Ride the Savage Land

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Ride the Savage Land Page 12

by William W. Johnstone


  A new voice said, “I don’t think so.”

  Ace glanced toward the sound and saw a medium-sized man with a close-cropped salt-and-pepper beard. He wore a black hat and suit and carried a Winchester repeater. A star was pinned to his vest.

  The lawman gave Ace and Chance a look and went on. “You boys pouch those irons. If there’s any more shooting to be done here, I’ll do it.”

  Ace and Chance exchanged a glance. Chance shrugged. Ace nodded and slid his Colt into leather. Chance followed suit with the Smith & Wesson. At least the sheriff or marshal or whatever he was hadn’t demanded that they give up their guns. The Jensen brothers would have been less likely to do that willingly.

  “All right. Ma’am, I’d appreciate it if you’d step back and put your gun away.”

  “I don’t know if I ought to do that,” Lorena said. “This old man is crazy. He could have killed some of his own kin, firing off a shotgun inside the building like that.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I know,” the lawman replied. “This isn’t the first run-in I’ve had with these Fairweathers.” His voice hardened. “It’s going to be the last, though. I’m locking them up overnight, and in the morning they’re getting out of my town!”

  “You can’t do that!” one of the Fairweathers objected. “We ain’t done nothin’ wrong! We was just defendin’ ourselves from these fellas and their whores!”

  The old-timer said, “Angus, boy, don’t go callin’ a woman a whore when she’s holdin’ a gun to your poor ol’ daddy’s head. I know you ain’t very bright, but use what little sense the Good Lord gave you!”

  Lorena pulled the little pistol back, then banged it sharply against Fairweather’s head. “That’s for what your boy just called us.”

  Fairweather gingerly touched his scalp and glared at the brother called Angus. “See? What’d I tell you?”

  Lorena stepped back and slipped the gun into a pocket on her dress that Ace wouldn’t have been able to tell was there if he didn’t see her do it. She joined the other four women over by the wall.

  “Now,” the star packer said, “somebody needs to tell me what in blazes went on here.”

  From behind the counter, the clerk said, “These . . . these Fairweathers came in and demanded more credit, Marshal. They haven’t paid what they already owe Mr. Jeffreys. And they admitted that they’re going to leave town. They’re planning to run out on their debt, and still they want to add to it!”

  “We just want credit,” said the white-bearded old-timer. “Get the goods now, pay for ’em later. The store gives credit to other folks. ’Tain’t fair they won’t give us none!”

  “Even when you buy something on credit, you have to pay for it sooner or later,” the marshal said.

  “We’ll pay what we owe,” Fairweather insisted. “One o’ these days.”

  The clerk’s disgusted snort testified to how unlikely he found that idea.

  “Squabbling over what you owe aside,” the marshal said, “you can’t go around shooting off guns inside stores, especially shotguns. And from the looks of it, there was a brawl, as well.”

  One of the blond Fairweathers pointed at Ace and Chance and said, “Arrest ’em, Marshal. They done started it!”

  “That’s a lie,” Lorena said coldly. “Ace and Chance weren’t doing anything except defending us from these louts.”

  “Who are you, ma’am?”

  “Miss Lorena Hutton,” she answered. “These other ladies are Miss Sheridan, Miss Gregory, Miss Brock, and Miss Hampel. We’re on our way to San Angelo to meet our future husbands. Ace and Chance Jensen are working as our guides and protectors.”

  “Mail-order brides, eh?” the marshal said. “I’ve heard about that, but I reckon you ladies are the first I’ve met. Are any of you injured?”

  “Only our dignity,” Lorena said.

  A faint smile tugged at the lawman’s mouth. “I suppose offending a lady’s dignity could fall under the charge of disturbing the peace, too.” He grew more stern as he faced the Fairweathers. “You’re going to jail. I can hold you tonight, and what happens in the morning is up to you. You can leave town or I can convince the judge to find you all guilty and sentence you to thirty days, plus a hefty fine.”

  The old man sputtered. “That . . . that ain’t right!”

  “And,” the marshal went on, “you’re going to pay what you owe the store right now or we’ll add theft to the charges and get you another thirty days. Maybe sixty.” He looked at the clerk. “How much is their bill?”

  “Seventeen dollars and fifty cents, Marshal.”

  The lawman gestured with the Winchester’s barrel. “Let’s have it.”

  Glaring murderously, Fairweather dug around inside his homespun shirt and finally came up with a small buckskin poke closed with a strip of rawhide. He unlaced it, delved inside, and brought out several coins. He slapped them down on the counter so hard the clerk flinched a little.

  “I’ll get you your change,” the clerk said.

  “Damn well better,” Fairweather snapped.

  “This is a mighty sorry state of affairs,” one of his sons lamented. “We have to pay to go to jail.”

  The clerk slid some coins across the counter to Fairweather, who scooped them up and growled. Then the lawman gestured with the rifle to start his prisoners toward the front of the store, with some of the brothers helping their groggy siblings who were just now regaining consciousness.

  As they went, one of the bearded men said, “I still say you ought to arrest them two varmints. They was fightin’ just like we was.”

  “I intend to talk to them.” The marshal glanced back at Ace, Chance, and the ladies. “You mind waiting here until I get these fellas locked up?”

  “Just put them behind bars where they belong, Marshal,” Lorena said. “I suppose we can wait for a while.”

  Ace and Chance nodded in agreement.

  Once the marshal and the Fairweathers were gone, customers began filtering back into the store. The clerk came out from behind the counter to try to clean up the mess that had been made when the shelves fell over.

  “We can give you a hand with that,” Ace offered.

  He and Chance set the shelves upright. The clerk and Agnes picked up the scattered pots and pans.

  “How in the world did you avoid getting shot?” Agnes asked Chance. “That madman was almost right on top of you with that shotgun.”

  “I reckon I owe my life to Ace,” Chance replied. “He knocked me down just as the scattergun went off. It was probably good that Fairweather was that close to us. The charge didn’t spread out much.”

  “Look what it did to that big sack of flour,” Ace said as he nodded toward a burlap sack with a big, shredded hole in it. A considerable amount of flour had spilled out of it. “That could have been one of us.”

  “And that flour could’ve been our blood and guts,” Chance added with a grin.

  “I kept back some to pay for that when I gave Linus Fairweather his change,” the clerk put in. “Seemed only fair.”

  “That’s his name?” Ace asked.

  “Yeah. Highfalutin name for a dirty hillbilly, isn’t it?”

  “Where a fella’s from isn’t as important as how he acts.”

  “Yeah, that’s true, but that bunch will give a bad name to mountain folks everywhere. Marshal Newsom’s had nothing but trouble with them ever since they hit town a week or so ago. I don’t blame him for getting fed up and running them out.”

  Lorena said to Agnes, “What were you thinking, hitting that man with that bolt of cloth? You could’ve gotten hurt.”

  “So could any of you,” Agnes said. “I was just trying to show them that they couldn’t run roughshod over us.”

  “You made that point quite well,” Isabel said. She regarded Lorena coolly. “I didn’t know you carry a gun.”

  “You never asked me,” Lorena replied. “And if you had, I probably would have told you it’s none of your business.”

  “I was t
hinking about using this if that man hadn’t let go of me,” Isabel said as she produced a short, slim dagger.

  Ace couldn’t see where she got it from, nor where it disappeared to when she put it away.

  Agnes asked Jamie and Molly, “Are you two armed as well?”

  “Goodness, I wouldn’t know how to use a gun or a knife,” Jamie replied.

  “That’s right, you have other weapons, don’t you, honey?” Lorena said.

  “Guns scare me,” Molly said. “I don’t like being around them unless they’re necessary.”

  Ace said, “Out here on the frontier, that can be pretty much everywhere, Miss Molly. Except maybe in church.”

  “And I wouldn’t count on that,” Chance added.

  A few minutes later, the marshal came back into the store. “Matt Newsom,” he introduced himself. He had the Winchester tucked under his arm and didn’t offer to shake hands.

  “Are you going to do like the Fairweathers wanted and arrest us, too?” Chance asked.

  “No, I just wanted to warn you that you’ve made some bad enemies here today. Those Fairweathers are trouble, pure and simple.”

  “Are there any more of them?” Ace asked.

  “As a matter of fact, yes. The two oldest boys, Angus and Barnaby, are married, and their wives have kids. It takes five wagons to haul all of them and their gear. The others—Claude, Dennis, Elmer, Fergus, and Grover are their names—they’re in the market for brides.”

  “Not us,” Lorena snapped.

  “They’re like little kids,” Newsom said. “They see something shiny, they want it. And you ladies, begging your pardon, are definitely shiny.”

  Jamie smiled. “I like that.”

  Ace said, “So what you’re getting at, Marshal, is that we ought to be moving on, too, so we can get ahead of the Fairweathers and maybe they won’t be able to follow us.”

  Chance said, “This is just like back in Fort Worth. I still don’t like it. It’s too much like running away.”

  “What happened in Fort Worth?” Newsom asked.

  Ace waved the question away. “Nothing worth worrying about. Just a run-in with some fellas.”

  “Lew Shelby and Henry Baylor,” Chance said. “Heard of them?”

  Newsom frowned. “I don’t know Baylor’s name, but I’ve heard of Shelby. He’s a gunslinger. A dangerous one. He’s not on your trail, is he?”

  “Not that we know of,” Ace said.

  “We’ve been keeping a sharp eye out behind us,” Chance said.

  “Good. You’d better keep on doing that. I’m sure the Fairweathers will agree to leave town in the morning instead of going to jail. That sort can’t stand to be locked up. You’re heading west, they’re heading west . . .” Newsom’s voice became grim. “So they’re going to be somewhere behind you, and, trust me, you don’t want that wild bunch to catch up.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Normally, in a settlement that late in the day, Ace would have suggested that they just go ahead and spend the night there, but under the circumstances he thought it best they follow the marshal’s advice and put Weatherford behind them.

  Chance agreed with him. They could cover probably half the distance to the Brazos River in the daylight they had left, then ford the river in the middle of the day tomorrow.

  The terrain became more hilly west of town, but Agnes continued to do a good job handling the team. They pushed on as the sun lowered in the sky ahead of them and didn’t stop until it had dipped below the horizon, leaving the thin white clouds awash in orange and gold like streaks of flame in the heavens.

  They made camp in a meadow beside a creek. Plenty of water and grass for the horses. Ace could tell that a pleasant night was in the offing. He and Chance would have no trouble sleeping outside.

  As far as he could tell, it hadn’t rained as much there the day before. Finding wood dry enough for a campfire was a lot easier. Agnes heated beans, fried some salt pork, and baked biscuits in a Dutch oven. Ace brewed the coffee. It was a good meal.

  After everyone had eaten and the dishes were cleaned up, Isabel and Jamie retreated into the wagon. Molly and Agnes sat on a log with the light from the campfire playing over their faces as they talked quietly. Chance took a comb and began currying the horses.

  “I was wondering if I could have another look at that map of yours,” Ace said to Lorena. “I want to make sure we’re following the best route.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I’ll get it and fetch a lantern, too, so we can see better.”

  She got the lantern and the map from inside the wagon and placed them on the lowered tailgate. Ace fished a lucifer from his shirt pocket and snapped it to life with his thumbnail, then held the flame to the lantern’s wick. It caught and cast a yellow glow over the map as Lorena unfolded it.

  “Here’s Weatherford,” Ace said as he rested the tip of his index finger on the map and then moved it along to trace their route, “and here’s the Brazos River. We’ll be beyond it tomorrow, unless we run into problems. I was thinking we’d keep on heading west until we got to Abilene, then cut south for San Angelo, but now that I look closer, it appears there’s another trail running southwest that would get us there maybe a day sooner.”

  Lorena smiled. “Are you in that much of a hurry to rid yourself of our company, Ace?”

  “Oh, no, ma’am . . . I mean Miss Lorena. That’s not it at all.”

  “Just Lorena. Please.”

  Ace nodded. She had said it might take until they reached San Angelo for him to drop the miss, but evidently she had changed her mind.

  “All right. Lorena. That’s a mighty pretty name. It suits you.”

  “Thank you.” She put her hand on his upper right arm as she stood close beside him. “Ace suits you. The top card in the deck.”

  “I don’t know about that. Chance and me, we’re just drifters. I sort of hate to say it, but we really don’t amount to much.”

  “Now that’s just not true at all. You’ve already helped us a great deal, and I’d be willing to bet you’ve helped plenty of other folks as well. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Ride around giving people a hand who need one? Like noble knights in some old book.”

  “I don’t know,” Ace said. “Comparing us to knights seems pretty far-fetched to me.”

  “You’ve probably won the hearts of a lot of fair maidens, too.”

  She’d stepped closer to him. She had away of doing that without him even noticing what she was up to until it was too late and she was pressed against him.

  “I’m afraid our armor’s pretty tarnished,” he said.

  “Well . . . I’m not exactly a maiden, either.”

  Her hand came up, cupped the back of his neck, and held his head in place while she lifted herself on her toes and kissed him.

  Ace’s instincts took over. He lowered his head a little so their lips could come together with urgency and passion. His arms reached around her waist and hugged her tightly to him. She tasted and felt mighty good.

  That reaction lasted only a moment, though, before he remembered that there were people all around them, including his own brother. True, the canvas flap at the back of the wagon was closed, and Chance, Agnes, and Molly were around on the other side of the vehicle. None of the others had a really good view of them. That could change at any second, though.

  Ace moved his hands to Lorena’s shoulders and held her in place as he broke the kiss and moved back. “We shouldn’t be doing this. You’re engaged to be married to somebody else.”

  “I told you, until I say my vows, I’m not worried about that.”

  “Well, maybe you should be. You gave the fella your word, after all.”

  Anger flashed in Lorena’s eyes. “I’ve never even met the man. He’s just a name on a piece of paper to me. How can I feel any sort of loyalty to him until the deal is actually done?”

  “That’s what marriage is to you? A deal?”

  “Don’t you go judging me, Ace Jensen. All I’
m saying is there’s no reason we can’t make this trip enjoyable for both of us. It doesn’t have to mean anything other than that.”

  “Maybe not to you,” Ace said.

  “Why, you pompous, stiff-necked—” Lorena stopped short, glared at him, and then started folding up the map. “I guess you’ve decided where you want to go—so I don’t have to tell you.”

  “Yeah, I got a good enough look at the map,” Ace said, knowing full well that wasn’t all she meant.

  “Then I’ll take it and turn in.” She leaned over and blew out the lantern, causing darkness to fall around him. She started to turn away with it and the map, but then she paused and couldn’t resist adding, “If you change your mind, it shouldn’t be any trouble for you to find me. I won’t be very far away, now will I?”

  That was true, Ace thought as Lorena went back around to the front of the wagon, and it certainly didn’t make things any easier being around her all the time and knowing the way she felt about him.

  “What’s her problem?” Chance asked as he stepped out of the shadows nearby. Ace wondered how much his brother had seen and heard.

  “Nothing,” he said. “Lorena and I just see things a little differently, that’s all.”

  “So it’s Lorena now, instead of Miss Lorena. That’s interesting.”

  “No, it’s not,” Ace snapped.

  But it could get interesting before they got to San Angelo, he thought. He gazed off into the darkness toward the east, wondering how much trouble lurked behind them.

  And ahead.

  * * *

  In his hotel room in Fort Worth, Ripley Kirkwood was pacing. The knock at the hotel room door made him stop and swing toward it. “Yes?”

  The door opened and Leon came in wearing his black bowler hat. He took it off and held it in one big hand as he said, “I’ve located her, sir.” He held up his other hand to forestall the eager expression that appeared suddenly on Kirkwood’s face. “I should say, I’ve found out where she was. She left Fort Worth yesterday morning.”

  “Do you know where she went?”

  “Not exactly. But I have a lead on it.”

  Kirkwood struggled to control his impatience. He had been taking his ease in the hotel room all day, and although it was comfortably furnished, it was nothing compared to his father’s mansion in New Orleans.

 

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