Guns of Wolf Valley

by Ralph Cotton

  Callie and Ellis stood watching the men step their horses close to the porch as they circled behind Jessup and moved away into the night. When Rudy Banatell led Orsen and Ernie past the porch, he gave Ellis a dubious look and chuckled under his breath. “Mighty good show.” Looking at Callie, he tipped his hat slightly and said, “Ma’am, good evening then.”

  Watching Banatell and his men trail off behind the reverend and his believers, Callie said cautiously, “I don’t trust those three men any more than I do the Father and his Brothers.”

  Watching the torchlights disappear into the night, Ellis said, “You know what, Callie? Lately, neither do I.”

  They walked back inside, Callie going to the window to make sure Jessup and the riders were really gone. Ellis threw open the trapdoor and said down into the darkness, “It’s all right. They’re gone. You can come up.”

  But when no answer came right away, Ellis didn’t bother repeating himself. Instead he stood up and said to Callie, “They’re gone. Come on, let’s check the barn!”

  “Mother? Can Tic and I come out now?” Dillard asked from the doorway to his room.

  “Yes, but stay here in the house,” Callie said, taking time to warn him. “Jessup’s men might still be out there.” She hurried away through the open front door, Ellis having already run out to the barn.

  Callie caught up to him just inside the open barn door. “That fool!” Ellis said, realizing even as he spoke that Randall was no fool. “He must’ve heard me and Jessup having words and figured he couldn’t risk us bluffing Jessup away from here.”

  “I suppose we can’t blame him,” Callie said, quietly, watching Ellis take a lantern down from a wall peg and light it.

  Ellis held the lantern up, the two of them seeing the empty stall where the two wagon horses and his own horse had been stabled. Only one of the team horses stood there, staring at them blankly. In the next stall the big stallion stared at them in the lantern light. “Now we’re stopped cold,” Ellis said. “They took my saddle horse, so we’ve got no speed leaving here. They left only one of the team horses. So now we can’t depend on the wagon.”

  “I know they didn’t mean to strand us,” Callie said. “I’m sure they couldn’t even see what they were doing in the dark. They just took whatever was closest to them.”

  “It doesn’t matter whether they did it intentionally or not,” Ellis said. “Either way, we’re in trouble if Jessup catches up to them and they tell him we helped them.”

  “Maybe they’ll get away from him,” said Callie, hoping desperately for the couple.

  “Not with one of them riding a wagon horse, Callie. It’ll never keep up with my big bay. They’ll be down to one horse within an hour.”

  “God help them,” Callie whispered. “I don’t think they’ll tell Jessup anything,” she added. “Not after us hiding them the way we did.”

  “Jessup will torture it out of them, some way or other,” said Ellis. He stood in silence for a moment, then said, “Randall knows I’m not Sloane Mosely.”

  “He what?” Callie looked frightened. “How could he know? You didn’t tell him, did you?”

  Ellis said, “Of course not. He figured it out by the things we said, the way we said them. I don’t know how he figured it out. He just did. I told him he was wrong, but I know he didn’t buy it. He knows. And under enough torture, he’ll tell Jessup.”

  “What do we do?” Callie asked, her voice sounding weak all of a sudden.

  “I’ve got to go after them,” said Ellis. “I’ve got to tell them that right here is the safest place for them— for now anyway.”

  “Maybe we should just sit tight, hope they manage to get away,” Callie said.

  “We can’t risk it,” said Ellis. “With both Rudy Banatell and Randall Turner knowing I’m not your husband, I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before Jessup finds out. Jessup wants you, Callie. I can see it in his eyes. He’ll come calling again.” Ellis’s face grew dark in contemplation. “This time he’ll be harder to handle…knowing it’s not a big gunman like Sloane Mosely he’s facing.”

  Callie watched him walk toward the stall where her husband’s big stallion stood waiting as if it understood everything going on.

  While Ellis hastily saddled the stallion, he thought about what Rudy Banatell had told him about Sloane Mosely insisting that Rudy and his gang rob the bank in Paradise. Why would he do that? Ellis asked himself.

  Ellis’s answer struck him with such a profound realization that for a moment he had to stop what he was going to consider it closer. Mosely knew that this valley was almost inescapable. Standing in his cell, knowing his time had run out, had he directed Rudy Banatell toward Paradise, knowing that somehow Rudy and his gang coming here would mark the end of Malcom Jessup’s iron rule? Was this Mosely’s last desperate try at looking out for his wife, Callie, and their son? Did Sloane sic Rudy on Paradise, knowing that once he’d hang, his family had no way out of this valley?

  “What’s wrong?” Callie asked, stepping in closer to Ellis after seeing the look on his face.

  “Nothing,” Ellis said, shaking free of his thoughts, then going back to his task. He tightened the cinch, dropped the stirrup and tested the saddle with both hands. If what he thought was true, he had news for Sloane Mosely, Ellis told himself. He would have come here as a favor, if Mosely had asked him to. He wouldn’t have had to be lured here by the promise of a big fat bank waiting to be robbed. Stop it! he demanded of himself. This was all nothing more than speculation, and he had no time for idle speculation.

  Leading the stallion toward the barn door, he said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Meanwhile you and Dillard lay low.” He stopped at the door, kissed her and climbed atop the stallion. Without another word, he turned the stallion and headed out toward the hills rising up behind the house. As he swung out of sight into a stand of pines, he tucked his hat down more firmly on his forehead and whispered to himself, “Damn you, Sloane Mosely….”

  Chapter 13

  “The wagon horse can’t keep up, Delph!” Randall said, sounding harried, looking back and forth along the dark trail, where only moments before, he thought he’d heard the scraping sound of horses’ hooves on the rocky ground.

  “We’ll never get out of this valley riding double,” Delphia said, anticipating what Randall was about to say. Yet even as she spoke, she slipped down from the shorter, stockier wagon horse and let the tired horse’s reins fall to the ground.

  “We have no choice!” Randall said, circling back on Ellis’s big bay and reaching a hand down to her. Without protest, she grabbed his hand and forearm and swung up behind him on the bay.

  “All right then, let’s go!” she said, throwing her arms tightly around his waist, adjusting her seating and bracing herself as the big bay lunged forward into a run. Behind them the worn-out wagon horse began making his way back down the steep path toward the main trail across the floor of Wolf Valley.

  Over an hour later, crossing the valley floor, Brother Searcy spotted the tired horse in the light of the half-moon. Pointing up along a rocky ledge, Searcy said, “Father Jessup! Up there! I saw something!”

  Seeing the outline of the animal, Jessup replied, “Yes, an abandoned horse I believe.” Drawing the riders to a halt, he said to Searcy and Edmunds, who rode flanking him, “Quickly, you two go get it and bring it down here to me.”

  As the two bodyguards rode toward a path leading up toward the wagon horse, Rudy Banatell said to Orsen and Ernie in a sly tone, “See what I’m seeing?” He stared forward at Jessup sitting alone and unprotected at the head of the column of believers.

  Orsen and Ernie looked at one another dumbly and shrugged. “No,” said Orsen, “what are you seeing?”

  “I’m seeing opportunity stare us in the eyes. Right now would be the best time in the world to slip up beside the good reverend, put a gun to his holy head and tell him we’re taking over Paradise. I bet he’d melt like soft wax on a stove.”

 
; Orsen grinned and said eagerly, “Want to do it right now? Just for the hell of it?”

  “Real soon, Orsen, real soon,” said Rudy. “Once a man starts letting down his guard, it ain’t long before you can splatter his nose all over his face.”

  “Why do we want to do that?” Ernie asked, not understanding the example Rudy gave them.

  “Damn, Ernie,” Orsen growled under his breath. “Please tell us that you ain’t really that stupid.”

  “How stupid?” Ernie looked more confused.

  Shaking his head, Rudy gigged his horse forward, saying over his shoulder to Orsen, “Talk to this boy some. See if you can teach him something. I’m going up there and test the water some.”

  Orsen said wryly to Ernie, “You do know what he means by ‘testing the water some,’ don’t you?”

  Ernie gave him a scowl without answering.

  At the head of the riders, Jessup appeared a bit startled when Rudy sidled his horse up close to him, on his right side where Searcy usually rode. Seeing the look on Jessup’s face, Rudy jerked his horse away quickly and said quickly, “Begging your pardon, Reverend! I didn’t meant to scare you, riding up the way!” Rudy’s eyes had been busy, checking to see if Jessup made any sudden moves toward a gun. Then, satisfied that the reverend was unarmed, Rudy grinned and relaxed in his saddle.

  “You didn’t scare me, Mr. Able,” said Jessup. He turned his face away from Rudy and toward the two bodyguards riding away in the darkness.

  “Of course not, Reverend,” said Rudy. “Scare wasn’t the right word. I meant to say surprise.” Rudy grinned.

  “Yes, surprise has a better sound to it.” Jessup nodded and sat staring off in the direction Searcy and Edmunds had taken.

  “Yes, surprise.” Rudy gazed off with him for a moment, then said, “Well, anyway, I was just telling my two associates that, since this hunt is taking much longer than you had expected it to, perhaps the three of us should turn back and await your arrival in Paradise.”

  “Never fear, Mr. Able,” said Jessup. “It’s the Lord’s will! I’ll capture this man and take him back before this night is over.”

  “Nothing like confidence, I reckon,” Rudy said, again smiling broadly. As he spoke, he raised his Colt from its holster, cocked it and started to take aim at a large jackrabbit that had loped into sight thirty yards away.

  “Fire that weapon at your own peril, sir!” Jessup warned him. “We are on a manhunt here!”

  Rudy lowered the gun, unlocking it. “Excuse me, Reverend,” he said. Then in a defensive tone he said, “I left Paradise thinking I’d be back before dinner. My belly must’ve gotten the better of me.” Holstering the Colt, he turned his horse away from Jessup’s harsh gaze and rode back to join Orsen and Ernie.

  Moments later, Brothers Edmunds and Searcy came riding back down from the ledge, leading the tired wagon horse by its reins. Even in the pale moonlight Jessup recognized the Mosely wagon horse at once. Sidling up to it, he ran a hand along the sweaty horse’s mane, saying, “It appears that either Sloane Mosely has deceived us, or that he himself has been a victim of Randall Turner’s rash undertaking.” He looked all around and continued, saying, “Whatever the case, he will owe us an explanation when we return.”

  Having ridden up closer to hear what was being said when Edmunds and Searcy brought the horse down to Jessup, Rudy, Orsen and Ernie listened and watched, Rudy noting eagerly that even with his bodyguards back beside him, Jessup was not staying as safely tucked between them as usual. “Prepare yourselves, boys,” he said to Orsen and Ernie out the corner of his mouth. “It won’t be much longer.”

  “You mean the bank?” Ernie whispered.

  “Bank, hell,” said Rudy, grinning. “I’m going to get everything this arrogant fool has.”

  Having pushed Ellis’s big bay hard throughout the night, in the grainy hour before dawn, Randall and Delphia finally rode the big bay across the last stretch of flatlands to the narrow pass leading out of Wolf Valley. Before entering the pass, Randall stopped the horse, let out a breath of relief, raised his face toward the sky and cried out loudly, “Thank God!” Then, listening to his voice echo before them, he tilted his head back to Delphia and said, “Wife, this big bay has done well. He’s brought us to freedom.”

  Delphia reached a hand up and ran it across her husband’s clammy forehead. Tearfully she said, “Take us on, husband. Let’s not waste a minute.”

  Randall nudged the big bay forward into the narrow pass, but before they had gone a hundred yards, they stopped abruptly at the sound of horses’ hooves descending from the rocks surrounding them. Randall circled the big bay, seeing the dark outlines of riders closing in around them. He nudged the horse forward, preparing to charge through the riders. “I wouldn’t try to make a run for it if I was you,” said a voice.

  Randall stopped at the sound of a rifle cocking. Behind him Delphia said in a shaky voice, “Oh no! Please God, no! Randall, go on!” Wildly she tried to bat her heels against the horse’s sides; but Randall held the big bay in place, seeing the rifle pointed at them.

  “Stop it, Delph,” he said over his shoulder. “They’ve got us cold.”

  Delphia slumped against her husband’s back.

  “Better listen to him, little lady,” said Frank Falon. “You don’t want to both die out here, do you?”

  “Yes!” Delphia said defiantly, recognizing Falon and his men as they drew in closer. “I’d rather die than go back to that pig, Jessup!”

  “I’ll be damned. It’s that wolfer,” said Falon, looking them over as he held his rifle on them. “I heard you thanking God, wolfer.” He grinned, saying, “You should’ve thanked Him a little quieter, eh?”

  Randall only stared.

  To Delphia Falon said, “A pig? Now that’s a shameful thing to call your husband—your real husband that is.”

  “Jessup is not my real husband,” said Delphia, “and you know it. This is my real husband!”

  “That ain’t what I heard Jessup say that day in the street,” Falon said, wearing a tight smile.

  “Randall and I were man and wife before we ever laid eyes on Wolf Valley or Jessup and his whole wicked community,” said Delphia.

  “You best settle down, little lady,” Falon cautioned her. Then to Randall he said, “Last I saw of you, Jessup was ready to give you a good skinning with his bullwhip.” He grinned, looking from Randall back to Delphia. “She was all that kept him from killing you. Made quite a trade to Jessup for you would be my guess.” His eyes went up and down Delphia’s bare leg. “I expect I can’t blame ol’ Father Jessup for that, can you, Ace?”

  Ace Tomblin, Colt in hand, sidled up to Falon. The rest of the wolf hunters drew in tighter around the couple. “Naw, I can’t blame Jessup either,” said Tomblin, “women being at such a premium hereabouts.”

  “Indeed they are,” said Falon. “Of course her being the reverend’s wife and all, I suppose we ought to be on our best behavior,” Falon said.

  Seeing the men’s eyes explore his wife hungrily, Randall said firmly, “Frank, let us go. I’m begging you! You’ve seen how Jessup does people. He takes their land, their possessions, their wives!”

  “You’re breaking my heart, wolfer,” said Falon.

  “Listen how you always call my kind wolfer,” said Randall, trying to appeal to whatever humanity the man might have inside himself. “You say it like you’re so much better than me! But can’t you see we’re no different? You trap and kill them. I skin and boil their bones. Jessup is the only one who reaps the rewards from it! We are both slaves to the same cruel Lord!”

  “No, there is a difference, wolfer,” said Falon. “I’m a whole lot farther up the ladder than you are. Jessup ain’t my Lord. He just pays me to do his killing for him. Or in this case, getting a flea out of his whiskers.” He grinned. “I know he’s a no-good son of a bitch. So what? Ain’t we all?”

  “No, we’re not! We don’t have to be! You can be a better man than he is, Falon,” Randa
ll said, trying to reason with him. “Just let us pass through here. He’ll never know you did it.”

  “Listen to you carry on, wolfer,” Falon said, chuckling slightly. “I suppose you’re right. I could be a better man than him—” He paused and grinned at Ace Tomblin, then shrugged and said, “But hell, maybe I don’t want to!” He nodded to his men, saying, “Neither do they.” Looking back at Delphia, he said, “Of course, a pretty woman could always change our minds. Right, Ace?”

  Ace Tomblin only grunted a reply.

  “I’m carrying a child!” said Delphia, hoping to discourage Falon and his men from forcing themselves on her.

  “No kidding?” said Falon to Randall with a dark grin. “Then congratulations are in order.” Looking back at Delphia he said, “I never knew of that stopping anybody from doing what folks do. Some folks even say they like it better when a woman is—”

  Delphia cut him off, saying, “Father Jessup will kill all of you if you force yourselves on me!”

  Falon laughed. “Whoa! Let me get this straight. A while ago, Jessup was a pig. Now that you think his name can protect you, he’s Father Jessup!”

  “Yeah,” said Ace Tomblin. “Next thing you know, she’ll be saying Jessup really is her husband.” He threw up a hand. “I give up! Woman, how many husbands do you have?”

  Falon shook his head while the others laughed at Ace’s little joke. “Funny, ain’t it,” said Falon, “how a woman gets to pick and choose all she wants. A man has to take what he can get, whenever he can get it.” His mood seemed to darken. “Climb down off that horse, both of yas.”

  Delphia refused to move. “I’m warning all of you. I will tell Jessup. He will kill you!” She clenched her arms tightly around Randall’s waist.

  But Randall, who had been observing Falon and Tomblin as they spoke, said to Delphia in a calm voice, “Let’s step down, Delph. They’re not going to bother you, are you, Falon?”

  “Hell no,” said Falon. “I’m doing what we always do for Jessup when we catch somebody escaping the valley. Except this time, he is going to reward me beyond belief!”