He hadn't cleared leather when he heard Tom Nation choke out a warning.
It came too late. Something exploded on the back of Braddock's head and sent him pitching forward into oblivion.
* * *
The pain that seeped into Braddock's consciousness told him he was still alive, but that was the only thing welcome about it. Slowly, he became aware that he was on his feet. His arms were raised at his sides, and something was keeping them in that position. He didn't try to move because he didn't want Pollard and whoever had knocked him out to know just yet that he was awake. Instead he opened his eyes the thinnest slit and listened for what was going on around him.
He couldn't see anything except what appeared to be part of the Fort Davis trail in front of him. He heard something, though: voices murmured somewhere not far off. Two men, from the sound of them, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.
Then the voices became clearer and Braddock knew the men were coming toward him. Henry Pollard told someone, "Get some water in your hat and throw it on Braddock. I'm tired of waiting for him to wake up."
"Sí, señor," the other man replied.
Because of that warning, Braddock expected the creek water that splashed in his face a few moments later. He acted like it took him by surprise anyway, sputtering and jerking his head from side to side.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Braddock," Pollard said. He laughed. "For a little while, anyway."
Braddock opened his eyes all the way and looked around. He was strung up between two of the cottonwoods with pieces of rope binding his wrists to the trees. His arms were pulled out tight enough to make his shoulder sockets ache.
Tom Nation was in the same predicament, stretched between two of the other trees. The young man's head hung far forward. He was either dead or unconscious. From where he was, Braddock couldn't tell which.
Pollard's companion was a stocky, heavily beard-stubbled Mexican. To the best of Braddock's memory, he had never seen the man before. He could make a guess as to the Mexican's identity, though. The man had to be one of the few survivors from the gang of hired killers that had stormed the jail.
Pollard stood in front of Braddock with an expression of gloating satisfaction on his face. He went on, "You're probably wondering how I got loose, aren't you, Ranger?" He held up both hands with the sleeves of his shirt pushed back so that his wrists were revealed. Both of them were raw and bloody, with great hunks of skin torn off them. "It's amazing how much you can accomplish if you don't care how much it hurts. I twisted them back and forth until I'd worked some play into the ropes. An animal will chew its own leg off to get free from a trap, you know. I would have done the same if I'd had to. I tried to tell the deputy he'd never get me to Fort Davis."
"You're...crazy...Pollard," Braddock ground out.
"You say that, but from where I'm standing, I'm the sane one. It's the rest of the world that's crazy. And who's to say which one of us is right?"
The Mexican said, "It might be a good idea for you to go ahead and kill them, Señor Pollard. Dearborn may have wired the sheriff in Fort Davis to be expecting you and the deputy, and he could send out somebody to look for you if you don't show up."
"We don't have to worry about that until late, Santiago," Pollard replied. "I intend to be gone by then. Although I must admit, the idea of making these two sons of bitches die as slowly as possible definitely appeals to me. I've heard it said that the Apaches can take up to eight hours having their sport with a prisoner before he finally dies. You think I could match that?"
"I think you'd be foolish to try," the man called Santiago said. "The rest of the Rangers are gonna be after you, not to mention every other lawman in this part of the country. The smart thing for you to do is come to Mexico with me. I know places south of the border where no one will ever find you."
"Spend the rest of my life hiding out in your Godforsaken country?" Pollard snorted in derision at that idea. "I don't think so. When I get through with these two, I'm going to head for my brother's ranch. Amos will help me. He'll give me a place to hide out until the uproar dies down and I can go back to my old life. You'll see. Money and power can do everything."
"You're wrong about that," Braddock said. "After all the atrocities you've carried out, the law will never stop looking for you, Pollard. You'll be a fugitive the rest of your life, until they catch up to you and put a noose around your neck."
Pollard's lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl as he put his face close to Braddock's.
"You'll never know whether you're right or not, Ranger," he said. "You'll be dead by then." He raised the knife he held and waved it back and forth slowly in front of Braddock's eyes. "Cutting you up isn't good enough. It was great fun doing that to the Castle girl, and to the deputy, too, but you deserve something even better. I'm going to start by peeling every bit of skin from your face. You'll feel it come tearing off, inch by inch, strip by strip—"
"Henry!" a new voice roared. "By God, that's enough!"
Chapter 16
Pollard jerked around in surprise. He had been so caught up in tormenting his captive that he hadn't noticed anyone approaching.
Neither had Braddock. Santiago had, though. He bolted toward his horse and was halfway there when two more men loomed up and leveled guns at him.
"Hold it right there, hombre," one of the newcomers drawled. Santiago stopped short and stood there with his arms half-raised, keeping his hands well away from his gun and the knife sheathed on his other hip.
A tall, erect figure stalked toward Henry Pollard. Henry exclaimed, "Amos! How in the world did you find me?"
"Never mind that," Amos Pollard snapped. "Did I hear you threatening to torture this Ranger to death?"
"Well, of course I am," Henry replied as if his answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "What else would I do? He wants to take me in and hang me!"
"That's what a lawman does. He sees to it that a murderer gets what's coming to him."
"A murderer?" Henry repeated as he stared at his brother. "I'm no murderer. I'm the one who sees that people get what's coming to them. I'm the one who punishes anybody who crosses me, and anybody who helps them."
"Like all those people you and your hired guns killed in Santa Angelina?"
"Exactly!" Henry said, grinning now. "I knew you'd understand, Amos. Those people took the Castle girl's side against me. You know how they must have talked, the things they're bound to have said. They thought I was terrible because I paid her back for cutting me the way she did, the little slut—"
Amos Pollard's arm flashed up in a savage backhanded blow that cracked across his brother's face and made Henry stagger to the side. He stared at Amos in disbelief and said, "But...but—"
Amos hit him again, this time with a closed fist. Henry reeled back. Amos went after him, sledging blow after blow to his face and body. Henry fell to his knees, and Amos hit him one last time, stretching him out senseless on the ground.
Breathing heavily, Amos turned to the two men he had brought with him. He said, "Bert, you keep that Mexican covered. Ray, cut these two men loose."
"Sure, boss," the burly cowhand called Ray replied. He pouched the iron he'd been holding, took a knife from his belt, and hurried over to Braddock.
The Ranger inclined his head toward Tom Nation and said, "I'm all right. Tend to the deputy first."
Ray nodded and went to Tom's side.
"Is he alive?" Braddock asked.
"He's breathin'," Ray replied as he started sawing at the rope holding Tom's right arm to the tree trunk. "Pretty bloody, but he's alive."
It didn't take long to get Tom loose. Ray lowered him gently to the ground, then turned to Braddock. A few moments later the Ranger was free as well, muscles throbbing in pain as he was able to lower his stretched-out arms at last. He rubbed each of his shoulders in turn as he asked, "What now, Pollard?"
Amos Pollard gave him a cold, level stare and said, "What do you mean?"
&
nbsp; "You've got your brother back," Braddock said. "What are you going to do with him?"
"Shouldn't you be asking what I'm going to do with you? You're the one who's been trying to make sure Henry keeps his date with the hangman."
"It's my job," Braddock said as he shrugged. At this moment, the knowledge that he had been stripped of his badge and bringing criminals to justice wasn't his job didn't even enter his thoughts. In his mind, right now he was a Texas Ranger, even if the star-in-a-circle emblem pinned to his shirt had a bullet hole in the center of it.
Amos Pollard didn't answer the question Braddock had asked him. Instead he turned to the man who had cut the prisoners loose and said, "Ray, get my brother on his feet. I need to talk to him. Braddock, if you want to tend to Deputy Nation, that's fine. I don't bear any ill will toward either of you."
Braddock could have made some sort of sharp reply to that, but he was more concerned with Tom Nation's condition at the moment. He went to the deputy's side, knelt, and lifted him into a sitting position. Tom stirred a little and muttered something as he tried to struggle back to consciousness.
The front of his shirt was dark with the blood that had welled from the wounds on his face, but Braddock thought he would be all right if he had some medical attention. Those cuts needed to be cleaned and bandaged. It was difficult to tell in the light of the lowering moon, but Braddock thought the injuries weren't as numerous or as deep as the ones that had disfigured June Castle. Henry must have hurried his butchery. Tom would carry some scars, but not to the same extent as June.
Ray hauled Henry Pollard to his feet and stood him in front of Amos, holding him up so he wouldn't collapse again. Amos caught hold of his brother's chin and lifted his head.
"Henry, listen to me," Amos said. "Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, I...I guess," Henry slurred. "Why'd you...hit me, Amos?"
"What am I going to do with you, Henry?"
Before answering, Henry lifted a shaking hand and used the back of it to wipe away blood that had leaked from his mouth where his brother had hit him. He said, "Wha...what do you mean? You need to kill those two lawmen. They want to hang me!"
"I'm not a killer," Amos said.
Henry was getting some of his strength back. He shook loose of Ray's hand and said, "Gimme a gun, then. I'll take care of 'em."
"I thought you wanted to use a knife on them. That's what you said, wasn't it? You were boasting about how much suffering you were going to inflict on them. I heard you with my own ears."
"Oh, for God's sake!" Henry burst out. "Don't tell me you're feelin' sorry for a couple of damn lawdogs! If you don't want to kill them, then don't. Let's just get out of here. I'm ready to go home." He looked around and added, "You can tell Luttrell to stop pointing that gun at Quintero, too. He's with me."
"Yes, I know he is," Amos said. "You think you can just go home after everything you've done, Henry?"
"Why the hell not? Nobody can prove I did anything except teach June Castle a lesson. Everybody kept going on about how I was responsible for what happened in Santa Angelina. There's no proof of that, not one damned bit! Quintero's not gonna testify that I paid him and the others to raid that worthless little settlement. So let's go back to the ranch and you can pay that trollop enough to shut her up for good, and I can get on with my life, damn it!"
Tom Nation's senses must have returned enough for him to understand what Henry was saying. He yelled, "Shut up! You...you can't talk that way about June!"
He tried to stand up, but his strength deserted him. He sagged against Braddock.
Henry turned to look at the deputy and laughed. He said, "I forget for a minute how sweet you are on her, Tom! Maybe you can court her now after all, since the two of you match. Hell, you ought to be thanking me!"
"Henry." Amos Pollard's voice was flat and hard. "You think you can just come back to the ranch and go on being the way you've always been? Hurting anybody you want just because the fancy strikes you?"
Henry grunted and said, "Why not? My brother's the richest, most important man in the county."
Amos stared at him for a long moment, and then the rancher's shoulders slumped. Braddock had never seen a man look so defeated. Quietly, Amos said, "You've got a rope on your saddle, don't you, Ray?"
"Sure, boss," Ray replied. "A cowboy never goes anywhere without a rope."
"Can you make a hangman's knot?"
Ray didn't answer the question. In the stunned silence that followed it, Henry make a choked noise and then said, "Amos, what are you talking about?"
"I would have gone to any lengths to save you," Amos said. "Now I see that I can't."
Henry stared at him for several heartbeats, then abruptly threw back his head and laughed.
"Son of a bitch! For a second there you had me believin' you, big brother. That's a pretty good one. If you're tryin' to scare me into behaving myself, well, it worked. Whew!"
"I'm not trying to scare you. I just see now that you're never going to change. You really are like the mad dog that everyone compares you to. You're a threat to everybody around you."
Henry's face twisted in a hate-filled grimace. He said, "Well, aren't you the high and mighty one? Can't you hear yourself, Amos? You're spoutin' words like a damned preacher! You want me to change? Why should I? I'm better than everybody else! Other people, they're just fucking cattle, just like the stock on the ranch. If I want to slaughter 'em, I've got every right to."
Amos Pollard backed off a step and drew his gun as he told Ray, "Get your rope and make a noose. Then bring it and your horse over here."
"Amos," Ray said softly, "are you sure—"
"Just do what I ask you, Ray. We've been friends a long time. Just do it."
Ray sighed and turned toward his horse.
From where he still knelt beside Tom, supporting the injured deputy, Braddock said, "You're taking the law into your own hands, Pollard. That makes you a criminal, too."
"No, what made me a criminal was protecting my brother and turning a blind eye to his perversions all these years," Amos said with a shake of his head. "I'm just trying to put a stop to that the best way I know how."
"Then let's all go into Fort Davis, lock him up, and wait for the judge. That's the right way to do it."
"That might be the legal way," Amos Pollard said, "but it's not the right way. The right way is to end it here and now. It's my responsibility. Maybe you've always followed the law, Ranger, but sometimes you have to step outside of it."
Those words pierced Braddock, and with them came the memory of how he had stepped outside the law. He had pinned on a badge he had no right to, had led people to believe he was still a Ranger when he really wasn't.
He was an outlaw, too.
"You're crazy!" Henry yelled. "You're all crazy! Amos, you're my brother. You can't hang me!"
"I can put down a mad dog," Amos grated. "Ray, you have that noose ready?"
"Just about," Ray replied. "I ain't sure about this, though. Seems like the Ranger's right, Amos. This ain't the way to handle it."
"Do you want to go on pulling Henry's fat out of the fire? Do you want to have a hand in the death of whoever he kills next?"
"Well, I reckon when you put it like that..."
Ray finished fashioning the noose and led the horse over under the trees where the others were standing. Henry was getting jittery now, Braddock thought as he watched the young man. He looked like he wanted to make a break of some sort, but the gun held rock-steady in his brother's hand stopped him.
"That branch will do," Amos said, using his free hand to point. "Throw the rope over it."
Ray sighed and followed the order. He tossed the noose end of the rope over the cottonwood branch and tied the other end to the trunk.
"I won't do it," Henry declared. "Damn you, Amos, I won't do it."
"Then I'll just shoot you, same as I would a mad dog."
For a tense few seconds, it looked like that was what was going to happen. Then, unexpec
tedly, Henry laughed again.
"You're still just trying to scare me," he said. "You think if you make me climb up there and put that noose around my neck, I'll be so scared I'll shit my pants and promise to be good. Well, you don't scare me, big brother, and I'll prove it." He stuck a foot in the stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn, and swung up onto the horse's back. He took hold of the noose and slipped it over his head. "There! I'm ready to hang! Are you done making a fool of yourself yet, Amos?"
Tipping his head back slightly, Amos Pollard looked up at his younger brother. As Braddock watched the drama unfold, he realized he could see them more clearly now. The eastern sky was gray with light. Dawn wasn't far off.
And as Braddock looked at Amos Pollard, he saw the emotions warring on the rancher's hawk-like face. He could imagine what was going through Amos's thoughts. His mind had to be filled with memories, maybe of Henry's boyhood, of a time before he'd been a killer, when he still had a shred of innocence and hope and promise to him...
Braddock knew what it was like to be haunted by the past, and in that moment he had no idea whether Amos Pollard was going to go through with this or not.
Then a grotesque gurgling sound broke the silence and Braddock jerked his head around to see the other Triangle P cowboy collapsing with blood pouring from his throat. The hired killer called Quintero was beside him, the knife he had just used to cut Bert's throat clutched in his left hand. Braddock figured Bert had taken his attention off the prisoner to watch the dramatic tableau under the trees, just long enough to be fatal.
Quintero's right hand was full of the gun he had jerked from its holster, and flame spurted from its muzzle as he hammered shots at Amos Pollard.
Chapter 17
Amos staggered as he was hit at least once. Ray let out a furious yell and leaped toward him, but before he could reach his employer and long-time friend, one of Quintero's slugs ripped through him, too, and spun him off his feet. The gun he was holding flew from his hand.
And landed next to Braddock.
Hangman's Knot (Outlaw Ranger Book 2) Page 9