Halliday 3

by Adam Brady

  “Kip will keep watch tonight from the barn, Buck,” she whispered. “He’ll have the horses ready, and he’ll fire two shots into the air if somebody comes prowling around.”

  Halliday swung around to look at her.

  “Maybe I should be the one in the barn, Donna. It’s not right to drive the boy out of his own home.”

  “He wants it this way, Buck.”

  She stood on her toes to kiss him lightly on the lips.

  “And I want it that way, too,” she murmured. “Nobody knows how all this will end, and like I told you, it’s been so lonely all these months. I want something more than that, especially tonight. Tonight I want you. All of you, Buck.”

  Donna drew him inside and closed the door behind them. She crossed the room, blew out the table lamp and walked alone down the hallway without another word.

  “Buck?” she called a moment later.

  Halliday walked slowly out of the kitchen. The faint glow of a lamp turned down low spilled out into the hall. When he reached her doorway, he stopped and put his hands on his hips.

  “Something wrong, Buck?” Donna said hesitantly, naked as the day she was born.

  “Far from it,” Halliday said. “It’s just that you’re so damn pretty, I wanted a chance to have a real good look at you.”

  Her body was glowing in the soft lamplight. Her dark hair covered her breasts and reached almost to her waist, but she lifted her hand and brushed the hair away.

  “It feels so good to be admired, Buck,” she said with that slow, familiar smile.

  She took a light step toward him and reached up to untie the bandanna around his neck. Then she bent his head down so that she could kiss his bandaged forehead, his eyes, the corners of his mouth. Halliday took her in his arms and lifted her from the floor.

  He was carrying her to the bed when the sound of hoof beats cut the stillness of the night. He laid her quickly on the coverlet and spun on his heels.

  Donna had already snatched up her wrapper and rushed past him. When they reached the door, they saw Kip Heller galloping his horse up the clearing.

  Donna turned to Halliday, her eyes wide and beseeching.

  “Kip’s going after them,” she cried. “He’ll be killed, Buck! He’s no match for them!”

  Halliday hesitated. He was remembering the whispered conversation between brother and sister just before Kip left the house.

  “They’ll kill him,” Donna cried. “I know they will!”

  Halliday eased her away.

  “I’ll go after him, Donna,” he said, as he started for the corral.

  When he rode past the house, he saw her standing silhouetted in the doorway. He gave her a wave and dug his heels into the sorrel’s ribs.

  When he had gone from sight, Donna Heller turned back into the house and ran her hands over her lush body. She began to hum a tune to herself and then to glide across the floor in a graceful dance.

  Her eyes glowed with satisfaction and a kind of pride.

  Three – Wild Goose Chase

  Following Kip Heller was an easy chore, but catching him was another thing altogether. The kid was making so much racket that it would have been impossible to lose him, but every time Buck Halliday came close enough to see him, the kid changed direction.

  It was plain to Halliday that Heller was leading him across country that the youngster knew like the back of his hand. The wild goose chase continued for more than an hour. Twice, Halliday got close enough to call out to him, but Heller made no attempt to stop.

  Halliday began to wonder if this was just a childish attempt to keep him away from Donna.

  It was past midnight when Halliday decided that he’d had enough of this charade. He reined-down and unsaddled the sorrel, and then he simply lay on the ground to rest with his head on the saddle.

  It was close to sunup when he heard noise in the brush nearby. He was immediately on his feet and behind cover. When Kip Heller walked casually out of the brush, Halliday was waiting with his cocked six-gun in his hand.

  Heller gave Halliday a sly grin as he squatted down in the trampled grass and began to poke idly at the ground with a dead stick.

  “Don’t take any chances, do you, mister?”

  “Not when it’s so damn hard to figure out who your friends are,” Halliday told him.

  He holstered his gun and hoisted his saddle.

  Heller kept scratching away at the ground with the stick, whistling tunelessly to himself.

  Halliday tightened the cinch, tested his weight on the saddle irons and fitted boot to stirrup. When he was in the saddle and starting to ride away, Heller returned to his own horse and ranged up alongside him.

  “About last night,” Heller said. “I lost you on purpose.”

  “I could see that,” Halliday said. “So what was it all about?”

  “After supper, when I was lookin’ out the window, I remembered that I’d heard some of Dean’s crew talkin’ about doin’ some brandin’. I figured I’d go find ’em and ... just show ’em that we’re still here.”

  Halliday adjusted his hat and brushed the dirt from the back of his shirt.

  “Did you find them?”

  Heller grinned and nodded.

  “They ain’t no more’n five miles from here. Got a big herd boxed up in a canyon.”

  “So?”

  Heller grinned again and said;

  “It’d be easy as fallin’ off a log to just ride on down there and give ’em somethin’ to remember us by.”

  “You want to force the issue, Kip?”

  “Yeah, I guess I do—and why not? If we get lucky, we might even run into Cully Finn and his brother, the two that’s after your liver for killin’ Joe.”

  Halliday gave Heller a cold look.

  “I can find enough trouble of my own without your help, Kip,” he said flatly.

  “They’ll come for you, Halliday, no mistake. Them brothers is as close as bugs in a rug. They might work for Nathan Dean, but they look after themselves first. They’re bound to take it personal that you shot their brother down.”

  Halliday’s lips thinned. He was thinking that it was near impossible to even try to like this kid. Kip Heller looked like he’d been raised on hate, and Halliday wondered what kind of man had sired a boy like Kip and a girl like Donna.

  “All right,” Halliday said finally. “How do you figure on doin’ this, Kip?”

  “I’m just gonna ride through the middle of that camp and shoot everybody that gets in my gunsights,” Heller said bluntly. “And I don’t much care if you tag along or not. That game of hide ’n’ seek last night was just to keep you away from my sister. She’s got her own man and she don’t need no replacement.”

  “Well, Kip, that’s mighty interestin’—it’s the first I’ve heard that Donna has herself another man. But he sure ain’t here to help her when she needs him most. Do you really think you can beat the whole Dean outfit, all on your lonesome?”

  “That I do,” Heller said. “And the best thing for you, Halliday, is to head straight for that low spot you c’n see over yonder between them hills.” He pointed and added, “Once you’re close enough, you’ll see the trail south. From there, it ain’t far to Millerston. That’s a nice little town with a good saloon where you c’n take a woman upstairs for a dollar.”

  “That sounds real nice, Kip,” Halliday said mildly. “But what happens to your sister if you get yourself killed?”

  “I don’t mean to get killed, Halliday. Those jokers at the brandin’ camp won’t know what hit ’em. Anyway, Donna’ll make out all right, no matter what happens to me. She’ll be taken care of real good.”

  “By her man?” Halliday prodded.

  Heller nodded.

  “Sure. And a better man than you’ll ever be, Halliday.”

  “He got a name?”

  Heller’s face twisted in a sneer.

  “’Course he does, only it ain’t none of your business. Now just leave off sniffin’ around my sister
and be on your way.”

  Halliday shrugged and looked in the direction Heller had indicated.

  “That way, huh?” Halliday said expressionlessly.

  “And you c’n take your pick of the bunch for a dollar,” Heller said, puffing out his chest. “Now git!”

  Halliday gave him a wry smile and touched his hat brim in a mock gesture of farewell. Then he rode straight down the slope and onto the flatland below.

  The wind was surprisingly strong now, and he jammed his hat firmly onto his head and settled the sorrel into an easy lope. The sorrel was full of ginger after its rest and was straining to be given its head.

  “Easy, feller,” Halliday said, reining-in so that he had all the time he needed to scan the country on all sides of him.

  He turned in the saddle and looked back, seeing no sign of Kip Heller.

  When he straightened and looked ahead again, he noticed a sudden flash of yellow, high on the ridge that flanked the trail.

  Kip Heller was wearing a yellow shirt.

  Halliday slowed the sorrel to a walk. Whatever he had seen on the ridge was gone.

  The country stretched out in front of him, rising slowly toward the hills. It was the hottest part of the day, and the man and the horse threw almost no shadow at all.

  Now Halliday could see the pass Heller had described. Both the land he was crossing and the hills ahead seemed devoid of life. With the sorrel now settled into a plodding gait, he slid his rifle from the scabbard and satisfied himself that it was loaded.

  Returning the weapon to the scabbard, he removed his canteen and took a sparing swallow.

  The pass was visible now, rising bleakly ahead of him.

  He was a few yards into the pass when the sorrel pricked its ears, hearing some sound on the air that alerted him.

  Halliday stopped and listened, but there was neither sight nor sound to indicate another presence—only the light swish of the wind blowing through the brush lining the pass.

  He thought of Donna Heller coming so quickly off her bed when they heard the sound of a running horse. She had insisted she feared for her brother’s life, but she made no attempt to go after him. Although she was accustomed to fighting by her brother’s side, she seemed strangely willing to trust the matter to a virtual stranger this time.

  Halliday let the horse have its head, and the sorrel picked its way along the floor of the pass. There were no hoof prints and no wheel tracks on the ground. The sheer walls of the pass were high enough to block out the sun.

  A snake slithered away to safety when it felt the horse coming.

  Halliday saw nothing else move until they rode out into the sunlight.

  He reined-in long enough to study the country beyond the pass, and was looking down on a pretty little valley. There were plenty of trees on the hills and some offering shade down on the flats, but once again, the country was empty and silent.

  After a few more minutes, Halliday pushed his doubts to the back of his mind. If Kip Heller was right, he would be in Millerston by nightfall.

  The wind blew stronger now, and it felt almost chilly to a man in a sweated shirt.

  The ground rose sharply at the end of the valley and Halliday could feel the muscles of the horse working under him as it climbed and then lunged for the rim.

  With the valley behind them now, they were looking down on a clearing that funneled into a narrow canyon.

  Dust swirled thick in the air, and men shouted hoarsely through their bandannas that protected their noses from the dust. Cattle milled and horses pranced around them.

  Halliday sucked in his breath when he saw Kip Heller, yellow shirt bright in the sunlight, riding down the opposite slope. His gunfire was barely audible above the pandemonium down below, but one of the cowhands pitched suddenly from the saddle, entangled in the rope which he had just snagged over the horns of a bucking steer.

  Heller dodged the steer and the taut rope and galloped his horse right through the middle of the confused scene of milling cattle and yelling men.

  He picked off another man before the cowpokes could even locate their target, and then he spurred his horse straight at the supply wagon, shaking out his rope and spinning it into a wide loop as he rode. The lasso settled over the mule in the shafts and went taut so suddenly that both the mule and the wagon overturned with a crash that Halliday could hear above the uproar.

  Bullets burned the air all around the boy now, and Halliday let out a muffled curse as he drew his six-gun.

  The cowpokes were all closing in on Heller, and the kid was whipping his mount into a wild run, heading straight for Halliday.

  When Heller went tearing past with a crazy grin on his face, Halliday could only follow him at a dead run. He spurred the sorrel down the valley, eating Kip Heller’s dust every step of the way.

  At the end of the valley, Heller was still fifty yards in front of Halliday and drumming his heels against the straining horse’s ribs. Bullets were still flying every whichaway, but the ranch hands’ work-wearied cow ponies were beginning to tire.

  Now Halliday was back in the pass, following the right-hand side which he knew was the safest going.

  When he rode out into bright sunlight again, he could see Kip Heller heading for high ground. Halliday followed grimly after him and was soon sitting saddle in the trees, looking down on the cowhands below.

  “Sorry about that, Halliday,” Heller said behind him, chest heaving.

  Halliday whirled in the saddle and saw the youth standing beside his horse, rubbing the sweat from its shoulder with his left hand while his right hand held a six-gun. He was grinning broadly.

  “You little halfwit!” Halliday blared. “If them cowpokes don’t get a chance to pin your ears back, I reckon I oughta do it for them.”

  Heller lifted his gun, and his grin faded.

  “You’ll do no such thing,” he gritted, “not now and not ever.”

  Halliday glanced back at the cowhands down below and saw that they were debating whether to continue the hunt or return to the herd.

  When they finally turned back toward the herd, Halliday walked his horse toward Heller at a slow, steady pace.

  The kid lifted his left hand free of the horse and dropped it to his side. His mouth was set in a grim line, and his eyes burned with hate.

  “You’re nothin’ but a fool,” Halliday pronounced, “and you’re pushin’ this fight with Dean too far and too hard. In case you’re proud of what you did back there, let me tell you how it really looked. That was no better than backshootin’, mister. All you did was sneak up on some workin’ cowpokes who had their hands too full to notice. And you killed two men who didn’t do a thing to deserve it.”

  Heller gave him a crooked grin.

  “There was ten of ’em, Halliday, and I rode right in among ’em, like I said I would.”

  Halliday removed his bandanna and gently wiped his bandaged head, then mopped the sweat band inside his Stetson. Then he tied the bandanna around his neck again and started to raise the hat.

  He purposely did not look at Kip Heller, but when the kid’s grip relaxed a little on the six-gun, Halliday’s boot shot out and connected with the kid’s elbow. Then Halliday was out of the saddle, and his knotted fist smashed hard into the boyish face. He heard bone crunch under his fist and felt no regret.

  Heller’s gun went off and sliced through the leaves of the tree beside the trail.

  Halliday caught the kid by the front of his shirt and slapped his face three times with enough force to bring water to Heller’s eyes.

  The six-gun dropped from Heller’s grasp, and the kid made no attempt to retrieve it.

  Keeping his eyes on Heller all the time now, Halliday bent down for the gun and shoved it behind his belt. Then he straightened and hit the kid again, laying him out cold this time.

  He was on his way back to the sorrel when he spotted the three riders in the mouth of the pass.

  Halliday remained perfectly still. Finally, the riders rode ba
ck into the pass.

  Halliday threw the kid over his shoulder and dumped the dead weight over his horse.

  Riding the sorrel and leading Kip Heller’s horse, it took Halliday until dark to return to the spot where he had spent the previous night.

  Heller assumed that they were going to stop there and reached for the reins of his horse, but Halliday kept his grip on them and rode on without turning to look.

  Not a word was spoken all the way back to the Heller ranch, and Halliday didn’t once turn to look at the kid riding behind him.

  Four – Bound For Boothill

  The door of the house opened cautiously, and Donna Heller looked out before she showed herself. Then she saw her brother and rushed out into the yard, demanding;

  “What happened? Kip, what’ve they done to you?”

  Heller’s eyes cut to Halliday as he mumbled, “It was him that did it, Donna. He got the jump on me and beat me up ...”

  “I should have killed him,” Halliday told the girl flatly.

  Before Donna could speak again, the front door creaked open, revealing a gaunt man with deep-set eyes and a look of being tired to the core.

  “Finally got what was comin’ to ya, huh, brat?” the man drawled.

  Halliday saw the kid stiffen. His split lips peeled back in a snarl of rage as he said;

  “What the hell are you doin’ here, Bosker? I told you once that—”

  “I see you still talk too damn much,” Bosker said, pushing himself away from the door and taking two steps into the sunlight.

  His look swept over Buck Halliday and his mouth twisted in disdain.

  Donna glared furiously at Bosker as she reached up to help Kip down from the saddle. The kid pushed her roughly away and dismounted shakily.

  Donna was glaring up at Halliday, but Halliday kept his eyes on Heller.

  “You stay where I can see you, kid,” Halliday said. “I’ve already seen how you like to come up on a man from behind.”

  Heller heeled around and started to curse, but then he saw that Halliday had his six-gun leveled right in line with the top button of his shirt.

  Bosker chuckled and started to walk away, but Halliday shook his head and said flatly;