The bartender brought a sawn-off greener into view and said in a bored voice that told of a man who had done the same many times before: “First man ’at touches a gun, I’ll blow his fool head off.”
A cowhand looked over his shoulder and said: “You’ll pay for this, Nuttall.”
Nuttall said unperturbed: “Take it out on the street.”
McAllister said: “No, we’ll take it here. There ain’t no greener to say fair play out on the street.”
They heaved themselves away from the bar as one man. Foley was grinning wolfishly. Now he was going to pay McAllister for making him back down.
Still seated, McAllister said: “Evalina, vamoose.”
She hesitated, then fled.
McAllister said: “Let’s get at it, boys,”
They charged.
McAllister upended the table with his left and stopped two of them. With his right he whisked the chair from under him and swung it unerringly at the head of the right-hand man. It smashed and the man went down without a sound. Foley ran in, aimed a kick at McAllister’s groin and found his ankle caught in an iron grip. He was upended into the man immediately behind him and they both went down in a heap, McAllister jumped in with both feet into Foley’s belly. The wind went out of him noisily. The man Foley had bowled over started getting to his feet and McAllister gave him a knee under the jaw. It didn’t knock him out, but he went down again.
The two men the table had stopped ran around either side of it and charged in. McAllister scooped the fallen bottle up from the floor, smashed it over the head of one and fell back under the onslaught of the other. He tripped on a fallen chair and the man jumped at him with both feet. McAllister rolled, launched himself in a dive and caught the man with his shoulder at the knees. When the man landed, it sounded as if the whole hotel had been shattered.
Foley was on his hands and knees coughing and retching.
McAllister got to his feet and ran for the door.
Foley staggered to his feet, pale to green and croaked: “After him.”
Three men were able to get belatedly on the move, pulling guns from their holsters as they went.
McAllister tipped the first one as he came through the door. He somersaulted, hit the edge of the sidewalk on his head and started wandering through the dust on his hands and knees.
The second, who was Foley, McAllister hit over the head with the barrel of his Remington. With a faint groan, he collapsed on the sidewalk.
The third hesitated inside the door, gun in hand.
McAllister said: “Come out or I’ll kill you.”
The man tossed his gun onto the sidewalk and walked out on rubber legs.
“I only work for wages,” he said pitifully.
“Earned burning folks’ houses,” McAllister reminded him.
The man looked a little sick.
“What happens now?” he asked.
McAllister jerked his chin in the direction of the man on his hands and knees.
“Go gather in your lost friend there,” he said.
The man went and turned the man in the direction of the sidewalk saying: “Mr. McAllister wants you-all.” The man advanced on hands and knees until he met the edge of the sidewalk and then stretched out on his face in the dust. McAllister leaned up against the wall of the saloon and waited. It wasn’t long before Foley started to come around and the man in the dust was able to pull himself together enough to stand up. It seemed that they found it difficult to focus their eyes.
Two men walked out of the saloon and stood looking in a dazed kind of a way at the gun in McAllister’s hand. They looked at their three comrades and one said: “Jeesus!”
George Gibson came slowly along the street flanked by his two deputies. Evalina came out of the saloon and surveyed the scene.
George halted near the sidewalk and said: “You know I don’t like to see a gun out in my town, Rem.”
McAllister said: “I made a citizen’s arrest when the law wasn’t available.”
Foley said: “He assaulted us.”
“Yeah,” said McAllister, “all five of you. Ain’t I the big bully.”
Evalina said: “Who pays for the damage?” Nobody took much notice of her for a change.
Gibson said: “You makin’ charges against McAllister, Foley?”
McAllister smiled. “I’m makin’ charges against all five of these polecats.”
Gibson looked like a worried man. He knew this could lead to a lot of trouble that could be hard to handle. If he arrested these men, he could have Markham down on him. He wasn’t afraid of any living man, or so he told himself, but that didn’t mean he was a damn fool. Life would be a whole lot easier with Markham on his side and not against him.
“What charges?” he asked.
“Assault.”
“You got witnesses?”
“Evalina and Nutall.”
The sheriff turned his eyes to the woman and to her help who had appeared in the doorway. He still held the greener in his hands.
Evalina said: “I wasn’t there. McAllister knows I wasn’t. I left before the trouble started.”
“My friend,” McAllister remarked.
Nuttall took his lead from his employer.
“I never seen nothin’ neither,” he said. “I ducked down behind the bar and didn’t see nothin’.”
Gibson suggested: “You must have heard somethin’.”
“I covered my ears. I thought there was goin’ to be shootin’.”
Gibson almost smiled. Goad giggled. McAllister’s gun was on Foley and it didn’t waver. Dolan’s right hand moved.
McAllister said: “Watch your hand, deputy,” and Dolan’s hand jerked clear of the gun.
Gibson said: “It don’t look like you have much of a case, Rem.”
“All right,” McAllister said. “No charge of assault. But what would you call burnin’ a man’s house and runnin’ off his stock? Is that breakin’ the law?”
“You know durned well it is.”
“That’s what these men did. Take ’em in, George.”
Gibson looked at a loss.
“Foley,” he said, “what do you say to this charge?”
“Deny it.”
“You got witnesses, Rem?”
“Sure.”
“Where’re they at?”
“Where Markham can’t get at ’em.”
“Well, you bring ’em into town purty damn quick. I ain’t holdin’ these men long.”
Foley let out a growl.
“You ain’t holdin’ us a-tall, Gibson. You know what kind of a man this McAllister is. He’s a plain trouble-maker. Why didn’t he come armed in broad daylight and attack Mr. Markham himself? You can’t hold us an’ you know it.”
People had collected by this time and were watching the proceedings with interest. The two deputies started shooing them away, they went a few yards and drifted back.
Gibson said: “In view of the charges, I’m takin’ you men in. Maybe, the judge’ll allow you bail. I hope to hell he does. Too much of a chore, feedin’ five of you. The taxes won’t bear it.”
McAllister said: “I’ll put my gun away, George, if you an’ your boys draw yours.”
The law drew their guns.
“Get walkin’,” Gibson said and the five men trooped off through the dust in the direction of the sheriff’s office.
McAllister holstered his Remington and the sheriff said over his shoulder: “Best get your witnesses into town fast, Rem.”
McAllister watched them down the street and turned to Evalina.
“My pal,” he said.
Her eyes snapped.
“That’s ten dollars’ worth of damages,” she said. “I told you no fightin’ in my place.”
He took a five dollar piece from his pocket and gave it to her.
“You got gold on your chairs?” he asked. He turned and pushed through the crowd, heading for the livery stable. Here he loaded his pack-horse, saddled up, paid his dues and rode
slowly out of town. He crossed the. wooden bridge over the creek and started slowly up the rise beyond. Coming over the crest was a buggy. In it sat Carlotta Markham. She was alone.
5
At the sight of her, his heart missed a beat and he thought: You damn fool, you’re acting like a kid. She halted her horse at the top of the crest and waited for him to come up to her. He reined in and lifted his hat.
Carlotta saw a big lean man, Indian dark with lank black hair and eyes that looked almost black too. There was something hawklike and fierce about him as if he were powered by a strongly controlled energy, more force than should have been stored in one man. She should have been afraid of him, but somehow she was not and this puzzled her. She had never been less afraid of any man.
“Why, Mr. McAllister,” she said, displaying a coolness she didn’t feel, “this is a surprise.”
For once in his life McAllister didn’t know what to say. He looked at her as if he had never seen a woman before. She looked abashed at his hard stare and lowered her eyes.
He settled his hat back on his head and forced himself to speak.
“I’m taken a-back, ma’am,” he said. “I had a mighty pretty speech prepared for the next time we met. Can’t think of a durned word of it now.”
She frowned.
“I have been thinking of what I would say to you, too,” she said. “I heard what my brother did to you.”
“That ain’t between you an’ me,” McAllister said.
“It’s between the Markhams and the three men who run the MC Connected. We owe them a debt and it can never be paid.”
McAllister smiled.
“I wouldn’t say that”
“How can it be?”
“There’s only one way a beautiful women can wipe any debt out.” McAllister ground-hitched his horse and walked around to the side of the buggy. The woman looked alarmed.
“Mr. McAllister, what do you mean?”
“It won’t kill you an’ it will wipe out any debt you owe me.”
“Mr. McAllister, you come near me and I’ll scream. The whole town will hear.” He put a foot on the buggy step. “You know how men act when a woman has been molested in this part of the country.”
McAllister went still.
“I ain’t about to molest you, ma’am,” he said. “The debt can only be paid if’n you molest me.”
The blush started in her white neck and ran swiftly to reach her black hair.
“You’re impertinent and coarse.”
“I’m a man and you’re a woman and nothin’ much else matters.” He took his foot off the step and turned toward his horses.
She said: “It’s in broad daylight on the open trail.”
“I ain’t ashamed to be seen a-kissin’ you. I’d be proud.”
“But what about me?”
“They’d say Markham’s sister was human after all.” He turned and smiled at her. “She is human, ain’t she?”
In a low voice, she said: “She’s human.”
“Prove it.”
She tied the reins with a slow and deliberate movement, stepped down from the buggy and came toward him. When she stood in front of him, he saw that she was taller than he thought. She lifted her eyes to him and he saw that at close quarters her eyes were unbelievably lovely. She was breathing quickly; her breasts moved and the movement made the blood pound in his temples. She stood on tiptoe, put her hands behind his neck and pulled his head down to hers.
The lips she placed on his were soft and cool like the petal of a spring flower. He expected passion to overtake him, but instead he experienced an overpowering tenderness toward her. Surprised, he thought: My God, this must be the real thing.
He didn’t press his luck. As soon as her mouth relaxed under his and when her hands tightened behind his neck, he released her grip on him and held her off. She looked at him in a defiant, frightened way, he smiled at her.
“Well,” she said, “does that prove I’m human?”
“It proves the Markham girls pay their family debts. This’ll prove if you’re human.”
He put his arms around her and pulled her gently to him. For a brief moment, she resisted him, then as his pressure continued, she at first relaxed against him and then, as his mouth swooped to hers and demanded more of her, her whole body arched to meet his.
For a while, they both lost all sense of time. When they came apart, they were panting unashamedly. For a moment, she was silent, then she showed anger.
“Well,” she snapped, “are you satisfied? What have I proven now?”
“That you’re not only human, you’re a wonderful woman.”
“Now you despise me.”
“Now I admire you more than ever.”
“You think I’m a woman who would let any man kiss her.”
“I think if another man so much as looked at you I’d nail his hide to the barn door.”
“You think I’m cheap - ”
McAllister said: “Would you marry me?”
That stopped her. She gazed at him out of wide eyes.
“You don’t mean that.”
“What’s the matter with you, woman? Don’t you believe any good of yourself?”
She turned away. In a low voice, she said: “I didn’t mean to start anything like this. You could get yourself killed.”
“Your brother.”
“And Foley. He’s wanted me for years. Ever since we were down in Texas, he’s wanted me. He’s a dangerous man. You think because you made a fool of him the other day he doesn’t amount to much. But he could kill you. I know what he’s capable of.”
He took her by the arms and turned her.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Foley or your brother or anybody but you an’ me,” he told her gently. “I’m courtin’ you an’ that’s all that matters.”
Her eyes were bright when she raised them to his.
“I believe you mean that.”
“Believe it like you never believed anything before. Just tell me I have a chance.”
She touched his face gently with her fingertips.
“You have a chance,” she whispered.
He kissed resoundingly. He laughed. He felt good. He felt ten years younger, like a green kid and he liked that.
“When will I see you again?” he asked.
“It’s too risky.”
“Do you ride?”
“Sometimes.”
“You know Squaw Canyon?” She nodded. “Meet me there mid-morning three days from now.” She nodded again eagerly. He walked her back to the buggy and helped her in. She leaned down and kissed him, taking his face between two cool hands to do so. He didn’t speak again, but walked to his horse, gathered up the trailing line and stepped into the saddle. Lifting a hand in farewell, he rode past her. She watched him go, smiling to herself, scared at what she had done, but knowing that she had never felt happier in her life. She watched him out of sight over the brow of the rise, then gathered up her own lines and drove on into town.
6
McShannon, his face ruddy in the firelight, asked: “Do you have a plan?”
McAllister said: “Sure.”
“What is it?”
“Win that race and play hell with Markham. He pays for our house and he goes on payin’ till he cries quits.”
Jack Owen said: “I don’t call that a plan. It’s a dream.”
“That’s all you’ll get out of me. Kiowa, get your horse saddled and let’s get outa here.”
Jack said: “Ain’t I comin’?”
“You stay here and get them horses in trim. We’ll be back in a day or two.”
Sarie said: “You two jaspers goin’ courtin’ again?”
McAllister laughed.
“Might do a little on the side,” he told her.
Jack snarled: “That ain’t fair. Don’t I get a chance?”
McAllister stood up and went off into the darkness to catch up his horse, saying: “Don’t be too eager, sonny, eager
ness never got a man anywhere with a woman.” McShannon followed him. They caught up their horses, saddled and bridled them, shoved their saddle-guns in the boots and got aboard. McShannon felt the excitement rise in him. He knew that there was action in the offing. He knew the signs with McAllister. They walked their horses past the fire, Jack and Sarie stared at them belligerently as they passed into the night.
They rode a mile in silence, coming down into a canyon and heading north, going at a steady trot when they reached the flat. The stars were bright, but there was no moon as yet.
McShannon, who was riding in the rear, pulled up alongside McAllister and asked: “Where we goin’?”
“Markham’s. Where else?”
McShannon thought and swallowed hard.
“There could be shootin’,” he said.
“We ain’t lookin’ for shootin’.”
“What are we lookin’ for?”
“Horses.”
“Hell, we ain’t liftin’ horses.
“We ain’t. We just goin’ to scatter all them lovely racers over the prairie. Them thoroughbreds spook easy. It’ll take Markham a coupla days to catch ’em.”
McShannon chuckled.
“He’ll sure be mad. Is that all we’re goin’ to do? Ain’t we goin’ to burn his barn or somethin’?”
“Not this trip.”
“Seems a long ride for a little trouble.”
“I’m doin’ a little courtin’ while I’m that way.”
“You made arrangements?”
“Yeah.”
“You dirty sidewinder. You’re courtin’ your gal an’ I’m ridin’ back into the hills on my lonesome.”
“That’s up to you, ain’t it? Your gal’s in the house there. All you have to do is go talk with her.”
McShannon choked. He let his horse slacken pace and fell back to the rear again to enjoy his seething hate for his partner. There was silence between them for the next hour. They came out of the canyon country and climbed the slow swell of the Markham range, hearing their horse’s hoofs swishing though the lush grass. They stopped at a creek to let their horses blow and drink. They rode on until they reached timber.
McAllister said: “We walk from here.”
They stepped down and led their horses forward. The night was still and silent. McShannon was laughing inside, thinking of what they were going to do to Markham and how he would spark the man’s daughter when it was all done. McAllister wasn’t laughing anywhere. It wasn’t a joke to him. He didn’t like big men who rode roughshod over smaller men, who dominated their worlds. The only big man he had ever met and admired was Kit Carson whom his father had known in the old days. Funny, though - Kit had been a tiny man physically. But he had been big in everything else. For pure courage and character nobody could ever have beaten Kit. But he had never bullied in his life. Why, McAllister asked himself, was it that only second-rate men got to the top? He smiled to himself wryly in the darkness. Up ahead was one man on a pinnacle who was going to tumble. Powerful men were not the only ones with pride.
Tough to Kill Page 5