Tennessee Renegade

by Hank J. Kirby

  ‘You’re a worse snake than I figured, Cord,’ Enderby said, anger boiling up in him and he started to his feet.

  Brewster’s gun fired instantly, and Buck was hurled back against the wall violently, blood on his shirt front. He half-twisted and fell on his side, dragging his chair down with him. The women customers screamed and one fainted. Rina covered her face with her hands. Renny narrowed his eyes.

  ‘You’re a dead man, mister!’ he told Brewster.

  ‘Got that wrong, kid. Buck’s the dead ’un.’

  Brewster swung his gun and it cracked against the kid’s head. The impact was only partially absorbed by the neckerchief still tied around Renny’s head, and he sprawled across Rina’s lap and then spilled off to the floor. She knelt beside him swiftly, talking anxiously in Spanish.

  Brewster swung around as one of the male diners came up hesitantly. ‘What d’you want?’

  ‘Sir, I am a doctor. I think that man you shot may need … attention.’ It was the man with the Van Dyke beard.

  ‘Not if I shot him. Trap, cover the room while Chip drags the kid out.’ He took the girl by the arm and frowned as the doctor knelt beside the still Enderby and half-turned him on his back. ‘Well?’

  The doctor’s face was pale when he looked at Brewster. ‘Unfortunately, sir, you are right. This man is past all needs now, your bullet has seen to that.’

  Brester kind of sneered as he looked down at Enderby’s body. His left hand rubbed gently at the scar on his face. ‘Well, I ain’t gonna miss him, all right, boys, let’s light out of here right now. You folk stay put, this is official Ranger business. You interfere and you’ll end up in more trouble then you ever dreamed of, c’mon move!’

  The group had passed through the doorway and out into the night before Enderby groaned and twitched a little.

  The doctor, halfway to his feet, stopped and spoke sharply to a waiter who had come hurrying up.

  ‘Get me hot water and some cloths! Quickly, man!’

  The waiter hesitated fractionally and then sped off. As the doctor rolled Enderby on to his back, one of the men he had been dining with walked across.

  ‘You said the man was dead, Franklin!’

  The doctor smiled as he opened Enderby’s shirt and revealed that the bullet had cut through the big chest muscle, burned his arm and then slapped into the wall. There was a knot on Buck’s head where it had struck a chair as he fell. The sawbones pointed to it.

  ‘Lucky the fall knocked him out or that so-called Ranger would’ve put a finishing shot into him.’ He staunched the flow of blood from the wound with a clean handkerchief, looking around for the tardy waiter who was just coming from the direction of the kitchen now with towels and a bowl of steaming water. Doctor Bryce Franklin gave his puzzled friend a half-smile.

  ‘I know this man, he once saved my life. Seemed the only decent thing to do on my part tonight was to reciprocate … Now, lend a hand here, Sol …’

  ‘You are completely mad, sir! Here I save your life for you and now you intend to risk it by – by riding a hundred miles, into an inevitable gunfight!’

  Doctor Franklin was genuinely angry as Enderby swung his legs slowly over the side of the narrow bed in the small infirmary. He sat there, head swimming, breathing a little harder than usual, swathes of bandage wrapped about his chest.

  ‘Doc, we’re square now, but I have to go, Brewster’s gonna ransom those two kids, and he’ll kill them as soon as he collects the money.’

  Franklin sighed, started for the door. ‘I’ll get you a clean shirt. One of mine should fit—’ He paused. ‘It was a long time ago that you rode up and saved my wife and I from those bandits, Buck. You’ve aged and you’re showing it, but I guess that you’re no less tough than you were in those days.’

  Enderby, struggling with his trousers, paused, looking sober. ‘I’m tough enough, Doc.’

  Franklin nodded. ‘Buck, this is a foolish thing you do, although I understand why a man like you has to do it even at great risk. If you know where they are taking the young people, couldn’t you get help from the Law?’

  ‘Call in the Rangers, maybe?’

  Franklin nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I see, you have to do this yourself. Even when I knew you before, you struck me as an honourable man, that certainly hasn’t changed. I’ll get that shirt for you.’

  Buck nodded, breathing heavily now from his efforts at dressing, wondering if he would be able to make it all the way to Kim’s ranch.

  Brewster was so confident that he hadn’t even placed a guard to watch the approaches to the ranch.

  None that Enderby could see, anyway, from where he lay up in the mesquite on a ledge overlooking the house and yard. Kim’s ranch hands were nowhere to be seen but Brewster would have made sure she sent them far afield on chores that would keep them away from the ranch house.

  He still wasn’t completely sure Conner had told him the truth about there being no guards, but he was prepared to risk it. He’d already risked plenty riding out here and the bandages under his borrowed shirt felt wet.

  Coming through Snake Pass, named for its twisting shape rather than any denizen of the reptile world that inhabited its confines, Buck Enderby had seen a man with a rifle running for the cover of some rocks up on the slope. He had recognized Conner, the fifth man in Brewster’s gang, and a back-shooter from way back.

  Without hesitation, Buck threw his rifle to his shoulder and triggered, but the movement of his damaged chest muscles made him flinch and he missed. Dirt erupted a foot in front of Conner’s boots. The man slipped and slid back two yards, dust shrouding him.

  Gritting his teeth, Buck levered and held the rifle raised and ready. When the dust thinned, he saw that Conner had rolled on to his back, rifle across his body. The gun blasted and Enderby heard the thrrrrruppp! of the bullet passing overhead. He fired and levered again, but it was too much for his chest and the rifle sagged and wavered wildly.

  Not that it mattered. Conner was hit, dropped his own gun and rolled and slid to the bottom of the slope. Buck heeled his mount across and stopped the horse almost on top of the man as he writhed and sobbed in agony. The bullet had passed through his chest, side to side, and he didn’t have long. Enderby put a shot into the ground by the man’s head, wrenching a cry from him. He looked up with fear-filled, dulling eyes.

  ‘Tell me Brewster’s set-up, Con, do it quick. You ain’t got long.’

  ‘Go … to … hell!’ The man coughed blood, stiffened when Buck levered a shell into the breech.

  ‘Con, you’re dying. You’re in bad pain now. But I can make it a lot worse before you breathe your last.’ He aimed the rifle at the man’s right knee cap. ‘Now, about Brewster’s set-up at Kim’s place.…’

  Conner had told all he knew which mainly came down to the fact that Brewster was holding both Renny and Rina for ransom, but that he thought Buck was dead and as far as Con knew there were no guards.

  Now it seemed as if the dying killer had told the truth. He had been on his way to send the ransom notes to the Senator and Don Diego when he had spotted Buck coming into Snake Pass and thought to bushwhack him. He should have just hidden and allowed Enderby to ride on through.

  Now there was one less for Buck to tackle at the ranch.

  It was late afternoon and he figured he would wait until dusk – when they would likely be at supper – or even full dark. Likely Kim’s men had been told to camp out for the night. If they came back, Buck would have some allies, but he didn’t think it likely that Brewster would chance having a bunkhouse full of loyal cowboys close by.

  He had felt a hell of a lot better than he did right now, as he hitched around trying to get comfortable, the ache in his chest was rising into his neck and head, creeping down his bullet-burned left arm into his fingers which he could hardly bend enough to grip the fore-end of the rifle firmly.

  He would just have to use his Colt, which would give him only six shots, and four men to take down with them, four unwounded men, a
ll intent on killing him.

  Kim, Renny, and Rina would be in danger, too. If he couldn’t work it so that they were out of the line of fire, well, he didn’t want to think about that.

  Diversion. That’s what he needed. He was waiting in brush not far from the corrals and as the shadows closed down he moved closer, crouched almost double and nearly stepped on a sleeping rattlesnake, enjoying the cooling air, no doubt. He hated snakes but they were a fact of life out here and a man had to learn to live with them. Running a tongue around his lips, he started to edge past, then stopped, took several deep breaths, watching the snake, crouched slowly, biting back on the pain it caused him. His right palm was sweating already as he let it hover over the snake’s head. The beady, lidless eyes seemed to be watching him and he knew that the reptile’s instincts would waken it any moment. As it started to lift a little from the coiled body, he grabbed, managing to get a thumb over the top of the head, holding the jaws closed. The snake writhed and rattled furiously and, heart thundering, Buck stood unsteadily in the brush and hurled the snake into the midst of the horses in the corral.

  There was instant pandemonium. The startled snake struck wildly as it landed on the back of a big dappled grey and, slithering off, bit into the belly of a sorrel. Horses reared and shrilled and screamed, pawing the air, retreating, eyes wild, snorting as they plunged, striking frantically at the terrified snake with their hoofs while it only wanted to get away from this instant hell.

  The front door burst open and Chip Riley and Trapper came out on to the porch, Trapper with sawn-off shotgun braced against his hip.

  ‘What the hell’s wrong?’ called Brewster from inside the house.

  ‘Jesus!’ yelled Riley who was ahead of Trapper as they ran towards the corrals. ‘Rattler!’

  ‘Christ is that all,’ growled Brewster. ‘Kill the damn thing then.…’

  Riley drew his sixgun, dancing aside with boots spread wide. He triggered wildly and Trapper yelled.

  ‘Goddamnit! That bullet tore through my pants leg!’ Then the shotgun roared and when it did, Buck fired from his bush, the shotgun’s thunder covering the sound of his Colt. ‘I got him! That fixed the son of a bitch…! No, he’s still wrigglin’!’

  Trapper hesitated, about to shoot, but suddenly aware that Chip Riley was staring at him wide-eyed, with a stream of blood flowing out of his sagging mouth. Then as Riley’s legs gave way under him Trapper saw Enderby in the bushes and he shouted a curse and swung the gun up and around.

  Buck dropped flat, shooting, and the bush above him was torn to pieces, sap and chewed bark raining down on him. Trapper had fallen through the bars of the corral where the horses were still milling, one down from the snake’s bite, the rest calming. He was trampled underfoot and as Enderby tried to push to his feet, fat Bud Brosnan stumbled out on to the porch.

  ‘Sounds like a goddamn war! What the hell’re you—’ He cut whatever he was going to say, dragging at his Colt. ‘Cord! Cord! Enderby’s out here!’

  He was throwing himself sideways even as he spoke, gun hammering. Buck’s leg gave under him and he slipped, put out his left hand to keep from falling flat and cried aloud as the searing pain shot through him. He rolled half on to his back as lead tore at the thin brush.

  Brosnan was shooting through the porch rails and Buck’s bullet tore a long sliver of wood, sending it humming and spinning. It struck Brosnan on the ear, ripping it partly from his head. He clapped a hand over the bloody wound and half-raised up, cursing in his agony.

  His head jerked violently as Buck’s next bullet took him through the temple and he fell, kicking jerkily, as Brewster appeared in the doorway. He was holding a gun, but the barrel was pressed into the thick hair covering Kim Preece’s head.

  ‘I dunno how you did it, Buck, but you’ve lost out anyway! I guess I don’t have to spell it out!’

  Enderby, still crouching, said nothing. His head was whirling and it hurt like hell to breathe. His left arm was useless and he thought he only had one bullet left in the Colt. Maybe none. He had lost count.

  Which only added to the danger both he and Kim were in. Brewster had yanked her head back so that her neck was stretched, and her face was contorted in pain.

  Slowly, Enderby started to stand. He stumbled twice and he saw Brewster tense, ready to shoot. He raised his right hand holding the Colt, left arm dangling, his shirt front red with his blood. His face looked ghastly, grey and lined and dirt-smeared.

  ‘Let it drop, Buck!’ rapped Brewster and Enderby released his hold on the Colt.

  He swayed unsteadily. ‘Kim’s not in this, Cord.’

  ‘That a fact?’ Brewster grinned and shook the woman. ‘Looks like she’s in it from where I’m standin’, but you ain’t in it any longer! Figured I’d finished with you, but I’ll do that right now and then make myself a rich man.…’

  Then there was a high-pitched scream from in the house and Brewster whirled even as something moved in a blur and he and Kim and Renny Pardoe, hands tied behind him, all thrashed together on the porch. Brewster dropped his pistol, dazed by the impact of Renny’s body. Kim writhed out from under as Renny rolled on to his back and kicked savagely at Brewster, sending him crashing into the wall.

  He snarled and came back at the kid, punching him in the face, whipping out his hunting knife. Then Kim, sobbing, picked up the Colt and lifted it in both hands as she triggered.

  Brewster staggered, looking around with a shocked expression. She fired again. He slammed into the wall, looking down at the blood spurting from his body. Then his eyes rolled up into his head and he fell on his face, unmoving.

  Renny Pardoe was comforting Rina, who seemed little the worse for her rough experiences, while Kim poured iodine into Enderby’s wound, making him squirm.

  ‘Glad of your help, Renny,’ he said quietly. ‘Seems some of what I taught you about thinking of someone apart from yourself has rubbed-off.’

  The kid shrugged. ‘Maybe … I moved before I knew what I was doing.’

  ‘That’s what I mean, it was instinctive.’

  Rina prodded Renny. ‘He did it deliberately, Señor Buck! Told me to scream so as to startle Brewster.…’ She smiled fondly at him and moved closer. ‘I think he is a good hombre!’

  ‘Yeah, he’s not bad,’ Buck conceded quietly and Renny grinned slowly.

  ‘Well, seems Brewster lied about the Senator. He wasn’t shot at all. Just wanted you to get after me. Taking me hostage was to be his way of getting back at the Senator.’

  Buck looked at him narrowly. ‘The Senator …?’

  Renny nodded, still smiling. ‘Yeah, you know: my father.’

  Buck nodded approval. ‘Reckon he’ll be happy with his new daughter-in-law, too.’ Winking at Rina, he turned to Kim who had hardly spoken since the gunfight. ‘I’ll get on the trail come morning.’

  She tied off the bandage and looked at him soberly. ‘Now why would you do that? Why would you want to leave again so soon? You’re home now, Buck Enderby. Home!’ She smiled and added, ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to patch up every now and again, anyway.’

  It sounded good to him.

  By the same author

  Shoot on Sight

  Hellfire Pass

  Blood Kin

  The Cougar Canyon Run

  Travis Quinn, Outlaw

  Bronco Madigan

  Cimarron Arrow

  Madigan’s Star

  Count Your Bullets

  Madigan’s Lady

  Bull’s-Eye

  Madigan’s Sidekick

  Copyright

  © Hank J Kirby 2005

  First published in Great Britain 2005

  This edition 2012

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0583 7 (epub)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0584 4 (mobi)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0585 1 (pdf)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 7640 7 (print)

  Robert Hale Limited

  Clerkenwell House

  Clerkenwell Green

&n
bsp; London EC1R 0HT

  www.halebooks.com

  The right of Hank J Kirby to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988