He smiled. “I am hurrying, but you’d better take the money now or it’ll be heading to Calloway’s Gulch.”
“What do you—?” Baxter flinched as a huge explosion ripped out nearby.
Grace had lit the fuse at just the right time. Rocks from Chester’s dam hurtled into the air as if they were thrown pebbles, a huge cloud of dust blossoming out from a blast that had ripped the top of the hill away. Then the dammed creek surged out from beneath the dust, a trickle at first, but growing to become a solid wave rippling down the gully.
“Here comes the water,” Trip said. “It’ll take the money with it. What are you going to do?”
Baxter turned to confront Trip, his gun arcing down to aim at him. Trip dropped to his knees and hurled the wads into the bag. As he shoveled, the water surged toward him, closing at a relentless pace and now under one hundred yards away.
“Hurry!” Baxter shouted from the top of the bank and even edging a few paces down the bank toward him.
Trip broke off with several wads still on the ground.
“I’m going as fast as I can, unless you want me to leave it for the water to take.”
“Quit wasting time.”
With the first surge of water fifty yards away and a towering wall of water another ten yards back, he stayed on his knees until every last bill was in the bag. By then the first trickle of water was lapping at his feet.
He yanked the bag up, loose bills spilling away to land in the water, and ran for the bank, but already the wall of water was closing on him. He thrust his head down and ran, but he slipped in the shallow water and went to his knees and when he came up, the huge surge of water was looming over him.
“Throw me the bag,” Baxter shouted.
Trip yanked back his arm and launched the bag toward Baxter, but his weak throw let it land halfway up the bank and ten feet away from him. As the approaching water would sweep Trip and the bag away within seconds, Baxter rushed down the bank.
His hand closed on the bag handle and he tugged it up, but then grunted as a length of the bank fell away beneath his feet. He tumbled straight down, the deep hole that Milton had dug there and covered with matting and dirt giving way to plummet him downward.
It would take Baxter only seconds to fight his way out, but Trip reckoned the water would do the main damage. As Baxter vented his anger by firing high, Trip bolted up the bank, the water tearing at his heels, and threw himself over the top of the bank to lie flat.
He swirled around on his belly as the water surged by, some falling away to pile into the hole. Baxter’s hand clawed up over the edge of the hole and dug into the ground, but then the force of the water yanked that hand away and a moment later the water filled the hole with muddy, swirling water.
Amid the water, Baxter’s body bobbed to the surface, but by then, he was another thirty yards down the creek. When Adam and Isaac came out of the saloon to join him in standing on the top of the bank, the creek was returning to its former placid self. By now, Adam’s fortune and Baxter had been swept away into the main river.
Chapter Fourteen
TRIP SLAPPED ADAM’S back as he offered his commiserations about the loss of the money.
“I’d hoped I could entice Baxter into falling into the hole without losing the money,” he said. “I’m sorry I failed.”
Adam shrugged. “I should have known it’d come to this when I ran Milton out of town instead of shooting him.”
“You could never do that to your own brother.”
Adam snorted. “Try losing eighteen thousand dollars because of that useless varmint and then say that.”
Trip had one small piece of good news and he decided to wait until Grace returned before revealing it, but unlike the previous time Trip had survived a seemingly inevitable death, when she hurried back into the crossing, she didn’t appear pleased to see him. She flounced to a halt before the saloon and stood with one leg thrust out and her arms folded, her flaring eyes driving all thought of the good news from Trip’s mind.
“Well?” she demanded.
“I’m obliged for your help,” he said. “Again.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Trip Kincaid, you’re either the most stupid man I’ve ever met, or the most stupid man in the world. Which is it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Grace sighed. “What did you say before Marshal Kaplan arrested you?”
Trip tracked back over the events of the last few hours until he remembered they had argued after he’d said something he shouldn’t have.
He shrugged. “Ah, but I’ve been arrested, released, nearly got shot by a gunslinger and nearly got drowned. Surely my stupid comment about you distracting me isn’t that important after all that.”
“It might not be important to you, but if I’m ever going to get serious about you again, it is to me.”
Trip took a deep breath. “In that case, I need to say sorry for what I said.”
She walked up to him, slapped his right arm and then narrowed her eyes and slapped his other arm.
“I can’t believe you thought I’d helped to steal the money.”
“I just did me some thinking and the way I saw it, if you didn’t want me, that meant you wanted something else.”
“And the only thing you could think of was the money?”
“Yeah.”
“Now you know you’re wrong, why do you think I said I didn’t want you?”
Trip considered. He had a horrible feeling that anything he said would come out wrong or she’d twist his words, but he decided to venture his most honest opinion.
“I guess the reason is simple. You wanted a way out of being a saloon-girl and if you were nice to me, we might run a saloon in Wagon Creek together, but I guess you were worried that—”
“Trip Kincaid,” she screeched.
Trip’s guts rumbled, now wishing he’d stuck with his original idea of apologizing for everything he’d ever said and ever done and hoping she’d forgive him.
“I guess that’s wrong, too.”
She stamped a foot. “It sure is. I can’t believe you. You apologize for saying one bad thing and then say something even worse. Why can’t you just understand me? I didn’t want a way out of my troubles because I haven’t got any. I just wanted you.”
“You just wanted me?” Trip intoned slowly.
“Yeah. I did want you, but I don’t want you now. I wouldn’t come back to you even if you begged me.” She shook her head. “And to think of what I did for you.”
“You did nothing. You said you didn’t want to get serious.”
“Don’t tell me what I said, Trip Kincaid.”
Trip took a deep breath, searching for the right thing to say, but unable to work out what that might be.
“Then don’t get serious. We were a good team and we can just look after a saloon together.” Trip risked a smile. “If we ever feel like getting friendly again one day, we can—”
“I will never feel like getting friendly with you ever again. This saloon can fall down for all I care.”
She turned around and kicked the corner of the building, and although she hit it with some strength, Trip was surprised when the walls wobbled and a dangerous creak issued from the wood. Grace stepped out of the way, but the corner of the saloon had now veered at an angle, and inch by inexorable inch it was doing what she’d hoped it’d do and falling over.
Trip winced. He’d built the saloon on the side of the dry gully and that was now the side of the creek. The first flush of water running down it in a month would have washed into the tunnel Milton had dug, and that tunnel led beneath the saloon.
Everyone hurried out of the way as, with much creaking and cracking, the third saloon at Calloway’s Crossing collapsed in upon itself, leaving just a heap of broken wood. As the dust settled, that gently subsided into a new stretch of mud.
“Well, I guess there isn’t nothing more for us here now,” Trip said.
�
��There isn’t,” Grace said, standing before him, her eyes now cold and distant. “When you rode into town, I was just a saloon-girl in Wagon Creek, and that’s what I can be again.”
With a determined stamp of her foot, she headed to her horse. As she walked away, the firm set of her back and the blankness of Trip’s mind as to what he could say forced him to accept he couldn’t stop her leaving.
He turned to his saloon. It was beyond repair, but he tried to console himself with the thought that now the creek had changed to its original direction, his land would stop being so muddy. No matter how he looked at it, running a saloon without Grace wasn’t an appealing thought and he might have ridden out of town if Adam hadn’t have pointed downriver toward the gulch.
“I can’t stay to help you here,” he said. “I have to get Milton.”
“You do that, but you’ll have to do it on your own,” Trip said. “I’ve wasted enough time on your family dispute. I’m leaving.”
“You might not be able to do that. Milton set you and Grace up to take the blame, and just because he didn’t get the money, it won’t stop him telling everyone a very different story than what’s just happened.”
Grace had now mounted up, but she turned at the mention of her name and nodded.
“I guess there’s only place he’ll go to tell that story,” she said.
“Yeah, Calloway’s Gulch,” Adam said.
Trip nodded. He told Isaac to see if he could salvage anything from the saloon and then hurried to his horse. As Adam mounted up, Trip faced Grace and shrugged.
“I said some things I didn’t mean to,” he said, venturing a smile. “That’s only because I—”
“That’s only because you’re an idiot, Trip Kincaid, and I was an idiot to waste my time getting all serious about you. So remember this – just because I’m coming with you, it doesn’t mean I want to spend time with you.”
Trip limited himself to a nod and in a line they headed down the creek. When they reached the side of the river, they waded through the water and picked up Milton’s footprints, but they ended a hundred yards into the trees at a small campsite.
Clearly, Milton hadn’t hidden in the hole beneath the saloon all the time and he’d also left a horse here to collect. So they galloped downriver to the gulch, the tired and sore Adam bringing up the rear, and when they reached the clearing around the bridge, Trip was glad they’d hurried.
Milton had arrived first and was already blurting out an explanation of the events of the last few days to Frank Moore. From Frank’s thunderous expression, most of Milton’s version blamed Trip and Grace.
“Those people destroyed the money,” Milton shouted, pointing at them.
All the workers who had previously tried to kill Trip had returned and they were an eager audience to this tale. As one, they turned to Trip with Frank at the front.
“That includes our wages,” Frank said, advancing on Trip. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”
With Grace at his side and Adam behind, Trip dismounted and stood before the arc of disgruntled bridge workers.
“You’ve got one thousand dollars of your wages,” Trip said, standing his ground, “and Adam’s accepted he won’t see his cut of the money again.”
Adam grunted his support for Trip, his comments forcing Frank into temporary silence and when he spoke again, his voice wasn’t so belligerent.
“That’s as maybe, but it still leaves us short by a thousand.”
“Yeah,” Milton said from behind Frank. “You all worked for nothing because of Trip.”
Frank grunted his agreement and gestured to the men around him, who all took a long pace toward Trip.
“So there isn’t nothing you can say that’ll get you out of that beating that’s been coming to you,” Frank said, cracking his knuckles.
Trip waited until Frank was two paces away and then opened his jacket.
“Then it’s a good job I managed to reclaim some of the money. I just had time to stuff a couple of handfuls into my pocket.”
Trip removed a huge wad of bills from his pocket and waved it, the flash of green stopping everybody in their tracks. Frank’s eyes gleamed as Trip counted out the money he’d saved into his other hand.
It came to nearly fifteen hundred dollars and Trip didn’t need to mention it was enough to pay the wages and still leave a few hundred dollars for Adam. When Trip held the money out to Frank, the overseer smiled.
“I’m obliged,” he said. “Perhaps I got you wrong, Trip.”
“You can’t believe him,” Milton said from behind the group.
“I can,” Frank said. “My men will get paid and if your brother isn’t concerned about not getting his money, the matter is closed.”
Milton spread his hands, hoping for support, but the workers were now ignoring him and pestering Frank to be paid. Trip guessed what Milton’s next action would be and he slipped around Frank to block the route to Milton’s horse, but Milton turned on his heel and ran to the bridge instead.
Adam sat down to massage his tired limbs and he directed a resigned shake of the head at Trip that said he wouldn’t waste his limited energy chasing after Milton, but Grace rubbed her hands and took deep breaths.
“I’ve kept my temper for far too long,” she said, heading to the bridge. “You just aren’t worth shouting at, Trip Kincaid, but I reckon Milton can do some suffering.”
Grace maintained her steady pacing, her deliberate steps showing that Milton would be on the receiving end of an anger that had been growing since Trip had annoyed her. Milton reached the bridge first and then took his first tentative steps onto the structure.
Trip followed and smiled as it was clear that Milton had made a big mistake. He didn’t have Grace’s head for heights and after only a few steps along the bridge framework, he was already holding his arms wide and swaying, while she walked on to the bridge, her stride and demeanor unconcerned.
“Are you sure you want to head across the gulch?” she asked. “I thought you were scared of heights.”
“I am,” Milton said. He took another pace, but his legs shook and he had to stand sideways and wheel his arms to avoid falling. “Go away.”
Grace took several long steps to catch up with him and then pushed him along the framework.
“I’m not doing that. After everything I did for you, you nearly got me killed.”
Milton risked several running paces until his foot slipped and he went to his knees. He grabbed hold of both sides of the plank and wrapped his arms around it, hugging the wood as if it would save his life.
“I didn’t mean to,” Milton pleaded. “I only tried to get Trip.”
“I cared for Trip and you took that away.” She took another confident step to stand over Milton. “Don’t look down. You might fall.”
Milton edged his head to the side and gulped. He fell to his chest and pressed his cheek to the comforting wood, but Grace jumped up and down behind him, shaking the plank. Milton swayed from side to side and then crawled away from her one tentative, shuffled pace at a time, but he wasn’t even halfway across the gulch yet and Trip reckoned Grace would make him suffer over every tortured pace.
Trip edged onto the end of the plank and folded his arms. He knew that Grace’s anger was really directed at him and he didn’t like to ponder why she was taking it out on Milton instead, but either way, he relished the fact that Milton was getting his comeuppance.
He was wondering if Grace would make Milton fall to his death when a black object bobbed up in the water. He gulped, noting that they were downriver from Calloway’s Crossing and, as they’d come here quickly, Baxter’s body would pass by them if it hadn’t snagged on something on the way.
He narrowed his eyes as the object swirled closer, but it wasn’t a body. It was the bag containing Adam’s money and it’d reach the bridge in less than a minute. Grace was standing over the crying and pleading Milton and loudly venting her anger at him and the bridge workers were all congregating aro
und Frank several hundred yards away.
Trip judged he’d waste too much time getting anyone’s attention. So he jumped off the plank and made his way down the side of the gulch. Many branches from spindly trees and bushes were on the side of the gulch and Trip broke one off to hook the passing bag.
The bank was slippery and he had to rock back on his heels to avoid sliding down the slope. He reached the bottom ahead of the bag and shuffled along the bottom plank to gain a good position.
He kneeled down on the same spot where a few hours earlier he had dragged himself from the river and then poked the branch out into the water and waited for the bag to swirl closer. He would have only one opportunity to hook it.
Thankfully, when he lunged, the branch slid through the handle. He offered a silent prayer of thanks for his good fortune as he raised the bag high above the water and slopped it down on the plank beside him.
He sat down, taking deep breaths with his feet dangling over the edge, and then opened the bag. The money inside was sodden and he guessed that some of it would be missing, but enough of it should remain to please Adam.
Above him, Milton’s arms and legs were wrapped around a plank with Grace being just visible behind him. Both people were oblivious to Trip’s discovery as Grace shouted taunts. Trip smiled as he stood up, but then something snagged his foot and dragged him back down to his knees.
A hand had emerged from the river and was clutching his ankle. Then the soaked Baxter swung into view, hanging on beneath the plank, his time in the water having failed to dampen the bloodlust that burned in his eyes. He walked his hand up Trip’s leg to gather a firmer grip and then tugged.
Chapter Fifteen
TRIP ROLLED BACK, TEARING his leg from Baxter’s grasp and, while still kneeling, pushed himself back along the plank. Baxter emerged from the water, dripping wet and vengeful, but he’d lost his gun, perhaps discarding it to reduce weight.
Trip picked up the bag and then rolled to his feet and ran for the slope. Baxter dashed after him and the two men scurried up the slope with Baxter’s stomping footfalls pounding behind Trip and closing.
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