Hartnett must have understood what Bill meant. The men peeled back, splitting up as they did so. They turned and raced away from Castle Rock, not stopping until they were out of easy rifle range again.
“If we’d just ridden up bold as brass, they would have shot half of us out of the saddle before we knew what was happening,” Bill said.
“I’m surprised they didn’t wait until I was closer so they could be sure of drillin’ me, anyway,” Overstreet said.
“They might have if I hadn’t spotted the sun reflecting off a rifle barrel or something else up there. When they saw me pull out this Henry of mine, they knew we weren’t gonna waltz right into their ambush. That’s when they opened fire on you.”
“They came mighty close,” Overstreet said with his easy grin. “I swear I heard a bullet whistle past each ear at the same time. That’s why I think there are two of ’em up there.”
Bill tilted his head to look up.
“As long as they’re up there, the posse can’t get past,” he said.
“But as long as we’re down here, the bushwhackers can’t get away.”
“That’s right.”
“Then it looks like we got us a Mexican standoff.”
That was true, Bill thought, but it meant something else as well.
While the posse was stuck here, the rest of the outlaws were getting farther into the badlands…and taking Eden with them.
Chapter 29
A few more scattered shots rang out from the top of the spire, then silence fell over the prairie except for some fading echoes.
“They figured out they’re just wastin’ ammunition,” Overstreet said.
“Yeah,” Bill agreed. He was still studying the rock formation that towered above him.
Overstreet frowned and said, “You’re not thinkin’ about climbin’ that damn thing, are you?”
“They got up there somehow.”
“Yeah, but I’ll bet by now one of them’s coverin’ their horses and the place they climbed up, just in case we decided to do it, too. We wouldn’t have a chance in hell, Marshal.”
“I know. I never was much of one for climbing, anyway. I’d rather wait and let them climb down.”
“Why would they do that? Then we could pick them off without any trouble.”
“That’s right. They won’t budge from up there unless they think we’re gone.”
“Why would they think that?”
Bill glanced at the sky and said, “Because as soon as it starts to get dark, we’re lightin’ a shuck out of here.”
“You mean we’re givin’ up?” Overstreet sounded like he couldn’t believe that.
“No, but that’s what I want them to think.” The plan continued to form in Bill’s head. He put it into words because that helped him think it through. “When it’s too dark for good shooting but still light enough that they can see a little, we’re going to head back to the posse, riding double on my horse. They’ll probably take some shots at us, but I’m countin’ on the poor light to make them miss.”
“That’s a pretty big gamble,” Overstreet said.
“I know, but it’s the best I can come up with.”
“So we go back to the posse—”
“No, you go back to the posse,” Bill said.
“But you just said—”
“We’ll leave together, but when we get a few hundred yards out, where they won’t be able to see us, I’ll drop off the horse. Then I’ll use the grass and the darkness to cover me while I crawl back here. You’ll go on, riding hard so they can hear you the whole way, and join up again with Josiah and the rest of the posse.”
“You don’t think they’ll suspect something like that?” Overstreet asked.
“Not if they see both of us riding out and the horse never slows down.”
“So you’re gonna risk breakin’ your neck when you jump off, too.”
“That’s what you did earlier, and you survived.”
“Yeah, but I’m too damn dumb to get killed that way. That’s why they call it dumb luck.”
“Maybe I’ll have some dumb luck on my side,” Bill said.
Overstreet thought it over for a moment, then said, “You’re the boss, Marshal, so I reckon you’re callin’ the shots. Say that you don’t break your neck and you’re able to get back here without them knowin’ about it. Then what?”
“Then I wait for them to come down and ride off. Or try to, anyway.”
“What if they’ve got enough food and water to stay up there for days and keep us pinned down?”
“Then I’m no worse off than I am right now. Besides, you’re gonna tell Josiah that I said for the whole bunch of you to pull back a couple of miles and make camp. Build a good-sized fire. I want them to see you.”
“You want them to think we’re all pullin’ out.”
“That’s the idea,” Bill said. “The way I see it, there are two ways of lookin’ at this. It could be that those fellas are supposed to stay up there and keep us pinned down for days. But it’s possible they were just supposed to do as much damage as they could and slow us down, then light out for wherever the rest of the gang is holed up. That’s what I’m hoping. For one thing, I don’t think it’s too likely they’d want to be separated from their share of the loot for that long, and I can’t see them carrying it with them to the top of this damned rock.”
Overstreet rubbed his chin in thought and shrugged.
“You might be right about that, Marshal. I got to admit, it makes sense. If they think we’re all sittin’ out there two or three miles away on the prairie, they’ll have plenty of time to climb down and get away.”
“And when they do, I’ll be waitin’ for ’em,” Bill said.
“The only problem with that notion is that there’s at least two of them and only one of you.”
Bill nodded and said, “Yeah, but I’ll have surprise on my side. I’ll get the drop on them. If I do, I’ll fire three shots, spaced out a little, as a signal for the rest of you to come on in.”
“And if they kill you?”
“Then it’ll be up to Josiah…and you…and the rest of those men to keep on after them, recover that money, and rescue my wife.”
“We’ll do it, Marshal,” Overstreet vowed. “I know you don’t have much reason to believe me, but shoot, after the hell I raised back in Redemption, not many lawmen would’ve even let me come along on a posse like this. I appreciate you havin’ a little faith in me.”
“You haven’t done anything not to deserve it so far,” Bill pointed out. “Other than bein’ a little reckless and foolhardy now and then.”
Overstreet grinned and said, “Well, hell, that comes natural to us Texans, don’t it?”
Bill sure couldn’t argue with that.
The posse had drawn back well out of rifle range. From time to time Bill caught a glimpse of one of them. They were probably wondering what was going to happen next.
They would find out when the time came, he thought as he looked at the sky again. The sun had lowered close to the western horizon. A few high, wispy clouds hovered like rose-colored streamers in the pale blue sky. Another hour and true darkness would begin to settle over the landscape.
The timing of the plan was crucial. Bill wanted to catch that moment—what was the word for it? the gloaming?—when the last light of day made it too dark for accurate shooting but bright enough that the bushwhackers would be able to see that both he and Overstreet were on the horse.
Bill was glad his horse hadn’t bolted when they reached Castle Rock. The plan couldn’t have worked without the animal. He held on to the reins and stroked the horse’s neck as they waited.
Hunkered against the base of the spire, Overstreet asked, “What made you decide to settle down in Redemption, Marshal? I can’t imagine bein’ tied down so I couldn’t drift on whenever the notion struck me. No offense.”
Bill smiled faintly.
“None taken,” he said. “A year ago, I’d have said that I f
elt the same way, Jesse. I’d been on my own for a while, cowboyin’, trailin’ cattle up to the railhead, and I didn’t see how anybody would want to do anything else. Sure, it’s hard work, but a fella who does it is free.”
“Damn right,” Overstreet nodded.
“Yep, free to eat dust and burn in the sun and freeze in the rain and try to stay out of the way of proddy steers that want to trample him. Free to drink rotgut until you puke in an alley behind a saloon and then give what few coins you’ve left to some gal who doesn’t give a damn about you and just wants you to get finished so she can move on to the next poor cowboy.”
“Well, hell,” Overstreet said, “when you put it like that it don’t sound all that good! What about seein’ new country and wakin’ up every mornin’ not knowin’ what’s gonna happen that day? What about the way the air smells and the sky looks after a prairie thunderstorm? What about the pards you make who’ll never let you down, come hell or high water?”
“There’s all that to consider, too,” Bill allowed. “Your life, my life, they’re more alike than they are different, a mix of good and bad and things you never expect. If I hadn’t gotten gored in the leg and landed in Redemption, I’d have gone on cowboyin’ and never known the difference.” He paused. “But that did happen, and I have made a difference, I think. I’m not braggin’, but if I hadn’t been there, there’s a good chance Redemption might’ve been wiped out, either by outlaws or Indians. There are folks alive today who probably wouldn’t be if I hadn’t been around to rally the townspeople into fightin’ for themselves and their families. I’m not saying that I saved each and every one of those folks, not hardly, but me bein’ there helped. I figured out that’s worth something to me.”
Overstreet had listened quietly. Now he said, “I realize I ain’t known you for long, Marshal, but I think that’s the most words I ever heard you speak at one time.”
“Yeah, well, that was my one and only speech,” Bill told him with a grin. “Don’t expect to hear another one.”
“What you say makes sense, I reckon, but you left out one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You got to marry a mighty pretty girl, too.”
Bill laughed.
“That’s true. But I didn’t know you’d ever seen my wife.”
“Oh, I haven’t,” Overstreet said. “I’m just goin’ by how bound and determined you are to get her back. She must be mighty special.”
“She is,” Bill said. “You’ll get to meet her before this is over.”
“It’ll be my honor, Marshal.”
“Jesse, one more thing…why don’t you call me Bill? I’ve never been one for standin’ on ceremony and worrying about titles and such.”
“Why, sure, Bill,” Overstreet said with a grin.
A short time later, the sun slipped below the horizon. Bill felt himself growing more tense. He hadn’t heard a sound from the top of the spire for quite a while now, but he knew the outlaws were still up there. They had to be. They couldn’t have climbed down and ridden off without Bill and Overstreet hearing the horses.
Now that time was short, the waiting grew even harder. The glow faded from the western sky, and in the east the heavens shaded from dark blue to purple. As Bill looked out over the prairie, the occasional clumps of brush grew indistinct with the dwindling light.
Finally, he followed his instincts and said, “Mount up, Jesse. It’s time to go.”
Chapter 30
Overstreet climbed into the saddle, then extended a hand for Bill to grasp. Bill swung up behind the cowboy. He looped his left arm around Overstreet’s waist and held the Henry in his right hand.
“Remember, don’t slow down,” he said. “Keep the horse at a gallop. When I think we’re far enough away, I’ll drop off.”
“Good luck, Marshal. I mean, Bill.”
“Thanks.” Bill smiled in the gathering darkness. “I reckon I’ll need it.”
Overstreet dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and sent the animal lunging forward. Both he and Bill leaned forward to make themselves smaller targets.
As they rode straight out, away from the rock formation, one of the outlaws shouted to the other. Shots blasted from the center spire. Bill heard a bullet whine through the air fairly close to them, then another.
His gamble was paying off, though. In the poor light, the bushwhackers were trying to draw a bead on him and Overstreet, but they couldn’t quite do it. Fifty yards passed under the horse’s racing hooves, then a hundred. The outlaws continued firing, but none of the shots came close enough for Bill to hear the bullet’s song.
The shooting stopped when they were a couple of hundred yards from Castle Rock. By then the outlaws had figured out that they were just wasting shells. Overstreet kept the horse moving at the same pace, though. The rapid drumming of its hoofbeats filled the evening air.
Bill waited until they had covered another hundred yards. Then he said in Overstreet’s ear, “Don’t forget to tell Josiah what I told you!”
“I—”
That was all of Overstreet’s response that Bill heard. He let go and pushed himself off the horse, throwing himself to the side and twisting in the air so he would land on his shoulder and roll. That was the plan, anyway.
Bill crashed to the earth with such force that the rifle was jolted out of his hand, despite his best intention to hang on to it. His momentum carried him over and over, so many times that he couldn’t have counted the rolls even if he’d tried. When he finally came to a stop he was gasping for breath because the collision with the ground had knocked all the air out of his body, too.
He lay there for a long moment, half stunned and unable to do anything except try to drag breath back into his lungs. He heard the continued swift rataplan of hoofbeats as Overstreet galloped away into the shadows. The men on the rock spire could probably still hear that, but Bill was confident they hadn’t been able to see him dive off the horse. Gloom lay thick on the prairie now.
He moved his arms and legs, gratified to discover that they seemed to be working all right. He hadn’t broken his neck or anything else in the fall. The only real damage he had suffered were bruises and some scratches on his hands and face from rolling through the low brush. His bad leg ached, but that was nothing new.
Now he had to find his rifle and get back to Castle Rock.
Easily ignoring the small pains, he crawled back toward the place he thought he had landed. The Henry ought to be somewhere around there, he thought. He had trouble finding it, though, and that frustrated and irritated him as he continued to search. He had to make it back to the rock before the outlaws climbed down and got away. His plan depended on it.
A minute or so later, as he ran his hands over the ground, he touched the rifle’s barrel. A feeling of relief went through him as he ran his hand down the barrel to the breech and gripped it.
Now that he was fully armed again, he started toward Castle Rock. He stayed low, on his belly. That made for slow going, but at least he made steady progress. Even in the fading light he could see the towering rock formation because it was lighter in color than the landscape around it.
His hope was that the outlaws wouldn’t climb down and head for the hideout right away. They would wait until they were sure the posse was withdrawing, he told himself. But the uncertainty he felt made him move a little faster. He had to suppress the impulse to get up and run toward the rocks. Movement like that would give him away faster than anything.
As he crawled, he listened for the sound of horses moving away. He had known all along that the outlaws had to have their mounts tied on the other side of the formation. Earlier in the day he had considered sneaking around there and running off the horses, trapping the two outlaws on top of the spire.
Ultimately he had decided that wouldn’t do any good. He had no way of knowing how much food and water the men had up there. They might be able to stay for days, and Bill didn’t have that much time to waste. It was too big a risk.
Better to try to draw them down off the fortresslike formation, he had decided. He had a use for them, but only if they were down here on the ground where he could get to them.
He didn’t hear anything, which was good. He had almost reached the rocks when a glowing spark fell out of the sky and landed in front of him, startling him into catching his breath.
It was the butt of a quirley one of the outlaws had tossed off the top of the spire, he realized. That was proof they were still up there.
The question now was how long they were going to stay up there.
Bill couldn’t answer that. All he could do was wait and see. He started crawling again, going around the still-glowing cigarette butt, and a few minutes later reached the base of the towering spires.
Bill rolled against the rock and lay there for several moments, resting and gathering his thoughts. He knew that where he was now, the outlaws couldn’t see him, so he climbed to his feet and leaned against the chalky stone wall.
While he was waiting there, he saw a small orange glow on the prairie. As it grew larger, he knew it had to be the campfire he had told Overstreet to have Josiah Hartnett and the other men build. If Bill could see it, he knew the men on top of the spire could, too. They had a better view of it than he did and could estimate that it was several miles away.
Now to see how they would react, he thought.
A moment later he heard voices. He couldn’t make out the words, but they were having quite a discussion up there. Bill figured they were talking about whether to go ahead and pull out now that the posse had retreated and the ambush had failed.
On the chance that they would, Bill knew he had to get around on the other side of Castle Rock where the horses had to be.
As silently as possible, he began working his way around the formation toward the other side. He stuck close to the rock. When he reached the last spire, he slid along its base and held the rifle ready in both hands as he followed the curve of the formation.
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