Blood Feud

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Blood Feud Page 12

by David Robbins


  Chace lost track of time and where he was. The position of the sun showed he was heading southwest. Not the direction he wanted but it would have to do.

  When next he looked over his shoulder, all save two had fallen behind. One was Deputy Nick Fulsome. The other was a townsman, by his clothes, but a damn good rider.

  Chace reined to avoid a tree. So far Enoch was holding his own. Mules generally didn’t tire as easily as horses so if he could stay ahead long enough the horses would play out.

  Out of nowhere a steep slope unfolded below him. Chace started down much too fast. Enoch stumbled, recovered his balance. A tree loomed and Chace reined to avoid colliding with it. They were halfway down when a horse whinnied shrilly.

  The townsman had misjudged. His bay went down, squealing as it pitched into a roll. Rider and horse crashed against a boulder and even that far away Chace heard the sharp crack of bone. The townsman’s bowler bore the brunt and the man flopped head over feet and slid to a rest, the bowler a ruin and his head pulped to mush.

  Deputy Fulsome didn’t stop.

  Chace reached the bottom and a flat stretch. He goaded Enoch and the mule didn’t disappoint. But when the lawman came to the flat, his buttermilk proved to be four-hooved lightning. Fulsome was soon in pistol range and whipped up his Colt. He was smiling, confident he was about to bring Chace down.

  Snapping the Spencer to his shoulder, Chace twisted in the saddle and banged off shot after shot. It was impossible to hold the rifle steady and nearly impossible to aim; he did the best he could. At the last blast Deputy Fulsome flung out an arm and toppled over the back of the buttermilk. When next Chace looked back, the lawman was sitting on the ground, a hand to his shoulder.

  “I know who you are, boy!” he shouted. “I’ll be coming for you!”

  Chace galloped on. Half a mile farther he brought Enoch to a stop and sat listening and scanning his back trail.

  There was no one after them.

  “We did it,” Chace said. “Or, rather, you did.” He patted Enoch and let out a long breath. “It was a close one.” He began to reload. He took the tubular magazine from the stock and plucked a cartridge from his cartridge belt. His brow puckered, and he said, “Do you reckon he was telling the truth about knowing who I am?”

  Enoch blew and nipped at the grass.

  Chace replaced the seven cartridges. He jacked the lever to feed one into the chamber and cradled the rifle in the crook of his elbow. “If he does it changes things.”

  Enoch tossed his head.

  “Yes, it does,” Chace said. “It means I can’t ever go home again.”

  16

  Cassie rode for all she and Bessie were worth. The feeling in her that she must get to Wareagle had become so strong it was scary. She had never felt like this. She kept saying to herself, “Oh, Chace, Chace, Chace.” As she neared the town, she saw the street was filled with people. It made her think of a nest of riled hornets. Other Shannons were there, and a lot of Harkeys, mingling with the townspeople. As she slowed she heard a lot of loud talk. Many of the people appeared to be angry or upset. She stopped at the first hitch rail she came to, slid down, and tied Bessie off.

  Staying close to the buildings, Cassie caught snatches of conversation.

  The more she heard, the more troubled she became.

  “... the gall, the rank gall. To ride in and shoot that boy dead. In broad daylight, no less. It’s unthinkable ...”

  “. . . walked up and shot him. Right in the face, I hear. Then knocked out the deputy and ...”

  “. . . father is over to the doc’s. They say he’ll be all right, but you’ve got to feel sorry for ...”

  “. . . the boy thinking? Why in hell did he do it? This will start the feud up again, and after years of living peaceable ...”

  “. . . Sheriff Wyler is on his way. Word is the judge will issue a warrant for the boy’s arrest ...”

  Cassie’s fear climbed. She spotted a cousin about her age under the overhang in front of the general store and hurried over. Struggling to stay calm, she took her cousin by the arm. “Matilda. What’s all the fuss about? I just got to town.”

  Her cousin had been listening to two men argue. She jumped when Cassie touched her, and blurted, “You! Here?” She pulled Cassie around the corner. “How could he? My pa says there will be a lot of killing now.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t know? Your brother shot Festus Harkey. Marched into the tavern and shot him dead, then lit out. A posse is after him.”

  Cassie’s legs grew weak. She leaned against the wall and bowed her head. “Oh God.”

  “Why would Chace do such a thing?”

  Without thinking, Cassie answered, “The Harkeys raped my sister.”

  Matilda gasped.

  Cassie closed her eyes and groaned. This was terrible. Her twin, on the run from the law. She needed to be with him, to help him. She opened her eyes and looked up to ask her cousin which way Chace had gone—only Matilda wasn’t there.

  Cassie went to the corner. Matilda was over with her folks and some others, talking excitedly. One of them saw her and pointed and they all turned and Matilda’s pa came over. His name was Orville and he was a big man and had always been nice to her.

  “Is it true what my girl says? The Harkeys raped Scarlet?”

  Cassie nodded.

  “Why weren’t we told? What was Buck thinking, keeping it secret? Where is he? I want to talk to him.”

  “He’s gone,” Cassie said. “Him and his brothers went to see Ezriah Harkey and never came back.”

  Orville’s expression became grim. “Son of a bitch.” He caught himself, and said, “Sorry, girl. Excuse me. The rest of our clan needs to know.” He turned but stopped. “Tell your ma some of us will be out to your place. Tell her she’s not in this alone.” He patted Cassie’s shoulder and hurried away to a knot of Shannons in front of the saloon.

  Cassie had a sense she had done something awfully wrong. She didn’t care. Her only worry right now was Chace. He came before anything else. She tried to think what she should do, how to find him. In a daze she wandered back down the street toward Bessie. Without looking she bumped into someone and said, “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be, girl, sneaking off that way.”

  Cassie looked up and pure joy flooded through her. “Grandpa!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.

  “I saw you riding away and came as fast as I could but couldn’t catch you. What are you up to? Your ma will be mad as a wet hen.”

  Cassie hugged him close and said into his chest, “It’s terrible. Chace is wanted by the law.”

  “Come with me.” Jed took her by the hand and went into the store.

  It was deserted except for Tom McKeevy, the owner, who was at the front window gazing out and running his hands over his white apron. He nodded at Jed. “This is bad. This is very bad.”

  “I just got here,” Jed told him. “Can you give me the particulars?”

  “The deputy was in to buy ammunition right before the posse rode out,” McKeevy related. “He told me everything.” McKeevy gave a short account of the shooting. “There were half a dozen witnesses. Your grandson goes on trial, he’ll spend the rest of his days behind bars if they don’t hang him.”

  “Which way did he head when he left?”

  “I don’t know. Deputy Fulsome will find him, wherever it was. Fulsome is a bloodhound when he’s on a scent, and a good tracker.”

  “Thank you,” Jed said, and led Cassie back out. “Festus Harkey. He must have been one of them as hurt your sister. Now I’m wondering how many others Chace got to before he tracked down Festus.”

  “What do we do, Grandpa? How can we help him?”

  From out in the street came a furious bellow from a large slab of a Harkey, who had his hands on his hips and was glowering at a Shannon.

  “That’s a damned lie! You take that back. A Harkey would never do a thing like that.”
<
br />   The Shannon raised his own voice. “Scarlet Shannon was raped, I tell you. And it was you damn Harkeys who did it.”

  Jed turned on Cassie. “What have you done?”

  New fear coursed through Cassie. She saw the large Harkey push the Shannon.

  “Who have you told?” Jed gripped her by the arms. “Answer me! This is serious.”

  “Matilda,” Cassie said. “I told Matilda.”

  Jed glanced along the street. More confrontations were taking place.

  “You stay right here. You hear me? You’re not to move. I’ve got to nip this in the bud before all hell breaks loose.” He ran off.

  Cassie sagged against the window. Her whole world was turning upside down. She yearned to be with Chace. She was a Shannon but he was her twin and he meant more to her than anyone.

  More angry voices pierced the air. A fistfight broke out between a pair of Harkeys and a pair of Shannons. Two women started slapping each other and pulling at their hair.

  “Oh God,” Cassie said. No one from either clan was to ever cause trouble in town. The rule had been drummed into her from when she was six, and she’d taken it for granted everyone would always abide by it.

  A townsman was trying to stop the fight. “Here now!” he shouted. “We’ll have none of that in Wareagle.”

  Weapons were brandished. A Harkey pointed a rifle at a Shannon. A Shannon drew a revolver and trained it on a Harkey.

  Cassie wrung her hands. This was her fault. She shouldn’t have told her cousin. She prayed to God everyone would calm down and go home in peace. No sooner did she stop praying than down the street a Shannon clubbed a Harkey to the ground. “Chace, where are you?” she said softly.

  A shot boomed, and bedlam erupted. Shannons attacked Harkeys and Harkeys attacked Shannons. Some used fists; some used knives. The crack of pistols, the loud blast of rifles, the curses, and the screams and the cries of panicked townspeople and terror-stricken children filled the street.

  Cassie headed for Bessie. She had to get out of there, had to find her brother. She saw a Harkey go down, his throat slit. A Shannon fell, the top of his head blown off. It was as if all the hatred the two clans had pent up for the better part of two decades was being unleashed. Violence had spread the length and breadth of the street. A few people were trying to restore calm but it was hopeless.

  Cassie looked for her grandfather but didn’t see him. She avoided a pair of furiously battling men, skirted two women who were rolling in the dirt. Somewhere a baby was bawling. A small girl ran past, screeching, “My pa’s been hurt! My pa’s been hurt!”

  Bessie didn’t need goading. As soon as Cassie swung on, the mule was away from the rail and broke into a trot. Cassie thought she heard her name called and looked over her shoulder. Wareagle was a welter of confusion and bloodshed.

  Townsmen were breaking the combatants apart but there were not enough of them to stop everyone.

  Then Cassie was in the clear and had the road to herself. She couldn’t stop thinking about Chace. With a posse after him he must be on the run. “I’ll find you,” she vowed aloud. She rounded a bend and four men were ahead, blocking the road. With relief she saw they had straw hair and blue eyes and drew rein, saying, “Out of my way. I’m in a hurry.”

  “Ain’t you Buck’s girl?” one asked.

  “What’s your rush, little one?” another wanted to know.

  Cassie’s head was in such a whirl she couldn’t remember their names. She didn’t see them but once or twice a year and then only in town. “The feud,” she said.

  “What about it?” asked the third man.

  “Harkeys are killing Shannons in the street,” Cassie said, and pointed back toward Wareagle. “I got out of there before they killed me.”

  All four looked at one another and then at her, disbelief writ on their faces. “As pranks go, that’s poor,” said the first man.

  “It’s no prank.” Cassie wanted them out of her way. “You don’t understand.” In a rush of words she told them everything: Scarlet being raped, her pa gone missing, her brother shooting a Harkey, and the chaos.

  “God Almighty,” one exclaimed. “I think she’s telling the truth.”

  “We have to go see,” said the first one. “Our kin might need us.”

  Cassie stayed where she was as they raced by. One yelled for her to follow but she did the opposite; she continued west. Half a mile on was a meadow abundant with wildflowers. She had gone there often to catch butterflies when she was little. She reined off the road and across the meadow to a belt of trees. Dismounting, she sank to her knees. “Oh, Chace,” she said, and her eyes moistened. A tear trickled down her right cheek. More flowed, until she couldn’t stop. She covered her face with her hands, crying as much over Chace as over her pa and her uncles and Scarlet and what she had caused in Wareagle. She cried until she had no tears left and all the vitality had drained out of her.

  Cassie curled on her side and sorted her thoughts. The important thing was still Chace. But how to find him with him on the run? She concentrated on him and on nothing else. Slowly a familiar feeling came over her. She should continue west. Something told her that if she did, eventually she would find him.

  Cassie climbed back on Bessie. She never questioned her feelings, not where her brother was concerned. She emerged from the trees and was across the meadow and almost to the road when another rider galloped up. “Grandpa!”

  “You shouldn’t have run off,” Jed said sternly.

  “I couldn’t stay. I’m sorry. I have to find Chace.”

  “Your brother can wait. I want you home with your ma. You’re to stay there until you hear from me.”

  “No,” Cassie said.

  “Don’t sass me. I’m not in the mood.” Jed brought his mule alongside Bessie. “People died back there because of you. You should have kept your mouth shut about Scarlet.”

  “Don’t lecture me. The only one I told was Matilda. She told her pa and it got out of hand.” Cassie paused. “Shouldn’t you be in back in town with them and the rest of our kinfolk? You’re the head of our clan, after all.”

  “Don’t you be lecturing me,” Jed said gruffly. “I did what I could. Then I saw you light a shuck and I came after you.”

  “I’m just one Shannon,” Cassie said.

  “You’re also my favorite granddaughter.” Jed gestured. “Do as I say and head home. With you safe I can go back and sort things out. Tell your ma I’ll likely stay in town overnight.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Cassie said. She dutifully lifted her reins and rode off without looking back. At the fork that would take her south to the cabin she continued west instead.

  Cassie would find Chace and they would work out what to do. Since they had been knee-high to bedbugs, they had always solved their problems together. Two minds as one; two hearts as one. That was how it would be for as long as either drew breath. She didn’t expect her grandfather to understand. Nor her ma or her sister or anyone else, for that matter. Only another twin would. Only another twin could.

  Cassie liked that she and Chace were so close. It was comforting to have someone who thought the same and felt the same. She was never alone, even when they were separated, like now, because he was always with her, always a part of her just like her arms and legs. The particulars of how was a mystery; it just was.

  The sun was low on the horizon when Cassie gave thought to stopping for the night. Only then did she realize that she didn’t have any food or blankets or a weapon to defend herself with. There was Bessie and her and the dress she was wearing and that was it.

  Cassie didn’t care. She would trust in the Lord to watch over her. Her ma was always saying as how God looked after those who looked up to Him. It made her think of the big difference between Chace and her; he didn’t believe as she did, not wholeheartedly. She’d asked him once why not and he replied that he’d had doubts ever since Uncle Granger’s baby girl died of the croup. As Chace had put it, “What kind of a God
kills babies?”

  Cassie didn’t know why things were the way they were. All she was sure of was that she would find Chace or die trying.

  17

  It was hard being a patriarch, Jedediah Shannon thought to himself. It was hard being responsible for so many lives. He’d never asked to be head of the clan. It had fallen to him when his father was shot by a Harkey.

  The damned Harkeys.

  Jed often mused on how different his life would have been if not for the feud. He never did like to kill and hated that so many others lost their lives over something so stupid as hate. That was how he once described the feud to his pa: stupid. Especially given as how no one could recollect what started it in the first place. But there the two clans had been, grown men and not so fully grown men, going around shooting at one another and lying in ambush and murdering one another with guns and toothpicks and bowie knives.

  Jed was proud of ending the bloodshed. That day he ran into Ezriah Harkey at the general store was a sign from above. Ezriah had been just as sick of the killing as he was. So they came to an agreement and shook hands, and just like that, the feud was over. Until now. Until Scarlet had to go and do something dumb and Buck had to prove something to himself by refusing help and then Chace had to go and shoot that Harkey in the tavern. Now here they were, the feud broken out again, and Jed miserable. Twenty years of peace forgotten as if it never was. The best and grandest thing he had ever done, shot to pieces.

  Jed shuddered to think how many more had their wicks snuffed out in the Wareagle fight. When he’d lit out there had been five on the ground and several more wounded. He should have stayed. As head of the clan he was obligated to tend to his kin. Instead he had gone after Cassie. He had no choice. He truly did adore her more than any of his grandkids. He adored her even more than he had adored his own sons, and that was saying a lot.

  Jed hung his head in despair. His sons. Buck and Granger and Fox should have been back days ago. He’d held out hope but there was no denying the truth; he wouldn’t ever set eyes on them again. They were dead. That was another reason he’d gone after Cassie; he didn’t want to lose her, too. Losing three sons was trial enough.

 

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