by Phil Dunlap
“It’s none of your damned business. I can handle it myself.”
“Of course. No one ever figured you for a man that needed help from anyone.”
“You’re damned right about that, gunslinger.”
“But it don’t hurt none to talk about a situation, in fact it sometimes helps to clear the air. Lets you see the problem in a different light. That’s all I was sayin’.”
“What does all that hogwash you’re a-spewin’ mean? You ain’t makin’ fun of me, are you? That’d be a big mistake.” He let his hand ease toward his sidearm.
Quick to see he had to defuse the situation, Jack kept his voice calm and made no move to take a defensive posture.
“Look, Blade. No one’s makin’ fun of you, least of all me. I sure as hell don’t want to be your enemy. But it don’t hurt a man to talk about what’s eatin’ at him, that’s all I’m sayin’.”
Blade eased his hand back off his gun and seemed to relax a little. He chewed on his lower lip and frowned. He took his hat and slapped in on the bed beside him.
“I reckon a man just gets tired of bein’ pushed around by a son of a bitch like Virgil Cruz. We was friends for a while, then he got too uppity when he got the idea for this big job he’s planning. Now he thinks he’s some sort of king or something.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. He’s playin’ his cards a little close to the vest for me, too. But I figure I’ll hang around and see what comes of it all. After all, a man like me is always in need of quick cash,” said Jack, hoping not to spook Blade by saying too much, yet still keep him talking.
“Yeah, well, he’s goin’ to push me a mite too far one of these days and he’ll end up getting just what he’s handing out. If it weren’t for him havin’ that Wagner woman stashed away, the sheriff would have already blowed him away.”
“The sheriff?”
“Yeah. Cotton Burke. You may have heard of him. He’s real slick with that Colt of his. He could take Virgil without thinkin’ about it. Might even be faster than me. But I ain’t aimin’ to find out. Soon as we hit that train, I’m headin’ for Montana with my share.”
“Been to Montana myself a time or two. A fella needs to keep a sharp lookout for Indians, though. They’re thicker than fat fleas on a small dog.” Jack hoped that steering the conversation away from Blade’s revelation of a train robbery would make it appear he knew more than he did. How long that would work, he wasn’t sure. Blade seemed like a man who was driven by how he felt at the time—not very intelligent, but quick on the trigger.
“You got yourself a woman up there, Blade?”
“Naw. They’s mostly just whores or army-camp followers. Not many available for marryin’, if that’s what a fella’s got a mind to do.”
“That what you’re gonna do with your share of the take, get hitched?” Jack said.
“Don’t reckon I’m much for gettin’ no wife. But if I was, that Emily Wagner would be a real fine woman. Purty as she can be. Ain’t right Virgil got her holed up in that old line shack like that. But he ain’t one for makin’ a woman feel at home and all. Far as he’s concerned, she’s just a way for him to stay clear of the sheriff. That’s probably good thinkin’.”
“She’s a good-lookin’ lady, huh? Maybe we ought to take a ride out there and take a look for ourselves. Maybe take her some flowers or somethin’ pretty,” Jack said, snickering at the idea. He thought for a moment he saw a flicker in Blade’s eye that maybe he favored the idea. But just as quickly, his demeanor returned to the surly frown he had when he came in.
“Naww. If Virgil found out, he’d gun us down like he done them Tulip brothers. I don’t figure to give him a chance to put a bullet in my back.”
“Well, I don’t know a thing about any Tulip brothers, but if what you say about that Emily lady is right, I got a hankerin’ to lay eyes on her myself. Only if she’s a real looker, of course. Don’t cotton much to them whores in the saloons, though,” said Jack.
“I’ll give it some thought. But don’t go gettin’ your head set on it. Virgil ain’t goin’ to want any of us wanderin’ off afore he lays out the plan.”
“When’s that goin’ to be?”
“First thing in the mornin’ is what he said.” Blade stretched out on his bunk, fingers interlaced behind his head.
If he could get away long enough to ride into town, Jack could bring Cotton a great deal of the information he’d been sent out to the Brennan ranch to collect. Things had been going easier than he’d ever imagined. Maybe a little too easy. As he stood up to wander outside, he ran smack into Virgil, who, it appeared, had been hanging around just outside the bunkhouse. How much of that conversation with Blade did the cagey rattler overhear? Now it was Jack’s turn to get nervous.
Chapter 36
The saloon grew ominously quiet as the sheriff pushed through the batwing doors. He stopped and looked around before taking a seat near the front window. He motioned for Billy to bring him a beer and one for himself. Billy never turned down an offer for a free drink. While he was actually the owner of the place, he was wise enough to know that drinking up one’s own profits was never good business. So he drank only when someone offered to buy. Billy brought two beers and sat at Cotton’s table. He was wiping his hands of some foam that had overflowed the glasses.
“Billy, why is the place so quiet?”
“I’m not sure. Could be several reasons.”
“Name some of them.”
“Why do you care if it’s quiet? Seems you’d like it better than if those rannies were all whoopin’ and hollerin’ and shootin’ up the place.”
“I should, but I’m suspicious when things aren’t normal. And they certainly aren’t right now.”
“Well, there has been some talk goin’ around that you’re afraid of facin’ up to Virgil Cruz and his men. There’s also some that’s sayin’ Cruz has kidnapped Emily Wagner and you ain’t lifted a hand to get her free. Now, a’ course I don’t believe a word of it myself, but that’s what’s driftin’ across the bar.” Looking nervous, Billy took a swig of his beer.
Cotton leaned back in his chair. He held the beer glass with both hands then sipped it. He stared at the wet rings that had been left on the tabletop.
“Reckon folks has a right to their opinions, Billy. I don’t pay much attention to ignorant cowpokes. But I’m curious who’s been doin’ all the speculatin.”
“No one in particular. Mostly a bunch of fools just lettin’ off steam and keepin’ themselves busy blabberin’ a passel of nonsense. That’s all it is.” Billy took an even bigger swig of beer. Two cowboys came in and walked to the bar. They stood for a second, looking for Billy, then one of them pounded on the bar.
“Hey, bartender, how about some service for a couple of thirsty coyotes?”
Billy got up hastily and went around the bar to serve the cowboys. “What’ll it be, gents?”
One of the men said he’d have whiskey and he dropped two bits on the bar. The other one ordered the same, then leaned over and in a near whisper said, “Say, ain’t that our chickenshit sheriff you was drinkin’ with? Don’t you have no pride, Billy?”
Billy didn’t even blink when he answered, “Gents, if I was you, I’d let that notion of him bein’ a coward blow away with the wind and not bring it up in public again. That is, unless you want to be facin’ down one of the fastest Colts this side of the Rio Grande. Just a piece of advice from a friend.”
The cowboys looked at each other, downed their whiskeys, and left in a hurry. Billy had a smirk on his face as he returned to Cotton’s table.
“What was that all about?”
“Just some more of the ignorance that’s goin’ around. Pay it no mind.”
“Billy, have you any idea who was last seen with Red Carter?”
“Red was real chummy with Virgil at first, then all of a sudden they was chafing at each other somethin’ awful. I expected gunplay before it was all over, but nothin’ happened. It appeared as though they were c
ookin’ up some sorta deal, then Red seemed to get himself a change of mind, and whatever the deal with Virgil was, it kinda went sour.”
Melody was sick and tired of waiting around for Memphis Jack to return to Gonzales and her bed. She had made up her mind to do something about it. She went to the sheriff’s office and asked if he knew anything about a man named Cotton Burke and where he might be found.
“Why, hell yes, Melody, he’s the sheriff up in Catron County. Straight north ’bout a hundred miles. You plannin’ on goin’ up there for a wee visit?” he said with a smirk.
“Don’t go gettin’ all righteous, Sheriff. I ain’t goin’ nowhere to see that skunk Cotton Burke. I got other fish to fry. I thank you for the information.” She turned and left the sheriff’s office in a huff.
Reckon I will take a little trip up north, and when I see that Cotton Burke, maybe I’ll just plug him, she thought.
She hurried back to the hotel to pack and arrange for one of the fallen angels who worked for her to be in charge while she was away. Melody made sure to pack some of her most alluring clothes—that would make Jack sorry he left—and her derringer—that was to plug Cotton if he tried to stop her from taking Jack back.
When she was packed, she dragged her suitcase over to the stage company office to buy a ticket. She dropped her luggage just inside the narrow room.
“I’d like a ticket to Catron County on the next stagecoach going that way,” she said to the mousey man behind the counter. She pulled out some money from her handbag, unfolded it, and prepared to shell out whatever the man said the price of the ticket was. It didn’t really matter the cost, she was too anxious to get Jack back to worry about such mundane matters. Besides, she could make it back in a few of days. And with her looks and the number of woman-starved cowpokes in Gonzales, she’d be even more in demand, and the money would flow like wine as it always had. Which was one of the reasons Jack had taken up with her in the first place. She had no illusions as to the scope of Jack’s interest.
“Would that be Apache Springs you’re goin’ to for a visit?” the man said.
“Is that the only town in Catron County?”
“Only one where the stage stops. Couple of dirty little crossroads further north, but nothin’ that amounts to more’n a pile of dung.”
“Then I reckon it’s going to have to be Apache Springs. When does it leave?”
“Tomorrow morning, ’bout eight-thirty. Be out front with your luggage. I’m shorthanded and I ain’t got no one to fetch it from the hotel.”
“I brought it along. I’ll leave it right here inside the front door. You just keep an eye on it. And make sure you lock up tight when you leave. I’ll be back first thing in the morning.” With that, she turned and danced out with her shoulders thrown back, a spring in her step, and a wide smile on her lips.
Watch out, Cotton Burke, you’re about to get the surprise of your life.
Chapter 37
“Where the hell’s Blade?” Virgil bellowed in Jack’s face.
“Inside.” Jack threw a thumb over his shoulder.
Virgil pushed Jack aside and stormed into the bunkhouse. “Blade, why the hell didn’t you bring Ben back from town?”
Blade sat up on his bunk, ran a hand across his stubbly face, and scowled at Virgil’s blustering manner.
“He wasn’t there. And I ain’t his nursemaid.”
“You are now. Get your sorry ass outta that bunk and go find him. He’s gotta be somewhere.” Virgil turned and stormed outside. He was soon heard berating one of the other ranch hands for not unsaddling his horse fast enough.
Jack came back inside just in time to see Blade go for his revolver and start to aim it at Virgil’s back. Jack grabbed Blade’s wrist and pushed down. “Whoa, pardner, that’s no way to handle this. You’ll get yourself hanged for backshootin’ the man, no matter how bad he deserves it. How ’bout we go do what he wants done? Give him enough rope, he’ll end up hangin’ himself. But you shouldn’t have to pay for it,” he said.
The fury in Blade’s eyes told how tightly wound he was. Jack could see that Blade’s loyalty to Virgil Cruz ended pretty much right where the almighty dollar began, and that was possibly the only thing keeping Cruz alive. This robbery they’re planning to pull off must really be big, Jack thought. It could work in my favor if I play my cards right.
Blade squinted as he stared Jack straight in the eyes; then, reluctantly, he released the hammer and jammed the gun back in its holster. “Maybe you’re right. I want the son of a bitch dead, sure enough, but I reckon another time will work just as well. C’mon, we’ll ride out and see if we can find Ben.”
Jack was pleased with Blade’s turnaround in attitude. Maybe he’d gotten someplace with his efforts to talk reason to him. He knew Blade wasn’t very intelligent, and a couple of times it had been questionable whether Jack had gone too far, risking his own neck in the process. It appeared Blade was beginning to trust him. But Virgil wasn’t the trusting sort, as Jack quickly found out. When they began saddling their mounts, Virgil stormed up to Jack.
“Where the hell do you think you’re goin’, Stump? I didn’t say nothin’ about you leavin’, did I?”
“Why, er, no, I reckon not. I just figured it would be easier if two of us went lookin’ for your friend. That’s all.” Jack could see the blood in Virgil’s eyes. This man was right on the edge of exploding, like nitro in the hot sun.
“Well, you figured wrong. I want you here where I can keep an eye on you. I ain’t decided whether I trust you yet.”
“How will you know if you don’t let me do some work for you?”
“I’ll know, all right. I got me a keen eye for rattlers. I know when they’re about to strike long before I hear the sound. Same with men, I can tell when they’re about to turn on me long before they make the mistake. Now, unsaddle that gelding and make yourself comfortable. When the others get here, we got some plannin’ to do.” Virgil stomped off toward the corral.
Blade scowled at Virgil’s back as he left. Blade’s anger was smoldering like a three-day-old barn fire. Jack knew that if he could keep Blade from jumping too soon, he might have an ally when the time came. But that time wasn’t now, and he knew he had to be patient and keep his mouth shut. Blade rode off in the direction of the rough country where Jack had stumbled onto Cappy and Wu Chang, very near where they had found Hank Brennan’s battered body.
As Jack began unsaddling his horse, Virgil yelled at him from across the barnyard. “Hey, Stump, run up to the house and see if that damned Chinaman’s got us some vittles yet. I’m starving.”
A perfect opportunity to look in on Hank. Also, he could tell Wu Chang to get back to cooking full-time. He could no longer get away with feigning weakness from stomach problems. Cappy could devote his time to helping his father. Virgil would assume Cappy was too afraid to show his face and would gladly let the younger Brennan stay inside out of his way. Cappy met Jack in the large entry hall.
“Mr. Stump, I sure am glad to see you. What’s that bastard Cruz got up his sleeve?”
“I don’t know yet, but it ain’t got nothin’ to do with ranchin’, of that I’m certain. How’s your dad getting along? Can I go up and see him?”
“Yessir, he’d be glad to talk a bit. He’s cantankerous about havin’ to stay put until he heals enough to face the bastard that tried to kill him.”
“You must keep him out of sight, no matter what happens. Cruz won’t hesitate to put a bullet in him if he finds out he’s alive. If Hank talks, Cruz will hang, and he knows it.”
As they walked into Hank’s bedroom, Jack stuck out his hand. Hank took it with his good hand and a weak grin. “Thanks for helpin’ save my worthless hide, son. Cappy here told me what all you done and your plan to keep that son of a bitch Virgil Cruz in the dark. I’m beholden to you.”
“I know Cruz is plannin’ something big, a robbery or something. I already told Cappy I was sent here by the sheriff, Cotton Burke, to find out what Cruz is up
to. It’s important Cruz doesn’t find out you’re alive. You have to lay low until we can either bust up Virgil’s plans or put him behind bars for something he’s already done. You gettin’ pushed off that cliff could be that somethin’ if I can get word to Cotton.”
“Hey, I could ride into town and tell the sheriff whatever you want me to,” said Cappy.
Jack thought about that for a minute. He couldn’t allow Cappy to put himself in danger. Without Cappy to look after Hank, the whole plan could crumble. But then, how else was he going to get the word to Cotton? He knew Cruz wouldn’t allow him to go riding off by himself. Besides, he needed to be around when Virgil disclosed the plans for the robbery. Just then, an idea formed.
“Cappy, what if you were to tell Cruz you have to take the buckboard into town for supplies? Tell him if he wants to eat, Wu Chang needs beans, flour, potatoes, bacon, coffee—you know, all the stuff he usually gets in town.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll get right to it.” Cappy jumped at Jack’s suggestion. Sitting around the big ranch house with the heavy drapes drawn must have been beginning to get on his nerves.
“One thing, Cappy. Don’t let any of Cruz’s men that might be in town see you talking to the sheriff when you get to Apache Springs. One or two could have ridden in earlier, and you might not come back alive,” said Jack.
Cappy took his time digesting Jack’s words for a moment before smiling weakly and nodding his understanding. Jack saw fear in the boy’s eyes. He didn’t like sending this innocent young man into a potentially dangerous situation, but it was the only thing he could think to do at the moment. He slapped Cappy on the back.
“You’ll do fine.”
Chapter 38
Cotton looked up from cleaning his Colt when a buckboard pulled up across the street. He saw Cappy Brennan jump down from the conveyance and step onto the plank walk. Cappy hesitated for a moment, glancing across at the sheriff’s office, then continued on inside the general store. Cotton was intrigued by the boy’s curious behavior but went back to his cleaning.