named Mattie.

  “Buck needs to register and mail out a letter,” McCloskey explained as Morton nodded in confirmation.

  “No way,” I said, spinning my pony about to face McCloskey. “Ash Upson is the postmaster there, and we all know he’s pals with good ol’ Jimmy Dolan.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” McCloskey countered.

  I ignored him and looked to Morton. “Sallie was good enough to mail one of your letters. Why not this one, too?”

  “It’s all right, Billy,” Dick said before Morton could answer me. “We can stop. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to pick up a few things while we’re there.”

  I didn’t like the feeling I was getting in my gut. “Let me see that letter.”

  McCloskey handed it to me. It was addressed to H.H. Marshall in Richmond, Virginia, and I began to wonder if we should’ve let them write anything at all. But before I could rip it in half, Dick told me to give it back, and McCloskey snatched the letter out of my hand.

  With a curse on my tongue, we left South Spring and headed toward Roswell.

  8

  Meet Their Maker

  We reached the Roswell post office around ten o’clock in the morning. Sure enough, Ash Upson was on duty. With Dick’s shoulder hurting, I volunteered to go in with McCloskey and Morton.

  “Are you in any danger, Buck?” Ash asked, noticing the man’s wrists were shackled and our posse.

  “No. But if anythin’ happens to me, I need my people notified,” he said, handing Ash the H.H. Marshall letter.

  “Buck,” McCloskey said, laying a hand on Morton’s shoulder. “If they want to harm you two, they will have to kill me first.”

  I raised an eyebrow at that, and once outside, I told Charlie and MacNab what McCloskey said. They thought it odd as well, but by half past the hour, we were on the road to Lincoln with a long day ride ahead of us.

  Twenty miles in, we were strung out for about two-hundred yards along the trail as we slowly moved toward Agua Negra, now only five or six miles away. Charlie and I were in the lead with McCloskey, Morton, and Baker. The three were almost riding abreast and talking amongst themselves right in front of us. MacNab and Middleton weren’t far behind us, and the rest were strung out, with Dick riding last so as to keep an eye on the whole party.

  With Agua Negra so close, I began to daydream of resting my horse and getting food for him and me. But that’s when everything went straight into the shitter.

  Being as Morton and Baker had no knowledge of my abilities, as soon as they felt they were far enough ahead of us, they began to speak freely to McCloskey, and what I heard wasn’t good.

  “What you gonna do, William, when they realize you helped lead us right to Tunstall that day?” Baker said.

  “Shh! Keep your mouth shut,” McCloskey said.

  “You’ll be in the same boat we are, if not worse,” Morton pointed out. Let’s make a break for it. The silver cuffs are off. We can shift and be gone before they can even think about tryin’ to catch us.”

  “And it’s not like they can explain what we did to anyone, or they’d sound like they were off their rocker,” Baker added in.

  “Oh no,” I said real quiet-like to Charlie. “We got ourselves a problem.”

  “What?” Charlie asked.

  I moved my horse closer to him but pulled my gun with the silver bullets. “McCloskey is a turncoat. They got him to remove their silver cuffs somehow when we were at the post office. They’re about to make a run for it,” was all I got out before I saw McCloskey reach for his gun.

  Seeing McCloskey’s gun working round to me, I fired at him from my hip, and it hit him under the jaw, knocking him off his horse. Without hesitation, Morton and Baker took off on horseback. But as soon as they realized their tir
ed horses weren’t going as fast as they needed, they began to shift and soon leapt from their horses and began to run on all fours.

  Suddenly my vision became crystal clear and my focus zeroed in on the two wolves running off trail. I shouted, urging my horse to follow them, and Charlie wasn’t far behind, both of us firing our weapons.

  I hit Morton in the spine just as Charlie hit Baker in the chest. Both went down into the dirt but kept crawling as best they could with silver beginning to poison their system. Jumping off my horse, I ran the rest of the way to them, holding a revolver on each while the rest of the party caught up. But by then Morton had died, his life force flowing into me, leaving only Baker.

  “Do it, Billy, before Dick gets up here,” Charlie said.

  MacNab agreed. “He’s gonna die anyway. You might as well store up and just put him out of his misery.”

  Feeling light headed, I stared at Baker, and though he was dying, his eyes stared into mine, and I didn’t see a demon there. I saw the man, and it gave me pause.

  “Billy, it’s now or never. Brewer’s comin’, and he’s gonna be hoppin’ mad.”

  That was an understatement.

  “I’m sorry,” I mouthed to the wolf, and he shut his eyes just before I pulled the trigger and shot him in the head. The weight of his life force, paired with Morton’s, knocked me on my ass, literally, making me giggle like a schoolgirl.

  “Billy! Taking lives is not funny!” Sam scolded.

  This only made me chuckle more, prompting Charlie to come to my defense as I sat on the ground rocking back and forth with laughter singing, “Morton and Baker meet their maker.”

  “He’s drunk on soul-sucking-mumbo-jumbo,” Charlie said. “Byproduct of soakin’ up the life force of the soul he takes. He’s never had two hit him so fast without needin’ one to heal somethin’, so as John would’ve said, he’s bloody drunk as a skunk!”