Chace downed the last of the coffee. “How do you know so much about it?”
“Folks stop here regular,” Barnaby said. “I hear a lot of things. Were it me hiding out, that’s where I’d go.”
Pushing his chair back, Chace set the Spencer in his lap. “Here’s my problem. Do I trust you, mister?”
“I said you could.”
“Saying doesn’t make it so.” Chace stood, and Barnaby paled and spread his hands on the table.
“Listen to me, boy. I have no love for the law. I was in trouble a few times when I was your age so I know how life goes.”
“How many folks did you send to their reward?”
“Well, none. But not because I didn’t want to.” Barnaby’s face dripped sweat. “I don’t have your grit, I guess. I can’t just go and shoot someone. I’m too afraid of being put in prison.”
Chace came around the table but stayed out of reach. “Let’s say I believe you. Let’s say I go my way and a month from now a lawman is on my trail and I find out it’s thanks to you.”
“Yes?” Barnaby said when Chace didn’t go on.
“It would rile me.”
“I have no hankering to die.”
“I hope so, for both our sakes.” Chace walked sideways to the door and out into the cool of the night. He unwrapped the reins and climbed on Enoch and rode on down the road.
“I have just made a mistake,” he said.
It was an hour or so past midnight by Cassie’s reckoning when she spied the tavern. It sat by itself, a lonely haven for wayfarers. A single glow showed in a window at the back. She was tired and hungry and had nearly ridden Bessie into the ground. She had to stop even though she didn’t want to.
Cassie went to the door and raised her fist to knock, and hesitated. It was late and the people inside might be asleep and it would be rude of her to wake them. But unless she got some rest and nourishment, she would be useless. She knocked loudly. No one came so she knocked louder. She thought she heard sounds and the front window flared with light. There was a sign but she didn’t bother reading it.
“Who’s there?” a man’s voice asked. He sounded half afraid.
“Me,” Cassie said.
“A girl?”
A bolt rasped and the door opened a crack and an eyeball peered out at her. The man the eye belonged to said, “I am dreaming.”
“What?” Cassie said. “No, you’re not. I’m real and I’d like something to eat and a bed to sleep in. This is a tavern, ain’t it?”
The door opened wider. “You look just like—” The man stopped. He had a shiny head and was wearing a nightshirt and holding a small lamp. “I’m Barnaby,” he said.
Cassie told him who she was. “Can I come in or not? I know it’s late and I’m sorry.”
The man raised the lamp higher and poked his head out and gazed the length of the road. “You alone?”
“Yes, sir.” Cassie didn’t see what that had to do with anything. A traveler was a traveler.
Barnaby stepped back and held the door wide. “Come on in. If I seem surprised it’s because I’ve never had a girl your age show up at my door this late and all alone. But you are more than welcome.”
Cassie entered. The room smelled of food and tobacco. “Is your wife to bed?”
Barnaby was studying her as if she was a mystery he wanted to solve. “My wife? Oh yes. She’s sleeping. I was just about to turn in myself when you knocked.” He closed the door and threw the bolt.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Common sense. I don’t care to be robbed or have my throat slit while I sleep.”
“Is there any chance I can get a bite to eat?” Cassie’s mention of food caused her stomach to rumble. “You can hear how hungry I am.”
“That I can.” Barnaby grinned in amusement. “I have some cold turnips and leftover peppermint cake. In the morning I can fix you a proper breakfast.”
“Doesn’t your wife cook?”
“By me I meant her.” Barnaby set the lamp on a table. “Why don’t you take a seat? I won’t be long.”
Cassie gripped the edges of the chair and bowed her head. She hated the delay. She wearily closed her eyes and a feeling came over her, the warmth she always felt when Chace was near. She glanced about her at the empty room and shook her head at how ridiculous she was being. Wishful thinking was all it was.
She yawned and fidgeted and hoped the man would hurry.
The plate he brought also had a slice of bread smeared with butter and several crackers. He had also thought to bring a glass of milk.
“It’s not much,” he apologized.
“It will do.” Cassie ate like a famished wolf. The turnips weren’t cold as he had said but slightly warm as if they had recently been cooked. She’d never been all that fond of turnips but her belly wasn’t as choosy. The man sat at the next table, watching. He didn’t say a word. She didn’t like being stared at but it was his tavern. When she was done she pushed the plate and empty glass away. “I’m awful grateful.”
“Are you riding on?”
Cassie wanted to. Her compulsion to catch up to Chace was like a rope around her heart, pulling her. “Not until daylight. I can use some sleep. But there’s something you should know. I don’t have any money to pay you.”
Barnaby said a strange thing. “Gall must run in your family.”
“I’m good for it, though,” Cassie made her case. “You tell me how much it is and I’ll see it gets to you if it takes me a month of Sundays. I’m honest, mister. Truly I am.”
“I believe you. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do. In the morning you can wash the dishes I didn’t get to today and we’ll call it even. How would that be?”
Another delay Cassie would rather not have. Still, she wouldn’t owe him anything, and he was being kind. “We have a deal.”
Barnaby smiled and picked up the lamp. He led her down a narrow hall, past several doors. One was open and Cassie saw a bed and a dresser and a rug on the floor. He came to the last door and opened it and stepped aside.
“After you.”
Cassie stepped past him and took two steps in and stopped. It wasn’t a room, it was a big closet with shelves lined with canned goods and spare blankets and whatnot. She started to turn and the door slammed shut behind her, plunging her in darkness. “What are you doing?” She groped for the latch but there was none. The door only opened from the outside. Fear gripped her and she called out, “Mister? What are you up to?”
“What do you think, girl?” Barnaby replied, and laughed.
19
Deputy Nick Fulsome was lying in bed in a spare room on the second floor of Doc Witherspoon’s when Sheriff Aldo Wyler waddled in. Wyler wore a tailored suit and polished leather boots and a hat that never had a speck of dust. Wyler walked to a chair and contemplated sitting in it and stepped to the bed instead. “Well,” he said.
“Well yourself,” Nick sulkily responded.
“You went and got yourself shot.”
“No wonder you’re the sheriff. You don’t miss a thing.”
Wyler frowned, a feat in itself as his face was a great moon of fat. “You’re the only one in the world I will take that from. Do you want to know why?”
“I’m the only deputy you have who is worth a damn.”
“There’s that,” Wyler said. “But no. I take your barbs out of respect for my sister. She asked me to give you the job and I did, and you’ve never let me down. But don’t think you can’t be replaced. Everyone can be replaced.”
“Don’t remind me of her,” Nick said.
“Why not? We honor the dead by remembering them. You loved her. It’s not your fault she got consumption and died.”
“Don’t remind me, I said.”
Wyler moved to a window that overlooked the street. “Witherspoon tells me you’ll be up and around in a few days. The only reason he made you stay in bed was all the blood you lost.”
“That damned kid,” Nick said.
“Yes, that damned kid.” Sheriff Wyler leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “That damned, deadly, beautiful kid.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Nick shook his head. “You and your fine clothes and fancy talk. What are you trying to prove? That you’re more than you are?”
“Nicholas, Nicholas, Nicholas.”
“Don’t call me that. I’ve told you before. It’s just Nick.”
“Nicholas P. Fulsome. Raised on a farm but you hated farm life. Spent most of your childhood hunting. Took up with my sister and needed a job, so I pinned a badge on you. That’s your life in a nutshell.”
“What did you say all that for?”
“Because I have a favor to ask. A very important favor. It involves our deadly young friend.”
“He’s no friend of mine.”
“Nor the Harkeys,” Wyler said. “He killed old Ezriah and that crazy witch woman. He killed Rabon and Woot and Scooter Harkey. He killed Lincoln Harkey and Lincoln’s two brothers, George and Jefferson. He killed Festus Harkey. He killed Flannery, the townsman in your posse. And he shot you. Hard to believe he’s only sixteen. The rate he is going, he will be the champion killer of all time before he is through.”
“He’s better than his years,” Nick said.
“That boy is a match and he’s lit the tinder.”
“You’re talking about the feud between the Harkeys and the Shannons.”
“Three Harkeys were killed right out there in the street. Two Shannons died, too.”
“All because of that kid.”
“Word is that it started when Scarlet Shannon was raped. She’s Buck Shannon’s girl, or was. Makes her the kid’s sister.”
“Why was?” Nick asked.
“Because she’s dead. So is her mother, Erna. We found their graves out to their place after the fire.”
“You’re losing me.”
“Their cabin burned to the ground. From what we can tell it was set on purpose. No idea who. Buck Shannon is missing along with his brothers, Granger and Fox. It’s a mess I am trying to untangle.”
“What’s the favor you mentioned?”
Sheriff Wyler walked to the bed. “Before I get to that, I need you to understand. The Shannon-Harkey feud was one of the worst ever. The killing never stopped. I’d been in office barely six months when Jed Shannon and Ezriah agreed to a truce. For twenty years this county has been peaceful. Now, thanks to the rape and this killer of a kid, all hell has busted loose. I won’t have it. Not in Madison County, I won’t.” Wyler took off his hat. He had a full head of hair well oiled and cropped around the ears. “The feud has started up again and we have to stop it before it gets as bad as before. There’s only one way to do that. The Harkeys want this kid’s head on a platter and we’re going to give it to them.”
“We are?”
“They blame him for everything that’s happened.”
“What about the rape?”
“Most Harkeys think it’s a lie the Shannons made up to excuse what the kid did. We bring him in, we make the Harkeys happy. I might be able to sit down with both sides and arrange a new truce.”
“The Shannons will go for that?”
“The kid’s grandfather, Jed, never liked the killing, and he should be easy to convince.” Wyler paused. “If I can find him. He’s disappeared, too.”
Nick sat up and propped the pillow at the small of his back. “I’m still waiting to hear that favor.”
Sheriff Wyler put his hat on. “I want you to go after him. I want you to track this Chace Shannon to the ends of the earth, if need be, but get him for me. Dead if you have to but alive would be better so we can put him on trial. Just so you bring him back. I’ve promised to get him one way or the other. It will show the Harkeys I’m a man of my word and they’ll be easier to persuade to accept a new truce.”
“You have this all thought out,” Nick said.
“I do the best I can, Nicholas. I took an oath to uphold the law. I know people poke fun at me because of my size but no one can poke fun at me over the job I do.”
“No,” Nick agreed. “You’re a good lawman.”
“So, will you do it? It could take weeks, even months. Will you hunt down Chace Shannon for me?”
“Not just for you,” Nick Fulsome said, and touched his shoulder.
Cassie pounded and pounded but it did no good. Barnaby didn’t open the door; he didn’t answer her shouts. She thought that maybe his wife would come if she shouted loud enough but no one did. Fighting down her fear, she sat with her legs crossed and her chin in her hands. She wished Chace was there. He would know what to do.
Cassie tried to make sense of it. The man had shut her in. Why? Plainly, he was up to no good. But what? She had admitted she didn’t have money so it couldn’t be that. It had to be the other thing—the thing her ma had warned her about when she was little, the thing that bad men did to women who didn’t want to do it. The thing that had happened to Scarlet. Rape. The word echoed ugly in her brain. Cassie knew about “it.” She’d been raised on a farm, after all. Cats did “it.” Cows did “it.” Horses did “it.” People did “it.” And this Barnaby must have been planing to do “it” with her.
Cassie shuddered with loathing. She was beginning to understand how Scarlet must have felt. Just thinking about Barnaby doing it to her was terrible.
Rising, Cassie groped the shelves. She needed a weapon. Some of the cans were heavy but she wanted something better. Her questing fingers brushed a long wooden handle. She ran her hand down it and discovered it was a broom. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing. She jabbed a few times at an imaginary foe.
Folded blankets were on a middle shelf. Cassie took one down and unfolded it and placed it at her feet. Next to it she placed a heavy can. She sat with the broom across her lap and said to herself, “Come and get me.”
No one did. The minutes crawled into hours. Cassie’s head drooped. She felt herself falling asleep. Jerking her head up, she shook it to clear the cobwebs. Again and again she did the same but at last she succumbed.
A noise woke her. Cassie raised her head and listened but whatever it had been wasn’t repeated. Light at the bottom of the door told her it was daylight.
She stiffly rose and rubbed her leg where the circulation had been cut off. She began pounding and hollering. Her hands hurt but she kept at it. Just when she couldn’t take the pain anymore and was about to stop, the door shook to a blow on the other side.
“Stop that, damn you. I could hear you out front.”
“Let me out, Mr. Barnaby,” Cassie said. “Let me be on my way and I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“You’re damn right you won’t because I won’t let you.”
“What is it you want?”
“You’re pretty, girl, as pretty as he was handsome, and I like the pretty ones. Now be quiet in there and I’ll fix you breakfast.”
“As handsome as who was, Mr. Barnaby? Who are you talking about?”
“The boy who was here before you. He wasn’t interested but you’ll serve fine in his stead.”
Cassie’s heart beat faster. He must be talking about Chace. “When was the boy here? Did he say his name?” Barnaby didn’t answer. She pounded on the door and raised her voice but it was no use. He had gone off. She should have been upset but she wasn’t. She was elated. She was close on Chace’s trail. If only she could get out, they could be together before the day was done.
Breakfast, Barnaby had said.
Cassie leaned the broom against the wall near the door and put the heavy can next to it. She gripped the blanket in both hands and shook it a few times.
Everything depended on how quick she could be. She wasn’t Chace but she wasn’t a turtle, either. It might work.
The wait was forever. At last there came a thump on the door and Barnaby said, “I’ve brought you eggs and sausage. Step back from the door and keep your hands where I can see them.”
“I won’t try anyth
ing,” Cassie lied.
“You better not. If you make me mad, you’ll suffer.”
The door started to open. Cassie was to one side, the blanket in front of her. Light crawled in, and two hands appeared holding a tray.
“Where are you, girl?”
Cassie sprang and flung the blanket. Barnaby recoiled, still holding the tray, and the blanket fell over his head and one shoulder. He cursed and dropped the tray and grabbed it. By then she had the can in one hand and the broom in the other. She smashed the can against his head and he cried out and staggered back.
She hit him again, but he moved and the can only grazed him. She was watching his hands and not his feet and she didn’t see the kick that caught her across the shin and nearly upended her. She let go of the can, held the broom in both hands, handle out, and speared it at his gut and his chest and his groin. She was hurting him but not enough. He tore the blanket off and his eyes were terrible to behold. Spittle was dribbling from his mouth. With a growl he threw the blanket at her. Cassie dodged. Suddenly he had hold of the handle and was seeking to wrest it from her grasp. She let go and ran. She had always been fast and she was out into the main room and made it to the front door and yanked. She had forgotten the bolt. She clawed at it and arms encircled her from behind. She was lifted bodily and thrown at the floor. She hit and rolled and came up in a crouch, her heart hammering in her chest.
Barnaby looked the madman. His head was bleeding and he was breathing in loud gasps. Fingers hooked, he spread his thick arms. “For that you’ll pay, you little bitch. God, how you’ll pay.”
Cassie darted to a chair. She had it up before he could reach her and brought it down. A leg splintered. He cuffed her, backhand, and she fell against a table. He lunged for her throat but she skipped away.
“You won’t get past me, girl,” Barnaby vowed.
Cassie circled and he circled with her. She tried to go right and he blocked her. She tried to get around him on the left but he was there. He laughed, as if he was enjoying himself. She didn’t laugh. She was in deadly earnest. She would kill him if she could if that was what it took.
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