‘Who the hell is it?’ he shouted to Braithwaite.
‘I don’t know!’ the marshal yelled in reply.
There were indications of some uncertainty among the body of the riders and they all slowed. Braithwaite stared intently at the oncoming riders and as the dust raised by them cleared for a moment, finally recognized the owner of the Lazy Ladder.
‘It’s Montgomery!’ he called.
Brandon had been expecting to take the Lazy Ladder by surprise and was momentarily disconcerted. Before he could respond, a voice behind him boomed some order and the posse burst forward once more, catching Brandon and the marshal in a tide of galloping horses. Shots were beginning to be fired and with a touch of bravado, Brandon belatedly raked his horse with his spurs. As it sprang forward, he took some comfort from the fact that Montgomery’s party seemed to be a lot smaller than his own. All the same, as more shots boomed out, he didn’t waste much time in tugging at the reins to restrain the eager beast.
For his part, Montgomery was quite happy for Brandon to come at him. To counteract the Mill Iron’s charge, he ordered his men to take an opposite course and spread out to make themselves a more difficult target. Brandon’s men bore down on them, firing as they rode. It wasn’t very effective because they were moving too fast. Montgomery’s response was more damaging as the bunched riders made an easier target. Some of their horses went down, throwing their riders and causing a degree of confusion behind. Montgomery and his men had formed a rough semi-circle, into the heart of which the Mill Iron horsemen rode, but as they met with a hail of bullets they began to break apart. Seaton’s Winchester was hot in his hands as he pumped lead at the oncoming horde. Brandon’s men were taking some heavy losses, but as they came into closer quarters the mass of riders began to break apart into separate groups. The Lazy Ladder men closed with them, and the struggle took on a desperate edge as each group fought hard to gain the upper hand. Seaton found himself facing an oncoming rider and drew the chestnut to one side, pressing the trigger of his Winchester as the man’s horse went plunging by. The man fell backwards and crashed to the ground. Almost immediately another horseman appeared; holding his rifle with one hand, he squeezed off another shot and the man fell away to the side. His foot caught in the stirrups, preventing him from falling cleanly, and his screams rang out above the tumult of battle as he was dragged along the ground. As he turned his mount to meet a further threat from his rear, a bullet ricocheted from the saddle horn and the chestnut reared. He was almost thrown, but managed to regain control at the cost of losing his rifle, which was shaken from his grasp. Reaching for one of his six-guns, he began to blaze away at the melee which had formed, but quickly realized that he was taking a risk of hitting one of the Lazy Ladder men.
A dense cloud of dust hung over the scene and it was hard to see what was happening. He felt a bullet tug at the sleeve of his jacket as he paused to jam more slugs into his revolver. Out of the melange of men and horses two riders appeared, galloping hard towards him. He raised his gun and fired and they veered off, heading away from the fray. There seemed to be a general movement backwards on the part of Brandon’s men, and raising his head, he thought he detected the figure of Montgomery astride his horse, waving his arm as a signal to the others. As the Mill Iron riders slowly retreated, Montgomery’s men advanced, spreading a heavy curtain of lead in front of them. Seaton had a definite feeling that Brandon’s men were beginning to wilt. Their answering fire had dwindled and as the cloud of dust and smoke thinned, he saw some of them riding away. Suddenly he stiffened; among them he thought he recognized Braithwaite riding hard alongside another man astride a big palomino. The appearance of the horse was enough to tell him that the other rider must be Brandon. The fact that they were fleeing the scene could only mean that the tide of battle had definitely turned in Montgomery’s favour and that Brandon, realizing the fight was lost, was trying to make good his escape. Instantly Seaton clapped his spurs to the chestnut’s flanks and set off in hot pursuit.
The chestnut was a good horse and as it settled into its stride, Seaton began to close on his quarry. Brandon and the marshal were heading for the open country but suddenly they changed direction and began to ride towards the Lazy Ladder. Seaton’s heart gave a jump. Maisie was waiting back at the ranch. He wasn’t sure whether it was because they had seen him but the move had cost them a little more ground and he continued to gain on them. His horse stretched forward as he lay low in the saddle, seeming to relish the chase. If Brandon and the marshal had not seen him before, they were certainly aware of him now. Braithwaite turned and began to fire wildly with his six-shooter. It was a foolish move; there was little chance of a bullet finding its mark and it only served to slow them both down. In response, Seaton leaned further forward in the saddle to lessen the chances of being hit and to let the weight of his body assist the chestnut. As he rode, he kept a lookout for any other riders and at one point caught a glimpse of a horseman but he very quickly disappeared behind a rise in the ground. Despite his best efforts, Brandon and the marshal were still some distance ahead when the ranch-house came into view.
They galloped into the yard before swinging down from their horses and dashing inside the building. Seaton knew what to expect and, drawing his horse to a quick stop, flung himself clear of the saddle as shots began to ring out from inside the ranch-house. Taking advantage of whatever cover presented itself, he worked his way towards the building, returning fire as he did so. His attention was fixed on what was happening in front of him so that he didn’t notice the presence of another gunman till the man was almost upon him. The cracking of a twig alerted him and he spun round, firing as he did so. The man staggered back, simultaneously firing his own gun. The bullet flew over Seaton’s shoulder and the man turned and began to run. Seaton took a step to follow him when he felt a sharp pain in his upper arm. Blood seeped through but it wasn’t his gun arm. Taken by surprise, he turned to see the marshal standing just inside the open doorway of the ranch-house with a rifle raised to his shoulder. A voice yelled, ‘Get him, Braithwaite!’
Immediately Seaton dropped to the ground as the marshal fired. Bullets whistled just over his head as he hit the dirt, jarring his injured shoulder. He knew his position was desperate. Rolling to one side, he looked up. Braithwaite was partly concealed by the doorframe and didn’t offer much of a target, but Seaton knew his bullet had to count. Taking just a moment to take aim, he pressed the trigger of his six-gun. There was a loud scream and Braithwaite spun round. He attempted to raise the rifle once more but Seaton was too quick and his second shot sent the marshal to the floor where he lay in a pool of blood, not moving. Seaton glanced about but there was no sign of the gunman who had fled and in a few moments the sound of hoof beats told him the man had made his escape. That left Brandon.
Getting to his feet, Seaton began to run towards the ranch-house, ducking and weaving as he went. Gunfire burst from inside the building, tearing up the dirt of the yard. He reached the porch steps and dashed up them, stepping over Braithwaite’s body to enter the room. A quick glance told him that Brandon was not there. He looked towards the back of the room. A door stood open. Quickly he stepped forwards but even as he did so he heard a scream and Brandon appeared in the doorframe holding Maisie in front of him, with his arm around her neck and a revolver at her back.
‘Drop the gun!’ he hissed. Seaton hesitated for just a moment.
‘I said drop the gun or the lady gets it!’
Seaton looked into Maisie’s frightened eyes before letting his Colt fall to the floor. Pushing Maisie in front of him, Brandon stepped forward a pace.
‘Who are you?’ he said. Seaton did not reply.
‘You’ve caused me an awful lot of trouble. I want to know who you are before I kill you.’
‘Let Maisie go,’ Seaton replied, ‘and I’ll tell you.’
Brandon gave an ugly laugh. ‘Maisie,’ he said. ‘So it’s Maisie, is it?’ His face contorted. ‘I’d say it was Miss Mon
tgomery to you.’
‘Leave Miss Montgomery alone. She has nothing to do with this.’
By way of reply, Brandon suddenly forced Maisie’s head round and kissed her savagely. As she broke away, her lip bleeding, he broke into a laugh again.
‘Once I’ve killed you, I’ll deal with Miss Maisie,’ he hissed.
With a sudden movement, he pushed her aside and levelled his gun at Seaton’s chest.
‘One more time,’ he said. ‘Who are you and what business do you have with me?’
‘Unfinished business,’ Seaton snapped. He allowed his eyes to stray beyond Brandon. ‘Before you think of doin’ anything else, I suggest you take a look behind you.’
Brandon’s features creased in an ugly leer. ‘Is that the best you can do?’ he snarled.
He stepped forward a pace and, raising the gun, waved it in front Seaton’s face.
‘Goodbye, whoever you are,’ he said.
He stared at Seaton with an evil intensity as his finger began to close on the trigger. Seaton tried to brace himself when suddenly the expression on Brandon’s face changed. The evil leer was replaced by a look of surprise combined with pain. His eyes seemed to glaze over and the gun fell from his hand, striking the floor with a loud clatter. A wisp of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth and he opened his lips as if he was about to ask one more question. He swayed and Seaton stepped nimbly aside as he sank forward, striking his head against the wall as he fell. Protruding from his back was a long slim blade. Seaton looked up at the doorway where he had pretended that someone was standing behind Brandon. That old trick was a desperate ploy and he knew it wouldn’t work. But now someone was there. Framed in the doorway was the worn figure of Utah.
‘I saw you light out,’ he said. ‘Looks like I got here in the nick of time.’ As the oldster stepped into the room, Seaton let out a huge sigh of relief.
‘Sorry about the theatricals,’ Utah said. ‘Truth of the matter, after that fight with Brandon’s boys, I was clean out of ammunition.’
Seaton opened his mouth to respond, but he had no chance because Maisie was already sobbing on his shoulder and his arms were wrapped tightly around her.
A couple of days had passed and Seaton and Utah were sitting by the campfire relaxing. A soft breeze rustled the leaves and blew some scraps of cloud among the stars. Utah finished off his mug of coffee and reached over to refill it.
‘Seems like a long time since we were here,’ he said.
‘It only seems that way,’ Seaton replied. ‘A lot has happened since then.’
The oldster grinned and nodded his grizzled head. ‘It sure has,’ he said, ‘but it’s all turned out for the best.’
‘We struck lucky,’ Seaton responded. ‘I have to admit there was a time there when I thought we’d taken on more than we could handle.’
‘How’s that wound?’ Utah asked, looking at Seaton’s bandaged arm.
‘It’s not much more than a graze.’
‘I’d say it was more than that, but Miss Maisie sure did a good job of treatin’ it.’
‘With everythin’ that happened, I barely noticed I’d been hit.’
Utah looked outside the circle of the fire at the looming shapes of the surrounding hills.
‘Sure feels good to be back,’ he mused.
‘You figure you’ll take up Montgomery’s offer?’ Seaton said.
‘I reckon so. I ain’t likely to get a better one.’ Seaton thought he could detect a slight hesitancy in the oldster’s voice and thought he knew the reason why.
‘You’ll see,’ he said. ‘Those sheep will be OK.’
‘There weren’t too many of ’em still alive, thanks to Brandon’s gunslicks.’
‘We’ll round up the ones that are left and Montgomery will add to the flock. He’s not askin’ you to take charge of ’em as some kind of favour. As far as he’s concerned it’s a business proposition. If he had his way, he would have taken on Brownlow too, but it seems that he’s had enough of the sheep business, at least around these parts.’
The oldster turned to Seaton with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I guess he ain’t got reason to stay on at the Lazy Ladder like you and me,’ he said.
Seaton grinned. He knew Utah was referring to Maisie Montgomery but he didn’t rise to the bait.
‘He won’t be needed to testify, that’s for sure,’ he replied. ‘And as far as the Lazy Ladder is concerned, there’s plenty of work to be done gettin’ the place back on its feet, startin’ as soon as I get back with roundin’ up those beeves and trailin’ ’em to the nearest rail head.’
The oldster took another drink of coffee.
‘You’re right there,’ he said, ‘neither of those two varmints are goin’ to cause any more trouble. They deserved everythin’ they got.’
‘They’re dead and gone,’ Seaton said, ‘it’s time to forget ’em and look forward. Once the town meeting takes place, Lindenberg will have a proper marshal and things will be different.’
‘It’s just a pity that they took some good men with them,’ Utah mused.
His words caused them to lapse into silence, each man thinking his own thoughts, till Utah broke the spell by getting to his feet and walking over to the horses. Seaton watched him, reflecting that his limp seemed almost to have gone, while he rummaged among his saddle-bags. In a moment or two he returned carrying something in his hand.
‘Here,’ he said, handing it to Seaton. Seaton took it, recognizing the pouch containing gold dust he had given the old man.
‘Look on it as somethin’ towards the future,’ Utah said. ‘I reckon you’re gonna need it more than me.’
Flame Across the Land Page 12