The Devil's Bonanza (A Piccadilly Publishing Western Book

by Patrick E. Andrews

  “Godamn it!” Ben yelled. “Get up by them trees. If we stay here they can pin us down for sure.”

  They hung onto their saddles as their horses struggled up the side of the draw and into the cover offered by a skimpy grove of trees and brush.

  “Hey,” Doss shouted. “They’ve swung around to the other side.”

  “Lord have mercy!” Buford Turnbull said. “This is awful!”

  “It’ll be a damn sight worse if we don’t run them bastards off or shoot ’em all,” Ben said. “Hey! Here they come again!”

  The Brethren rode toward the concealed sodbusters shooting from their saddles. The farmers responded with a ragged volley that spilled one horse, forcing the Brethren to a halt. The attackers retreated once again after sending more bullets flying into the trees.

  “Is ever’body all right?” Buford called out loudly.

  Ben laughed derisively. “Hey, anybody’s that got kilt just yell out to the preacher to let him know you’re dead.”

  Doss licked his lips, the cold sweat of fear soaking his clothing. He hadn’t known the feeling since he’d charged the Confederate soldiers in that sunken road at Antietam twenty-two years earlier. He looked over at Becky huddled behind a tree. “How are you doing, Missy?”

  “I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Kearns.”

  “You stay down,” Doss urged her.

  Two shots smacked into the nearby trees, sending twigs spinning off into the air. Ben took a look around. “They’re coming on foot. Watch for ’em to pop up on us.”

  A figure leaped from the grass and ran a few feet toward them before dropping out of sight again. Five late shots from the farmers flew harmlessly over the man’s head.

  “Let ’em get closer,” Ben ordered. “There ain’t that many of the son of a bitches.”

  Two more of the Brethren appeared as they tried rushing forward. The bullets they attracted whipped above them as they quickly ducked down again.

  “They cain’t get to us without showing theyselves,” Doss the ex-soldier yelled. “All we got to do is make our shots count. Stop wasting ammunition.”

  He had no sooner spoken than another of the attackers tried to run from one place of concealment to another. The shooting from the farmer’s shared position cut him down before he’d gone a dozen steps.

  Ben laughed again. “One at a time, but we’re getting ’em.”

  Back in the tall grass of a nearby knoll, Chasseur observed the fighting from his vantage point. It was obvious the attackers were not thinking their situation through well enough. He could see their tracker arguing with the leader until the latter gave a signal for the rest of them to regroup around hm.

  The half-breed couldn’t make out the words they were speaking but it seemed they had decided to call off their efforts. Sure enough, less than five minutes later, after gathering up the horses of their dead, they mounted up and withdrew from the scene.

  Doss Kearns, crouching at the edge of the sodbusters’ position, peered outward. “I hear hooves, but they don’t seem to be coming this way.”

  “Ever’body stand ready,” Ben ordered. “Them bastard are gonna try something.”

  “Buford?” Doss called about.

  “Yeah,” the preacher answered. “I got my eyes peeled.”

  Doss shouted again. “How about you, Zachary?”

  “I cain’t do nothing but twitch I’m so dang nervous,” the youngster called back.

  “Ed?” Doss called. There was no answer. “How’re you doing, Ed?” He looked over to where the farmer lay on his stomach, appearing to be observing around a mound of sod. “Hey, Ed!” Doss crawled over to him and shook his boot. “What do you say, friend?” When Ed failed to answer, Doss rolled him over.

  The bottom half of his jaw stayed in the dirt.

  “Oh, God!” Doss exclaimed.

  Ben, ignoring any danger, leaped to his feet and ran to his brother. He stopped short at the sight. “Aw, Christ! He was hit in the face.”

  Buford joined them. “He sure was. It looks like he bled to death.”

  Ben sank to his knees. “Brother Ed, oh, Brother Ed! God above, what’s Elviry gonna say?”

  Becky came over and grimaced. She’d seen similar cadavers after gunfights in the saloon in Caldera. “Poor Mr. McKenna. He was such a nice man too.”

  “He died saving his home, boys,” Buford Turnbull said.

  “Ed did die for his family and farm, didn’t he?” Doss said in agreement.

  “And he died victorious,” Buford added. He lay a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

  “Yeah, I reckon he did,” Ben said softly. He took a deep sobbing breath then looked out over the surrounding prairie. “Them godamn Brethren won’t be back, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m afraid they will, Ben,” Becky said. “Elder Brother won’t give up so easy.”

  Zachary Steuben joined them. Once again he stood ready with his shovel to dig yet another grave. Buford went to rummage through his belongings for his Bible.

  Zachary and Doss took turns digging the grave for Ed. Meanwhile Ben tended to his brother’s corpse, tenderly laying him on his bedroll. After placing Ed’s hands on his chest, he folded the blankets over the body, securing both ends with a strip of rawhide cord he had pulled from his saddle.

  It took three quarters of an hour to scoop out a three-foot deep grave while Buford stood guard at the edge of the draw. Then Ben, Zachary and Doss gently placed the dead man in his last resting place.

  Ben looked down at his brother. “I’d like to be able to come back and dig him up to be buried in the church cemetery on the Flats.”

  Doss shook his head. “It cain’t be done, Ben. A wagon trip like that across country wouldn’t be practical.”

  “I could sling him over a mule’s back,” Ben said.

  “He’d be so far gone you’d have to put him in a gunny sack,” Doss pointed out.

  “I reckon you’re right,” Ben conceded sadly.

  Now Buford Turnbull joined them. “Ever’body take off your hats.” He waited while the group complied, then he opened his Bible and began to read. “Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall change his vile body, that it may be like unto his glorious body, according to the mighty working, whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself…amen.”

  “Amen,” the others repeated.

  Ben took the shovel from Zachary. “I’ll put the dirt on him.”

  After the short funeral service, Chasseur spent the rest of the afternoon watching the sodbusters from his place of concealment not many yards away. They heeded Becky’s advice and stayed in their concealed position for a half hour before coming out to see if any of the Brethren were still in the area. When they were convinced the attackers were truly gone, Ben wasted no time urging them to secure their gear and renew the trip to Amarillo.

  Chasseur knew it was time for him to act. He decided to ride north to the cabin in the Indian Territory where the rest of the gunfighters waited. From their they could launch their interception of the sodbusters after they sold their gold and headed for Kansas and home.

  With visions of all the cash money about to be crammed into his buckskin britches, Chasseur spurred his horse southeast to get the ambush set up as quickly as possible.

  ~*~

  The sudden contraction brought a scream from Edna Lee Steuben that seemed to bounce off the house walls. Elvira McKenna wiped the girl’s face with a wet cloth. “Ever’thing’s fine, honey, you just let loose whenever you want to.”

  “Oh, sweet Lord,” Edna Lee said, panting. She lay on the bed with her legs spread as the labor pains rippled across her enlarged abdomen.

  “They’re coming about ever’ two minutes,” Nora Turnbull said from the other side of the bed.
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br />   Edna Lee yelled again as the next contraction racked her. Then she quieted down. “They hurt so,” she gasped.

  “That’s the way it’s supposed to be,” Elvira said. “And don’t worry none. The first’un’s the worstest.”

  “There ain’t gonna be no more,” Edna Lee said weakly.

  “That’s been said many a time by many a woman,” Nora remarked unimpressed. “There’ll be plenty more childbeds for you, young lady.”

  “But it’s taking so long,” Edna Lee wailed just in time to yell out again as another pain flowed across her stomach.

  “It’s been awhile and that’s for sure,” Elvira said, once again wiping the girl’s sweating face. “It takes time.”

  “Oh, where is Zachary?” Edna Lee cried. “Why ain’t he with me?”

  “Even if he was around we wouldn’t let him in here,” Nora said. “The most useless thing at a time like this is a husband.”

  “I think it’s time for you to bear down with each squeeze,” Elvira instructed the mother-to-be.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Edna Lee said.

  “It’ll help the baby get birthed faster,” Nora added.

  The two older women ministered to the girl for the next two hours as she worked hard at getting her child born. Finally the time had come, and Elvira jumped into action.

  “Bear down, honey, I can see the top of his head.”

  “Oof!” Edna Lee said from the effort. “Is it a boy?”

  “I cain’t tell yet, sugar. I said I can only see his head.”

  “But…oof…you said his head.”

  “Never mind you just keep working, hear?” Nora interrupted. “It’ll be over soon.”

  “Ever’thing is wonderful honey,” Elvira assured her. “The baby’s head is turning just like it’s supposed to. Bear down!”

  She supported the infant as the birth continued uninterrupted. Finally the child was free and immediately yowled his protest at the rough episode he had just experienced.

  “A boy!” Elvira exclaimed. “You have a little boy, Edna Lee.”

  Edna Lee sighed and lay her head back on the pillow. Elvira and Nora still had work to do in tying the cord and tending to the placenta when it was expelled. They had done it many times before and within a very short time both mother and baby were at ease.

  “Let’s go outside for a bit,” Elvira said.

  Nora followed her from the stuffy house and they went to the shade provided by the eave of the roof to avoid the late afternoon sun.

  “She done all right,” Nora said.

  “I reckon,” Elvira agreed. “Especial if you take into consideration she’s worried about her man.”

  “Ain’t we all?” Nora asked.

  Elvira was quiet for several long moments, then sighed loudly, the sound evolving into a sob. Nora put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Why, Elviry, whatever’s come over you?”

  Elvira turned to Nora and embraced her. “Oh, Nora, I’m so ascared.”

  “Now, now, darling,” Nora said soothingly. “Don’t take on so. Ever’thing’s gonna be just fine. You’ll see.”

  “I got this terrible feeling just as if Ed had hollered out to me,” Elvira said. “And I cain’t shake it.”

  “Don’t you break down on me, Elviry McKenna!” Nora begged. “Not you of all people.”

  “I’m sorry,” Elvira said, crying softly. “But something’s bad happened. I know it deep in my soul, I truly do.”

  “Don’t take on so,” Nora said. “Any day now them rascals is gonna come riding up with lots of cash money to end our troubles.”

  “I pray you’re right.”

  “O’course I am,” Nora said. “Now let’s go back inside and take care of that new mother and baby, hear?”

  ~*~

  J.R. Dawkins, still tied tightly to the tree, wondered how long he would live before he died of thirst. He had fainted several times, but the ropes that bound the farmer held him upright.

  He tried countless times to work himself free, but the restraints were too strong. He was just about to try again when he heard the sound of horses’ hooves. He wildly hoped it would be the other farmers, but when he saw it was the Brethren, his mood fell. They reined up in front of him.

  J.R. raised his battered face. “Won’t you fellers untie me? I cain’t feel my arms or nothing.”

  “You be still, Outsider!” Deacon Daniel warned him. “I think things are about to get much more unpleasant for you.”

  The group dismounted, and Elder Brother immediately fell to his knees and raised his hands skyward in his praying posture.

  “Lord God above! We have returned from a holy battle to do thy will. Yet we were defeated. The Outsiders struck us down at their pleasure. The souls of three of our brothers are now with thee. I do not complain, O Lord, rather I seek guidance from thee so that I may see where my path on this quest has strayed. What sins have we committed? How have we offended thee? I pray for thee to give me a sign and the wisdom to lead my people in this mission of righteous vengeance.”

  He lowered his hands and bowed his head, kneeling in the same spot for several long moments. Finally he gasped and collapsed to the earth.

  Deacon Daniel and the others rushed to his side. “Elder Brother is having a revelation,” the scout told the others. “As soon as he comes to, he’ll tell us about it. Let’s get a bedroll laid out for him, and put him down on it.”

  Brother Uziel said, “Once when this happened he slept for three days.”

  J.R. called out again, his voice weak and quaking. “Cain’t y’all loosen these ropes at least? My arms is numb as can be.”

  None of the Brethren paid him any attention. They sank to the ground to wait for their leader to return to the world of the living. Deacon Daniel moaned, “We’ve lost our brothers Abijah, Joab and Coniah. That makes a total of nine who’ve been kilt by them Outsiders. It’s more’n a feller can bear. I swear it is!”

  “It was that sinning vixen Hephzibah,” Brother Elisha said. “She’s as evil as Eve was in the Garden of Eden.”

  “Would y’all be kind enough to give me a drink of water?” J.R. begged. He looked at them as best he could through his swollen eyelids. “Please, fellers, I ain’t had nothing to drink all day.” He waited until it was obvious they were not going to grant his request. “God above!” he screamed. “Ain’t ya’ll got no pity?”

  Deacon Daniel suddenly leaped to his feet and ran over to the farmer. He delivered three quick, hard slaps to his face; then doubled his fist and drove it straight into J.R.’s nose. “Pity? It’s pity you’re talking about?” the deacon yelled. “On account of you and your bunch I found six of my friends laying shot dead in the bottom of a mine shaft looking like they was slaughtered sheep. I just left three more of ’em dead on the prairie. How much pity do you think you can expect from me and my brothers, you damned-to-hell bandit?”

  “I’m just an ol’ farm boy, that’s all I am,” J.R. moaned. “I ain’t no outlaw or nothing. I got a wife and kids and a farm in Kansas. And I do want to see ’em again. I don’t want to go to Californy no more. I want my Mary Beth.” He began sobbing. “Let me go back to her, boys. We’re gonna lose our farm to the bank. But I don’t care no more. Let me go home to Mary Beth. Please, boys.”

  “Deacon Daniel!” Brother Pascal called. “Elder Brother is waking up.”

  Their leader lay on his back with his eyes wide open to the darkening sky. He rolled over and got to his feet very slowly, then walked trance-like around the area for several minutes before he stopped. He turned his gaze to the Brethren and spoke in a loud clear voice.

  “We shall let the Outsiders go to Amarillo and cash in the gold. We shall form a half circle around the north side of the town in small groups. Those that see them first will summon the others. Then we will ambush them to exact our vengeance. Thus, our victory will be complete.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to get some extry help, Elder Brother,” Deacon Daniel said.

  Elder
Brother pointed to Brother Uziel. “You go back to the settlement for reinforcements while the rest of us track the Outsiders.”

  “Yes, Elder Brother,” Uziel replied. “How many should I bring?”

  “Seven,” Elder Brother answered. “That will make us an even dozen. Be sure all are fully armed. And one more thing; take the gold this Outsider had in his saddlebags back with you.”

  “Yes, Elder Brother. Where shall I find you?”

  “On the north side of Amarillo,” Elder Brother told him. “We will be looking for you to appear.” He turned toward J.R. and pointed at him. “But the first task is to send that infidel’s soul to hellfire for eternity. Hang him!”

  “Hey,” J.R. yelled. “You cain’t do that!”

  Deacon Daniel and two others untied their prisoner, then bound his hands behind his back. A crude noose was quickly knotted, then thrown over a tree branch. Daniel slid the rope over J.R.’s head and pulled it taut. The trio tugged on the rope and dragged him up until only his toes touched the ground. He choked and coughed, then by Elder Brother’s order, they lowered him.

  “Oh, please, God, save me!” J.R. wailed.

  Once again they pulled on the rope and this time the sodbuster was lifted far enough off the ground to swing free. Elder Brother motioned them to lower him again.

  “No! No! Mary Beth, make ’em stop it!”

  Again the brutal routine began and Elder Brother ended it.

  “Mama! Mama!” J.R. pleaded in a voice that was only a hoarse whisper now.

  Finally, J.R. was hoisted up until his boots were a yard off the prairie sod. He gurgled and kicked until his motions became a quick quivering before coming to a stop.

  “This grove of trees is cursed,” Elder Brother said. “Now we must go to the place where we fought. The Outsiders will be gone by now. We shall bury the mortal remains of our dead brothers. That plot of ground shall become a sacred place from now until the end of this sinful world.”

  “So be it by the Communal Faith!” the Brethren chanted together.

  Elder Brother gazed on them with fire in his eyes, pointing to the corpse of J.R. Dawkins that hung at the end of a rope. “The final step of our plan of wrath has begun. All the other Outsiders shall die as miserably as this one.”