Walkers Creek - A Western

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Walkers Creek - A Western Page 13

by R. Bentley Davies


  'Why did he try to kill me?'

  Her mouth goes dry.

  'Sanchez? He wouldn't be trying to kill you. You must be mistaken. Are you sure it was him?'

  'So he has killed people before? Have you asked him to kill people?'

  She says nothing. She looks up and down the street. Where is Mannion? Why can't Sanchez be here? She isn't standing on the precipice now, the ground is crumbling beneath her feet and she's struggling for balance. She doesn't want to believe where this conversation is going.

  'Did you ask Sanchez to pay someone to blow up McLaren's house?'

  'You? It was you?'

  Logan stands, hands on his hips, staring back at her.

  'You?' She still can't believe it. 'You're just a web of lies and deceit aren't you? Just some sort of mercenary.'

  She strides past him, brushing his arm out of the way and climbs back up the steps to Mannion's store. She isn't thinking now, there is no space for thoughts, only vague impressions. She is frightened and feeling exposed on the street and the one man that she thought would shield her from the trouble she is in turns out to be the trouble she is in.

  'If I'm just some sort of mercenary, what does that make the woman who hired me? You don't think you owe me an explanation of why you tried to have me killed?'

  She doesn't want to face up to the answer to that question. Why did she want to have him killed? He was a danger to her. He was going to betray her. She knows she can't trust him, he lied to her about Humby. And there he is, with a deputy badge in his pocket. Has he already betrayed her? Why is he still with her?

  'I don't understand,' she says, pausing at the top of the steps.

  'Neither do I. You and I aren't so very different are we?'

  Still she can't think. She just knows that she can't bear to look at him any more. She steps through the door of the store and the bell on the door protests as she slams it.

  'Is everything alright?' Mannion looks concerned.

  'That was Sanchez's daughter. I thought she might know where he is. Do you know where he is?'

  Mannion shakes his head.

  'This is just a disaster. Sanchez is all I have left.'

  Logan pushes the door open.

  'I'm going to the hotel to get my things, then I'm getting out of here. That horse out front is yours. Keep it.' He turns to go.

  'Wait,' she says 'was it Sanchez that put that hole in your arm.'

  Logan looks at the blood-stained bandage as though he'd forgotten it was there.

  'No,' he says.

  'Do you know where he is?'

  There is a long pause. He looks her hard in the eyes.

  'No.'

  She watches him walk across the street to the hotel and tries to take in what has just happened. So the new man in town was the man she hired to dynamite the cabin. Why hadn't she realized that sooner? It seems so obvious now that she knows it.

  She remembers how she felt when she was around him, before she knew that he was her hired gun. He was confident and calm and he genuinely seemed to like her. He didn't know he was working for her. He didn't just like her because she was paying him. And he didn't seem like the sort to betray her secrets and get her hanged. They got on too well for that. Hadn't he said that he thought they'd make a good partnership?

  It all seems wrong. Wrong that he would have told the sheriff about her, because he didn't know that it was her. Whatever he told the sheriff can't have been that detailed, he didn't even know Sanchez's name. Had she tried to get him killed on the basis of a lie that an old deputy told just to scare her? Is she really angry with him again because he didn't die when she sent Sanchez to kill him?

  It isn't a logical thread. It's a sudden realization that strikes her from nothing. She knows that Sanchez is dead. She doesn't know why but it is there and she can't shake it. Sanchez is dead and Logan killed him. He had to kill him to survive and even now, after all that he has been through and what she has done to him, even now he wants to protect her from that.

  She runs across to the hotel. She has to find him. She doesn't care if he wants to go without her. She still has unfinished business in this town anyway. No, she doesn't care if he goes, but she doesn't want him to go without her getting a chance to apologize.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  He walks across the street turning over the events of the last few days in his mind. He is struggling to believe that she paid to have McLaren's house blown up. Maybe it makes some sense. Maybe he should have realized sooner.

  He remembers the figure silhouetted on the ridge, watching the sheriff and his men inspecting the remains of the cabin. That must have been Emily. Checking to see that her orders had been completed to her satisfaction.

  There are moments that he can see that she can be so brutal, and moments of tenderness when she would seem incapable of such behavior. He can't decide which he was drawn to most. Perhaps it is the combination of the two that makes her so attractive.

  He passes through the hotel in a daze, not really paying attention to anything, lost in a world of thoughts. He walked out on Emily and is immediately regretting it. He liked the idea of the two of them together. Now he is facing riding back into the country on his own, no better off and no worse than when he arrived. No, he may not have less money but he is definitely worse off. His arm will never be the same again. Knowing that Emily tried to cheat him, tried to have him killed, hurts worse than the physical pain from the wound. This town has not been good for him. He plans to leave as soon as he can.

  The door of his room is ajar. He stops in the corridor and looks at it.

  He has just walked through the hotel lobby and up the stairs and has no idea how many people are downstairs and who they are. There could be a man stood behind him with a gun pointing at his back and he'd be completely unaware of it. He chides himself for being so sloppy. Falling asleep on sentry duty and then walking love-sick into danger. He smiles at the thought that he is 'love-sick'. He hasn't thought of himself as in love. That thought surprises him. He wants to see Emily again before he leaves.

  He unholsters his gun and cocks it. Creeping forward toward the door, he keeps close to the wall and checks behind him.

  There is a murmuring noise in the room. Someone talking?

  No, that's not talking, that's someone singing. A man, singing quietly to himself. Not loud enough to hear the words and not tuneful enough to make out the song, but definitely singing.

  Curious, he pushes open the door with the barrel of the gun.

  Renault, the hotel owner, is rummaging through his bags. Happily singing to himself as he is going through Logan's personal belongings. What does this ridiculous little man think he is doing?

  Logan coughs loudly to attract his attention.

  'Ah, Mr. Tanner! So good to see you sir. We hadn't seen you for a few days and thought perhaps you weren't coming back.'

  'So you thought you'd go through my things?'

  'Well, sir, you see, now, I'm sure you'll understand, but there's the small matter of the room fee you see, and we'd need to recoup that somehow if you weren't coming back.'

  'You were going to sell my stuff?'

  Renault nods, looking embarrassed.

  'Well, there's no need for that now.' He puts the gun back in the holster. 'If you can help me pack away these things and get my horses then I'll settle up right now.'

  'Help you?' Renault seems keen to get out of the room and edges toward the door.

  'I have a problem with my arm.'

  'Perhaps you should see a doctor?'

  'I need your help to pack my bags. I have an injury that makes it difficult to do it myself. I don't know how to make it any clearer for you. Would it help if I said I have a problem with my arm that will make it difficult for me to get my money out? You do want paying don't you?'

  'Your money?'

  Logan is losing patience. Repacking the bags and getting the horses saddled is far more than he can manage with only one arm. He draws the gun again
.

  'Now, sir, there's no need for that, I was, well, only I'm not perhaps the best to, you know, the bags, perhaps I can get a porter for you.'

  'You didn't seem to think you needed a porter to help you steal from my bags, so you can pack them and carry them for me or so help me I'll stick a bullet in your butt to hurry you along.'

  Renault returns to the bags and fiddles with the things laid out on the bed without making any progress at packing them, stealing a glance from time to time at the gun pointing at him.

  'I really think, sir,' he summons up the courage to say, 'that you really shouldn't treat me like this. The sheriff is a regular customer here and he wouldn't be very happy at all, no sir, not one bit, if he knew you were pointing that there gun at me like this.'

  Logan holsters the gun and thrusts his hand into his pocket.

  'You won't need to bother waiting for the sheriff,' he says, showing the deputy badge to the hotelier, 'You already have a deputy in the room with you and he seems to think that your stealing from customer's luggage is the biggest crime that's happened here. Should I be telling the sheriff about that?'

  The little man shakes his head and starts stuffing things into the saddlebags with speed.

  When Renault leads the way down the back stairs to the stable the horses nuzzle Logan, pleased to see him. He is pleased not to have left them behind. It would have been tough to find a pair of horses as good as these.

  He checks all his unused mining equipment is stowed securely on the pack horse and then checks the girth after Renault has fitted his saddle.

  'What I don't understand,' Renault speaks for the first time since they were in the hotel room, 'is why you're in such a hurry to leave. If you're a deputy, and you say you are and who am I to doubt that, I don't mean to suggest that you're not, but well, being a deputy and all, shouldn't you be staying?'

  'It's no business of yours where I go.' Logan says stepping over to the pack horse so suddenly that Renault takes a frightened step backwards. 'And I might not be leaving town. I'm just not staying in a hotel that's run by a thief. I'm sure that's easy for you to understand.'

  Renault nods and helps to untie the horses.

  Logan has no intention of staying in Walkers Creek. He wants to see Emily again, maybe even to persuade her to leave with him, but even she won't be able to persuade him to stay.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  She runs in through the door of the hotel, hoping to find Logan still there in the lobby but there is nobody at all near the door. Even the obsequious little man who normally greets the customers is missing. She steps into the lounge and all the polished wood and brass makes her acutely aware of her dirtiness. She would never normally come here in her working clothes, always in a nice dress and certainly never having slept outside by a fire.

  'Miss Nixon!'

  She turns to the voice and sees Humby rising from his seat at his usual table. He has been sat alone. The table has an almost empty bottle of whiskey on it. She doesn't respond to him but stands her ground.

  'It's so good to see you. I'd heard that something terrible had happened to you.'

  'You heard wrong. The only terrible thing that has happened to me was you. Have you been sat here telling yourself you should have taken more care to keep me locked away? Maybe I'd have been okay if you'd just managed to keep me safe?'

  'You really don't understand me at all do you?'

  'Oh, I understand you. You want to buy the whole town, everything in it, and my ranch was just too tempting for you. Well, you know what, you can buy it now. I'll sell it to you. Why don't we make our way over to the bank and you can pay me for it now?'

  Humby shakes his head, swaying a little on his feet.

  'You really don't understand me,' he says again.

  'What is there to understand? You wanted the ranch so badly you kidnapped me. Are you going to tell me now that you didn't want the ranch after all? Oh, I get it, it isn't that you don't want the ranch, it's that you don't want to pay for it? Is that it?'

  Humby takes a step forward and supports himself by leaning against the table. All his aggression and boldness seems to have been dissolved by the whiskey. He still looks her in the eye as he speaks but his tone of voice is pleading.

  'Just think back will you? I didn't want to hurt you. I regret what I did, it was bold and stupid but you need to understand me. I love you Emily.'

  She laughs. What a ridiculous thing for him to be coming out with. He has no idea what love can feel like.

  'Don't laugh at me. I know I don't have the best way of showing it, but I really do love you. I don't care about the ranch. Keep the ranch, just don't take away the possibility of you and me.'

  She stops laughing. It seems cruel to laugh at this man exposing his heart. She would normally doubt him and his motives but in his drunken state he seems vulnerable and maybe even honest.

  All the same, she can't help thinking of Logan every time that Humby mentions love. She is frustrated at being held up. She has run across the street to try to catch Logan and every moment she spends now talking to Humby seems like a moment when Logan gets further away.

  'I'm not staying here,' she says, 'I'm going to sell the ranch and you can be the one to buy it if you want, but don't think you'll get any more of me than that. Who knows, maybe if you'd said those things to me a few months ago when you were sober you might have stood a chance with them, but not now, not after what you've done to me.

  'You know, I think I want you to buy the ranch. I want you to have it to remind you of what you could have had. Then maybe you might realize that you can't always get what you want by force.'

  'Where will you go?'

  'I'm not going to tell you that. But I'm leaving right now. You can put the money for the ranch into the bank for me. We can agree the price of your most recent offer.'

  'Whatever you want Emily. I'd give you everything I have if you'd stay here and marry me.'

  She pauses for a moment doubting that she has heard him correctly. He's offering her the whole of Walkers Creek. But this is Humby, a man you wouldn't trust to keep his word when he was sober. He could easily claim not to have remembered this conversation at all in the morning. What would she do then? Does she really find the idea of owning so much of the town that attractive?

  It occurs to her that even if she convinces him to buy the ranch that he might still feign forgetfulness once he sobered up.

  'I'll bet you already have the paperwork drawn up for purchasing the ranch from me.'

  'I wouldn't presume to be so forward or to take so much for granted.'

  'You really think I'm a fool don't you? You took it so much for granted you kidnapped me. I'm right though aren't I? You've got those papers ready?'

  He nods, swaying a little.

  'Fine, well maybe we go and get your signature on those papers and pay a visit to the bank.'

  'And then you'll marry me?'

  'One step at a time. You buy the ranch first. I want to see you keep your word just once.'

  Of course she won't marry him but if it helps to motivate him then she'll happily dangle that carrot in front of him for a bit longer.

  A sound behind her makes her turn hoping to see Logan coming down the stairs. It is only the barman coming back. She steps over to him and asks him quietly if he has seen Logan.

  'Yes, he was just leaving the back way with his saddlebags and everything. If you ask me, he looked to be leaving town right away. I guess if you're quick you might catch him.'

  She doesn't want to miss the chance to speak to Logan.

  'Come on,' she says to Humby, 'let's go and take a walk. You could use the fresh air.'

  He steps forward, lurches and catches himself. Then he steadies and walks out of the hotel with her beside him but not touching him.

  On the steps of the hotel she looks across at Mannion's store and her heart sinks. There is only one horse tied up there now. Logan has already gone.

  She looks up and down the street l
ooking for him, straining to see the road beyond the creek but she cannot see him. He has gone and what is she left with? She has no home any more, her house and her belongings are all burned. She has lost her best friend, killed on an errand that she sent him on. All the loyal men that worked for her have shown her they have no loyalty at all. Logan or no Logan, she cannot stay in Walkers Creek. She will leave the town, even if it means riding out on her own. Even a lonely, dangerous journey will be better than staying here and marrying Humby.

  Missing Logan makes her feel bitter and spiteful and she hurries the drunk Humby up the street, hoping that everyone sees what a fool he looks as he staggers. In his office, his assistant, Haskins, quickly produces the paper and Humby signs without complaint. Haskins looks uncomfortable with the fact that Humby is so clearly drunk, but he doesn't dare comment on it.

  Haskins accompanies them to the bank where the manager greets them cordially and then cautiously when he smells what Humby has drunk.

  He asks him several times if he is sure this is what he wants to do, but Humby insists and the transaction is complete.

  She walks out into the street. She has money now, enough to last on a trip. Can she really face heading out alone? Who would ride with her? All her friends are gone. All but Mannion and he won't ride anywhere. She knows that she must go. She doesn't admit it to herself but she hopes to overtake Logan on the road, even though she doesn't know where he is headed. If she's going to do this, she must do it alone.

  She squares her shoulders and puts a hand on the reassuring handle of the little derringer. She has a chance for a new life now, a chance to repent from the sins of her past. It is time to start anew.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Logan leads the horses up the narrow alley alongside the hotel. It seems too good to be true that he will get out of this town without any more trouble so he is still being cautious.

  His arm throbs constantly from the exertion of loading up his horses. Being unable to use the arm makes him feel vulnerable, his gun hand is constantly needing to be occupied with other things like holding the reins of his horse.

 

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