The punch didn’t do any real damage, but it stunned both Noss and Sprole into silence.
“Good,” Paul said as he rubbed his knuckles. “Now that I have your attention, I’d like to politely ask you two to refrain from talking to me like I’m a child. I am not a child and I do not appreciate being pushed around like some sort of dog.”
Although anger was showing in his eyes, Sprole took a breath and forced it back. “All right,” he said with a nod. “You made your point.”
Looking over to Noss, Paul said, “This hasn’t been an easy night . . . for any of us. There’s work that still needs to be done, and the way I see it, we’re the ones best suited for the task.”
“Wouldn’t be so much work if them deputies weren’t such an incompetent bunch of . . .” Seeing the way Paul glared at him, Sprole stopped himself in midsentence and closed his mouth.
“There is work to be done,” Noss said in a tired voice. “I’m just trying to do it. No offense meant, but chasing after an escaped prisoner ain’t exactly your concern, Father.”
All Paul had to do was raise an eyebrow to get one of the men chuckling.
Sprole shook his head as he laughed and propped his hands on his hips. Suddenly he looked as if the entire day’s events had caught up to him.
“What’s so funny?” Sheriff Noss asked.
“Didn’t the padre here come to you about something involving the man who sent your escaped prisoner into town in the first place?”
“You mean Jack Terrigan? What does . . .” Noss closed his eyes and clenched his jaw shut so tightly that the muscles in his face flexed beneath his cheeks. “I told you before, Father, and I’ll tell you again. You ain’t about to come along with me or anyone else who goes after that killer. I don’t care whether you knew him or not. It ain’t your place and you’d only be slowing us down.”
“I can ride well enough to keep up with anyone,” Paul replied.
“We already looked for the rest of that gang and only got ambushed for our troubles. The only person who knew anything to help us look in the right spot for Terrigan or who might even know if Terrigan is still in the territory just climbed out Doc Chandler’s window!”
“He’s still in town,” Sprole said. “I’d stake my life on it.”
The sheriff sighed. “Good. Then we’ll find him.”
“I’ve seen men lose hope,” Paul said. “I’ve seen plenty of men who thought they had nothing to live for. I’ve also seen plenty of men resign themselves to their fate, no matter how bad it may have been, simply because they figured they didn’t have anything better lined up for them.”
Stomping toward the open door leading into the office, Noss grunted, “What’s that got to do with anything?”
Paul followed closely behind with Sprole bringing up the rear. “That man,” Paul said as he pointed toward the bed that was once occupied by the prisoner, “hasn’t resigned himself to anything. He still has hope that he can escape his punishment, which means he’s got some sort of plan of what he aims to do or where he aims to go next.”
“Could be he’s just desperate to get away from here,” Noss said as he approached the bed with the shackles still attached to its frame. “Ever think of that?”
“Yes,” Paul replied patiently. “But if the three who shot up that hotel came into town under Terrigan’s orders, the rest of his gang must be camped nearby. It only makes sense.”
“That it does,” Sprole said.
“And you said yourself, Sheriff, that you could find those others if you could only narrow down the possibilities for a search.”
“I know what I said,” Noss snapped. “But our best bet in finding that outlaw camp was the man who slipped away from here when he was not only chained to his bed but supposed to be under somebody’s watchful eye.” Before anyone could say what was on their minds, the lawman added, “And I do realize my eyes were some of those that should have been doing the watching.”
Paul’s voice lost all the edge it had had a few moments ago. “Whatever mistakes were made are in the past. All that’s left is what we’re supposed to do about it now.”
“He’s got a point there,” Sprole agreed.
Having gotten to the bed, Noss examined the empty shackles and immediately found the blood trail on the floor. Glancing toward the bounty hunter, he said, “I’ve had about enough from you.”
Paul made certain to give the sheriff room to maneuver. From that minimum safe distance, he said, “It could be a blessing in disguise that this man escaped.”
“I’d like to hear how you arrived at that,” Noss grumbled.
“Because there’s a man here who can track him.”
When Noss forced himself to look over at Sprole again, the bounty hunter nodded and told him, “I already found enough to give me a good start. Soon as I get some light to go by, I should be able to figure out where he went. Since he’s wounded, catching up to him shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“I’m saying perhaps you shouldn’t catch up to him,” Paul added. “At least, not right away.”
Straightening up, the sheriff scraped the side of one finger along the lower portion of his rounded face. “If there’s a camp hidden somewhere nearby, he could lead us straight to it.”
Sprole grinned as if he were about to lick his chops. “Even if he found the strength and the means to get moving tonight, I shouldn’t have any trouble picking up his trail. That trail could lead us to Jack Terrigan himself.”
“All right, then,” Noss said. “I’ll bring Dave along to track our escaped prisoner. Did you think I wasn’t about to do that anyhow?”
“I know you intend to do whatever you can, Sheriff,” Paul said evenly. “I’m just asking that you do so in the proper frame of mind. Holding on to anger won’t help you. We all need to work together to find these dangerous men and make sure they are dealt with.”
Noss approached Paul as if he were on the lookout for another quick right cross. “There you go with saying we all the time. You truly think we are going after these outlaws?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“And why might that be?”
“Because I can help you,” Paul told him.
“Apart from blessing our meals around the cooking fire, how do you intend to help us?”
“In the event that they aren’t still in a camp somewhere or Terrigan isn’t with them after all, you’ll have to figure out where to go from there. I might know where Jack Terrigan is headed and what that gang may be doing next.”
Once again, both other men were silent for a moment. The sheriff let out a short, nervous laugh before asking, “How would you know something like that?”
“Because,” Paul replied, “I heard the prisoner’s confession.”
Grudgingly, Noss nodded his head. “Meet me at sunup. Be ready to ride and if you get in my way, you’ll need whatever grace the good Lord can spare because I won’t have any for you.”
Chapter 11
The sun was just making its presence known by sending a few streaks of purple into an otherwise inky blue sky as Paul and Sheriff Noss rode out of Pueblito Verde. Neither man had gotten much sleep the night before, which didn’t deter them from getting such an early start. Paul rode a gray mare that had spent almost as much time in a stall as it had hitched to the cart that he sometimes used to bring supplies to his church or travel to neighboring towns for the occasional funeral or wedding. The horse seemed more anxious than any of the others to be out and about at that particular moment.
Sheriff Noss sat atop his white, spotted gelding. Both he and the horse hung their heads low and moved as if they were about to fall over. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
Paul looked over to the lawman and asked, “What do you mean?”
“If I didn’t know a
ny better, I’d say you were full of beans where this whole confession thing is concerned.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because . . . I didn’t even think you heard confessions. That is, unless you built some confessionals into your church since the last time I was there.”
“It’s been a long time since you came to church,” Paul pointed out. “Lots of things have happened since then.”
The lawman fixed a stern gaze onto him before flicking his reins to coax a bit more speed from his horse.
“Since you brought it up,” Paul said, “I didn’t have any confessionals built. That’s not exactly a part of our church. I believe that practice is something done by other faiths.”
“I know. Martha used to talk about confessing when she was a girl. Her side of the family was Roman Catholic. Still is, I suppose.”
“Perhaps you could visit them sometime. Might do you some good. It might even do them some good to see you after Martha’s untimely passing.”
A familiar shadow crept across the lawman’s face. It was the same shadow that came whenever he spoke the name of his departed wife. It became even darker if he thought about his two departed children. Before that darkness claimed him, Noss looked over to Paul and said, “If you’re trying to distract me, it won’t work.”
“Distract you from what?”
“From the fact that you’re only along on this ride on account of some confession you heard even though you just told me that you don’t take confessions.”
“Not as a general rule,” Paul corrected. “That doesn’t mean I won’t listen if one is offered. You see, in some faiths, confessions are a required practice. In others, they’re simply encouraged. For all faiths, however, confession is always good to unburden a troubled soul.”
“There you go again,” Noss grunted. “More fast talk and distraction. Sometimes it seems like you use more smoke and mirrors than a magician. I must’ve been overly tired or just plain loco to let you talk me into letting you come along on this hunt. Come to think of it, since we ain’t that far along, it’s probably best if you turn around right now and go home.”
“I wasn’t lying to you about what I was told the other night, Sheriff,” Paul said gravely. “I may not have brought up the notion of confessing to that prisoner, but I sat at his bedside so I could be there if I was needed. Eventually he needed to get some things off his chest and he decided he wanted to tell them to me.”
“Probably because he figured he could trust a preacher not to go off and flap his gums to the law. Guess he was wrong about that.”
“You’re tired and bitter,” Paul said. “You’ve been that way ever since you lost Martha and the boys. Lashing out at me or anyone else won’t ease your suffering.” After a few silent moments, Paul shifted in his saddle. “Of course, I could see why you’d be suspicious. Just so you know, I intended to keep what I was told to myself. He is a dangerous man, though, and when he escaped, I knew he intended to harm others as soon as he was reunited with the rest of that gang. That’s why I mentioned it at all.”
“So just tell me what was said so I can find that gang and put them all behind bars,” Noss said.
“That wasn’t the deal and you know it.”
“Ah, that’s right,” Noss mused. “You don’t take confessions regularly, but you do go on crusades. Interesting faith you got there, Padre.”
“I asked to come along with you before and you would have none of it. I asked again when you decided to retrieve this prisoner and you still wouldn’t have it. And since you are so fond of pointing out the inconsistencies of what I do, why is it that you decided to ride out after this man when you normally don’t like venturing out of your jurisdiction?”
“The law’s the law,” Noss replied. “That man was my responsibility and I won’t just sit back to let someone else deal with him.”
“Which is exactly why I wanted to come along. I can help not only him, but Jack Terrigan as well. And if I help him, I can keep other folks from being hurt by him or his men.”
Continuing as if he hadn’t even heard Paul’s last few sentences, Noss said, “And there’s also the matter of a bunch of armed cowboys riding into my town and shooting it up without a care in the world. If I let that pass, I might as well hang a sign outside Pueblito Verde that welcomes that sort of behavior.”
“You could have asked for help.”
“I did. My deputies are watching the town and Dave’s riding ahead looking to where that fugitive has gone.”
“No,” Paul said, “I mean help from another lawman. It seemed wise to leave your deputies behind to take over your duties while you’re away. The lot of them should be able to keep things in line for as long as we’re gone. But you could have sent word to another town. There’s always that marshal in—”
“I already told you,” Noss cut in. “This is my mess and I’ll clean it up.”
Paul looked over at him and nodded. “It’s good to see you taking pride in something again.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You haven’t been the same . . . for some time now.”
The lawman chuckled and watched a small cloud of dust being kicked up by Sprole’s horse in the flat stretch of terrain alongside the trail. Since there wasn’t much else out that way apart from a whole bunch of scrub and jackrabbits, the horse stirring up that dust couldn’t exactly hide. It was getting closer now, so he watched to make sure the rider didn’t have any trouble getting back to the trail. “I haven’t been the same and you’ve never changed,” he said.
“I believe I’ve changed a lot since I arrived,” Paul said in his own defense.
“You never could just come flat out and say something. Always beating around the bush, holding out until somebody deciphers whatever clue or hint you decide to drop for them. I suppose that little habit could just come with the collar, eh?”
For a good portion of the last day or two, Sheriff Noss had done a lot of muttering to himself and shaking his head. Now it was Paul’s turn and he kept himself busy that way until Dave Sprole rode up close enough to be heard without shouting.
“Looks like I was right,” Sprole said. “After that prisoner stole a horse from them folks on the outskirts of town this morning, he headed this way.”
“Was he still bleeding?” Noss asked.
“There’s plenty more ways to track a man,” Sprole replied. “Especially if we know where to start. Between me and the preacher, we’ve been able to narrow it down even further. It ain’t a quick process, but I’d say the man we’re after only got a few hours’ jump on us. Good thing we knew he was headed south.”
With that, both of the other men looked over to Paul.
“Yes,” the preacher said without flinching. “It is good that we knew which direction he was headed.”
“We didn’t know, Father,” Noss said. “You did. And it’s all because of that confession you refuse to tell us about.”
“If I told you everything, you wouldn’t have let me come along.”
“You’re already along,” Noss pointed out. “Might as well spill the beans on the rest.”
Paul shook his head. “I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t hesitate in the slightest before sending me back to town as soon as it suited you.”
“Then go over what you would like to share.”
“Yeah,” Sprole said as he removed his hat and used the back of his hand to wipe some of the sweat that had been beading on his brow. “Now’s a good time for that, seeing as how the tracks get harder to follow less than a quarter mile off this trail.”
“The first thing he told me,” Paul said as if reciting the words from memory, “was that he needed to get into the desert. I think he was delirious when he started saying that, but I could tell he believed it.”
“Makes sense,” Noss said with a nod. “Plenty of outlaws take to the desert when they need to lie low for a while.”
“He told me he’d meet up with the rest of the gang a day’s ride south from Pueblito Verde.”
“That’s what you told us before,” Noss said.
“Then why make me say it again?”
“Because we need more if we’re gonna get the jump on these men! The drips you fed us before were enough to get us on the scent, but letting us ride much farther without any more help than that won’t do us much good. At the least, it’ll take away any advantage we might have had, and at the worst, it’ll cause us to ride into another ambush. This time, we may not ride away from it without getting a whole lot of holes blasted into our hides.”
Paul looked over to the bounty hunter, who’d been a surprisingly good ally the previous night. He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy row to hoe, but after letting the others know about the confession he’d heard, Paul had been raked over the coals for hours on end. It had been a tedious battle of wills and words, ending with an uneasy stalemate. Paul knew just enough to make his presence valuable, and with the information he’d promised to them, the other two had agreed to let him ride along.
It seemed Sheriff Noss had limitless strength when it came to refusing Paul’s request. Sprole had stuck by Paul’s side, however, coming up with a few good reasons why the preacher should be allowed to join them. His position was that, so long as Paul’s information panned out, they could gain an advantage that would allow a smaller group of men to bring in what was left of Terrigan’s gang easier than if a larger posse attempted the same task. The bounty hunter had been after the outlaws for long enough to know that Terrigan never traveled with more than half a dozen other men at any given time. Sprole had captured one member of the gang a short time before arriving in Pueblito Verde and had killed two of them at the hotel shoot-out. Since Terrigan hadn’t been given much time to catch his breath and recruit other gang members, that only left one or two still traveling with him and the fellow with the wounded hand who had escaped from Doc Chandler’s office.
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