After only thirty yards of climbing, Baxter lunged and grabbed for Trip, getting a hold of his chest. The two men went down, but Trip twisted, landing on his back, and kicked out, knocking Baxter away.
Then he rolled onto the plank beneath the top of the bridge. He gained his footing, turned and kicked out, aiming for Baxter’s head and trying to tumble him back down the slope, but the light-footed Baxter swerved away from the kick and vaulted on to the plank.
He spread his hands wide apart, blocking Trip’s route to the top of the gulch and, with no choice, Trip backed away along the plank. Milton and Grace were twenty feet above him on the top of the bridge. The noise had alerted Grace and she was leaning over the side.
“Is that the money?” she said.
“Yeah, but don’t celebrate just yet,” Trip said, backing away.
Trip then made a sudden decision. Grace was as sure-footed as Baxter was and he guessed she’d be equally sure-handed. He shouted up a warning and launched the bag in the air. Baxter grunted as she caught it, so Trip thought about jumping down.
Unfortunately, even though he’d backed away only ten paces along the plank, the ground below had fallen away sharply and there was already a considerable drop of twenty or more feet. Before him, Baxter was pacing along the plank, and like Grace, he strode with assurance and no suggestion that the height concerned him.
The plank carried on until it reached the stanchion in the river. Then a second plank provided an abrupt right turn running downriver to the next stanchion. Another plank headed back to the side of the gulch.
With his route decided, Trip turned, swayed until he stood firmly and then walked along the plank as quickly as he dared. Behind him, Baxter stomped closer with assurance in his stride, but Trip reached the central stanchion with no problem and swung a foot around it to reach the next plank.
Baxter’s footfalls pattered behind him and with Trip off-balance, Baxter lunged and grabbed his collar from behind. He tugged backward. Trip wheeled his arms frantically before wrapping them around the stanchion. His outstretched foot searched for the next plank but landed on air and he hung on with Baxter gradually applying more pressure.
“The money, now,” he said.
“I gave it to Grace,” Trip said.
“She’ll give it to me, or I’ll pull you down. You’ll drown, provided the fall doesn’t kill you.”
The swirling water was over one hundred feet below, the thought of the drop down making Trip’s head spin. Neither Grace nor Milton was visible, but from a shadow over the side of the bridge, he decided that Grace was standing above them.
“I guess I don’t want that.”
“Then give the order.”
Baxter released his grip slightly to encourage Trip, but Trip used that mistake to swing around the stanchion. His foot landed on the next plank and with the leverage that gave him, he dragged himself clear of Baxter’s grip, the effort throwing him to his knees and his momentum sprawling him over the side.
He had a gut-churning moment facing the water below. Then he dragged himself up to lie on his back, and it was to find that Baxter had swung around the stanchion and was looming up over him.
Trip pushed himself back a foot, but not too far. He doubted he could gain his feet and run before Baxter grabbed him, but lying like this, Baxter could get too close and he might be able to kick his legs from under him. Baxter must have been aware of the danger and he stayed back.
“No more tricks,” he said. “The money, now, or I shoot you.”
“You lost your gun in the river.”
Baxter shrugged, the action drawing a pistol from his sleeve.
“I lost one gun.”
Trip would have winced, but Grace’s shadow came into view. It was above him and several feet away from Baxter, as was a tightly wrapped rope around the plank. Trip suppressed a gulp as he deduced Grace’s reckless plan.
He shuffled backward along the plank and then sat up. He spread his hands, shrugging, and his seeming acquiescence encouraged Baxter to advance a short pace.
“Grace, give it to him, now!” Trip shouted.
A momentary smile twitched the corners of Baxter’s mouth, but then died as a shadow swooped over him cast by Grace leaping from the bridge above, a short plank in her hands and a rope around her waist. She swung in a short arc, the plank thrust back to its utmost and, as she reached Baxter, she swung it around, aiming for Baxter’s head.
With lightning reactions, Baxter ducked, the plank and Grace whirling over his head. As Grace swung off on an arc over the river, Trip kicked out, his boot crunching into Baxter’s ankle.
Baxter’s foot slipped and he fell to one knee. Trip kicked again, connecting with the knee and this time, Baxter rocked backward. Trip threw his hands back, raised his body from the plank and kicked out with all his might.
Baxter jerked back and the wild kick missed, throwing Trip over the side of the plank. Without any control of his movement, he slipped downward until more than half his body was over the side.
He clung on with his wet hands splayed and gripping the wood, but then his hands slipped and he fell. In desperation, he lunged. His grasp closed around Baxter’s calf and he hung on with his body dangling and his legs wheeling.
Baxter braced himself, his pistol arcing around to aim down at him, but behind Baxter, Grace had reached the extent of her upward swing and was returning for a second pass. Baxter turned to confront her swooping form, but with Trip holding his leg he couldn’t turn fully and even when he ducked, Grace had anticipated the action.
She swung the plank downward, slamming it into Baxter’s midriff and, with her momentum behind the blow, pushed him over the side. Trip reckoned that was a good moment to release his grip of Baxter’s leg and he hurled a hand forward to grip the plank as Baxter tumbled by.
A few seconds later, a crash sounded as Baxter hit another plank on the way down followed by a splash. Trip floundered with just one hand holding him up and then slapped his free hand on the plank.
He hung on as Baxter’s body swirled away downriver with his face down. Feeling giddy in his precarious position, Trip fought to climb back on to the plank, but he couldn’t summon the strength.
With nothing for his feet to touch to gain purchase, the best he could do was to secure his position with his arms locked and his body relaxed and straight. Grace swung gently back and forth. She was tearing at her rope, but with it supporting her weight, she wasn’t having any effect.
“We need help,” Trip said.
“I know that, Trip Kincaid,” Grace said, and pointed up. “Milton’s the closest.”
Trip winced. “I suppose you left the money up there with him.”
“I did.” Grace sighed. “That’s the last mistake I’ll ever make with that no-good, good-for—”
“Hey, I heard that,” a voice shouted from above.
A rope dropped down, gradually unfurling to dangle beside Trip. Then Milton leaned over the edge and gulped.
“You stayed,” Trip said, unable to keep the surprise from his tone.
“I may be many things, but I’d never desert a woman when she’s dangling over the side of a bridge,” Milton said.
Grace nodded. “I guess even you must have principles – just.”
“I do have principles,” Milton said, his tone hurt as he held his head high. Then he shrugged. “And Frank and about ten other men have got guns on me.”
Chapter Sixteen
TEN MINUTES AFTER DISPOSING of Baxter, Trip and Grace were safely back on solid ground. They sat on the edge of the gulch while Frank sent men off to search downriver for Baxter, but Trip reckoned they’d only find a body. Milton hunkered down while Adam kneeled beside the bag and fished the sodden money from it.
“Take your eyes off that,” Grace said as the heap of money grew.
Milton gulped. “Does that mean you’re still going to throw me off the bridge?”
“I sure will.” Grace sighed and then waved at him in a
dismissive manner. “I wasn’t going to do that. I just wanted to teach you a lesson you’d never forget.”
“You did.”
“That’ll never happen,” Adam said. He removed the last wad of money, took a long breath and turned to Milton. “I’ll never stop hoping you’ll change your ways. Take this. It’ll get you started again.”
Adam tossed the small wad of soggy bills to Milton’s feet.
“I’m obliged.” Milton picked up the bills and shrugged. “Doing what?”
“You seemed to enjoy running a saloon. You could do that again.”
Milton raised his chin, his eyes glazing as he pondered, and then nodded.
“I did enjoy doing that, but Trip owns Calloway’s Crossing now.”
Trip shook his head. “I did own it, but all the trouble I’ve faced has got me thinking that I ought to. . . .” He turned to Grace, but her eyes were cold and he shrugged. “I ought to move on. Calloway’s Crossing was your land.”
Milton’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean you’ll give it back to me?”
“Not give.”
Milton nodded slowly and waved the bills at him. “I’ll pay you two hundred dollars for your land and the saloon.”
“Make it a thousand and you have yourself a deal.”
Milton’s mouth fell open with what Trip took to be genuine surprise.
“I haven’t got that much money.”
Trip turned on his heel. “In that case I’ll talk to Marshal Kaplan before I leave and explain what you did. Even if Baxter did the most wrong, I reckon you’ve broken enough laws to get you a good long time in—”
“I understand, but Adam’s only given me about two hundred,” Milton said. “I just haven’t got one thousand dollars, honestly.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word,” Trip said as Adam grunted his agreement. He turned to Milton and lowered his voice. “I tell you what I’ll do. How much money have you got?”
“Including this, I have around three—”
“Be honest, or all deals are off,” Trip snapped, pointing at Milton.
Milton and Trip faced each other. Milton was the first to turn away.
“I have about five hundred,” Milton said.
Trip withdrew the envelope Milton had given him three weeks ago from his pocket and held it out.
“Then that’s my price for Calloway’s Crossing.”
“I need money for stock and for—”
“You’ll just have to borrow the money.” Trip smiled. “Let’s hope the people around here will trust you enough to do that.”
Milton gulped. “I’ve got no hope.”
“That’s not my problem,” Trip said as Adam laughed at Milton’s predicament.
“All right, I guess you deserve to have your revenge on me, too,” Milton said, his shoulders sagging.
Trip held out a hand. “Making someone honest isn’t revenge.”
“How will anyone ever trust me?” Milton asked, as he counted bills from various pockets into Trip’s hand.
“For a start you could rename Calloway’s Crossing and prove the double-crossing has ended.”
Trip chuckled, remembering the sight of the saloon he was selling sinking into the mud. When Milton placed the last bill into his hand, Trip slapped the envelope into Milton’s hand.
“At least I’ve gotten my land back and I have a profitable saloon,” Milton said, as he closed his grasp around the envelope.
“Yeah. I have a good feeling about you.” Trip pocketed the money and then shook Milton’s hand. “I reckon that saloon and you were meant for each other.”
Milton tipped his hat to Trip, Adam and Grace, but nobody returned as much as a smile. Then he headed to his horse, his pace picking up, perhaps as the thought of returning to Calloway’s Crossing took root, and by the time he was heading out of the gulch, he was whooping.
“What are you planning to do now?” Trip asked, as Adam headed to his horse with the bag of money clutched to his chest.
“I’m getting as far away from Milton as I can before he discovers what you’ve done to him.” Adam mounted his steed. “Are you really moving on?”
Grace was still ignoring him, but Trip raised his voice as he pointed down the trail.
“No. I’m heading to Wagon Creek.” Trip patted the bulge in his pocket. “I reckon I have enough money now to open a saloon there.”
Adam tipped his hat. “I wish you luck.”
With that, Adam galloped out of the gulch, whooping with even more excitement than his brother had. Trip walked around to stand in front of Grace and ventured a smile.
“It’ll be hard to run a saloon in Wagon Creek on my own,” he said.
She frowned, and then stood up and headed to her horse.
“It will, but it won’t be as hard as getting my help to run it,” she said.
She mounted her horse and when she raised the reins, he hurried over to stand beside her.
“What do you want me to say?” he said.
She turned to him and for the first time in a while, she smiled.
“When you work that out, Trip Kincaid, you know where I’ll be.”
She shook the reins and trotted out of the gulch, her slow speed making Trip wonder whether she wanted him to catch up with her, but when he’d mounted his horse, he noticed that Frank Moore was loitering nearby. Frank’s hunched demeanor suggested he was looking for an opportunity to make amends for his actions, so Trip swung his horse past him.
“I’m mighty disappointed in you,” he said.
“I can’t blame you.” Frank gave a rueful smile. “I guess I ought to apologize.”
“You ought to, and you can start by making sure that when your thirsty workers are looking for entertainment they head to Kincaid’s Saloon.”
“I’ll do just that. Calloway’s Crossing will—”
“I don’t mean there. I’m opening a new saloon in Wagon Creek, and for your men, the first drink is free.” Trip narrowed his eyes. “That’s provided they apologize.”
“For a free drink, that’ll be no trouble.” Frank stood tall. “I’ll be the first to say I’m sorry.”
Trip nodded and swung his horse around to leave the gulch. He rode quickly, hoping to catch up with Grace, but when he reached the trail to Wagon Creek she had stopped several hundred yards on. As she had turned her horse to face him, he slowed down to give himself more time to think.
“The trouble is, I reckon my apology won’t be as easy to make as that one was,” he said.
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Did you love Calloway's Crossing? Then you should read Incident at Pegasus Heights by I. J. Parnham!
When fossil-hunter Jim Dragon is on his way to Bear Creek to sell his latest discovery, he goes to the aid of a woman in distress, Elmina Fay. Unfortunately, Pierre Dulaine takes advantage of the situation and steals his fossils.
Jim vows to reclaim his property and Elmina offers to help him, but only if he'll do something for her. She has heard a tale about the bones of a winged horse being found nearby and she wants Jim to find Pegasus for her.
At first, Jim is skeptical about embarking on such a mission, but before long he discovers that the truth behind the tale is even stranger than he could ever have imagined.
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Calloway's Crossing Page 11