by Ralph Cotton
“Then we must…we must…” The lieutenant stammered, then stalled. “What must we do, Sergeant?”
Sergeant Baines pulled his holster open, snatched his pistol, and jammed it into the lieutenant’s gloved hand. “We must fight, sir. Or we will die here.”
* * *
Above the melee, around a higher turn in the rock land, the old man and the two women had felt the wagon quake and rattle with the hard jar of the explosion. Without stopping, Dirkson settled the spooked mules and slapped the reins to them, the wagon rocking and bouncing along the rough, narrow trail. “The major will be joining us real soon,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. For a moment, the rifle fire ceased.
“I think you are mistaken,” said Maria, looking back as well. Then she looked into the old man’s weathered face, adding, “That explosion was too high up in the trail. Something went wrong. I think the pass is now blocked.”
Old man Dirkson chuckled, but there was a slight nervousness to it. “You don’t know the major, ma’am. Those kind of mistakes never happen.”
Maria only nodded, recalling the glimpse she’d caught of the face above the ridge line. It was time she made a move. She glanced at Prudence Cordell, letting Prudence see her eyes gesture toward her boot. Prudence nodded; she understood. “So you think the major will let us go pretty soon?” she asked, just to draw the old man’s attention while Maria made a move for the small pistol in her boot well.
“Well,” old man Dirkson said, “I think if everything has gone as planned…”
His words trailed off as the Parker brothers, along with Delbert and McCord, moved their horses up into sight on the trail before them with their rifles raised and aimed. “Hold it right there, old man,” Peyton Parker said, a dark smile on his face. “You look a little tired. We’ll just take this load over from here.”
Not now…Maria eased her tied hands away from her boot well and sat watching them. Prudence Cordell’s hand drifted down from under her arm.
“The hell are you doing, Parker?” Old man Dirkson rose halfway from his seat, the reins hanging in his hand. “Bowes told you to keep watch on top of that—”
Payton Parker’s rifle bucked in a spurt of fire. Dirkson flipped backward over the seat, bounced off an ammunition crate, and rolled to the ground while the echo of the shot resounded along a steep upthrust of boulders. “Now then, business aside, ladies,” Payton said as his brother Leo grabbed the mules’ harness to keep them from bolting forward, “we’ll be traveling together a long ways over some rough ground…might as well get to know one another, don’t you think?” His eyes moved across Prudence’s torn dress, then settled on Maria.
“If you touch either of us, I will kill you,” Maria said, her voice hard with resolve. Delbert and McCord laughed; but Payton Parker was taken aback at the level of conviction he saw in her eyes. He managed a tight smile. “Well now, excuse me. But I supposed you young ladies might welcome a change from that ole buzzard.” He nodded toward Dirkson on the ground, his blood turning to a dark paste on his dusty chest.
“We better go ahead and kill ’em, Payton, while we got the chance. Women are bad luck on a deal like this.” McCord rose in his stirrups, his rifle ready to level on Maria. She felt her hands drift instinctively toward her boot.
“Ease up, McCord,” said Delbert. It might be bad luck having women along, but it’s worse luck to kill one.”
“Where’d you ever hear that? Payton wanted to shoot them both the other night. I say it would’ve been best all around.” McCord let the rifle ease down in his hands. Maria let her hands creep up from near her boot. Behind them, around the distant turn in the trail, the sound of rifle fire started up again.
“Shut up, both of yas!” Payton Parker stepped his horse away from the wagon, facing the two riders. “I’ve changed my mind. We’re keeping them with us till we get to old Mex. If they’re good enough for Zell, they’re good enough for us. Only difference is, we ain’t letting them go once we get there.” He turned and grinned at Prudence Cordell. “I know a couple ole padrons who’d give all the gold in their teeth to own themselves a couple of honeys like these…especially if one of ’em is Miss Prudence Vanderman.”
“What will Zell do, once he catches up to you?” Maria asked, but only to try to find out what had happened on the trail below.
“I don’t think the ole major is going to be catching up to us for a long, long time.” Payton Parker smiled again. “He’s got half a mountainside twix us and him right now…and a few Union soldiers to boot.”
“Then the pass was closed by the explosion?” Maria looked confused, hoping to find out anything she could.
Payton gestured for Delbert to step over and take the reins to the wagon. “What’s it to you, ma’am? You’ve got no place else to be right now.”
Delbert settled onto the wooden seat and chuckled. “Maybe she’s just one of those kind of people who enjoy discussing current events.” He grinned across broken teeth. “Now that I’m here, you gals feel free to discuss whatever comes to mind.”
Payton took the reins to Delbert’s horse. “Pay no attention to him, ladies. Pretty women gets Delbert’s blood racing, and it all leaves his head—if you get my drift.” He winked and pulled back from the wagon.
Delbert slapped the reins to the mules, and the wagon pulled forward with a jolt. Prudence Cordell leaned slightly to the side and looked back at the old man’s body lying limp and still on the rocky ground. When she turned, she saw Maria’s dark eyes looking at her. “Be ready when we get to the flatland,” Maria whispered beneath the creak of wagon and the strain of leather tracing. Prudence Cordell only nodded, knowing that both of them saw the same thing in these four men. For now, these men were joking, teasing, posturing like schoolboys. But their manner could turn ugly in the quickness of a breath.
As soon as the wagon had ambled upward and out of sight in a stirring wake of dust, the two young soldiers who’d waited on the mountainside for Sergeant Baines came staggering forward, their rifles hanging from their hands. “Lord have mercy,” one said through his labored breath, stopping to look down at the old man’s body. “Maybe we should have stayed put like the sergeant said.”
The other soldier lifted his dusty hat brim and ran a hand across his sweaty brow. “Damn it, Elerby. He didn’t mean for us to stay there whilst they blew the whole mountain out from under us.” From the rocky slope behind them, rifle fire swelled above the screams of dying men and horses. He bent down and rolled the old man’s head to one side then the other. “Suppose this one was a hostage too?”
“I don’t know. But he must not be one of the bandits, or they wouldn’t have shot him, huh?”
“Reckon him and the women were getting away?”
“Beats me.” Dubbs, who had bent down, jerked his hand back when a groan escaped from the old man’s lips. “Jesus, Elerby! He’s still alive!” He jerked back from the body as if seeing the old man risen from death.
“He is?” Elerby took a cautious step closer, reaching out with his rifle at arms length and tapping the barrel against the old man’s shoulder.
Old man Dirkson’s eyes flickered, then drifted across them and closed again. “Help, me…” he gasped.
The two young soldiers stared at one another wide-eyed, their mouths gaping. Then Elerby shook his head as if to get it working again. “I think we better get out of here, Dubbs.”
“We can’t leave him—he’s still alive!” Dubbs bent down slowly, cocking his head in curiosity, looking at the bullet hole in the old man’s chest. “I never seen nothing like this close up. Give me your canteen. Let’s see if he’ll drink.”
“What’s wrong with your canteen?” Elerby took a half step back, his hand shielding the canteen at his waist.
“Nothing.” Dubbs leaned over and propped the old man’s dusty head up on his knee. “You said you’d do like I told you to…so give it here. He ain’t diseased, he’s just shot, for God sakes.”
“Help, me…�
�� Dirkson’s voice rattled low and weak from deep inside the bleeding chest. His hand rose slightly, then fell back in the dirt.
“All right then…here.” Elerby winced and handed his canteen to Dubbs. “What’re we gonna do with him if he lives? We’re cut off up here. There’s no telling who’s gonna win that fracas back there.” Rifle fire still rolled along the edge of the rocky slope.
“I don’t know what we’ll do. Get him out of the sun, I reckon. Take cover till we see what’s what.” He poured a trickle of water into Dirkson’s mouth. It went down, then part of it surged back up in a racking cough. “Easy now,” he said, taking the canteen from Dirkson’s lips.
The drifting eyes came to rest on Dubbs’s face as the old man settled and finally breathed a steady breath. “Who…are you?” His voice was broken and weak.
“We’re soldiers with the United States Army,” Dubbs said, reaching up with his free hand, taking the yellow bandanna from around his neck, and wiping it across the old man’s forehead. “You just take it slow and easy…we’re not gonna let them do nothing else to you. You’re under our protection now.”
“Soldiers, huh?” Dirkson’s eyes drifted across the two of them as Elerby moved in closer.
“Yes, sir. We’re at your service,” Elerby said, eying his canteen, seeing the fresh streak of blood on it.
Old man Dirkson coughed again, a deep, racking spasm, and let himself slump on Dubbs’s knee. “That…figures,” he said.
Chapter 9
Willis Durant had made it a point to ride out of town in the opposite direction the Ranger had taken. He would hit the higher rocky terrain where his tracks would be harder to follow. There was a hidden trail up there where he could cut back and catch up to the Ranger. He’d used it many times in the past, back when a posse had been on his heels. He hoped this would be the last time he had to use it—the last time he had to look over his shoulder to see if the law was gaining on him.
It was ironic that he should be out here now, after settling down and putting this life behind him. Riding the outlaw trail was no kind of life. He’d come to realize that years ago. But there was no point in dwelling on his circumstance. Last year his past had come back to haunt him, the day the Parker brothers rode into his front yard. He’d needed money and had done one small job with them. But that was all it took to reopen doors he’d closed years ago. One small mistake, and this is where it had brought him.
He checked the big stallion at the top of a rocky pass and gazed back on the flatlands below him. Well, no matter, he thought, his dark eyes moving along the horizon across the miles of sand and scrub mesquite brush. Nothing was going to keep him from setting things right with the Parkers. After that, it made little difference to him if he lived or died. There was no sign of Tackett and a posse. Not yet. But he knew they would be coming. Turning the big grule back to the narrow rocky trail, he gave it heel and pushed forward.
By nightfall he’d covered the long stretch across the high rocky land and brought his horse onto the trail the Ranger had taken. The Ranger had a good head start on him, but tonight he would close the gap between them. Durant wouldn’t stop to rest. He would walk and lead the horse, resting it as much as possible. As for himself, he needed no rest. All he needed was to finish the job he’d set out to do. Come morning, he would spot the Ranger and stay away from him until he found a way to take him by surprise.
He didn’t want to kill the Ranger; he only wanted to get the drop on him, long enough to make the man listen to reason. Their interests were now the same. The Ranger wanted the woman back alive, and Durant wanted his revenge. Surely, the two of them could work together.
As first light streaked gray and grainy in the east, Durant came upon the Ranger’s tracks and followed them upward off the flatlands and into a clearing among a stretch of towering rocks. When he saw where the trail was leading, Durant backed off, staying shy of the clearing and easing his horse into the rocks above it. He got out of his saddle and looked down at the campsite below from within the cover of rocks.
The Ranger was no fool. Durant wasn’t about to underestimate the man. He watched for a full ten minutes until satisfied that the campsite was safe to enter. This was the Ranger’s trail, but evidently the Ranger had taken an earlier start. He would descend into the abandoned campsite, pick up the Ranger’s tracks, and follow them. He walked down, leading the horse by its reins.
But the Ranger had heard the soft clop of hooves a half hour before, coming up the trail. He’d hurried and cleared the campsite and moved his horses off into cover. Then he’d taken cover himself. He waited. And now his patience had paid off. He watched Durant move past him on the narrow trail into the campsite. Then, breaking the deep silence of the land, the Ranger rose up in a dark shadow of rock and said in a level tone, “Over here, Durant. Take it nice and easy.”
Durant’s first instinct was to turn, drawing the pistol from his waist. But when he did so, he saw no sign of the Ranger, only the dark morning shadows between a split in a wall of rock. “This isn’t what it looks like, Ranger,” Durant said, his eyes searching. “I wasn’t hunting you to kill you. If I had been, you’d never known it. I came to join you. You need my help whether you know it or not.” He waited for an answer, scanning the dark shadows in the rocks. “Well, what’s your answer?”
From out of nowhere a pair of handcuffs flashed in the morning light and landed at his feet. He spun, looking around. “Put them on Durant…you’re under arrest.”
“For Christ sakes, man!” Durant looked around again. A shot resounded from within a dark shadow. Durant saw the muzzle flash. A bullet thumped into the hard ground between his boots. “Next shot’s going to hit about waist high,” the Ranger said. “Drop the pistol. Pick up the cuffs and put them on.”
Durant knew where to shoot into that blackened crevice now. But he didn’t want to. He bent down, still staring into the sliver of darkness, laid his pistol in the dirt, and picked up the cuffs. He straightened up and snapped one on his wrist, then the other. Holding up his cuffed hands, he called out, “There, damn it. I’m cuffed. If I wasn’t here to join you, there’s no way I would have stood here and done this.” He jiggled the cuffs. “I would have died first.”
“It’s not too late yet if you make a wrong move.” The Ranger stepped out of the darkness as if appearing out of thin air. “I’m getting tired of seeing you on the long end of my rifle, Durant. How’d you pull it off? Is Tackett all right?”
“I had to crack his jaw for him. But he’ll mend. He was too hardheaded to get in a cell.”
“Can you blame him?”
“Naw, I suppose not.” Durant let out a breath. “I didn’t want to hit him though. I had no choice. Donahue and his boys were stoked up and headed for the jail right then.”
The Ranger stepped in closer, looked at the cuffs on Durant’s wrists, then picked up Tackett’s pistol without taking his eyes off the man. “So you took his Navy Colt, I see.” He turned it in his hand and wiped it on his shirt. “He won’t forget this.”
“I know.” Durant slumped with his cuffed hands dangling before him. “But I had to catch up to you, Ranger. Can’t you understand?”
“I understand this,” the Ranger said, circling behind him, taking him by the collar and pulling him backward toward his horse. “If you meant to go with me, I reckon you succeeded. There’s no time to take you back to town. But as soon as Tackett catches up, you’re his prisoner.”
“Then let’s get on the trail,” Durant said, his dark eyes unwavering as he stared at the Ranger.
The Ranger held the reins to Durant’s horse as Durant stepped up onto the saddle. “Make no mistake, Durant. You get in my way while I’m hunting these men, I’ll kill you graveyard dead. Fair enough?”
Durant settled in his saddle, his cuffed wrists resting on the saddle horn. “Fair enough,” he said. “All I want is to catch up with Martin Zell and kill the men who murdered my family. After that, I’m ready for whatever follows.”
<
br /> The Ranger stood for a moment, looking up at him in the morning sunlight. “You really are convinced this is Zell’s cavalry.”
“I’m betting my life on it,” Durant said.
“That you are.” The Ranger thought for a second. He’d never met a man more sure of anything. If Durant was right, and he knew where these men were going, the Ranger needed his help. But if Durant was lying, if this was a trick of some sort…well, he’d know soon enough.
They moved on steadily, without stopping, the Ranger in the lead with Durant behind him, his horse on the short lead rope with the Ranger’s spare horse. By noon they had reached the far northern end of the high pass that would zigzag south over rocky land until it took them above the stretch of sandy badlands leading to the border. When they’d stepped down to rest the horses out of the searing sunlight in the shade of an upthrust of jagged rock, the Ranger looked out and down at the narrow switchback trails below them. In the distance where the flatland rolled out of sight on the earth’s curve, a drifting rise of dust stood slantwise and high in the air. They were getting close.
“If there’s anything else you need to tell me about what happened to your family, now’s the time to get it said, Durant.”
Behind him, Durant had dropped down onto a rock and ran his cuffed hands across his dusty face. “What do you mean? I told you everything.”
“Everything except why these Parker brothers were at your place to begin with.”
“I told you. I knew them from the old days.” His voice sounded tight and closed, the way it had when the Ranger mentioned his family the day he’d taken him prisoner.
“There’s more to it, Durant. There always is.” The Ranger continued to gaze out across the heated land below.
A silence passed, then he finally heard Durant say in a hollow tone behind him, “Okay, Ranger. You want it all? Here it is. Leo Parker came to me. Said him and his brother had a way to make some quick money rounding horses down below the border. But they needed a third man, a wrangler. I was broke and took the job.”