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Vengeance Creek

Page 10

by Robert J. Randisi


  Shaye looked at James.

  “We went into the corral and looked after he left,” James said. “Two Ws, side by side.”

  “Intertwined?”

  James frowned.

  “Connecting,” Thomas said to James, and then to Shaye, “No, they weren’t. Just side by side.”

  “Do you know it, Pa?” James asked.

  “No,” Shaye said, shifting painfully in his desk chair. “No, I never heard of it.” He took out his watch and looked at it. “You boys ready to go? You got a couple of hours of daylight left.”

  “We’re ready,” Thomas said.

  “Just remember,” Shaye said, “you’re wearing the badges. Listen to what Cory and Berto have to say, and then you make the decisions. Understand?”

  “We understand, Pa,” James said.

  “Pa,” Thomas asked, “how far do we go to catch these men?”

  Before Shaye could answer, James said, “We go till we catch them, Thomas. They killed Nancy!”

  Shaye looked at his sons. The urgency to capture these men and bring back the money was certainly not the same as it had been the year before, when they spent weeks tracking down the Langer brothers and their gang. But Caldwell and Jacks had killed many citizens of Vengeance Creek, including the mayor’s daughter, and they certainly could not be allowed to get away with that.

  “Thomas,” he said. “Do you have any problem with chasin’ them until you find them?”

  “These badges won’t mean much once we leave the county, Pa,” Thomas said.

  James drew his gun and said, “These guns will mean just as much, no matter how far we have to go.”

  “Put it away, James,” Shaye said. “How many times have I told you not to pull that unless you intend to use it.”

  “I intend to use it, Pa!” James said fiercely.

  “I know you do, son,” Shaye said, “but not now, right?”

  James looked sheepish, and returned the gun to his holster. “Sorry, Pa.”

  “James, I know you’re upset about Nancy’s death, but don’t let that cloud your judgment.”

  “No, Pa,” James said, “I won’t.”

  “Don’t worry, Pa,” Thomas said, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

  “I’m counting on the two of you to watch out for each other,” Shaye said. “And watch Rigoberto. Don’t let him get hold of a bottle.”

  “What about Ralph Cory?” Thomas asked.

  “What about him?”

  “Do we have to watch him too?”

  “No,” Shaye said. “There won’t be any reason for you two to watch Cory.”

  “But he’ll be watching us?” James asked.

  “He’ll be watching your backs,” Shaye said, “and you’ll be watching his. It’ll be up to the four of you to keep each other alive.”

  “We’re only tracking two men, Pa,” Thomas said.

  “You don’t know that,” Shaye said. “There’s another man floating around somewhere—and you don’t know where the other two are headed, or what’s waitin’ there. So don’t assume you’re only gonna have to deal with two men.”

  Thomas nodded and said, “Okay, we’ll remember.”

  “You better get goin’,” Shaye said. He grimaced. “I wish I was goin’ with you.”

  “So do we, Pa,” James said.

  “Be careful, boys.”

  Thomas moved to the desk before his father could try to rise and held out his hand. Shaye shook it firmly, then followed suit with James. As they left, Shaye thought how proud he was of his two remaining sons—and how he hoped to see them again, soon.

  Ralph Cory was standing in front of the livery stable, pulling the cinch on his saddle tight, when Rigoberto Colon came from behind the stable, leading his new animal.

  “Ah, Señor Cory,” he said. “Buenos noches. It seems we are the first to arrive, eh?”

  “It seems.”

  Cory looked at Colon. The man’s eyes seemed clear, which was an oddity. Cory had seen the Mexican more than a few times around town and he had always been drunk. He wondered what Sheriff Daniel Shaye knew about the man that would sober him up so quickly and make him so ready to ride out as part of this very small posse.

  Colon was chewing on a toothpick and watched as Cory secured his saddle to his satisfaction. The animal itself was a marble-speckled Appaloosa, about fifteen hands high.

  “That is a handsome animal, señor,” Colon said.

  “Thanks.”

  “What is he? Eight? Nine?”

  “Ten,” Cory said.

  “Ah,” Colon said, “he has seen better days, then.”

  Cory turned and looked at Colon. “Haven’t we all?”

  Colon smiled, revealing several gold teeth. “Sí, that is true, señor. I meant no disrespect to your animal.”

  “None taken.”

  “You chose the same horse I did, eh?”

  “The claybank won’t have the stamina of my horse,” Cory said, “but he’ll do.”

  “Sí,” Colon said, “he was the best of the bunch.” The Mexican caressed the horse’s neck. “You also noticed what I did about the horse that was in the stall.”

  “Light stepping in his left hind, you mean?”

  “Sí,” Colon said. “The two young deputies, they have much to learn from us, eh?”

  “I’m not here to teach them.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “The same reason you are, I suppose.”

  “I am here to help capture the bad men,” Colon said. “And because I owe Señor Shaye a debt of gratitude.”

  Cory turned and faced the Mexican. “Then I guess we’re not here for the same reasons, are we?”

  “I do not know, señor,” Colon said with a shrug. “You have not told me your reason.”

  “Let’s just say I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  Colon nodded, then looked down at the gun on Cory’s hip.

  “That is a fine weapon.”

  “Nothin’ fancy.”

  “That is what I meant,” Colon said. “You can tell when a man cares for his gun, Señor Cory. Better that it should shoot straight than be adorned with silver and look pretty, eh?”

  “It’ll shoot straight,” Cory said. “I made it myself.”

  “Would you like to see my gun?”

  Cory tensed as Colon drew his weapon, then executed a neat border shift and held it out. It was a Navy Colt, which surprised him. He figured Colon for a fancy gun to match the silver conches on his saddle. He took it, hefted it, inspected it, and handed it back.

  “It’ll do.”

  “Ah,” Colon said, “I am not known for my shooting, señor, but I too can at least shoot straight—and I can hit what I shoot at.”

  “With a gun that size,” Cory said, “you’d only have to catch a piece of a man to stop him.”

  “A bullet from this gun,” Colon said proudly, “would take a piece of a man right off, eh? An arm, a leg. Whoosh! Gone.”

  Cory looked at Colon’s saddle. “That yours, or did the boys buy it for you?”

  “The saddle? She is mine,” Colon said, putting his hand on it. “A—how do you say—something from a better time?” He rubbed his hand over the shiny leather. “It is all I own anymore.”

  Cory recognized that the saddle had once cost a pretty penny. That meant that Rigoberto Colon had come from money at one time.

  “Ah,” Colon said, looking past Cory, “here come our two young lawmen. I suspect it is time for us to be on our way.”

  Cory turned his body sideways so he could watch Thomas and James approach without giving his back to the Mexican. A discussion of horses, saddles, and guns was not enough to bond two men together in trust—not yet, anyway.

  34

  “It’s gettin’ dark,” Simon Jacks said. “We should camp.”

  “We’ll keep goin’ awhile,” Ben Cardwell said.

  “What for?” Jacks asked. “You think there’s a posse out after us? Did you see any of them
townspeople try to help the law? They ain’t gonna get a posse together, Ben—leastways, not today.”

  “Maybe not,” Cardwell said, “but we’ll keep goin’ just the same.”

  “You worried about Davis?” Jacks asked. “Hell, he’s probably dead, and if he ain’t, he ain’t got the balls to come after us.”

  “Don’t sell Davis short,” Cardwell said. “If he’s mad enough—if any man’s mad enough—he’ll fight.”

  “So if he finds us, we kill him,” Jacks said. “You were gonna do that anyway.”

  “Simon,” Cardwell said impatiently, “we’ll ride a bit longer before we camp. I’m callin’ the shots here, not you, remember?”

  “Oh, I remember, Ben,” Jacks said. “I remember real well.”

  “Good,” Cardwell said, “so let’s get a move on.”

  Jacks followed Cardwell. There was no harm in letting the man continue to lead as long as it suited him. It had served them both well…so far.

  Sean Davis studied the ground, looking for the odd impression he knew would be left by either Ben Cardwell’s horse or Simon Jacks’s. One of them was riding an animal that stepped lightly with his rear left leg. It was going to make it easy for him to track them down—at least, one of them—and get his share of the bank money from them.

  He knew Ben Cardwell didn’t have much respect for him, but he was going to show him and Simon Jacks the error of their ways. Not only had they tried to cut him out his share, but they’d left him behind to be captured, or killed.

  He was going to show them how wrong they were.

  “You fellas gettin’ acquainted?” Thomas asked Ralph Cory and Rigoberto Colon.

  “Yeah,” Cory said, “just a bit.”

  “Un poquito.”

  “We’ll just saddle our horses and be right with you,” Thomas said. “Come on, James.”

  The two brothers entered the stable, leaving Colon and Cory behind.

  “I wonder why they’re comin’ with us?” James asked as they saddled their mounts. “I mean, nobody else in town wanted to volunteer. Why them?”

  “I get the feelin’ neither of them volunteered either.”

  “Whataya mean?”

  “I mean,” Thomas said, pulling the cinch tight on his saddle, “I think they’re only doin’ it because Pa asked them to.”

  “Why would they do that?” James wondered. “You think Pa knew them before we came to town?”

  “Probably not,” Thomas said, “but I think he knows them now.”

  “Well,” James said, “we’ll be on the trail with them. Maybe we’ll find out just who knows who.”

  Thomas turned his horse and waited for James to bring his around.

  “I don’t think they know each other,” he said. “They didn’t look real comfortable together, out there.”

  “Think maybe they got money in the bank?” James asked. “That’s why they agreed?”

  “Rigoberto doesn’t look like someone who has money, does he?” Thomas asked.

  As they walked their horses to the doors James said, “I never would have picked him for ridin’ in a posse either.”

  “Good point.”

  When they got outside, Cory and Colon were already mounted.

  “Some of these tracks have been trampled,” Cory said, “but I think we got a general direction.”

  “Let’s head that way, then,” Thomas said. “We’re losin’ daylight fast.”

  Cory and Colon exchanged a glance, then looked at Thomas and James.

  “Who takes the lead?” Cory asked.

  “Let’s start with you, Mr. Cory,” Thomas said, “and see how it goes from there.”

  “Okay,” Cory said, “and the name’s Ralph.”

  “Lead the way, Ralph,” Thomas said. “We’re right behind you.”

  Shaye dragged himself to the door and outside onto the boardwalk. From his vantage point he was able to watch the four riders leave town.

  “That’s the best you could do?” a voice asked.

  He turned and saw Mayor Timmerman standing there.

  “I don’t see you gettin’ on a horse, Mayor,” Shaye said, “and it was your daughter they killed.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Timmerman said. “I’d probably wind up getting one of your sons killed.”

  Shaye leaned against the wall and said, “I hate to admit it, but you have a point there.”

  “You couldn’t get more than four men?”

  “This is your town, Mayor,” Shaye said. “What do you think?”

  “Cowards,” Timmerman said sourly. “You know, there was a time people had pride in their town and would rise up and protect it when there was a need.”

  “Those days are long gone, Mayor,” Shaye said. “Now it’s up to two green deputies, a gunsmith, and a drunk.”

  Shaye limped back into the office and closed the door in Timmerman’s face.

  35

  “I can’t see a thing,” James said.

  “Quiet,” Thomas said.

  Ralph Cory was down on one knee, examining the ground in the waning light of the day.

  Rigoberto Colon rode up next to the brothers from his position rising drag.

  “Señor Cory has very good eyes,” he said. “One would think he once did this for a living, es verdad?”

  Thomas said, “I don’t know…maybe.”

  “What do you see, Rigoberto?” James asked.

  “I see nothing from here,” Colon said. “It is Señor Cory’s job. If he asks for my help, I will look.”

  James looked up at the sky. It wasn’t dark yet, but the moon had replaced the sun in the sky.

  “We should camp,” he said.

  “Wait,” his older brother said.

  “For what?”

  “Pa told us to use Mr. Cory and Berto,” Thomas said, “and that’s what I intend to do.”

  “One of you want to step down here?” Cory said then, over his shoulder.

  “Sit tight,” Thomas said, and dismounted. He walked over to where Cory was still crouched.

  “Come on down here,” Cory said, and Thomas got down into a crouch. Cory pointed. “See that?”

  Thomas leaned forward. “It’s the print we’ve been followin’,” he said, “isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Cory said, “and there.” He pointed again.

  “The horse that’s been ridin’ with it.”

  “Slightly longer stride on the right side,” Cory said.

  “How can that be?” Thomas asked.

  “What?”

  “Both horses have somethin’ unusual about their tracks.”

  Cory looked at Thomas. “If you have a good eye, no two tracks are alike.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Look there.” The man was pointing in yet a third direction, but still within arm’s length.

  “What’s that?” Thomas asked. “Tracks of a third horse?”

  “Very good,” Cory said. He reached down and brushed away some debris. “The third horse’s tracks have crossed those of the other two.”

  “Someone else is trackin’ them?”

  “Apparently,” Cory said. “Wasn’t there some mention of a third man?”

  “Yes, there was. The man who rode into town with Ben Cardwell, originally.”

  “Looks like maybe he didn’t appreciate being left behind.”

  Cory brushed his hands together and stood up, followed by Thomas.

  “What do you suggest we do now?” Thomas asked.

  Cory started to answer, then stopped and looked up at James and Colon.

  “Ask Señor Colon,” he suggested.

  “Rigoberto?” Thomas said. “What do you think?”

  “If someone is crossing their tracks, we’re going to need daylight,” Colon said immediately. “I suggest we camp here for the night and get an early start.”

  Thomas looked at Cory.

  “That’s what I suggest.”

  Thomas looked at James, said, “We’ll camp here.”
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  James let out an exasperated sigh and commented, “That’s what I said.”

  “Then it’s unanimous,” Thomas said to his brother, “isn’t it?”

  36

  Thomas took control and divided up the labor. Rigoberto look care of the horses. James got the fire going and was in charge of preparing something to eat. Thomas and Cory scouted the general area on foot, just in case.

  “If they’re close by, they’re going to see the fire, or smell what’s cooking,” Cory said.

  “Won’t make a difference,” Thomas said. “They gotta know we’re comin’ after what they done, don’t you think?”

  “I suppose.”

  “I get the feelin’ you more than suppose, Mr. Cory.”

  “What’s that mean, Deputy?”

  “Means my pa knows somethin’ about you that I don’t,” Thomas replied, “but I aim to find out what it is.”

  “How do you intend to do that?”

  “Maybe I’ll just ask.”

  “Well,” Cory said, “maybe when you do, I’ll just answer. I hear a stream. Think I’ll fill all the canteens.”

  They went back to camp, and when Cory left with the canteens, Thomas stayed.

  “We haven’t come that far, you know,” James said.

  “We’ll make up some time tomorrow.”

  “What do we do if Davis catches up to them first?”

  “James, we’re just gonna get the money back from whoever we catch up to.”

  “And take them back to Vengeance Creek to hang for killin’ Nancy,” James added.

  “Is that what you want to do?” Thomas asked.

  “Whataya mean?”

  “I had the feelin’ you just wanted to kill them. You know, for killin’ your girl and all.”

  “Thomas, I’m not stupid.”

  “I never said you were, little brother.”

  “I know Nancy wasn’t my gal,” James went on. “Hell, I never said more than two words to her at the bank, and that was when I was makin’ a deposit.”

  Thomas remained silent, even though that was the way he’d had it figured.

  “But who knows what woulda happened if I ever did get up the gumption to talk to her?” James finished. “Now I’ll never know.”

  “I understand, James,” Thomas said.

  “I’ll have somethin’ for us to eat in a few minutes,” James said, dropping some bacon into a frying pan.

 

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