“No apology is necessary, father,” she said, taking off her apron and laying it on the table. “I’ll get Jezzie into harness and be gone before you know it.”
“Be safe now,” he said, opening the door for her.
“I will, and give Tucker my best when you see him.”
Closing the door behind her, he took a deep breath, removed the pot from the hot part of the stove, then darted into the bedroom and closed the drapes. He couldn’t leave until she did, but pressed for time, he decided to take a chance and get ready.
Pulling off his priest’s robe, he flapped open the heavy fabric and laid it on the bed, then removing his facial disguise, he placed all the items carefully in the middle, folded the robe around them, and coiled it up to make it look like a thin bedroll. Glancing out the side of the curtain, he saw Maude had her horse in its harness and was climbing on board. Willing her to hurry up, he watched her move the mare forward and head toward the track that would carry her around the thicket rather than through it. It was a longer route, but the trail through the trees wasn’t wide enough for the buggy. He waited until he saw her turn the corner, then grabbing his phony bedroll, he raced out to the corral and quickly saddled up one of the horses provided by Duke.
Though he galloped toward town, when he hit Main Street he slowed the horse to a walk, and as he ambled down the road no one paid him any attention. He stopped at the livery stable and Frank Barlow didn’t show even a flicker of recognition, but Tucker didn’t expect him to. Tucker was just another stranger passing through town, and neither he nor the horse he was now leaving in Frank’s care bore any resemblance to the bearded catholic priest and the priest’s horse, Ranger.
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be,” Tucker said, giving Frank enough money to take care of the horse for the afternoon. “I could be an hour, or much longer, but he won’t be stayin’ overnight.”
“Not to worry. We’ll take care of him. What’s his name?”
“Slick,” Tucker replied, coming up with the name on the spot.
“I like it,” Frank smiled. “Come on, Slick, let’s get you some hay.”
As Tucker watched him lead the horse away, he spotted Billy in the back cleaning up the corrals. Frank was a good man, he had a son who would probably take over the business one day, and Tucker felt a renewed determination to make Spring Junction a place in which they, and the other decent folk in the town, could once again feel safe. Heading down the street, his bedroll tucked under his arm, he went directly to Sam’s Mercantile. Entering the store, he kept his head down until Sam had finished serving the customers.
“Hi, Sam,” he said, approaching the counter.
“Hey there,” Sam said breaking into a smile, genuinely pleased his hero had returned. “Good to see you. Is there somethin’ you need?”
“Yep, your storeroom for a bit, and I’ll be usin’ your back door, if that’s okay?”
“Sure, sure, help yourself, come on through,” Sam said eagerly. “I’m glad to help.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be needin’ to come and go,” Tucker said as he moved past the counter and followed Sam into the back. “I could be outta here quick, or be hangin’ around a while.”
“Take as much time as you need,” Sam replied. “I’ll make sure no one comes back here.”
“Can I use your loft?”
“Sure, there’s not much up there, just a cot and some bits and pieces.”
“Thanks, that’s about all I need.”
“Darn it, a customer,” Sam muttered as the bell over the front door caught his attention. “I’d best go, but like I said, make yourself at home.”
As Sam hurried to the front of the store to serve the shopper, Tucker moved up the narrow stairs. The loft was roomy and bright with a chest of drawers in a corner, offering a pitcher and basin sitting on top and a mirror above it. Moving across to the windows, he found one had an excellent view of Main Street, and the other, a vantage point of the empty area at back of the building. The loft would be the perfect base.
Unrolling the robe, he set the beard, mustache, eyebrows, and glasses aside, then pulled the robe on over his regular clothes. It had been Tucker who had walked up the stairs, but a few minutes later it was Father O’Brien who carefully climbed down them and left through the back door, making sure to leave it unlocked before closing it.
Walking quickly through the desolate area behind the buildings, he turned up a narrow path between two stores a short distance from Kitty’s, then stooping slightly over and moving much more slowly, he turned into the busy street. Checking his pocket watch, he saw it had just passed eleven forty-five a.m. He was later than he’d wanted to be, but he hadn’t anticipated being held up by his lovely Dolly. As he approached the swinging doors, he peered over the top and scanned the patrons. None of the men looked like the rough nasty types who worked for the McGill brothers. Pushing open the doors, he walked inside, and spying Kitty at the end of the bar, he headed across to talk to her, feeling the eyes of the room on him as he did.
“Good mornin’, father,” she said warmly. “Welcome back. Are you here to save more souls and listen to more woes?”
“I am indeed,” he replied.
“I’m not sure how safe it will be,” she remarked, lowering her voice. “Word is, you did some damage to some of the McGill gang out at Duke Baker’s cabin. Is it true? Were there really four of them? Did you shoot two of them and send all of them their way?”
“Me and the Lord,” he said with a wink.
“How? Forgive me, but you’re not exactly built to fight.”
“Like I said, God is on my side. Would you please show me to the same room that I had last time I was here?”
“If you’re sure,” she sighed, “but they’re bound to find out that you’re here. The gang has people all over town, and you’re not exactly difficult to spot.”
“You let me worry about that,” he said reassuringly. “I just need you to lead the way.”
“I will, but I can’t say I’m not scared for you.”
He followed her up the stairs and down the hallway, but the moment they entered the bedroom he quickly closed the door and guided her to a corner of the room, making sure they couldn’t be overheard should someone wander past.
“You were right, Kitty. Some men from McGill’s gang might stop by and ask if I’m here,” he said quietly. “Go ahead and tell them which room I’m in.”
“But father…”
“Kitty, I need your help. I may seem like a crazy Irish priest, but I know what I’m doing. Do you believe me?”
She paused, staring into his eyes through his spectacles, then slowly nodded her head.
“I do believe you, father. What do you need?”
“Tell them you’re not sure if I’m alone, and bring them up here yourself, but when you knock on the door, knock the number of men who are there.”
“What a clever idea.”
“Then leave, but make it quick. Bullets will start flying and I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I’ll get out real fast,” she promised, “but I hope you know what you’re doin’.”
“One last thing. The room directly across from this one, number four, can you leave that door unlocked with the key on the inside?”
“You bet, and here’s the key to this one,” she said, handing it to him, “but I’ve gotta tell you, father, I’m gettin’ worried, real worried. I don’t wanna see you hurt either.”
“I’m not going to need that key, Kitty, and with the Lord’s blessing and your help, I’ll be the one walking out of here in one piece. You should get back to the bar. If they are coming, they’ll be here pretty soon, but one last thing. If anything happens, don’t come back up here for a while. Let the marshal handle it all. Promise me.”
“You can count on me, father, and good luck, and I’ll be prayin’. It’s not somethin’ I do often, but I will be,” and impulsively giving him a peck on the cheek, she turned and hurried awa
y.
Walking across to the window, he moved the curtain aside just enough to watch the street, but he didn’t see any purposeful-looking groups of men walking toward the saloon. McGill’s attempt to snatch him from the cabin had been clumsy, but Tucker wasn’t about to underestimate the ruthless criminal. If Kenny Bragg had passed on the information, the murderous thugs would show. It would probably leak out that the priest was in the saloon, but it would take more than a few minutes to get word to Patrick, and noon was fast approaching.
Then he saw them; two tough-looking men crossing the street heading directly for Kitty’s, and three other men on their way from down the block. Five men, that seemed right, and the way they were marching told him they were men with a mission.
Removing the sash from around his waist, he tied one end to the leg of the dresser against the wall next to the door, and pulling it taut, he knotted the other end to the steel frame of the bed. It sat about eighteen inches off the floor, and was set back far enough for the door to open. Satisfied, he moved back to the window, pulled aside both curtains, and opened it as wide as it would go. The scene was set.
Pulling his pistol from where he’d stuffed it under his robe into the waist of his trousers, he climbed onto the bed and leaned against the wall. When he heard the pounding of feet as the men marched down the hallway, his pulse ticked up, and every nerve in his body began sparking. It would be over fast, and while he excelled at what he did, there were no guarantees he’d walk away.
“Father O’Brien?” Kitty called, then knocked three times, “you have visitors. Are you alone?”
His mind raced. Three. What about the other two he seen? He had to assume he’d been right. After what happened at the cabin, McGill wouldn’t have sent only three gunmen. A moment later she knocked again, but this time only twice. He’d been right. The two extra men were nearby.
“Yes, I’m alone,” he called back. “Come on in, the door’s unlocked.”
A brief second later, two men, guns blazing, burst into the room, but instantly fell over the trip cord. Tucker’s gun fired with deadly aim, shooting them as they tumbled to the floor. The third man, still standing in the doorway, let out a wail of shock, but it was short-lived. Tucker jumped off the bed, swung his body around the door, and fired two quick shots. The man flew backwards and fell dead on the floor in the hallway.
All three men were finished, but Tucker knew their friends would be only moments away. Swiftly returning to hide behind the open door, moments later he heard footsteps. Staring through the crack in the door jamb, he was surprised to see the same two young glory-hunters who had been at the cabin.
“Dang it, Brody!” one of them exclaimed, staring at the dead man in the hall. “I’m gettin’ outta here!”
“Are you loco? If we go back with nothin’ to say, Patrick, he’ll be mad enough to swallow a horn toad backwards. Jed, you know we gotta check the room. Maybe the priest was shot too! Now, come on!”
Tucker’s eyes watched them as they nervously started forward, and cautiously stepped over their fallen cohort. As they stared into the room, taking in the sight of the other two gunmen lying dead on the floor, they stood completely still.
“How’d he do that?” Brody muttered, his voice thin. “How’d he shoot all three of ‘em?”
“Dunno,” his friend mumbled, “but hey, the window, look. He must’ve skedaddled outta the window.”
“Climbed onto the roof, you reckon?”
“Yeah, must’ve.”
“We’d better go check.”
“You go,” Jed exclaimed. “I’m stayin’ put!”
“Who is this dang priest?” Brody grumbled. “It’s like he’s… I dunno… not real or somethin’.”
“You ain’t wrong there,” Jed mumbled. “I don’t like it. I’m gettin’ the willies.”
“We’d best go take a gander.”
“You go! Like I said, I’m stayin’ put.”
“The hell you are!” Brody exclaimed, grabbing his friend by the arm and shoving him forward.
“Okay!” Jed snapped. “He’s gone anyways. We’d both be dead if he wasn’t.”
They walked slowly inside and moving cautiously around the bodies, they headed across to the window. As they both leaned out, Tucker ducked around the door and darted into the room across the hall, locking the door behind him. He was surprised no busybodies had appeared, and wondered if Kitty was purposely keeping everyone at bay, but as he pulled off his robe he could hear footsteps and the sound of conversation; the commotion was about to begin.
Making up the fake bedroll, he tucked it under his arm, then rested his ear against the door listening for Kitty. There was a lot of chattering, but the voices were all male; she’d kept her promise. Opening the door, he quietly slipped from the room. No one even turned to look at him, and as he headed past the crowd, he became just one of a dozen men who had raced up to see what had happened.
“If you see that priest, make sure you let the marshal know,” he heard someone declare.
“The McGills are gonna be off their nut. That priest is the walkin’ dead,” another exclaimed.
As he made his way down the stairs, he passed others on their way up, and then he saw Kenny Bragg hurrying across the saloon. The man looked deeply troubled. Was he starting to realize he might have picked the wrong side? Tucker continued on, but once outside he paused to take a long deep breath, then headed for Sam’s Mercantile.
“Howdy,” Sam said as Tucker walked into his store. “I’m surprised you’re back so fast.”
“Howdy, Sam. I’ll be headin’ off now, but I’ll be back in a little while.”
“I’ll not goin’ any place,” Sam assured him. “Do ya have any idea what happened at Kitty’s? Seemed to be a bit of a ruckus goin’ on.”
“I guess a few of the McGill boys ate some lead,” Tucker grinned.
“That right?” Sam grinned back. “You wouldn’t know any details by chance?”
“Me? Nope, not me, and you can lock up your back door now. I won’t be needin’ it, at least not for a bit. I’ll see ya later.”
“Yep,” Sam said with a knowing chuckle. “I’ll see ya later.”
Tucker left the store and headed over to the livery stable; he was breathing easier. The storeroom had been his backup if he’d needed a quick hiding place. Things could go wrong in a heartbeat, and he always did his best to have a safety net. As he took the horse from the surprised stable owner, he insisted the man keep the full amount he’d paid. He knew Frank was paying protection money to the McGill gang and could use the extra cash.
“Mighty obliged,” Frank said gratefully.
“I’ll be seein’ you again soon,” Tucker nodded, and climbing into the saddle, he started out of town and headed up to Duke’s house.
The fight had officially begun. He’d won the first two rounds handily, there would be a third very shortly, but just how many rounds would there be? And would he survive them all?
Chapter Fifteen
Dolly was reclining on the white and gold chaise lounge in the back parlor enjoying her needlework. The windows overlooked the home’s landscaped grounds, and in the distance, the mountain range that loomed over the valley. During the winter, when they were covered in a gigantic white blanket, she thought them at their most beautiful, and in the spring, when the snow melted and rugged peaks began to appear, she saw the jagged edges and sharp shadows as dramatic and exciting. The mountains were always changing, and there was an unfathomable infinity about them that captured her imagination.
The parlor was her special place, and her favorite room in which to do her needlepoint. The town could not be seen, and between her rows of stitching, she would gaze up at the majestic peaks and forget about the difficult days. She’d started working on her latest project shortly after Tucker had hugged her goodbye and left for Kitty’s. She was worried about him, and the needlepoint helped to calm her. After completing a particularly challenging area, she laid the linen and needle o
n her lap and closed her eyes. They became tired if she stitched too long, and she could feel the beginning of the irritation.
“Dolly!”
It was Tucker’s voice, and turning around, she saw him striding toward her. Her heart leapt in her chest and she jumped up to greet him.
“Tucker! I’m so glad you’re back. How did everything go? I haven’t stopped thinking about you for a single minute.”
“Everything went great,” he grinned, putting his hands on her waist and lifting her up.
She squealed with delight, and as he placed her gently back on her feet, he grabbed her long red hair, wrapped the ringlets around his hand, and gripping them tightly, he pressed his lips against hers. The blood raced through her veins, and when his free hand visited her breast and gently squeezed, she moaned her muffled pleasure, but he didn’t stop there. His kiss grew more fervent as his fingers began unbuttoning the front of her bodice, and as his palm touched her skin under the silk undergarment and he traveled his lips to her neck, a sparking fire surged through her body.
“Please, please, lay me down,” she whispered. “Lay me down and do whatever you wish.”
He swept her up, walked the few feet to the chaise, and gently placing her on the soft cushions, he kneeled at her side and continued undressing her.
“I cannot wait to see all of you,” he murmured, “to kiss all of you, to move my tongue over all of you.”
“Tucker, I want you so much,” she mumbled. “Please don’t stop, don’t ever stop.”
He was moving his mouth against her chest, and she sucked in the air as she arched her back, lifting her breasts to meet his attention.
“Dolly, Dolly.”
“Yes?”
“Dolly, Dolly.”
He was shaking her shoulder, and bewildered, she fought her way through a strange kind of darkness, then opening her eyes, she found herself looking up at her father.
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