by Ben Boulden
“What happens before the ceremony?” Father Pacheco asked.
“I don’t know,” Jed said.
Father Pacheco glanced at Kate uneasily. A grimace on his face.
“I hope he hasn’t hurt that girl.”
“The only thing we can do is get her out, Joseph,” Kate said. Then she turned to Jed, “Which one is your father’s room?”
“His is the top floor window closest to the pond.”
“It’s lighted?”
“Yes,” Jed said.
CHAPTER 26
The woman cleared her throat. “My name,” she said. “My name is Emma Skousen.”
“I’m glad to meet you Emma,” J.D. said. He pushed himself to his knees and then to his feet. His head hurt so bad he was certain it would never stop. His wrists raw beneath the cast iron handcuffs. “I need to get these off.” He held out his hands toward the shadow of the woman. “Would you help me?”
“Yes, sir,” Emma said.
Then Emma took a few more steps and J.D. saw a slight woman. A white bonnet on her head. A dark, maybe red or purple, loose-fitting pioneer dress a few decades out of fashion. Its hem touched the dirt. She pulled her hand from a hidden pocket, a burnished metallic gleam caught the silvery light of the barn’s windows. “I—” Emma stuttered. “I have the key.”
“You have the key?” J.D. said. “Where were you twenty minutes ago?”
Emma hesitated. J.D. could see her open and then close her mouth.
“But damn, I’m glad to see you now,” J.D. said.
“Yes, sir.” J.D. could hear Emma’s breathing, but nothing else.
“Well?”
“I—I’m sorry?”
“I could walk over there. But I’m afraid that might spook you. Would you come over here and let me loose?”
Emma giggled; walked towards J.D. The bronze key in her right hand, arm outstretched as though she held something filthy or, J.D. thought, even vulgar. J.D. reached towards her, palms down, tried to be as non-threatening as he could muster.
Emma stopped a few feet away. Leaned forward, the key in her right hand. She tossed it to J.D., who surprised himself with a lucky grab. It was a stubby little thing, fitted nicely in his palm. Its coolness comfortable on his skin.
“Thank you,” J.D. said. Then quickly slotted the key in its hole. The internal locking mechanism released with a hard click and the cuff thumped satisfyingly to the ground. The other cuff followed. J.D.’s wrists prickled with white hot pain as blood flowed into his wrists and hands.
“Thank God,” J.D. said. Then, conscious of the woman’s presence. “Sorry, ma’am. It’s been a helluva—heck—heckuva few days. Being rid of those handcuffs makes me want to shout to heaven.”
Emma stepped closer to J.D. “Can I have the key back?”
J.D. placed it in her hand. She was younger than he had supposed. Only a girl, J.D. thought.
“You one of Skousen’s wives?” J.D. tried to keep his voice mild.
“Yes, sir.” She bowed her head slightly.
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” she said.
“Jesus.”
The girl visibly flinched at the blasphemy.
“I’m sorry, Emma. My mouth is usually ahead of my brain.” J.D. paused a moment. “You said something about needing help?”
Emma nodded. “Yes, sir.”
J.D. waited. When Emma didn’t continue he said, “I’m here to retrieve Adalina Fernandez.”
“That’s what Sister Jensen said.” Emma spoke in a whisper. “She thought you’d take me along when you leave. I have family in Washington City. And since you’re taking Beth one more wouldn’t be a hindrance.”
J.D. grimaced. An easy job, he thought. A couple train robbers. A payday. No problem at all.
“Why do you want to leave?”
J.D. couldn’t see Emma’s eyes in the dark, but he could feel her staring at him.
“Dumb question, I guess,” J.D. said. “Since I can’t imagine any half-sane woman wanting to stay.”
Emma giggled again. It sounded juvenile, like a girl. A girl who should be swinging on her parents’ front porch, waiting for a farm boy dressed in his Sunday best to come courting.
“Not sure I want to ask, but anybody else planning to come with us?”
“No.”
“What about Sister Jensen?”
“She would never leave Brother Jensen,” Emma said.
“Her husband?”
“Yes.”
“I see,” J.D. said. “You wouldn’t know where Adalina is, would you?”
Emma nodded. Then J.D. saw a brief flash of white that he imagined as a smile.
“Would you tell me?”
Emma nodded again. Stepped close enough to touch J.D.’s arm. “She’s in the house.”
“It’s a big house.”
Emma smiled again. The flash of white lasted longer this time. “I’m sorry. I’m so nervous. I’ve never been good in situations like this.”
“You often find yourself in a barn with a stranger in chains? After dark, no less?”
The girl squirmed, squeezed J.D.’s forearm.
“You’re a silly man,” Emma said. Then she explained where Levi Skousen kept his latest prize. As she described the room, J.D. thought of it as the despoiling place. A word Kate had taught him a few weeks ago. And a word she would be pleased he remembered.
Emma jumped.
Then squealed.
A rifle shot thundered. Pain sparked in J.D.’s ears. The shooter was close. J.D. crouched, stayed on his feet, scanned the dark confines of the barn. He saw only the shadowy forms of tables, tack, tools in the vague silvery moonlight.
Another shot erupted. Then several more, fired so closely together they sounded like a single, extended crackling boom.
Emma sobbed. J.D. pulled her down next to him, put his arm around her shoulder. A tremor cascaded across her back. Her breathing shallow with fear.
“It’s okay,” J.D. said. “But we need to find Adalina.”
Confused shouting raged outside the barn. A single, long whistle, attempted to bring silence.
“The barn’s not safe,” J.D. said. “They’ll come checking on me if that shot’s what I think it is.”
Emma looked straight at J.D. “You know who’s shooting?”
J.D. grinned. “I sure do.”
CHAPTER 27
Kate stayed deep in the shadows along the base of the canyon wall, moved soundlessly towards the scattered buildings. She held the Winchester away from her body, right hand gripping the stock, index finger firmly against the trigger guard. Her left hand clasped the rifle’s forestock. She took a step, scanned the area, taking another step only when satisfied no one watched. She progressed slowly, every so often she heard the scrape of canvas on stone as a tired guard shifted his weight in the rocks above. Behind her Father Pacheco and Jed Skousen followed, keeping enough distance to make an ambush difficult.
Twenty minutes passed, thirty. Cold sweat dripped uncomfortably down Kate’s side. The barn grew larger with each step until Kate stood near its shadow. Her approach flawless, the night silent except for animal noises. The hoot of an owl, the restless bawling of cattle. When she reached the barn Kate melted into the shadowy rocks. She waited several minutes for Father Pacheco to arrive and then Jed. Without speaking, she motioned to a dark path cutting behind the barn and then on to the house. She looked at Jed, who shook his head.
He leaned close to Kate, whispered in her ear, “We’ll be seen.” He straightened, pointed into the shadows along the base of the canyon walls. “Stay tight to the sandstone until you reach—” Jed stopped suddenly. He brought a hand to his chest, grimaced with frightened pain. His mouth opened, closed. He gasped for air between tight lips, breath whistled, rattled in his throat, punctured the valley’s silence like a cracking whip.
A scraping sound, leather on stone. A Metallic click. A harsh, nervous intake of air. The noises came from above and by thei
r volume, Kate thought, the man was no more than feet away. She moved more on instinct than any organized plan. First, she pushed Jed backwards onto the ground, raspy breath whooshing when he hit. Second, Kate jumped to her left, took four running steps and hustled behind a free standing rock. Third, she pulled the Winchester to her shoulder, aimed at the rock face thirty feet above the valley floor.
Kate squinted hard at the spot where the sounds had originated, a darkened lip of rock clawed from the cliff’s face. It huddled in shadow making it difficult for Kate to measure its depth. A perfect platform for a sentry to keep watch over the cluttered buildings. Kate saw nothing. No movement. No target. The noise of Jed’s asthmatic breathing quieted. For a moment Kate thought, hoped, she had imagined the sounds.
White hot flame licked down from the rock ledge, stretched twenty feet end to end. Its explosion echoed thunderously across the valley. Jed shrieked, sobbed with pain.
Kate shifted the Winchester a few inches, aimed at the spot where the shot had been fired from, squeezed the trigger. The bullet’s violent expulsion pushed the rifle back into Kate’s shoulder, yellow flame burst from the barrel, the concussive explosion pounded her ears with a flat aching pain. She ejected the spent casing, chambered a fresh round with a quick flip of the rifle’s lever. Fired again. Then quickly put three more shots into the shadowy porch.
The man tumbled from the rock shelf. His mouth wide as if shouting, but no sound came. His head met the hard canyon floor with the soft sound of melon falling from a wagon. A harder thump as his body folded into itself on impact, then a clatter as his rifle bounced off a rock.
Kate retreated several yards, moved towards the back corner of the barn. She kept her head up, looked for more targets. She could hear Jed whimpering above the ringing in her ears. In the distance a man shouted indistinctly and the night began to awaken with the sounds of men scurrying to or from danger.
“Father Pacheco?” Kate yelled.
“I’m here!”
Kate saw the priest the moment he spoke, kneeling in the dirt next to Jed. His hands busy applying pressure to the boy’s shoulder.
“Jed’s been hit!” Father Pacheco said.
“I know,” Kate said. “You have to move, Joseph! There will be more men coming.”
Father Pacheco bent down and helped Jed to his feet. Then, supporting Jed with his left arm, they took two hesitant steps towards the barn. Jed’s breathing thickened with pain. He gasped.
Father Pacheco said something Kate couldn’t hear. Jed nodded. They rested for a moment and then took another awkward step. Jed’s knees visibly shook, then surrendered completely. Father Pacheco tried to hold him steady, but Jed crumpled to the ground with a hard impact. He hit with a thump, pain escaped him with a harsh animal cry. Father Pacheco kneeled at his side, helped him roll onto his back.
“Leave me,” Jed said.
Father Pacheco shook his head no. “I can’t.” His voice a whisper. He stood, staggered as he attempted to pull Jed first to his knees and then his feet. The two men fell back into the dirt. Jed cried out with pain. Father Pacheco cursed.
Kate put a bead on a man running fast towards them, a rifle in his left hand, fired once. Twice. The man lost his footing, stumbled, bounced hard on his belly. He didn’t move, make a sound. Kate watched him for a moment. When satisfied he was dead, she stood and cautiously moved towards her two companions. It took her only a few seconds to reach the men.
“Where are you hit?”
“Sh…shoulder,” Jed whispered.
“The left side,” Father Pacheco said.
“Help me get him to the barn.” Kate’s eyes never stopped scanning the night as she spoke.
When the two were in position around Jed, Father Pacheco on one side, Kate on the other, they pulled him awkwardly to his feet. Wheezing pain escaped his lips.
“It’s okay,” Father Pacheco said. “You’ll be fine.”
Jed tried to nod, but only managed the downward motion of his head.
“Okay,” Kate said. “Ready?”
“Go,” Father Pacheco said.
Kate and the priest walked the boy towards the back corner of the barn. Fifty feet of open land between it and them. Its monolithic shape, towering and angular, saturated white with moonlight. It was slow, terrifying work. The valley erupted into noise and chaos all around. The chaotic atmosphere protected them, but Kate knew it was a matter of minutes, perhaps seconds before order was regained. And if they weren’t ready when it arrived their luck would be all bad.
Kate heard the footsteps. Then looked over her shoulder, saw the two men running directly at them. Both carried long guns and any second one or the other would realize they were within shooting range on this bright night.
“Take Jed!” Kate said to Father Pacheco. She dropped the rifle from her left hand, ducked out from beneath Jed’s arm and smoothly pulled the Colt from its holster. The men, seeing Kate’s reaction, separated away from each other. The one to Kate’s left dropped to one knee, pulled his rifle to his shoulder and fired. Dirt flew a few feet to Kate’s left. She brought the big revolver up, pulled the trigger. The .44-40 slug crashed into the man’s chest, pushed him back off his feet. He hit with a thud, bounced once and then lay still.
Kate turned back to where the other man had veered away. She couldn’t see him. There were few places to hide in the open landscape and a stray feeling of panic crawled up her spine. Where is he, she thought. Where did he go?
The churning of boots on dirt came from behind Kate. Her heart skipped. Air caught in her throat with fear and disgust. Disgust that she had allowed the man to get behind her. Kate spun to her left, dived towards the ground trying to make herself as difficult a target as she could, pulled her right hand up. The Colt leveled on its target.
“Kate!” the shadowy figure yelled. His voice familiar. “It’s me!”
Kate hit the ground hard. Settled into a prone position, eased her finger off the trigger, but kept the Colt sighted on the approaching man.
“J.D.?”
J.D. rushed past her without speaking. Picked up Kate’s abandoned rifle, pivoted back to his right. Sighted down its barrel. Pulled the trigger. Its sharp report mingled with a bloody scream before it retreated to leave the man’s dying words alone with the night.
“What took you so long?” J.D. said as he turned back to Kate. A smile on his face.
“And here I thought I moved pretty damn quick,” Kate said. “After that premature stunt you pulled back in Small Basin. You’re lucky I came at all!”
“That’s what I like about you, Kate.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re so dependable.”
“I’ve always wondered,” Kate said.
“A few other things, too.” J.D. came in close, took Kate in his arms, kissed her softly on the mouth.
“I bet I can guess what those ‘few other things’ are,” Kate said.
“Probably.”
CHAPTER 28
The chaotic noise of the valley seemed to abate as J.D. and Father Pacheco helped Jed to the barn. The small doorway yawned outward, Emma held it open.
“Jed?” Emma said. A catch in her voice. “Are you? —Is he?”
“Fine. He’ll be fine,” Father Pacheco said. “Would you find a place for him to lie down?”
Emma disappeared into the barn’s dark interior. In a few seconds she whispered loudly, “Over here!”
J.D. and Father Pacheco carried Jed across the barn, found Emma next to a high stack of baled hay. The first row only two bales high; each subsequent row stepped higher until reaching the barn’s rafters.
“Will this do?” Emma said.
“It’s perfect,” J. D said. “Would you help him sit down?”
Emma reached out, took Jed’s right hand. When Jed was securely between Emma and Father Pacheco, J.D. moved away. He nervously tightened his hand on Kate’s Winchester, watched as the wounded man sat. Then Emma swung Jed’s legs onto the hay. Father Pach
eco carefully lowered him onto his back.
“Do you have a gun, Father?” J.D. knew the old priest didn’t have a rifle on his person. He hoped a revolver was strapped to his hip.
“Yes,” Father Pacheco said. “Kate gave me your rifle.”
“Mine?” J.D. said. “Where is it?”
“The door,” Father Pacheco said. “Just outside the barn door.”
J.D. handed the priest Kate’s Winchester. “Shoot anyone who isn’t me or Kate.”
“I will.”
J.D. didn’t wait for anything more to be said. He advanced to the barn’s rear door where Kate waited just outside. Her Colt held waist high ready for action. His Winchester stood where Father Pacheco left it. J.D. picked the rifle up. Checked the magazine for a live round by opening the breech with the rifle’s lever; satisfied he closed it with a smooth click.
“You look happier than an old lady knitting,” Kate said.
J.D. grinned. “I like the weight.”
“Sure you do,” Kate said. “My rifle weighs exactly the same.”
“Yeah,” J.D. said. “But it’s yours. This one—” he bounced the rifle’s forestock in the palm of his left hand. “Is mine. And it feels different.”
“Hmm. Boys and guns, I guess.”
“Trade it for your Colt?”
“No way.”
“Why not?”
“Well,” Kate said, a shapely smile on her face. “The Colt’s mine. And I don’t trust that old rifle of yours. Anyway, I take better care of my stuff.”
“Sure,” J.D. said.
The man-made night sounds continued to fade. The earlier chaos melted into shouts of order. “Yes, sir!” and “Where, sir?” and “Over here, sir!” the most common. A few shouts bounced off the canyon walls, echoed across the valley making the enemy’s numbers seem infinite. One of the shouts made Kate pause.
“Check the house!” It cracked across the valley like thunder in a storm.
Kate looked at J.D. “They know where we’re going.”
“Doesn’t matter,” J.D. said.
Then another voice. Familiar, but unexpected, said, “Sure it does.”