by Neil Hunter
For a moment Jacob rested his head on his arms. His shoulder was still bleeding, badly too. He could feel it soaking its way down his back. He was starting to hurt now. The big man’s bullet had made a fair-sized hole, and if he didn’t do something soon he was going to be in bad trouble.
And then he heard horses approaching. Two, maybe three of them. Jacob cocked his gun, tried to place the source of the sound. He realised they were coming from his rear. Frustration ran through him, followed by anger at his own helplessness. Pinned as he was he couldn’t even turn and face them. They could ride in on him and there was nothing he could do.
The horses came closer, stopped. Jacob tensed. He heard the creak of saddle-leather, then the sound of steady boot steps. He saw a shadow fall across him. Jacob brought his gun around, tipped the barrel up, knowing that if he got the slightest chance he’d make the most of it.
And then someone said, ‘Easy there, Jacob, I’m not looking for trouble,’ and Jacob raised his eyes, found himself looking into the face of his brother Seth. He wondered if he was dreaming, maybe delirious, and he was certain of it when Nancy’s face joined Seth’s. She looked so clean and fresh and so beautiful that Jacob knew he was seeing things. He had to be. But then Nancy knelt beside him, took his face in her hands, spoke to him, and Jacob knew damn well that it was no dream. Nancy was real. So was Seth. And he was alive, maybe only just, but he was alive.
He tried to smile at Nancy, but he wasn’t sure if he managed it. ‘I missed you,’ he told her, and he’d never spoken a truer word.
Chapter Eleven
During the following week Nancy hardly ever left Jacob’s side. He spent the first three days mostly sleeping, his body slowly regaining the strength he’d spent, and lost, while he’d engaged the Retfords. His two wounds hadn’t done a thing to make his condition any better, but plenty of rest, good food, and the constant care that Nancy gave him, all helped to get him back on his feet again.
Youngtown basked beneath a cloudless sky. The season was at its hottest, and Youngtown got the full force of the sun’s downpour. It became almost too hot to move around. The air stifled, and just thinking about moving seemed to make a man sweat.
Seth Tyler spent most of his time taking slow rides on the outskirts of town. He told Jacob he was exercising his leg, getting used to being in the saddle again. This was partly true. But Seth’s main reason for his daily rides was something far beyond merely exercising a stiff leg. Seth was keeping his eyes open for the appearance of the Retfords. In any form, whether it was in a bunch, or just one man come to figure out the lay of the land.
What he’d learned from both Nancy and Frank Cooper was enough to let him know that the Retford bunch wouldn’t give up. Not now, not ever. The age-old ritual of family vengeance, eye-for-eye, was too much a part of this country to ever be brushed aside lightly. The fact that Jacob had whittled the Retfords down to practically zero meant nothing. As long as there was one of them left it would never be over. To Seth it was a senseless code of living, but for all that, he knew the situation to be deadly in the extreme. It was clear and simple — Kyle Retford wanted Jacob dead, and he would try to achieve that end no matter what it cost.
Four days back Seth had sent off a letter to Brigham, explaining the situation, and asking Brig to send down a couple of his men. Seth and Jacob needed help, and Seth wasn’t so proud that he couldn’t ask for it. Just what they were going to have to face when the Retfords came, he didn’t know, but whatever it was he wanted to be prepared.
Frank Cooper had taken them into his house, and he and his young wife had done everything they could to make things easy for Jacob. Cooper had made it clear that he would stand by them if trouble came, but Seth — speaking for Jacob as well — said that he had no intention of bringing trouble into Youngtown. The fight was a personal thing between the Retfords and Seth and Jacob, and there was no justification in allowing the people of Youngtown to get involved. Cooper had said no more on the matter, but Seth knew that the lawman was ready to make a stand if trouble did come. Seth began to hope that Brig acted on his letter fast, so that he could get Jacob and Nancy out of Youngtown.
By the end of the first week Jacob was able to sit up and take notice. He was still pretty weak, and Seth realised it was going to be some time before Jacob would be able to ride back to Hope. Seth kept off the subject of the Retfords, and Nancy, noticing his approach, wisely followed suit. Jacob soon realised he was being put off, however. He knew damn well that Seth had something up his sleeve, but Seth wasn’t talking. Jacob let it go, for he knew that if things did start to happen Seth would let him in on things more than soon enough.
He let himself relax, enjoying the pampering Nancy afforded him, knowing that once he was back on his feet there would be little time for such luxuries. He had to admit to himself that he was still feeling under the mark. He tired easily, and he had little strength. But his appetite increased with each day that passed, and Jacob knew that to be a sign he was getting better.
The days drifted by. For the people of Youngtown life carried on its normal course. Little that was out of the ordinary took place. That was until one hazy afternoon when two men rode into town, dismounted outside the saloon and went in.
Seth was on the boardwalk outside Frank Cooper’s gun shop. He was sitting on the long bench against the shop front. To any eye he looked to be asleep, just a lazy man doing some time-wasting in the hot sun. Nothing could have been further from the truth. There hadn’t been a thing that had happened on the street that he hadn’t seen all the while he’d been there.
He watched the two riders come in, go into the saloon. Seth got up and went into the shop.
‘Frank,’ he said, ‘do something for me.’
Cooper glanced up from his bench. He saw the look on Seth’s face. ‘I smell trouble.’
‘I could be wrong,’ Seth told him. ‘Two men just rode in. Strangers I’d say. I read them as hired-guns. They’re in the saloon. Like you to take a look. See if you know them.’
Cooper picked up his hat and went out of the shop. Through the gun shop window, Seth watched him go down the street and into the saloon.
‘You think Kyle Retford sent them?’
Seth turned. Nancy was in the doorway that led into the living quarters in back of the shop. Her face reflected her concern, as if she were saying to herself, Here it is. Now it starts again.
‘Hey, there, don’t you stand around creasing up that pretty face like that.’
‘Was I?’ she asked. She came into the shop, stared through the window. ‘Are you going to tell Jacob?’
‘No.’ Seth leaned against the wall, his eyes on the saloon down the street. ‘I don’t see any profit in telling him. If he knows there may be a couple of Retford’s hired-guns out there he’s just liable to get up and go after them in his nightshirt. And he just isn’t well enough.’
‘It would have been quicker to say, ‘Nancy, don’t tell him’.’
Seth smiled. ‘I guess it would.’
They saw Frank Cooper come out of the saloon. Seth stepped outside and met him on the boardwalk. Cooper looked grimly serious as he took off his hat and ran his kerchief round the sweatband.
‘You were right, Seth. I know their faces. Heard tell about them too. Yancy Corbin and Jay Sudbrac. They’ve got pretty grim reputations down around this part of the country. The saying is if a man can meet their price, then they’ll go after anyone. And they were asking around after a man and a girl riding together, and the description fits Nancy and Jacob.’
Seth raised his eyes towards the saloon. As he did Corbin and Sudbrac walked out of the saloon. They stood on the boardwalk, shadowed by the saloon’s veranda roof.
‘What can we do?’ Cooper asked. He stepped up beside Seth, his hand close to the gun he wore.
‘Stay out of this, Frank,’ Seth said, and before Cooper could say a word, Seth stepped off the boardwalk and started across the street.
Jay Sudbrac came to the edge
of the saloon boardwalk and watched Seth walking across the street. He sensed something in the way the big man walked, and he drew Corbin to his side with a flick of his hand.
‘You know him?’ Corbin asked.
‘He fits Tyler’s description pretty good,’ Sudbrac said.
‘Maybe. But his health is too good for a shot-up man.’
‘You figure he’s kin?’
Corbin shrugged. ‘He gets in the way it’ll make the family two short.’
Sudbrac laughed menacingly.
Seth stopped about twelve feet from the boardwalk. He put his gaze from one to the other before he spoke.
‘Kyle Retford must be getting short of funds if he has to hire scum like you to do his dirty work.’
Anger coloured Yancy Corbin’s unshaven face. ‘Mister, I don’t know who you are, but I’ll be finding out when I read your tombstone.’
‘Name’s Seth Tyler. Brother of the man Kyle Retford’s paying you to most probably back shoot. You’re Corbin and Sudbrac, and I’m going to give you no time at all to go for your guns before I start shooting.’
Sudbrac threw a hasty glance at Corbin. He was confused, angry, and for the first time in his life he was unsure of himself. It was a feeling that only lasted for a few seconds, for as he looked at Yancy he saw that his partner was already going for his gun, and Sudbrac knew suddenly that Seth Tyler was not trying to bluff them. His challenge was real and final, and there was only one way out of it. Jay Sudbrac went for his gun, felt it slide free, sensed the hammer going back beneath his thumb. He arced the gun up, knowing that it would line up on Tyler, and in seconds it would all be over.
The first shot cleaved the hot air, followed by a second, then four more, all close, the separate sounds merging into one rolling crackle.
In the instant of the first shot Jay Sudbrac felt a savage blow strike his chest. Pain followed it, pain so strong it numbed him, stopping him even crying out. He felt himself pushed back by an invisible hand. He turned on his heel and thrust out his hands as he felt himself falling, but he had no control and he plunged headfirst through the saloon’s painted and gilded front window.
As his bullet hit Sudbrac, Seth turned slightly, dropping into a crouch as his gun lined up on Yancy Corbin, but as he turned, his still weak leg gave way under him and he fell sideways. As it was the fall saved him from Corbin’s first shot. Seth let himself fall, then rolled, coming round on to his stomach, pushing his cocked gun forward, tilting it up. He saw Corbin, saw the gunman’s moving weapon, knew it would only be a second before Corbin fired. Tripping his trigger Seth dogged back the hammer and fired again, then a third time, and on the heels of his third shot Corbin’s gun discharged, the bullet ploughing into the dirt close by Seth’s left hip. Then Corbin was down, his gun spilling from his fingers as he fell on to his face, sliding limply down the steps onto the dusty street.
Seth got up slowly. His leg was aching. He began to reload his gun as Frank Cooper joined him, with Nancy close behind.
‘Seth, you hurt?’ Cooper asked.
Seth shook his head. He put his gun away, went over to where Corbin lay and checked to see if he was still alive. But Corbin was dead, and so was Sudbrac when Seth had a look at him.
‘Now you can see why I don’t want to bring Retford into Youngtown. We were lucky this time. There were only two of them. Next time it could be a dozen, maybe more. Retford is mean enough to burn this town to the ground to get what he wants.’
Seth walked back towards the gun shop, limping slightly. Nancy followed him, looking back over her shoulder at the crowd that was gathering around the two bodies. She shivered despite the heat. Suddenly she wanted to leave Youngtown, to get away from this part of the country altogether, although she knew that doing so wouldn’t solve the problem. Kyle Retford was the kind of man who had a long arm, and it would reach far.
Chapter Twelve
Brigham Tyler rode into Youngtown two days after Seth’s shoot-out with Sudbrac and Corbin. He rode in just before noon, and he was alone. Reining in before Frank Cooper’s place he dismounted and was in the act of removing his saddlebags when Seth stepped out on to the boardwalk.
‘Brig, you look tired,’ Seth remarked.
Brigham stroked his unshaven face. ‘I feel it,’ he said. ‘That’s no Sunday-morning ride down from Hope.’
‘Hot and dry,’ Seth smiled.
Brigham nodded. ‘And some.’ He stepped up on to the boardwalk. ‘How’s Jacob?’
‘Better. Still weak, though.’
‘Your leg?’
Seth shrugged. ‘Doc figures it ain’t going to fall off after all,’ he said.
‘Looks like I’m the only one fit to be on my feet. And I ain’t feeling too spritely at the present. Hope this Retford feller holds off ‘til I get some sleep.’
Seth led the way into the rear of the store, taking Brigham to Jacob’s room. Jacob was sitting up in bed, Nancy sitting on a hard-backed chair beside the bed.
‘Hey, Brig, how are you, boy,’ Jacob grinned as Brigham came into the room.
After introductions had been made Brigham sat on the edge of Jacob’s bed. He shook his head slowly at Jacob in mock reproof. ‘Always did say you weren’t growed enough to leave home on your own.’
‘Brig, I damn well wish I hadn’t.’
‘I reckon this Retford feller wishes the same by now. I reckon you must have just about wiped him out.’
Nancy said, ‘As long as he can hire men and guns he won’t ever be finished. Kyle Retford is a vengeful man. Jacob’s done more to him than any man living and he’ll never let it lie.’
‘Jacob,’ Seth said, and when his brother glanced at him, he went on, ‘I had Brig contact the U.S. Marshal’s Office before he came down here. Figured maybe we could use a little official help on this.’
Jacob’s face hardened for a moment, and it seemed that he was about to have words with Seth. Then he visibly relaxed. A quick smile touched his face. ‘One time I might have been mad at that idea. What the hell, Seth, there’s been enough bloodshed over this damned affair. I don’t want any more. If somebody can get Retford to see sense I’ll back up any play he wants to make.’
Seth caught Brigham’s eye and a look of relief passed between them. They both knew Jacob’s quick temper, his opposition to outside interference in personal matters. Jacob was a loner, a man who sorted out his own problems his own way. But he wasn’t a stupid man, and there comes a time when even independence has to give way to outside influence.
‘I’d better get cleaned up,’ Brigham said.
His words broke the silence that had descended. Seth followed Brigham out of the room, leaving Nancy alone with Jacob.
After a moment she leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek.
‘For what?’ Jacob asked.
‘Diplomacy,’ Nancy said. ‘You were boiling mad because Seth sent for the marshal, but you eased off.’
‘Seth was right. This thing could go on forever if we left it to Kyle Retford. Always was Seth who sat and figured out the sensible way to solve a problem.’
‘You’re a lucky man, Jacob. Must be nice to belong to a family like yours. People always there to help when you need it. No questions asked. No criticism. Just help.’
‘Hey, you forgetting something?’
Nancy glanced at him. ‘What?’
‘You’re part of that family now, and don’t you ever worry about having to wait for help. You hear? Not ever.’
Nancy nodded. ‘Yes, Jacob. I do hear.’
She stayed with him for a little longer, then left him so he could rest. In the kitchen she found Brigham, now washed and shaved, having a meal. Seth was there too. He brought her a mug of coffee as she sat down.
‘Any idea when the marshal might arrive?’ Nancy asked.
Brigham glanced up from his plate. ‘He won’t be coming here,’ he told her. ‘We arranged to meet up at Blanco Station.’
‘It’s a stage-stop,’ Seth said, ‘just below
the border with Colorado. Marshal will be coming in on the stage from Amarillo. They’re sending a man named Alvin LeRoy. I’ve heard about him. He’s a good man. I figure he should be able to give us some sound help.’
‘Oh, I hope so,’ Nancy said. Her voice was suddenly very small and forlorn.
Brigham reached out a hand and touched her arm. ‘Easy now, Nancy, it ain’t all darkness. We’ll come out of this walking tall, you take my word.’
Nancy smiled. ‘I ... I hear that you’re waiting to become a proud father.’
Seth gave an almost apologetic cough. ‘Hell, Brig, I forgot to ask. How’s Judith coming along?’
Brigham grinned then, his eyes lighting up with pleasure. ‘It’s already over,’ he said. ‘We had a son a week ago. Seth, you’re an uncle.’
Seth smiled. ‘Well hell, Brig, you beat us all.’
When Jacob heard the news he was delighted. He didn’t seem to be able to get over it. Every time he looked at Brigham he would smile gently and shake his head. The thought of being an uncle tickled him, too. It was a side to Jacob that few had ever seen before, Brigham and Seth included. Jacob was still trying to adjust to the fact that his younger brother was now a father when they all rode out of Youngtown two days later.
They headed north, taking the trail that would eventually bring them to the stage-stop at Blanco Station. Though none of them knew it there and then, it was going to be a time in their lives that none of them would ever forget.
As the Tylers rode out of Youngtown, aiming for Blanco Station, a lone rider rode away from town. He drove his horse hard and fast as he took the news to Kyle Retford that the quarry was on the move.
Chapter Thirteen
The ride was long and hard. They were passing through dry, harsh territory; the land supported little, mostly cactus and mesquite. On the higher ground there was paloverde and cat claw. Sometimes the dusty soil gave way to stretches of barren lava beds, tortured layers of once molten rock turned black and brittle. Here there was little; clumps of cholla grass and bisnaga, little else. They would ride over these islands of rock until they were able to get back on to the comparative softness of the near desert land that stretched endlessly around them. Above them by day the sun bore down without let up, and at night they sat around their fire, staving out the chill with hot coffee.