Ambushed: The Continued Adventures of Hayden Tilden (Hayden Tilden Westerns Book 4)

by J. Lee Butts

  Billy stared at the girl’s damp eyes and said, “You reckon I should stay here with her, Hayden? She ain’t in no real good state of mind, from all appearances.”

  I glanced at Carlton for guidance. He shrugged his approval. “I’d bet Dawson and his bunch are gone by now. Two of us and Snake can take care of whatever we find. Probably a good idea for Billy to stay with the girl, Hayden. Should any stragglers be skulking around, she’ll need protection.”

  So that’s the way we played it. Carl, me, and our newly acquired Comanche drifter spread out about ten yards apart and moved slowly through almost waist-high prairie grass. Even though it was the middle of the morning, the wheat-colored stuff was still heavy with dew down close to the ground—soaked our legs and boots.

  We came up on the house from the south. Prairie had been cleared away from the building, and we stepped into a well-kept circle at least forty yards from the front entrance. Chills and chicken flesh ran up and down the back of my neck. Overpowering smell from the recent fire gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  Bet we hadn’t gone five steps when I realized we should have spent a little more time looking the situation over before making a move. ’Bout the time the blasting started, I remember thinking as how we just might have blithely walked into an ambush. Sweet Jesus, that day taught me a hard lesson. Always trust your gut when times are tough. Bastards had laid a brutal trap. First bullet sizzled through the sleeve of my shirt and scorched a path across the hide on my upper arm before I could even react. Next one took my hat off. Way beyond fortunate it wasn’t my head.

  Then all hell broke loose. Seemed as though Satan himself had personally opened the front gate to the fiery pit and said, “Come on in, boys. I’ve been a-waiting for you.”

  5

  “WELL, CAN I KILL HIM LATER?”

  HOT LEAD BORED through the smoke-laden air like angry hornets and fell around us like blistering hailstones. Heard Carlton let out a sickly-sounding grunt as he grabbed at his side and went down on one knee. Dodged from side to side as I ran for the shelter of the ranch’s wooden well housing. Dove for safety. Hit the ground hard at the same time Carlton stumbled up and landed beside me.

  “You hit?” I yelled over the deafening roar of gunfire.

  He held a bloody hand up in my face and yelped, “Son of a bitch knocked a nice-sized chunk out of my side. Had his aim been a little farther over toward my middle, I’d of saddled a cloud and rode off for the Great Beyond.”

  Grabbed the front of his shirt and rudely jerked him toward me. Snatched the tail out of his pants and eyeballed the wound. He had a nasty-looking black-rimmed hole in the fleshy part of his right side, inch or so above the waist of his pants. Wound oozed dark blood that had already soaked his shirt. Fortunately, in spite of all the liquid he was leaking, the crevice didn’t appear to have done any real serious permanent damage.

  A wall of heavy-caliber bullets splintered boards, sent dust flying, and made vicious splattering noises on every side of our shelter. Well bucket flew to pieces and landed on top of our heads in a shower of rendered wood and clanging metal bands. Blasting bordered on the thunderous.

  “You see what happened to Crazy Snake?” I yelled.

  “He headed for the water trough by the corral, over here on the east side. Don’t know for sure if he made it, though. Was too busy trying to figure out if I was dead or not. Did you notice anything suspicious, or out of the way, when we were walkin’ up, Hayden?”

  “Didn’t spot a thing out of the ordinary. Sons of bitches were well hidden, I’ll give ’em that. I must admit to a creeping sense of impending doom when we stepped out of the tall grass into this open spot, though.”

  “Same with me. Knew it didn’t feel right, but couldn’t put my finger to the problem. Damn, but these ole boys are pepperin’ our asses good.”

  “For all the lead they’ve thrown, I think you’re the only one who got hit. Mighty poor shooting on their part, if you ask me.”

  Tried to get a peek at who was shelling the hell out of us. Blasting intensified every time I moved and the slightest part of me got exposed. Tiny well house barely offered enough cover to keep us alive. We sat with our backs pressed against it and legs drawn up to our chins.

  Tried to pull myself into a tighter knot as I said, “This keeps up they’ll chew our protection to shreds—and right soon.”

  Carl stuffed a bandanna into the cavity in his side, groaned, and said, “Hell, nobody can keep a torrent of lead like this going for very long.”

  “You get a count on ’em?”

  “Sounds like four to me, but could be more—maybe five. Damn, Hayden, this here hole them sneaky jaspers put in me hurts,” he said, and groaned again.

  Of a sudden, I heard shots coming from behind us and to the west. Carl said, “It’s Billy Bird. God help ’em now.”

  Our friend darted from spot to spot in the tall grass and ripped off shot after shot at our hidden tormentors. Gunfire directed at Carl and me shifted Billy’s direction. Gave us a chance to offer up some resistance for the first time. Soon all three of us were pumping lead back at those who’d laid for us in ambush. The tide quickly began to shift our direction as talented marksmen put down a stream of hot return fire.

  I noticed that sweet Billy showered a position behind one of the only remaining portions of the burned house that still stood. A heavy, seared, and splintered front entrance door remained erect, held up by what was left of the rendered frame. One of the gunmen, who had taken refuge behind it, switched from side to side, spraying us with well-placed rifle fire. Billy’s Schofields couldn’t penetrate the thick wood, but my .45-70 could.

  When the blasting from our opponents swung Billy’s direction, and then began to die down dramatically, I rolled to my side and riddled the thick door with half-a-dozen massive slugs. Heard a screech of agony on the third shot, but added a few more just for good measure. ’Bout then, all the shooting completely stopped, and horses thundered out of the trees behind what was left of the burned-out shell of a house. Billy took out after them on foot, and threw up a running curtain of lead that showered their retreat.

  Stood and spotted Crazy Snake, on the ground a bit ahead and to my right, wrestling around on the ground with another man. I yelled, “Don’t move, Carl. I’ll be back.”

  Not much strength left in his voice when he whimpered, “Ain’t goin’ nowheres. Not sure I can even stand.”

  Darted toward the fight and got there just in time to grab Snake’s war-ax-filled hand and stop him from killing his opponent. The man Snake held down was screaming like a gut-shot panther. He could see his own death written in the face of the angry Indian sitting on his chest.

  “No,” I shouted. “We need to talk to him.”

  Big half-breed’s strength went beyond anything I’d confronted in a spell. Took all I could do to keep him from burying his ax in the terrified man’s thick skull. Didn’t relax my grip as I pulled him away. Outlaw let out a sigh of relief that sounded like the man’s last breath amongst the living.

  Both men sucked air like winded racehorses. Crazy Snake shoved the handle of the ax under his pistol belt and said, “Well, can I kill him later? Bastard would’ve shot me dead if I hadn’t grabbed the barrel of his rifle when I did. He was hiding behind this pile of fence rails, Marshal. If he’d managed to kill me, you boys would have found yourselves in a deadly cross fire.”

  “You fight him the whole time all that blasting was going on?”

  “Hell, yes. He’s one strong son of a bitch. Went on so long, his friends must have given up on him killing me. They started shooting at both of us like it didn’t matter if they rubbed him out too. Wrestled him around on this side to get out from under their guns. Had begun to think he had the best of me. Murderous son of a bitch damn near wore me out. Guess I’m gonna have to stop all my promiscuous drinking. Not good for my endurance.”

  Wrung-out drygulcher on the ground had fought for his life for so long, he kind of sh
rank up in exhaustion. Kicked him in the ribs and snapped, “Get up. Not gonna be any sympathy for you here today.” He clawed his way to wobbly knees and used the pile of lumber to lever himself to a standing position. I jerked his gun belt off and pitched it to Crazy Snake. Snatched his shirttail out and patted him over for other weapons.

  “What’s your name, mister?” I asked.

  “Watt Sims,” he grumbled.

  “Ah, you must be the seventh, and unknown, member of this bunch of killers. Where’s your pistol, Watt?” I snapped.

  “Hell if I know. Big Indian son of a bitch knocked it out of my hand. Fell over yonder by the fence somewheres.”

  Snake pulled the steel-headed war ax from his belt and shook it in the brigand’s face. “Call me a son of a bitch again, you son of a bitch, and I’ll split your skull like a ripe melon, whether this high-minded marshal wants me to or not. Then I’ll decorate these fence rails with your worthless guts.”

  Feisty outlaw snorted, “Come over here with that thing again and I’ll shove it up your ass sideways. Twist it till you holler.”

  Crazy Snake’s lips peeled back in a snarl. He shoved the ax into his belt again, threw his head back, and before I could stop him, pulled his pistol and shot part of the man’s ear off.

  Never heard such screaming in my entire life. You’d of thought someone had ripped Sims’s entire head loose from his shoulders and set his feet on fire at the same time. He hopped around the stack of fence rails, slinging blood in every direction as he went. Crazy Snake laughed like it was the funniest display he’d ever witnessed. Held his sides and stooped over like he might pass out.

  Billy came running from behind the house. “What the hell’s going on now?” he yelled.

  Snake holstered his pistol. “Oh, nothing. Simply a much-needed lesson for this ambushin’ skunk in good manners and how to be properly respectful of his betters.”

  Ear-shot desperado held a bloody hand over the side of his head and yelped, “Kiss my ass, you red devil.”

  Billy laughed. “Don’t think he learned much from havin’ a piece of his ear shot off, Snake.”

  “Well, I just might have to take off something he values a lot more, next time. What do you say, Billy? Think maybe I should shoot his pecker off?” Half-breed gent flashed a menacing grin, fingered the grip of his pistol, and looked right serious.

  Bushwhacker’s face screwed up in terror as he grabbed his crotch and turned sideways. “No. Now you marshals cain’t let that happen. Ain’t right, by God. He’s done took a chunk o’ my ear. Now he’s talkin’ ’bout shootin’ off somethin’ far more important. Just ain’t right, by God.”

  Decided I’d best put a stop to the sport before it got out of hand. “That’s enough, Snake. We’re gonna need to talk with this joker later. Billy, you keep an eye on him. Snake, you look to Carl. He’s got a hole in his side. I’ll check on the one behind the door. Think maybe he’s dead.”

  Billy kicked clods around on the ground. “Well, whatever you do, Hayden, don’t let Moonlight get up here and see what’s hanging from the trees out back.”

  Crazy Snake’s glance darted to the tall, blackened collection of cottonwoods behind the smoldering wreck of a house. The rise and fall of the property made it impossible for us to see much from where we stood. I could tell from Billy’s face and demeanor none of us marshals probably wanted to see what he’d found, either.

  As if to himself, Snake said, “Thought I smelled people cookin’.”

  “Her folks back there?” I asked.

  “Both of ’em.” Billy pointed toward the center of the stand. “Somebody nailed ’em up to those two biggest trees in the middle. Nasty sight, Hayden. Gotta get ’em down afore she see ’em. They’re a bit on the crispy side, as well. Not burnt completely up, but on the way. Maybe we can clean ’em up some, wrap ’em in blankets or somethin’ first. No need for the girl to be left with an image of her parents like I just seen.”

  “No, there’s not,” I agreed. Waved my rifle at the wounded outlaw and said, “Come with us. Since you probably helped hang these folks up, you can take ’em down.”

  “I didn’t have nothin’ to do with that atrocity. Hell, I tried to stop him. Made me sick the first time I seen him go and pull that gruesome trick back down the trail a ways.”

  “Who? Who’re you talking about?” Billy snapped.

  “Yeah, Sims. Who’re you talking about?” I repeated.

  “Nobody. Nobody. Misspoke myself. I wasn’t here when those poor people got nailed up and set on fire. Don’t know nothin’ ’bout it.”

  So fast I couldn’t imagine it happening, Crazy Snake darted to Watt Sims’s side, grabbed his hand, laid it on the pile of fence rails, and chopped off two of his fingers. My God, but folks back in Fort Smith must have heard the wailing.

  Billy chased Sims around for most of a minute before he was able to slap a piece of rag over the nubs. When he finally got the blood-spurting wounds plugged up, a red-faced Billy Bird turned on Crazy Snake like a tied panther and snapped, “Goddammit, we won’t have any more of that kind of brutality. You understand me? Make another move like that and you’ll have to deal with me.”

  Crazy Snake grinned like a fat raccoon that’d just found a big juicy crawdad in a creek. Calm as could be, he said, “Ask him again, Marshal Bird. Ask him who nailed these poor folks to them trees again.”

  Billy turned on Sims. “Who did it, Watt?”

  “Charlie Storms,” he yelped. “Crazy son of a bitch done them others, too. Him and Dawson got together and they’re a sight to behold. Both of ’em done gone to actin’ like they’s addled in their thinker boxes.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Now, they done went and caused me to lose two fingers, and an ear as well.”

  Snake’s grin got larger. “See? All it takes when you want a little information is the speedy application of the appropriate persuasion applied at just the right time.”

  “Maybe so,” I said. “But it ain’t our way. Don’t do it again. Anything like this happens again, if Billy doesn’t get you, I will.”

  Grin bled away from Snake’s curled lips. He snorted in disgust and stomped over to check on Carl. Man mumbled about silly white men the whole time he worked on Cecil’s most recently acquired bullet hole.

  Billy turned his anger on Sims. “You’d best not be lyin’ to us, you murderin’ son of a bitch.”

  “Ain’t lyin’. Swear to Jesus. You know how it is. Two fellers go along doin’ this or that. Nothin’ real special or bad. One day they hook up, then it’s Katie bar the door. That’s what I mean about Dawson and Storms. Apart, they’re bad enough. Together, those two are a living nightmare. We ’uz all afeared of ’em. ’Fraid they ’uns might kill us if’n we didn’t go along for the ride.”

  Billy stomped away shaking his head and mumbling to himself. He waved a limber hand at Sims dismissively. “That’s a total load of manure. Ain’t no excuse for this kind of murderous behavior. Fear of the men doin’ it’s the worst of all justifications.”

  Sims didn’t like it one bit, and I have to admit it was something of a problem with his hand all chopped up the way it was, but I made him pull Jonas Two Hatches and his wife down. We cleaned them poor much-abused folks’ bodies up as best we could. Paid special attention to their faces. They didn’t look all that bad once Billy got them wrapped in blankets and ready for burial.

  Miss Moonlight took it about as well as could be expected. Think the girl had already got herself prepared for the absolute worst possible outcome. Thank God, we’d managed to soften the blow a bit. She wept some, but not as much as I thought she might. Girl kissed her mother’s cheek before we put the body in the ground. Child quietly talked to her unhearing father for almost ten minutes before she would let us take him. Sad thing to witness. Had a profound effect on all of us.

  Billy requested that I read a passage from Shakespeare to comfort the girl. He suggested a piece from Julius Caesar that I’d used many times before. So I read from Act II, Scen
e ii, “When beggers die, there are no comets seen; the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, it seems to me most strange that men should fear; seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.” We covered those poor murdered people up and left their daughter to grieve over them in private.

  Dead outlaw behind the door turned out to be none other than Harvey Crowder. Moonlight wouldn’t allow us to bury him anywhere near her parents. Can’t see how anyone would have blamed her for such an attitude. So, we carried ole Harvey’s corpse about half a mile away from the ranch. Scratched a shallow hole in the ground under a big poplar tree and covered him up. No fine words for that bushwhacking swine.

  Sims sat near Carlton when the outlaw mumbled, “Better hope his brother Buck don’t catch any of you lawdogs out in the open. Buck’s damn near as bad as Dawson. Once he finds out y’all done went and kilt his baby brother, ain’t no tellin’ what he might become.” He fingered the bloody bandage on his hand. “Man has an evil temper. I seen him chop a feller’s head off with a double-bit ax once. By God, he got my attention. Kept my distance from then on.”

  Carl said, “Why don’t you stop whining. You could have got away from Dawson, and the rest of ’em, anytime you wanted, but didn’t. You’re just as guilty as the worst of ’em. Judge Parker’s gonna hang your sorry self. Best make up your mind to it.”

  Well, that sobered Sims up considerable. Man didn’t have much else to mouth off about. Can’t say his surly silence bothered any of us much.

  By the next morning, Carl felt a bit better, but needed real medical attention—the kind none of us could provide. We’d done all we knew to do, including upending a bottle of whiskey into the wound and letting it run all the way through him. Billy ground some gunpowder to a fine dust, combined it with some flour, and packed the wound on both sides. Stopped the bleeding, but we were still concerned about possible infection.