“Damnation!” Raymond muttered as he went past her in the doorway, obviously annoyed at having been interrupted while teaching his latest live-in student.
“Amen,” Jenny responded sarcastically. “Ain’t it a shame?” After he went out the front door, she looked back at the young girl. “Come on, Blossom, you can go with me and help me in the kitchen. Maybe you’ll learn how to do somethin’ useful you can use after Raymond finishes with your spiritual trainin’.”
Raymond walked out on the front porch to find his deacons sitting their horses, awaiting him. “I suppose you’ve got some explanation for this,” he said to Cantrell.
“Ain’t no explanation to it,” Cantrell replied. “We went over to Parker’s place, and the blacksmith was right. It was that girl, Emma Wise, that run off. She was in a wagon with some old man and she had a hired gun ridin’ with ’em. He’s the one who shot Scofield. Scofield was fast, but that feller cut him down before Scofield cleared leather.”
“So he’s dead, I reckon,” Raymond said.
Cantrell seemed puzzled by the question. He shrugged and glanced toward the body laying across the saddle. “Oh, he’s dead, all right, there ain’t no doubt about that.”
“Not him, you idiot,” Raymond reacted angrily. “The hired gun, you killed him, I assume.”
“Oh . . . well, no, we didn’t kill him. We never had the chance. We was all kinda took by surprise when he beat Scofield, and that old feller with him had us covered with a double-barrel shotgun, and they had Parker with ’em, too.” He didn’t admit that Tom Parker wasn’t armed, but he thought it would sound more acceptable to make the odds even.
Raymond was visibly not pleased by his report. “So you just rode away with your dead man?”
“Well, like I said, they had us covered, front and behind. Me and Pete and Harley didn’t even have our guns out of the holster. If one of us had drawed, they coulda cut down all three of us. I know this ain’t the way you’d like to hear it, but we didn’t have no choice.”
“I hired you and your men to take care of things like this,” an irritated Raymond Butcher advised him. “Good money that comes from the toil of these people in my congregation. Now you’re telling me I wasted my money?”
“No, sir,” Cantrell quickly responded. “I told that feller that this ain’t the end of it. And we’re fixin’ to go back to see that hired gun, only this time we know what’s what. We won’t have no surprises this time. Right, boys?” Harley and Pete nodded casually. “Outta respect for Scofield, we thought we oughta bring his body back to bury him.” He paused then, but upon seeing the irritation still registering on Raymond’s face, he added, “Right after we reported to you, so you’d know what was goin’ on.”
Raymond was clearly not satisfied with Cantrell’s accounting of the incident at Tom Parker’s home. He was especially unhappy to find that a shooting had occurred at one of the homesteads. And to make it worse, one of his fearsome deacons was the victim. He felt it was important for the people in Butcher Bottom to know that it was costly for anyone who dared break any of his rules. “Here’s what I want you to do,” he finally instructed. “You go back out to Parker’s house. You either kill that gunman, or run him outta town, I don’t care which. Then you escort that woman, Emma Wise, and the old man with her out of my town and tell them you have orders to shoot to kill, if they ever come back.”
“Right,” Cantrell replied. “And what about Parker?”
“You can tell him that Sunday he and his wife will be asked to explain to their neighbors why they went against the rules of the church and welcomed a woman shunned by the church.” He started to turn to go back into the house but paused for one additional order. “And haul that corpse off somewhere and bury it.” He paused again. “Not in the church cemetery, somewhere else. He didn’t do the job he was hired to do, and I don’t want him in there with the faithful.”
“Yes, sir, Reverend,” Cantrell dutifully replied.
“Don’t you worry, we’ll take care of everything you said.” They backed their horses away from the porch and wheeled them toward the path. “You snake in the grass,” he mumbled as soon as he was out of earshot.
“We goin’ back out to Parker’s now?” Harley asked when they got back to the road.
“What are we gonna do about Scofield, Branch?” Pete asked.
Cantrell was anxious to settle with Perley for turning the tables on them, but he didn’t want to be hampered in any way by Scofield’s corpse. “We’d best take care of him first. We’ll take him back to the cabin and bury him, then go after that fast gun.”
“What are we gonna do about his belongin’s?” Harley wondered aloud.
“We’ll worry about that after we take care of the bastard that shot him,” Cantrell replied. That was the end of the discussion of Scofield’s possessions until they rode back to the small cabin Raymond let them use. A shallow grave was dug in no time at all, during which the discussion of Scofield’s possibles was renewed. It resulted in the dividing of their late partner’s wealth before they were in the saddle and on their way to Tom and Rachael Parker’s farm.
This time, when approaching the house, they dismounted and left their horses tied just before the curve in the path that would expose them to anyone watching from the house. With rifles ready, they waited until the light started to fade away behind the trees that lined the river a quarter mile away. When Cantrell thought it was dark enough, he said, “All right, let’s go hunt us up a gunslinger. Spread out some. I don’t wanna make it too easy on him if he does see us.” After they advanced a couple dozen yards closer to the house, Pete commented, “It’s awful dark in that house. There ain’t a lamp lit nowhere.” His observation caused his two partners to study their target more closely.
“It don’t look like there’s any smoke comin’ outta that chimney,” Harley said.
A moment later, Cantrell realized there were no horses in the corral and Parker’s wagon and the one the strangers arrived in were missing. He stood up straight from the crouch he had been in while they approached, to announce, “I swear, they’re not here, they’ve took off.” To prove it, he stepped out onto the path again and walked up to the house.
Inside, they saw the evidence of the hasty departure, in the form of discarded items of furniture and the disarray of a family choosing what was important and what was not. They poked around, looking at what items were deemed unnecessary until Pete asked, “Now what?”
“Whaddaya mean, now what?” Harley answered him. “They’ve just saved us the trouble of runnin’ ’em outta here. Ol’ Raymond oughta be happy, they’re gone, so he don’t have to worry about ’em no more.”
“That may be so,” Cantrell said. “But I aim to settle that little deal with that gunslinger. My guess is they’re headin’ out to some town, and there ain’t one within fifty miles of here. They can’t be gone from here long, and they’ll have to stop pretty soon if they’re gonna cook any supper and rest their horses. There ain’t but two ways outta here, and if they went south, the way they came in, they had to pass by the store. And Tuck mighta seen ’em.” When both of his partners showed no interest in going after them to shoot some hired gun who might shoot one of them instead, Cantrell went on. “He’s the one I’m goin’ after, but there’s other things worth goin’ after, too. There’s two wagons full of no tellin’ what, and won’t nobody give a damn what happened to them folks. They just pulled outta here and nobody’s gonna hear about ’em again.”
His comments caused Harley and Pete to exchange a quick glance. That opportunity was something that had not occurred to them. There was no telling what the two wagons might be carrying, maybe even money. If the woman named Emma could afford to hire a gunman, she might have a good amount of money. That alone was worth the trouble to find out. Another thought occurred to Harley, though. “There’s women and children to think about. Killin’ the men ain’t no problem with me, but I ain’t wantin’ to shoot them little girls and their mothers
. Hell, that one woman’s got a little baby.”
Cantrell thought about that issue for a few moments before responding. “I feel the same way you do, Harley. I ain’t wantin’ to shoot no women either—unless they’re shootin’ at me. And I don’t wanna shoot any children. After we take care of the three men and take what we want, we can leave the women with a wagon and a team of horses. They oughta make out all right. Hell, we might even leave ’em a couple of guns and some ammunition.”
That served to satisfy both of his partners’ consciences but led to a question from Pete. “What if they was to turn around and come back to Butcher Bottom?”
“I hope they do,” Cantrell replied emphatically, thinking about his job with Raymond. “’Cause I’m thinkin’ I’ve had about as much of the Reverend as I want. Summer’s comin’ on and I think it’s about time to get back to what we know best. We oughta find enough in those two wagons to give us a good start. How ’bout you boys, you had enough of the salvation business?” They were unanimous in agreement. “Good,” he said, “let’s go see Jeremy Tuck and see if they passed the store this evenin’.”
CHAPTER 7
The growing darkness made it a little more difficult, but both Perley and Possum were pretty sure they could find the very spot where the wagon was parked on the night before. They proved to be right, and Possum found the exact spot when he found the impressions left by the four wheels where the wagon had sat all night. They were only a few miles outside the boundaries of Butcher Bottom, but after the three men talked it over, they decided it best to camp there that night. It wouldn’t take much time to dig up the money Possum had buried there, but it was well past the time to be cooking supper. Rachael raised her concern about the possibility of being visited again by the deacons. That had also been of concern among the three men, but they decided they might be better able to defend themselves in the darkness with the wagons and the trees to protect them. While Rachael and the girls searched for wood, Perley talked with Tom and Possum about the possibility of an attack that night. Tom was understandably the most concerned. “I just know that damn Cantrell ain’t gonna let us get away from there clean, after you shot Scofield,” he said, then quickly added, “I ain’t sayin’ you had any choice, but we’d best get ready for him pretty quick.”
“You might be right,” Possum said. “That’s why I think it’s best to pull your wagon up here beside mine and we’ll build our fire between the wagons. Then we can tie the horses up on either end, build ourselves a little fort, just like the wagon trains did when the Injuns were runnin’ wild around here.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Perley said, “but I’d like to do a little something different. In the first place, I think we’ve got time to get supper, because I would expect Cantrell and his men will wait till they think we’re all asleep. Next, I don’t think it’s best for us to sleep between the wagons, so I think you and Tom need to take the women and children on the other side of this clump of trees to sleep. You know, Possum, where I took a bath, around the bend of the river. There’s pretty good cover on that riverbank and you could protect ’em there.”
“What are you gonna do?” Possum asked, not convinced that it was the best defense.
“I figure Cantrell doesn’t care that much if you folks leave,” Perley answered. “It’s me he wants. I’m the one who shot his man, so I oughta be the one waitin’ at the wagons for him. And another thing, let’s tie the horses on a rope line, off to the side over there.” He pointed to a small opening in the trees. “I don’t wanna take a chance on losin’ the horses, mine especially. Buck would never forgive me. If these jaspers found our horses in the way between the wagons they might start shootin’ ’em down to try to get a clear shot at us.”
“I don’t know, Perley,” Possum allowed. “It don’t seem right to leave you to take on the three of ’em all by yourself.”
“He’s right,” Perley,” Tom said. “Raymond calls them deacons, like they were members of his church, but everybody knows they’re nothin’ but hired guns he pays to be his policemen.”
“I’ll try to be careful not to get myself in a position I can’t get out of,” Perley insisted. The words “cow pie” came to his mind, but he continued. “If they start shootin’ up those wagons, it ain’t gonna be any place for the women and children to be. The main thing here is to keep them safe.” There was really no logic to argue that point, so the three agreed on Perley’s defense plan.
Tom got a fire started, so the women could cook some of the ham they had brought to go with the cornbread Rachael had baked the day before, and Possum got ready to go to work under the wagon with the shovel Perley returned to him. Although he had done a first-rate job of disguising the hole, he found the stick he had driven down in the middle of it with no trouble at all. “Looks like nobody ain’t bothered it,” he said, looking up to give Emma a reassuring grin. He hesitated, however, when Emma wondered if it wouldn’t be best to leave the money buried until they were ready to leave in the morning.
“If you dig it up tonight, you’ll put it in the wagon,” she said. “What if they somehow manage to run off with the wagon, or set it on fire?”
“That wouldn’t be too good,” Possum said, scratching his chin whiskers. “Maybe we’d best leave it in the ground. Won’t take no time a-tall to dig it up.”
When Perley took a coil of rope and walked to the opening in the trees to rig up a line between two trees to tie the horses to, Tom couldn’t help asking Possum a question. “Are you uncomfortable with his plan at all?” When Possum answered with a questioning expression, Tom said, “We’re gonna be around the bend, all of us, and leave Perley here, by himself, where the money is. Ain’t you worried a little bit that he might just dig up the money and run? And he’ll have all the horses, too.”
“Now, that is somethin’ to think about, ain’t it,” Possum replied with a smile. “Lemme put it this way, half that money buried here belongs to me, and I ain’t worried about him takin’ off with it.”
Tom studied the confident face of Possum Smith for a moment. “Well, I reckon if you ain’t worried, then neither am I, so let’s help him tie up the horses.” They walked over to the opening where Perley was stretching his rope out between two trees to make sure he had enough.
“Ain’t you gonna pull your saddle offa your horse?” Possum asked, noticing Buck standing nearby still saddled, which seemed unusual since it was always Perley’s habit to see to his horse’s comfort before doing anything else. He couldn’t help grinning when he glanced at Tom and saw the sudden look of concern on the young man’s face. He was no doubt thinking about the discussion he just had with him.
“No,” Perley answered. “I think I might take a little ride back the way we came, while the women are cookin’ supper. I just wanna take a look in case I’m wrong about Cantrell and his boys and they come after us sooner than I think.”
Possum was in favor of that idea, so he and Tom took over the care of the horses while Perley stepped up into the saddle and guided Buck back toward the road. When he reached it, he turned the big bay horse toward Butcher Bottom, holding him to a gentle lope while he peered ahead as far as he could see on the dark river road. He was counting on being able to spot the deacons before they spotted him. He rode what he figured to be about halfway back to Butcher Bottom with no sign of anyone coming toward him. Reluctant to ride any closer to Tuck’s Store, he decided to pull off the road when he came to a small knoll that looked like it might be a good spot for a lookout. There were a couple of runty trees on top, and he could sit there in the dark without being easily seen from the road.
It was a pleasant night, perfect for just about anything except what he was doing. John and Rubin are probably wondering what the hell I’m doing, he thought. Well, I stepped in another one, John. He brought his mind back to concentrate on the road. Over his shoulder, he caught sight of a full moon, just visible over the hills on the far horizon. That’s going to be a beauty, he thought. He wasn�
��t sure how long he sat there, but when the moon had clearly risen free of the hills, he figured Cantrell was not coming until late, as he suspected. That meant the folks back at the wagons should have plenty of time to finish up supper and walk back around the bend of the river. He had to admit that he was enjoying his perch atop the knoll, so he was reluctant to mount up and head back. But he was hungry, so he climbed back into the saddle and guided Buck down to the road again. As he rode, he again wondered if he was totally wrong. Cantrell and his men might not have any notions to come after them. He shook his head and told himself he was right, Cantrell would come late tonight.
“I was startin’ to wonder if you were comin’ back,” Emma greeted him when he returned to the wagons. “You must be hungry. I saved you a couple of pieces of cornbread and some ham.”
“Much obliged,” Perley replied. “I could sure use some.” He stepped down and led Buck to the river after pulling his saddle off.
Possum walked with him, cradling his rifle on one arm. “Good thing you hollered before you came ridin’ in,” he said. “You was gone longer’n I expected and I was fixin’ to shoot the first rider that showed up. Looks like those boys are comin’ later tonight, right?”
“I still think that, but it’s just my opinion, for whatever that’s worth,” Perley replied. “I don’t think Cantrell is gonna let me off with killin’ one of his men. And unfortunately for you folks, this is where he expects to find me.”
“I still ain’t so sure it’s a good idea for you to stay here and wait for those jaspers by yourself,” Possum said, sounding genuinely worried. “If they get on both sides of this camp, they might make it so hot, you won’t be able to stick your head up, much less shoot back.”
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