Six Guns at Solace

by John Davage

  ‘What’s he going to do?’ Becky’s head was in a whirl.

  ‘He plans to take Eli back to Solace to face a trial, usin’ me as a witness to Eli’s killin’ of the bank manager.’

  Becky stared at him in astonishment, trying to take it all in. ‘But . . . but what about you? Even though you didn’t kill anybody, you were part of the robbery. Won’t that mean prison?’

  ‘Prob’ly,’ Clay said. As long as Meg keeps her mouth shut about who really killed the teller – me, not Silas. ‘That ain’t decided. Walsh says the law’ll go easy on me if’n I give testimony against Eli. Maybe just a short spell in Yuma prison.’ Clay gave a short mirthless chuckle. ‘ ’Ceptin’ I don’t plan to hang around to find out, once I know you’re safe. If the law wants me, it’ll have to come after me.’ He looked at Becky. ‘An’ Walsh may not want to do that after he hears what you’re gonna tell him.’

  Becky frowned. ‘Yeah? What am I going to tell him?’

  ‘That Meg Thornton, the girl he’s plannin’ to marry, is my sister,’ Clay said. ‘That’ll probl’y give him pause for thought.’

  ‘Your sister?’ She stared at him. ‘But your name’s Adams . . . ain’t it?’

  Clay shook his head. ‘It’s Thornton. Clay Thornton.’ He saw the stunned look on her face and forestalled her string of questions with, ‘It’s a long story, Becky. Get Meg to tell it to you sometime. An’ get her to tell you an’ Walsh what really happened at the bank raid in Solace. By then I’ll be long gone, to somewhere safe, if I’m lucky. An’ I plan to be.’

  She stared at him, her head in a spin. ‘But how is Tom Walsh going to ride into the ranch without Eli seeing him?’

  Clay smiled. ‘Eli will see him. Only it’ll be “Nate” he sees.’

  Becky looked confused. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. Just get some things together an’ be ready to leave. I’m gonna saddle a coupl’a horses as soon as you’ve gone back to the house, so keep Eli away from the window.’

  ‘This is crazy,’ she said. ‘We’ll never get away with . . .’

  He put a hand on her arm. ‘It’s gonna be OK. Trust me.’

  Eli was sitting at the pine table, morosely nursing a tumbler of bourbon. The strain of the last few days was showing on his face. Not only had he lost his brother, but he’d lost Ray Riggins, one of his best gunman. And Ray, being the oldest, had been a calming influence when things went wrong. Eli knew he’d miss him.

  His gunbelt, with both holsters holding a six-gun, was slung over the back of the chair next to him. An oil lamp burned in the centre of the table. He looked up as Becky returned clutching the coffee pot.

  ‘You were a long time,’ he said, suspiciously. ‘What were you doin’?’

  ‘I . . . I waited to bring back the coffee,’ she said. ‘Do you want some?’

  He shook his head. ‘You weren’t cosyin’ up to the kid, were you?’ he said, eyeing her carefully.

  ‘ ’Course not.’

  Becky could feel her heart thumping in her breast.

  ‘You know he’s soft on you, don’t you?’

  She gave a nervous little laugh. ‘Don’t be silly, Eli,’ she said.

  ‘Believe me, the horny little bastard would be only too happy to get you between the sheets if’n I gave him half a chance,’ Eli said. ‘Ain’t you seen the way he looks at you?’

  Becky blushed. ‘He won’t do anythin’.’

  ‘Damn right, he won’t!’ Eli said, belligerently. ‘You’re my property, girl, an’ don’t you forget it!’ His voice softened slightly as he went on. ‘’Sides, now your pa’s dead, you’re gonna need somebody to look out for you.’ He shook his head. ‘Don’t know what got into him, tryin’ to gun down Ray an’ Chet. It was a stupid thing to do, Becky, you know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Sure, Eli,’ Becky said, quietly. She faked a yawn. ‘I . . . I guess I’ll go to bed now, if that’s OK. I’m real tuckered out.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s OK.’ He swallowed a mouthful of bourbon. ‘You go on up. I’m gonna wait for Nate, hear what happened from him. Reckon the kid only had half the story.’ He glanced up at her. ‘We’ll prob’ly move on from here tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘We will?’

  ‘Yeah. Kinda outstayed our welcome in Weslake, I’m reckonin’. Not sure if Nate’ll want to come along with us, you can never tell what he’s thinkin’. Keeps his cards close to his chest. Anyways, I’ll leave it to him. But you take yourself off to bed an’ get some sleep.’ He gave a sly grin. ‘I might decide to wake you up for a bit of lovin’ later. OK?’ He laughed and poured himself another shot of bourbon.

  ‘Uh . . . OK.’ Becky gave a half-smile. Then she remembered what Chet . . . Clay had told her about Tom Walsh coming soon, and a feeling of relief swept over her as she escaped to her room.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Clad in Nate Morgan’s long riding duster and with the brim of Morgan’s broad-brimmed hat pulled low over his forehead, Tom rode the piebald gelding towards the ranch house at a steady trot. Behind him, he trailed his own horse with Morgan’s body slung over the saddle. Just how near he would get before Eli Pike realized he wasn’t Morgan, Tom couldn’t be sure. It was a gamble, but a gamble worth taking if it meant getting Becky Garrod out of Pike’s clutches. And at least the makeshift ‘disguise’ gave him a chance to get close enough to spring his surprise and draw Morgan’s Winchester from the saddle boot.

  The arm that Nate’s bullet had winged was bandaged under the duster and gave off a dull ache, but the doc in Weslake had done a good job of patching him up. Good enough for what he had to do now, at any rate.

  ‘Best of luck, young’un,’ Smokey Harrison had said to him, after helping to tie down Nate’s body on Tom’s horse. ‘Reckon you’re gonna need it.’

  It seemed that the old-timer, like others in that town, had a vested interest in seeing Eli Pike brought to justice, driven out of the territory – or better still, killed.

  Tom looked across at the ranch house. He could see the light from the living-room oil lamp and the silhouetted form of Eli as the latter, hearing Tom’s approach, rose from his chair. The only other light in the building was upstairs, and Tom hoped this meant that Becky Garrod was preparing to leave – if necessary, in a hurry. That Clay Thornton had forewarned her.

  Eli emerged from the house on to the porch above the step. Tom noted he was not wearing his gunbelt. ‘Nate?’ he called. ‘You OK?’

  Tom made no reply, just kept riding. Casually, he let his hand drift down to the stock of the Winchester and closed his fingers around it.

  ‘Heard you got a bullet,’ Eli said. ‘The doc fix you up OK? Only I. . . .’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Sonofabitch! You ain’t . . .’ The words trailed off as he saw Tom draw the Winchester from its scabbard. A slow smile spread across his face. ‘The lawman from Solace! Well, I’ll be damned.’

  Tom nodded. ‘More’n likely you will.’

  Eli gave a rueful grin. ‘Well, I guess you bein’ here means Nate’s gone to meet his maker. That his body you’re towin’ behind you?’

  ‘That’s right, Eli,’ Tom said, reining the piebald to a halt a few feet from the porch and levelling the rifle so that it pointed directly at Eli’s chest.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Clay Thornton leading two saddled horses from the corral, his six-gun drawn in readiness for trouble.

  Eli noticed him, too, and sighed. ‘So the kid was lyin’,’ he said. He glanced at Clay. ‘The lawman talk you round to takin’ his side, Chet?’

  Clay halted the two horses alongside the piebald. ‘Guess he did, Eli,’ he answered. ‘Didn’t take much persuadin’, not after the way you’ve been treatin’ Becky.’

  Eli nodded. ‘Thought as much. It’s like I was just tellin’ her, you’re soft on her, ain’t you? Well, it makes no never-mind ’cause she ain’t goin’ anywhere. She’s stayin’ with me.’

  ‘Untie Morgan’s body,’ Tom told Clay without taking his eyes off
Eli. ‘I want to be ridin’ my own horse when we leave here.’

  Clay did as he was asked, and Tom heard the thrump as Morgan’s corpse hit the dirt.

  ‘Now go fetch Becky from inside the house, kid,’ Tom said.

  ‘N . . . no need to!’ The unsteady voice came from the ranch-house doorway, where Becky was standing a few feet behind Eli. ‘I’m here.’ She was holding a carpetbag and was wearing jeans, a shirt and a tooled leather vest.

  Eli turned and looked at her. ‘Ready to travel?’ he said, the sneer in his voice only too apparent. ‘Shame you won’t be goin’ anyplace, leastways not with these critters.’

  ‘We’re all goin’, you included, Pike,’ Tom said. ‘We’re goin’ back to Solace, where you’ll spend some time in Sheriff Wickes’s jail afore bein’ tried by the circuit judge. Then you’ll be hanged for the murder of Arthur Makin, the bank manager.’

  Eli laughed. ‘That so?’ He looked at Clay. ‘An’ what about you, kid? What’s this here deputy told you? That the judge’ll go easy on you after you give testimony against me? Well, good luck with that kid, but I wouldn’t count on it. Believe me, it’ll make more sense if’n you gun down this lawman an’ come back an’ join me an’ Becky.’

  ‘So you could kill me?’ Clay shouted. ‘No deal, Eli. An’ Becky’s comin’ with us.’

  ‘Listen, you want Becky?’ Eli said. ‘OK, you can have her. I’m kinda bored with her, anyways. Jus’ come with me.’

  In the course of this conversation, Tom had dismounted the piebald whilst Clay kept Eli covered with his six-gun.

  ‘We was plannin’ on leavin’ here tomorrow anyways, ain’t that right, girl?’ Eli went on. ‘Gettin’ away from Weslake. The three of us could start up again someplace else, kid.’

  ‘He’s lyin’, Clay,’ Tom said, gathering up the reins of his horse.

  ‘ “Clay”?’ What’s with this “Clay”? That your real name, kid? Well, well, the night’s full of surprises. Not that it matters none. You’ll still be better off with me, kid. ’Sides, you ain’t had your share of the money from the bank raid,’ Eli persisted, seeing Clay wavering. ‘With jus’ the two of us left, that’s more’n ten thousand dollars apiece. You gonna pass up ten thousand dollars an’ take your chances on avoidin’ spendin’ the next ten years in jail, kid?’

  Clay’s thoughts whirled. Doubts began to seep into the edges of his mind. Ten thousand dollars! He could start a whole new life with that amount of money. And maybe there would still be an opportunity to get away with Becky, once he’d got his share.

  And Yuma prison beckoned if he hooked up with the lawman.

  Tom saw that the kid was wavering. ‘Don’t listen to him, Clay,’ he said, gathering up the reins of his horse. ‘He’s . . .’

  But Clay had made up his mind. ‘Change of plan, lawman!’ he said.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  He wheeled and pointed his .45 at Tom. ‘Eli’s right, there ain’t no guarantee I won’t end up in Yuma, doin’ a ten-stretch.’

  ‘Now you’re seein’ sense, kid,’ Eli said.

  ‘Drop the Winchester an’ undo your gunbelt!’ Clay told Tom.

  Tom sighed, dropped the rifle and released his gunbelt so that it fell to the dirt. ‘You’re a fool, Thornton, if you think you’ll live to see any of that money,’ he said. ‘Pike’ll gun you down soon as he gets his hand on a weapon. An’ what about Becky? You gonna leave her at the mercy of that evil critter?’

  ‘Shut up!’ Clay said. ‘Just get on your horse an’ ride out.’

  ‘No, you can’t let him do that, kid!’ Eli yelled. ‘You’re gonna have to kill him!’

  Clay glanced over his shoulder at Eli, then back again at Tom, as he vacillated.

  ‘He’s right, Clay,’ Tom said, calmly. ‘You’re gonna have to kill me. You up to that?’ He could see the beads of sweat on the young man’s forehead, in spite of the coolness of the night.

  ‘Do it, kid!’ The impatience in Eli’s voice was clear. ‘Plug him! It ain’t as though it’ll be your first. You killed the bank teller, remember?’

  ‘I . . . I can’t,’ Clay said, eventually.

  ‘Why?’ Eli demanded. ‘What’s so different about this hombre?’

  ‘He’s going to marry Clay’s sister, that’s what’s different about him!’ screamed Becky, suddenly finding her voice. ‘Clay, you can’t kill your sister’s fiancé!’

  Eli turned and peered at Becky. ‘What in hell are you talkin’ about?’

  She looked back, not answering.

  ‘You’re . . . you’re Meg’s brother?’ Tom said, staring at Clay.

  Clay nodded. ‘Yeah, I am.’ He steadied his gun hand. ‘So get on your horse an’ ride, afore I change my mind!’

  ‘No!’ Eli shouted. ‘If you won’t kill him, let me, kid. This ain’t no time for sentiment. He’s a lawman, an’ even if you let him go, he’ll jus’ hunt you down again. Ain’t that right, lawman?’

  ‘Yep, I guess it is,’ Tom said, looking straight at Clay. ‘ ’Specially now I know it was you who killed Howie Clark. Howie was a good friend of mine.’

  ‘I . . . I had to,’ Clay said. ‘Or he would’ve shot me.’

  ‘Throw me his six-gun, kid,’ Eli yelled. ‘I’ll finish him, you don’t have to do anythin’. Jus’ come an’ look after Becky.’

  Clay glanced back at him, then bent down and scooped up Tom’s Peacemaker. He was about to toss it back to Eli when a voice came from somewhere behind Tom.

  ‘Hold everythin’!’

  It was followed by a rifle shot that echoed in the stillness and kicked up splinters from the porch floor at Eli’s feet.

  ‘Sheeit!’ Eli swore as the figure emerged from the shadows.

  ‘Floyd?’ Tom said, recognizing the voice. ‘Hell, am I glad to see you!’

  He snatched his six-gun from the dithering Clay’s grasp and used the barrel to knock the youngster’s own gun from his hand. Then he snatched up the discarded Winchester and ran to Floyd’s side.

  ‘You OK, Tom?’ Floyd asked.

  ‘I am now you’re here,’ Tom answered. ‘What brought you?’

  ‘The truth about what happened at the bank,’ Floyd answered. ‘I’ll tell it to you later. It’s some story.’

  ‘I think I’m beginnin’ to find out some of it anyways,’ Tom said, staring at Clay.

  ‘OK, but right now we need to attend to these two varmints,’ Floyd said.

  During this exchange, unnoticed by either of them, Eli had imperceptibly inched his way back towards Becky. Equally, the girl had been too busy watching Tom and Floyd to notice Eli’s movements, so that when he sprang, it took her completely by surprise.

  He threw himself against her, his weight pushing her back into the house before he kicked the door shut behind them. Becky screamed as they crashed to the floor in a heap, Eli’s body knocking the breath from her chest.

  The belated shot from Floyd’s Winchester splintered the doorframe but was otherwise ineffective. He cursed and spurred his horse away from the line of the door. The remaining horses scattered as Tom ran for cover.

  Clay whirled from side to side, then made for the house. ‘I’m comin’ in, Eli!’ he yelled. ‘Don’t shoot!’

  Floyd lifted his rifle and aimed at Clay’s retreating form.

  ‘No!’ Tom shouted. ‘Leave him, Floyd. He’s Meg’s brother!’

  ‘He’s still a killer,’ Floyd yelled, but withheld his fire.

  ‘Just take cover! Pike’s gonna start shootin’ any minute!’

  Inside the house, Eli had been quick to get to his feet, dragging Becky up by her arm and throwing her into a corner of the room. ‘Stay there, bitch!’ he’d snarled, then snatched his gunbelt from the back of the chair. He shoved the table up against the door to act as a barricade, then crouched and made his way to the window. He smashed the glass with the barrel of his .45 and fired a warning shot into the darkness. ‘Stay back lawmen!’ he yelled. ‘Or I kill the girl!’

  Becky was making noise
s like a small animal in the corner, curled up in a foetal position, still clutching her carpetbag. She heard Clay hammering on the blocked door.

  ‘Eli! Let me in afore they kill me!’

  For a reply, Eli poked his gun out of the holed glass and fired a single sideways shot. There was the sound of a scream, then of Clay falling on to the boards – then nothing.

  Floyd was at one end of the porch, flattened against the corner of the ranch house, the Winchester in his hand. He could see Tom prone on the ground, below the step, clutching his .45. The younger man had swiftly discarded Nate Morgan’s riding duster and hat so he could move more easily. They lay in a heap in the dirt a few feet from him, like the ghost of the dead outlaw.

  Both lawmen had ducked instinctively as Eli smashed the window and fired the warning shot into the darkness. Both now heard the second shot and saw Clay Thornton collapse and lie still, half his face blown away.

  Floyd dropped to his hands and knees and crab-walked along the porch and under the window until he reached the door. Avoiding Clay’s body, he heaved his shoulder against the door, testing it for an obstruction, and wasn’t surprised when it didn’t budge.

  Eli’s voice came from the window. ‘Listen up, out there! You want this girl to live, you’re gonna do as I tell you. Hear me?’

  Tom waited a few moments, then said, ‘We hear you, Pike.’

  ‘OK. Now you’re both gonna toss your six-guns an’ rifles next to the kid. Then you’re gonna walk slowly, hands in the air, an’ get the two saddled horses Clay brought out earlier. You’re gonna bring ’em to the porch an’ leave ’em by the steps. You got that?’

  ‘Sure, Pike,’ Tom said. ‘Just don’t hurt the girl.’

  ‘Next you’re gonna back away an’ lie down flat on the ground until Becky an’ me have ridden out of here,’ Eli said. ‘Try anythin’ fancy, an’ the girl dies. Got that?’

  ‘We got it, Pike,’ Floyd said, nodding at Tom to reciprocate.