Crocker’s eyes narrowed to two dark slits. “Why, you son of a bitch, I might have to teach you a lesson before this day is over.”
“But I expect you’ll have to shoot me first, won’t you, asshole?”
The thought of the two oversized men squaring off against each other amused Burdette. It might be entertaining at that. He’d never seen a man stand up to Crocker. “What about it, Big John?” he asked. “You wanna have a little go-round with this big mouth?”
Grinning wickedly, Crocker replied, “I’d love to.”
“All right,” Burdette said. “Go to it, but make it quick. We need to get outta here.”
“It won’t take long,” Big John said, and stepped toward Jug.
“Hold on a minute till we get them pouches,” Burdette said. “Blackie, help the lady on her horse. Then pick them pouches up and tie ’em on behind her.” Then, addressing Cullen and Cody, he ordered, “You two back away from them guns.”
“All right, Burdette,” Blackie replied, “but tell Big John to wait till I’m done. I don’t wanna miss the fight.”
“Make it quick,” Burdette ordered, then raised his pistol to aim at Cullen, preparing to finish him and Cody. Before he pulled the trigger, though, he had another thought. “I believe I’ll let you two watch Big John break your brother’s back before I send you to hell.” He laughed at the prospect. “But don’t get no funny ideas,” he added, “’cause I’ll just shoot you down where you stand.”
Certain that Jug was doing all he could to delay their executions, Cullen felt his mind racing through his options. There were none. He glanced at Roberta, who had no choice but to do as she was ordered. She seemed to be taking the threat stoically, but he could imagine the fear and panic raging inside her as she allowed Blackie to lead her to her horse. It seemed evident that she was in a state of shock after having come so close to saving her aunt. In the short time he had known her, however, he had learned that she was not the kind of woman to weep and faint away, and he had to battle the reckless urge he felt to go to her, knowing that would destroy her chances of rescue completely. He glanced then at Cody and saw the look of quiet determination in his eye. They were of the same accord, and that was not to go down without a fight.
There was a short standoff between the outlaws and the brothers, while they waited for Blackie’s return. The blatant pleasure in Burdette’s eyes told of the enjoyment he anticipated in the execution of the three brothers. After a few minutes’ time, Blackie hurried back after readying their horses to leave, with Roberta seated on her horse and the gold sacks secured behind her. Cullen tried to signal Roberta with his eyes to make a run for it, but Blackie had evidently considered that possibility and held on to her reins. She met Cullen’s gaze and her eyes seemed to reach out to him in helpless surrender to her fate. He felt his heart about to break. “Stomp his ass,” Blackie said gleefully, ready to watch the match.
Crocker grinned maliciously as the two huge men circled, watching and warily anticipating the first to make a move. Unable to wait a second longer, Crocker finally attacked, launching himself into Jug’s midsection, driving him several feet backward, but failing to knock him off his feet. Surprised to find him still standing, Crocker took a step back, blinked a couple of times, then hunkered down to make another bull-like charge at his confidently grinning adversary. This time Jug was ready for him, and deftly stepped aside to avoid his charge, slamming him with a solid right hand to the side of his face. The blow sent the infuriated giant to his knees. Jug walked around him, and before he could get back on his feet, Jug launched another haymaker that flattened Crocker’s nose and sent him down on his back. Like a great cat, Jug was immediately upon him, clamping his neck in a headlock and tightening down. It was no contest. Jug was making quick work of it and Crocker knew it. “Shoot him!” he gasped in desperation, fearing that his neck was about to be broken. When he bellowed his frantic plea, both Cullen and Cody dived for the pistols they had dropped on the ground. It was not in time to prevent Burdette from pulling the trigger and firing a slug into Jug’s side. A half second later, Cullen recovered his revolver and shot at Burdette. With really no time to take aim, his shot went wide and only grazed Burdette’s shoulder, but it was enough to cause the outlaw to retreat.
While Cullen rolled over the edge of the stream bank, firing now at Crocker, Cody sent a bullet Blackie’s way before following Cullen for cover under the lip of the bank. The shot struck Blackie in the chest, and the startled man sat down hard on the ground to stare down at the wound in disbelief, still holding on to Roberta’s reins. The gun battle that followed was of short duration, lasting no more than three or four minutes before Burdette grabbed Roberta’s reins from Blackie’s hand and withdrew to take cover in the narrow passage entrance, with Crocker close behind with his and Blackie’s horses. In that brief period of time, however, a lot of lead flew, most of it from the outlaws in an effort to keep Cody and Cullen pinned down in the stream.
When the firing finally ceased, Cullen tried to assess the damage to his brothers. Ignoring the burning in his side from the bullet that had creased him, he looked at Cody, who was holding his hand over a bloody shoulder. Cody yelled that he was okay. Cullen nodded, then crawled over to the edge of the stream and made his way to Jug, who had not moved since being hit in the side. The big man was alive, but only barely. His shirt was drenched with blood that continued to seep through the fingers of his hand as he pressed it tightly over the wound. “Just sit tight,” Cullen told him. “Try not to move too much. You might cause it to bleed more. As soon as I make sure they’ve gone, I’ll be back and Cody and I will help you on your horse and get you home. All right?”
Jug nodded weakly.
It was not going to be that easy. He was pretty sure the two he heard called Burdette and Big John had fled, taking Roberta and the gold with them. But his and his brothers’ horses were scattered, all of them having bolted toward the back door of Gabe’s camp. His concern was for his brother. Jug’s wound seemed to be serious. He wasn’t sure about Cody’s, in spite of his younger brother’s reassurance. He would take care of his brothers, but of equal concern was Roberta’s fate, and this brought a feeling of helplessness on his part for not being able to pursue her captors at once. I’ll come for you as soon as I can, he silently promised, and tried not to dwell upon her possible treatment at the hands of her abductors.
He looked back to see Cody crawling cautiously over the bank, relieved to see he appeared to still have his strength as he moved toward Jug. “Keep your gun handy till I make sure they’ve gone,” he called. “Then I’ll try to round up the horses.” He hurried to the edge of the clearing just before the entrance to the gulch, and peered around the rock column. They were nowhere in sight for as far as he could see before the gulch took another turn. Wasting no time, he immediately turned then and ran toward the back of the clearing after the horses. “They’re gone!” he yelled to Cody as he ran.
Having scattered initially, the horses came back together to stand in a small meadow a few hundred yards above the camp. With Cody’s help, he collected all three, plus the packhorse, and led them back to the clearing. The question to be answered next was how to transport Jug. It was going to prove extremely painful to put him on a horse. A travois would be best, but the narrow walls of the gulch in many places prohibited its use. “Hell,” Jug gasped, “just get me up on my horse. I’ll make it somehow. I don’t wanna die in this damn hole.” So they managed to lift him into the saddle, a task not easily accomplished owing to the bulk of their brother. After he was safely aboard, he immediately lay forward, grasping his horse around the neck. With the feeling that time was critical, they started back down the gulch at once, leaving the clearing to be guarded by the wide-eyed corpse of Blackie Cruz, still seated upright and staring down at the hole in his chest.
In spite of their urgency, the ride back down the gulch was painfully slow with Jug threatening to fall from the saddle even at that pace. Leaving Cody to
help Jug stay on his horse, Cullen rode a few dozen yards ahead to make sure they weren’t riding into an ambush. But it was soon obvious that Burdette and Big John were more interested in hightailing it, probably figuring the McCloud brothers were too shot up to follow, but still too dangerous to risk exchanging more shots.
It was already getting late in the day by the time they rode out of the gulch into Blodgett Canyon again. It was getting more and more difficult to keep Jug upright on his horse, and finally Cullen decided there was no choice but to stop and let him rest. In the meantime, he told Cody they could fashion a travois to carry him the rest of the way, since they were out of the narrow gulch. “We might as well camp here all night,” Cullen said, although reluctant to make the decision. It was difficult to bear the thought that the delay would only put Roberta farther and farther away, but he had to think of Jug. “If we try to take him out in the dark, we’re liable to break a horse’s leg or dump him in the creek,” he said.
Cody agreed. He was feeling considerable pain in his shoulder by then as his arm stiffened, and he was inclined to take the time to tend to all their wounds.
The image of Roberta, looking confused and afraid, returned to Cullen’s thoughts as he helped Cody look for wood for a fire, and he fought the desperate feeling of urgency to find her. When they had seen Jug settled as comfortably as possible, and had done what they could to stop the bleeding, Cullen then took a look at Cody’s wound. “That doesn’t look any too good, either,” he said after cleaning some of the blood away. “Looks like the bullet’s still in there, ’cause there ain’t no hole in the back. I could dig around in there and try to get it out, but it might be best, and easier on you, to wait and let Smoke get it outta there. We oughta be able to get back home by tomorrow afternoon early.”
“That suits me,” Cody said, thinking that there was whiskey available at home to help with the pain of Smoke’s probing. His arm was already stiffening to the point of feeling like a useless ham hanging from his shoulder. Then he nodded toward Cullen’s bloodstained shirt and asked, “What about that wound in your side?”
Cullen glanced down at his side as if just then remembering it. “It ain’t anythin’,” he said, surprised by the size of the bloodstain on his shirt. “Just grazed me. I’ve been hurt worse shavin’. What was Jug talkin’ about back there? Do you two know those men?”
“We had a little run-in with ’em at Mule Sibley’s place. They got a little rough with Brenda and her mother. I wish to hell we’d shot ’em.” Cody studied his brother’s face for a few moments before asking, “You thinkin’ ’bout Roberta?” Cullen nodded solemnly. “Me, too,” Cody said. “You think they’ll kill her?”
Cullen shook his head slowly, reluctant to admit the possibility. “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “If they had any notion to kill her right away, I expect we’d have already found her. Most likely they’ll keep her for a while.” He hesitated before finishing the statement, but finally added, “Until they’re through with her.” He didn’t like the mental picture that suggested. He had known Roberta Morris for only a brief couple of days, but he had sensed an attraction between them. She had caused him to start thinking about things he had never felt before. Even if he was mistaken about the special connection between them, he could not bear the thought of the woman being abused by the likes of the two men who had abducted her.
Cody could read his brother well. “Go get her. The quicker you find her, the better off she’ll be,” he said. “I know you’re worried about Jug and me, but I can get Jug home all right if you wanna get on their trail before it gets cold.” He immediately saw the spark in Cullen’s eye in reaction to his suggestion.
“Are you sure you can make it back all right?” Cullen replied. “Jug’s wound looks pretty bad.”
“Well, it ain’t gonna make no difference whether you’re with us or not. If you’ll build that travois, I can sure as hell do the rest.” He didn’t need a spoken answer; he could read it in Cullen’s eyes. “Let’s take a look at those tracks while we’ve still got some light. It’d help a helluva lot if we can find somethin’ unusual about ’em to help you know you’re followin’ the right trail.”
Lady Luck favored them in this regard, for after a careful examination of the outlaws’ tracks along a sandy stretch of creek bank, Cody discovered a signature for one of the horses. “Here you go!” he called out, and when Cullen hurried over to see, he pointed to one particularly clear print. “One of their horses has got a twisted shoe,” he said. “See that, how that one doesn’t look like it lines up on the hoof like it should? That’s because whoever did the shoein’ didn’t do a good job. That’s gonna be a loose shoe before long.” He stood aside while Cullen took careful note of the print.
“I believe you’re right,” Cullen agreed. “It is twisted—kinda hard to tell, but it’s sure as hell twisted.” He felt confident then that he could follow Roberta’s abductors as long as he didn’t let them get too great a head start.
As darkness settled upon the narrow canyon, Cullen finished the construction of a simple travois for Jug while Cody tried to see if his wounded brother could eat anything. It proved to be a fruitless endeavor, causing Cody to remark that it was the first time ever that Jug could not eat, indicating to him and Cullen that Jug’s wound was serious indeed. “I’ve got to get him home quick,” a worried Cody opined. “Maybe I oughta try to take him to the doctor in Stevensville.”
“You’d best take him home,” Cullen said. “It’d take too long to take him to Stevensville. Smoke’ll know what to do.” Smoke had probably as much experience treating bullet wounds as the doctor in Stevensville. It was settled then and their decision made more sense when Jug seemed a bit better the following morning, although he still wanted nothing more than coffee for breakfast. They lifted him onto the travois and started out of the canyon. When they reached the valley, they paused briefly while Cody and Cullen scouted the outlaws’ tracks, which turned north, leading down the valley. Torn between the welfare of his brother and the urgency to rescue Roberta, Cullen hesitated. His father’s ranch was also north of this point, but in a direction northeast of the trail left by the outlaws. It was only after Cody’s reassurance that he could see Jug safely home that he bade them good-bye, and started up the Bitterroot Valley in pursuit of Burdette and Crocker with a resolve to rescue Roberta while Cody veered off toward the M Bar C.
Chapter 4
There had been no consideration for sparing the horses since fleeing the steep-walled canyon. With Burdette leading and Roberta’s horse between his and Crocker’s, and Blackie’s horse trailing, they had not stopped, even when reaching the valley a short time before dark. Turning north, Burdette continued on another four or five miles before picking a place to make camp. Guiding his horse along the bank of the Bitterroot River, he selected a small clearing on the west side lined with ponderosa pines. “I reckon this is as good a spot as any,” he announced when Crocker and Roberta caught up to him. “Does it suit you, sweetheart?” he asked with an exaggerated lascivious grin. Roberta ignored the question.
“Well, it damn sure suits me,” Crocker remarked. “I didn’t think you was ever gonna stop. Them fellers back there ain’t likely comin’ after us, anyway. They’re too bad shot up—and their horses was scattered up the mountain.” He dismounted and paused to take Roberta’s reins. “Too bad about ol’ Blackie, though.”
“You should have finished them off when you had the chance,” Roberta stated coldly. “But you had to have that childish fight. Now we have to worry about somebody chasing us. I don’t trust those brothers. If they’re not hurt as bad as you think, they’ll be coming after us.”
Her tone was one of extreme annoyance. Burdette cringed from her scolding and sought to placate her. “Don’t worry about them boys, honey. I’m bettin’ they’ve had all the taste of lead they want, and it’ll soon be too dark to cut our trail. Besides, if they do come after us, me and Crocker will take care of ’em for sure.”
“I know that, Roberta,” Burdette replied, getting a little bit testy from the scolding. “You done told me twice, damn it, but you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about from them fellers as long as me and Big John are with you.” He had been led to believe that there was more promised to him than a share of ol’ Gabe’s dust, but the sweetness in her tone seemed to have disappeared. This sudden coolness in her attitude had never surfaced during the ride from Fort Missoula to Stevensville the week before. This was the first real glimpse of the temper that lay close beneath her sugary surface.
Thunder Over Lolo Pass Page 6