“Go on,” Gabe told him.
That was enough to get Mason to rush over to Nora and the rest of the children, leaving his father’s pistol in the dirt behind him.
Gabe had yet to relinquish the shotgun. In fact, he held on to it as though it were the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of the earth. “I know what you’re feeling,” Paul told him. “I’ve lost plenty. I’ve looked into the eyes of more folks who’ve lost everything dear to them than I care to recall. I’ve been there when men have lost their wives, parents lost their children, families were blown apart by the cruel wind of fate, and every other horror you can imagine. I’m not about to tell you it’ll ever get easy to bear.”
“What am I supposed to do, then?” Gabe asked quietly. “If I can’t live with myself, I can’t stand up for my family. If I can’t do that, I don’t have much reason for being here.”
“You’ve got your whole life in front of you. So do they.”
Hearing those words made Gabe’s next breaths heavy as they were dragged into his lungs and laboriously pushed out again.
“What brought you to this?” Paul asked. “Why would you point a gun at your family? You’ve told me this much, so you might as well tell me the rest.”
“Confession is good for my soul?” Gabe asked.
“It can be, but I think you just need to hear the words for yourself.”
Reluctantly, Gabe said, “I . . . she . . . Nora . . . Nora wanted to move on after we put little Mae into the ground. She wanted to move on and just leave her behind.”
“What were you all supposed to do?”
“I don’t know. It just . . . it didn’t seem right. We kept going and I wanted to turn back. She said we had to keep going. That we had to forget about Mae like she never even happened.”
Paul reached past the shotgun to place a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Is that really what she told you?”
Gabe’s eyes clenched shut.
His finger tightened around the trigger, causing the iron mechanism to creak like a bough in the wind.
Suddenly he let out a breath and relaxed his finger while opening his eyes into tired slits. “No,” he breathed. “That ain’t what she said.”
“What did she want?” Paul asked.
“She wanted to move along. She wanted to put Mae behind us.”
Nora had stepped closer now, straining against Noss’s attempts to hold her back. “I wanted to put her death behind us,” she insisted. “I wanted to put that terrible day and all the tears and all the sadness behind us. Just leave it buried there along with—”
“Along with my little baby girl!” Gabe roared as he swung the shotgun around to point at her.
Paul grabbed hold of the barrel and forced the shotgun upward but toward himself so it couldn’t point at anyone else. “You’re drowning right now,” he said. “Your head’s not right. When you’re drowning, things don’t sound right. Things don’t look right. Nothing’s right until you come up and take a clear breath again. This ain’t the way back up, Gabe. You know that!”
“I—I don’t . . . ,” Gabe stammered. Then he strengthened his grip on the shotgun and wailed, “I don’t wanna be in this world no more!”
Gabe was a strong man and thick muscles flexed in his arms as he fought to reclaim his shotgun. The weapon went off, roaring like a clap of thunder that blasted through the air and startled the rest of his family into stunned silence. Smoke still rolled from the barrel and churned through air that stank of burned gunpowder, but the shotgun was still aimed at the sky thanks to Paul’s unwavering grip.
“No,” Paul said tersely. “I won’t let you make that decision. No man gets to decide when he or anyone else leaves this world. You’ll stay until your time runs out. Just like the rest of us.”
Eyes wide and mouth agape, Gabe looked into the face of the man directly in front of him. When Paul pulled on the shotgun’s barrel, he relinquished the weapon without another thought. Noss approached to take the shotgun, but wasn’t quick to do so before Paul eased his fingers off it.
“Are you all right?” Noss asked.
The skin of Paul’s hand was blistered and red from the heat of the barrel. Before either man could see much more than that, Paul hid his hand beneath his coat as if he were reaching for something in an inner pocket. “I’m fine,” he said. “We need to finish this.”
“I agree,” the lawman said. “This man ain’t fit to lead a donkey, not to mention a family, anywhere.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Looking over to Gabe, Paul asked, “Can you show me where your little girl is buried?”
* * *
It had been the better part of a day since the Chesterfield family put Mae’s grave behind them, but the spot marked by a little wooden cross was less than a mile from where Gabe had made his stand. When they all rode back there, Noss insisted that Gabe ride with him away from the rest of the family. Sprole got no explanation apart from instructions that he was to remain behind until the other two returned.
When they arrived at the grave, the family was slow to approach it. Nora was first and she stepped up to the mound of freshly turned dirt to drop to her knees while sinking her hands flat into the earth. The children closed in around her, rubbing her back or staring down silently at the little portion of ground that would hold their baby sister for all time.
Paul reached beneath his shirt to remove a simple silver cross from a chain. Holding the cross in one hand, he walked behind the little grave marker, placed a hand on it, and began to pray out loud.
Some of the prayers, Noss recognized. Others, he didn’t. Some were just simple thoughts spoken in Paul’s own words reflecting upon the joy of family and the simple peace to be found in shared love. Noss didn’t latch on to the words themselves, so much as the meaning behind them.
Somewhere along the line, Gabe approached his family.
His arms hung limply at his sides and when Nora realized her husband was standing directly behind her, she reached out and took his hand. The children looked up at their father and responded joyfully when he encircled one arm around Mason’s shoulders. The entire Chesterfield family embraced and cried as one while Paul spoke gentle words to soothe their souls.
When the service was completed, Noss bowed his head and wept for a little girl he’d never met.
Afterward, Paul approached the lawman and led him away from the grave. “I don’t think they’ll stay long,” he said to Noss. “But I think we should be here until they decide to get moving again.”
“Yeah. I suppose you’re right. What should I do about him?”
Paul looked over to Gabe, who hunkered down to have a few quiet words with his youngest son. “He was a tortured man who had a terrible day. He reacted badly. Do you think there’s more to it than that?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps I should ask her.”
Paul followed the sheriff’s line of sight to find Nora walking over to them. She smiled through a mask of tears and extended a hand to Paul. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said. Her eyes widened when she saw the hand she was reaching for was reddened by ugly burns that had been put there by the hot shotgun barrel. Paul tucked it away so as not to disturb her any further.
“Your husband,” Noss said. “Did he hurt anyone?”
She was quick to shake her head. “He was terribly upset when I wanted to leave. Truth be told, I know he was taking it hard and thought it best if we move on. I should have let him stay but,” she added while smiling at Paul, “he needed this more than anything else.”
“Has he ever hurt you or anyone for that matter?” Noss pressed.
“No, sir,” she told him.
“What should I do, then? Will you be safe with him?”
“Yes. When Gabriel picked up that shotgun and demanded for me to turn back,
I refused. The man who looked at me then . . . I’ve never seen him before. As frightened as I was and as loud as he shouted, he didn’t harm any of us.”
“We heard shots,” Noss reminded her.
“He fired a pistol into the air a few times while he was screaming, but he tossed it away.”
“He had that shotgun pointed at you.”
“He was angry, but he wasn’t going to shoot,” she said. “He never even had his finger on that trigger. Not until you two showed up.”
“For all we know,” Paul said, “he could have thought we were robbers and he was trying to protect his family.”
But Noss still wasn’t happy. “Or he could have cracked in the head. Just because this was the first time he went off like this don’t mean it’ll be the last.”
Paul pointed to the children who were gathered around Gabe. “Look at them. Do they look scared for their lives?”
“Let’s ask them that the next time their father gets a shotgun in his hands.”
“The only person he wanted to hurt was himself,” Paul said. “And I believe that’s passed.”
“Maybe,” Noss grunted. “Maybe not. It’s your family, ma’am. You should be the one to tell me what to do. Whatever you choose, I’ll abide by it.”
“Gabriel is one of the gentlest souls I know,” she said. “I think that’s why he was hurt so badly by Mae’s passing. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to bear. I like to think I’m a strong person, but even I felt ready to crack today. Have you ever lost a child?”
“Yes,” Noss said tensely. “I have.”
“Then you know how badly it hurts. Do you think that might explain some of what drove Gabriel to that?”
“I—I suppose. I just don’t want it to happen again.”
“If he meant to hurt any of us, he would have,” she assured him. “We were standing in that spot for a while before you happened by. He was angry because he was missing something.” Turning to Paul, she said, “And you gave it to him. Gave it to us all. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Paul said with a smile.
“We’ll be all right now. I’ll take care of Gabriel,” she said. “We’ll all take care of each other. Thanks again.” With that, she turned and went back to her family.
Noss wasn’t altogether happy about it, but he and Paul left the Chesterfields after they’d taken the time they needed with Mae. They were piling back into the wagon when Gabe came over and asked, “You all right, Reverend?”
“Yes,” Paul replied.
“What about your hand?”
“I’ll see to it.”
“Let us dress it properly. It’s the least we can do.”
“That would be good of you.”
Noss watched Gabe carefully as Nora spread ointment onto some bandages and wrapped them around Paul’s hand. He waited for any sign that Gabe needed to be restrained or otherwise dealt with in a manner to which the sheriff was accustomed, but he found no cause for alarm. If anything, Gabe seemed tired and embarrassed. His children swarmed around him without pause. More than anything else, that put the lawman’s mind at ease.
Excusing himself as soon as the bandages were tied, Paul made his way back to his horse. “You ready, Sheriff?”
“I am. I just don’t know if I’m comfortable leaving that man with his family.”
“He made a mistake and he won’t forget it. He’s where he belongs now. After what he’s been through, he deserves that much.”
Chapter 18
“So, what took you two so long?” Sprole asked the instant Noss and Paul returned.
“There was business to tend to,” Noss told him.
“What kind of business?”
“The important kind. It’s tended to so don’t worry about it.”
They were back on the trail to Raynor, moving along at a steady pace. Wes was still tied up and breathing through the bandanna in his mouth, and the bounty hunter hadn’t stopped glaring at the other two. “No need to worry, huh?” Sprole grunted. “We lost the better portion of a day on this nonsense. Time, by the way, that was used by that killer to get ahead of us and warn Terrigan that we’re after him.”
“Do you honestly think that will frighten Jack Terrigan away?” Paul asked.
Without much thought, Sprole shrugged. “Probably not, but it’ll take away any element of surprise we might have had.”
“Then we’ll just have to think of something else.”
“Easy for you to say, preacher!” Sprole snapped.
Suddenly Noss twisted in his saddle as if he was about to draw his pistol and point it at the bounty hunter. “You should watch your mouth!”
“What did I say?”
“When you call him preacher, it sounds like you’re spitting the word at him. Learn some respect or I’ll teach it to you!”
“All right. Fine. You two grew real close while you were away. That’s real sociable. I ain’t interested in swapping spit with either of you, so get as close as you want. You know I’m talkin’ the truth when I tell you that letting Price get farther ahead of us, whether we know where he’s headed or not, ain’t such a good idea.”
“Did you ever think ahead to the possibility that this sort of thing might happen where we might get delayed somehow?” Paul asked.
“Sure I did, but that ain’t—”
“Well, that’s what happened. We’ve gotten a bit behind from where we thought we’d be, so let’s make up that time. Can’t we still regain some advantage if we arrive without being seen or find a way to get the drop on Terrigan once we’re there?”
Sprole scowled at Paul as if he’d just picked something sour from between his teeth. “Listen to you. And here I thought you just wanted to have a nice chat with Terrigan to discuss the error of his ways.”
Pointing a finger at the trail directly in front of them, Noss asked, “Is this still the way to Raynor?”
“You know it is,” Sprole replied.
“Then let’s not waste any more time and just get there before we grow too long in the tooth to do much of anything against Terrigan or his gang.” With that, the lawman snapped his reins and galloped ahead.
Shooting one more quick, irritated glance at Paul, Sprole followed and took Wes’s horse along with him. The prisoner’s hands had just enough wiggle room to grab on to the edge of the saddle so he could hang on for dear life.
Paul brought up the rear of the group. They had enough water to make it to Raynor, and the terrain was flat. Even so, it looked as if he had a long, grueling day in front of him.
* * *
Under normal circumstances, they would have made camp before heading the rest of the way into town. Considering what was at stake, however, even Sheriff Noss was willing to press onward awhile longer until they reached the outermost reaches of the little pocket of civilization called Raynor.
Like many settlements in the Arizona Territory, most of Raynor was situated in a clump of narrow streets, dusty buildings, and crooked alleyways surrounded by smaller structures, tents, corrals, and fenced-in vacant lots. Smaller structures extended from the main portion of town like wisps of smoke curling from a larger fire. By the time they arrived at the outermost extension of town, Paul, Noss, Sprole, and Wes were too tired to ride any farther.
The first place they found that suited their needs was an old barn that had been converted into a stable. Judging by the sorry condition of the wooden planks that had been used to cobble the barn together, it might have been standing there long before the rest of the town. A thin ghoul of a stableman greeted the weary group and demanded too much money to rent three stalls for the night.
After a small amount of bargaining, none of the men minded sleeping in the stalls. Actually, one did have a problem with the arrangement, but couldn’t say so bec
ause of a bandanna stuffed into his mouth. After several flips of a coin, Noss wound up sharing a stall with Wes. All he needed to do was threaten to crack the butt of his pistol against the prisoner’s head for the muffled complaints to stop. After that, the barn was filled with nothing more than the shuffle of hooves against old straw, the creak of wind passing between loose boards, and the snoring of three exhausted men.
Paul found it difficult to sleep. Although he had yet to lay eyes on Jack Terrigan, his muscles were tensed as though he were already staring straight into the killer’s eyes. Noss insisted that Paul carry his pistol with him at all times. The lawman’s reasoning was that, even if Paul never intended to pull the trigger, it would do some good for others to see three armed men on the posse instead of just two. Naturally, Sprole had questioned the value of that armed man being a preacher, but the old Colt remained on Paul’s person all the same.
The weapon felt cold and familiar in Paul’s hand. Lying in the corner of that stall, curled up on a pile of straw and a bedroll, he checked the weapon to make sure it would be good for anything other than blowing his hand apart if it was eventually fired.
One thought rattled around in the back of his mind like a rock in his boot, annoying him more and more until it developed into one simple question.
If the need arose, would he be able to kill a man?
As much as he wanted to have his talk with Terrigan, he knew it would be plain foolish to do so while unarmed. There was much to be said for going in with empty hands and a comforting smile, but men like Jack Terrigan didn’t respect that sort of thing. On the other hand, carrying a gun could be nothing but trouble. It went against everything Paul believed, and despite that, leaving the Colt behind hadn’t been an option.
He needed to bring the gun with him, whether anyone else agreed with the decision or not. Sprole would be behind him. In fact, the bounty hunter no doubt found it amusing for Paul to present himself as a walking, talking contradiction. Noss might take comfort from knowing Paul could defend himself, but he still got a twitch in the corner of one eye whenever he’d looked back to check on him and seen the holster beneath his morning coat.
Ralph Compton Brimstone Trail (9781101612637) Page 19