The three men enjoyed the coffee while Susan set the food on the table. “All ready.” She turned towards her son who had his face in a book. “Bart, the book can wait. Come and eat please.”
Bart's courteous nature overtook his wish to read the book. He set the book on the shelf. “Yes, Ma. Coming.”
The roast beef was tender and the fresh bread wore a dome of golden brown. Once Dunn poured gravy on his second helping of potatoes.
Tom relayed stores about the old prospector. “Farrow was working a creek on the other side of the north ridge of mountains. He worked quietly, he like it that way. He told us that as he panned the biggest deer he'd ever seen walked up to the river a short distance upwind of him. He always kept his rifle handy. The next day he brought us enough venison to keep us fed for months.”
“That man always thought of others,” added Susan.
Tom speared a piece of carrot and raised it to his mouth. He stopped the fork just shy of his lips and returned the food to his plate. Warily he looked around the room. Ward and Dunn saw the concerned look and also scanned the house.
“You smell something burning?” asked Tom.
“Yes, and it's not the wood fire in the stove,” Susan said. “I know that smell.”
“The door, it's the door,” shouted Bart.
Smoke flowed in under the door. Flames licked upwards from the bottom edge.
“This is trouble, everyone stand clear of the window,” said Ron Ward calmly. He immediately knew the fire was a trap.
Susan Sheridan jumped out of her chair just as a bullet smashed through the window and shattered the back of her chair.
The men took up positions beside the windows, risking quick glances out.
Bart saw a discoloured area on the wall opposite the door. He touched the wall at the back of the cabin and felt heat. “There's another fire outside this wall.”
“Bart, get down,” shouted Tom.
Bart ducked just as a volley of bullets flew through the window. The first bullet grazed his left shoulder. He fell to the floor with his hand over the wound.
“Bart,” cried Susan who crawled to her son. She looked closely at the wound. Relief filled her when she saw it was just a flesh wound.
“I'm okay, Ma”
“Let's move into the corner,” Susan replied. Without hesitation Susan and her son crawled to the relative safety of the dark corner of the house.
A steady barrage of bullets flew through the window from the deep cover of the trees.
“They're keeping us in the house so the fire can finish us off.” Ward looked around the house.
They stuffed a blanket at the bottom of the door to slow smoke seeping in. Flames appeared under the outside of the window.
“Any other way out of here besides the door and window?” asked Ward.
Tom pointed his rifle over the bunk bed. “Just the attic access up there and a small hatch leading onto the roof. It's tight but we should all be able to use it.”
Ward ducked low and crept under the window as bullets flew over his head. “Any more weapons in the house, Tom?”
“Two more hand guns and a shotgun in the box beside the bunk.” Tom pulled out the weapons. He tossed a pistol and box of cartridges to Bart who loaded the weapon and slipped it in his belt. He poured the remaining cartridges in a pocket.
They distributed the other guns and ammo and gathered beside the bunk bed.
Once Dunn dragged the box that had held the weapons into the centre of the room, between the big window and the bunk bed. He set the table on top of the box on its side so it protected the hatch area from the shooters in front of the house.
Ward moved closer to Dunn. “How many shooters do you think are in the rear of the house?”
“I'm guessing three at the most,” replied Dunn. “About double that are in the front watching the window and the door where Tom Sheridan fired shots regularly to keep the shooters away from the house.”
“Good. I need you to knock out the chimney sticking through the rear wall and keep them occupied at the rear of the house.”
Once Dunn poured water on the fire in the stove. He then removed the chimney. Through the small hole he fired at the men at the trees behind the ranch house. The gunmen in the trees and behind the barn returned fire as they waited for the fire to finish off everyone in the house.
Ward climbed onto the top bunk and pushed open the attic door. He ignored the dust trickling down on him. He hoisted himself up into the five-foot high space.
It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dark. The only light came through the door and under a few loose shingles.
Ward pried up the weakest shingles until they were wide enough in two places to accommodate a gun barrel. He leaned through the door in to the cabin. “All right, everyone up here except Once who can keep those shooter out front occupied. We'll call when we need you. Tom, how are you with that Winchester?”
“I'm a good shot. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“First, let's get everyone else up here. Then you and I'll will try and pick off a few of the shooters in the back. It looks like the best escape route since the trees are close.”
The Sheridan family climbed into the attic while Once Dunn kept firing at the gunmen in front of the house, the flames rising higher in the window blocking their view of him.
Ward and Tom Sheridan took up positions at the rear of the attic. “Tom, let's brace our weapons on the support beams and keep our gun barrels inside the attic. I hope they'll think we're still firing from inside the house. That should buy us more time to do some damage.” Ward turned to Bart and Susan. “It's about to get noisy in here.”
The Scrum hired hands in the front of the house continued to confidently shoot through the window. Dunn continued firing from the front of the house. A tall Scrum hand in the trees moved to his left to get a better angle on the chimney hole. As he did this Tom Sheridan watched from the attic with his finger on the trigger. The man moved quickly between two thick trees. Sheridan tried to time his shot. His first shot grazed the tree, sending splinters of wood in the tall man’s direction. The man took a couple seconds to clear his eyes. That’s all Sheridan needed. While the man bent over, he exposed his head. Tom’s next shot hit him in the temple.
A heavily bearded man deeper in the woods watched his companion fall and shook his head. “Those people are trapped in the house. Why Tucker had to stand up and give them a big target is beyond me.” As the man spoke to himself he bobbed his head. Ward had been catching glimpses of the bearded man's wide hat between two branches.
Ward adjusted his aim to compensate for the distance and slowly squeezed the trigger. The bearded man's lifeless body slumped forward, his bleeding head resting against a tree.
The third Scrum hand behind the house ducked under the heavy cover of a woodpile between the two dead men. He contemplated the fifty dollars offered to each man if everyone in the house died. The money wasn't enough. He holstered his six-gun and gripped his rifle firmly.
From their secure perch in the attic Tom Sheridan and Ron Ward had the man in their sights as he zigzagged his way through the trees running away from the house. Sheridan lowered his rife while Ward fired off a couple shots over the fleeing man's head, reminding him that trouble remained at the house.
“Bart, get Once Dunn up here,” said Ward.
Bart yelled through the hatch to Once Dunn. The big man yelled “be right there.”
In the attic Ron Ward laid on his back under the back side of the roof beside the small hatch only big enough for Bart or Susan to escape. He kicked upwards with all his strength. Shingles flew off the roof making a hole plenty big enough for even Once Dunn.
The large hole let in more air that fed the flames that now licked the sides of the attic.
Without a word Once Dunn and Tom Sheridan jumped through the hole and from behind the peak of the roof pinned down the gunmen in front of the house.
Ron and Bart climbed o
ut next and helped Susan onto the roof. Both Ron with his pistol and Bart with a shotgun joined Once and Tom in exchanging fire with the Scrum gunmen. Bullets whizzed past their heads or plowed into the shingles in front of them.
The Scrum men in front of the house continued firing while moving from tree to tree towards the north side of the house.
Ward whispered. “We can't hold them forever. They're far enough around to have a shot at the rear of the house. Time to make a move.”
Moments later fire shot out of the peak of the roof. Everyone on the roof backed down to the lower edge at the back of the house. The growing fire provided some cover.
The roof bottom rested ten feet above the ground. Ron Ward gripped the edge of the roof and dropped. He held the roof edge briefly, and then fell to the ground. He rolled smoothly when his feet hit the sod.
Ward hopped to his feet and waved at Bart. The young man jumped gracefully and landed on his feet beside Ron.
Bart looked up at his mother standing on the edge of the roof. “Jump, Ma. We got you.”
Susan Sheridan hesitated. Two bullets flew past her ear, prompting her to jump. Ron and Bart each grabbed an arm as she landed. Immediately they dashed into the trees.
When under cover Ward turned to Bart and looked at the shotgun hanging on his back. “Best make good use of that gun, Bart. We have to provide cover for your Pa and Once.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the confident young man.
Ward quickly scanned the area. “I think behind the wood pile is the best cover. Let's move over there, Susan.”
Once and Tom maintained steady fire from the roof, keeping the gunmen from making it all the way to the rear of the house. Ron and Bart set up in position behind the woodpile and opened fire.
Once looked down and saw his friend signal him to get down. Once nodded to Tom. “Let's move. You go first.”
“Right.” Tom Sheridan turned around and took three steps towards the edge of the roof. Smoke swirling around him like fog in the wind. A shot rang out, but not from near the woodpile or from the gunmen north of the ranch house. The shot came from the hill a short distance behind the house.
Once turned and raised his Winchester. The gunman stood beside a heavy tree watching Tom Sheridan crash to the ground with his hand on the side of his head.
Once's heart raced as he lifted his rife and took aim. The man beside the tree calmly backed behind the thick grouping of trees to his right. Once Dunn saw the heavy-set man ride east just below the tops of the trees.
Dunn ran to the edge of the roof and jumped. For a big man he was very agile, part of his wrestling and boxing training. He landed beside Tom Sheridan and carried him to the cover of the trees.
The gunmen north of the house saw Tom Sheridan fall. Seconds later bullets flew at them from the direction of the woodpile. They raced back to the forest at the front of the house and climbed on their mounts. They rode hard down a trail in the direction of the Scrum ranch.
With the area now clear everyone gathered around Tom Sheridan. Susan held his hand, tears streaming down his face. Once Dunn pulled Tom’s hand from his head and inspected the wound. “It bled a lot but will be fine in a couple days.”
“Who shot him?” asked Bart.
“Big man. I think it was Barry Scrum,” said Once.
Despite the pain Tom whispered, “Yes, it was Scrum. Caught a look at him just before he fired.”
“Rest, Tom, please rest,” pleaded Susan Sheridan.
Straining, Tom held Susan's hand tight. “I'm going to pull through this, but please make me a promise.”
“Anything.”
“Follow our dream. Move with Bart to Boston so he can go to college and you'll be safer.”
“We will, we will,” replied Susan.
Tom Sheridan turned to face his son. “Does that suit you, son?”
“Yes Pa.”
Tom Sheridan's voice grew raspy. “The land sale, the gold, and the money won will keep us comfortable.”
“The gold,” exclaimed Susan.
Tom reached in his pocket and removed the two pouches of gold. Susan, Tom, and Bart smiled.
“We'll be all right.” Tom held Susan and Bart close. “First, we have to get this fire out.”
“Tom, you’re hurt,” said Ron Ward “The house is done, but we can save the barn and the animals.”
Chapter Six
Ron, Once, and Bart battled the flames for hours. Finally, most of the flames were extinguished. Only a few horses and cows were lost.
Tom, Susan and Bart Sheridan gathered the few valuables not consumed by the flames.
Once and Bart pulled an old wagon out of a grove of trees. They repaired a wheel and the front seat. It would get the Sheridan's to their next stop, the Ward ranch where they would prepare for their move to Boston.
Ward and Dunn mounted their horses and led the way to the crest of the hill overlooking the charred remains of the former Sheridan ranch.
Tom scanned the area. “This is good land. One of our neighbours will want it. We'll get a fair price for it and the animals.”
“You two have been so kind to us.” Susan wept as she looked over the area they had worked so hard to settle.
Big Once Dunn stood tall on his horse. “We'll also make sure Barry Scrum pays for what he did. You have our word on that.”
Two days later Tom, Susan and Bart slept in the comfortable rooms in Ward's sprawling ranch house. The Sheridan's rose early and sat on the veranda with coffee provided by Chuck the cook. The bright sun flooded over the dozens of corrals and the rolling green pasture.
Ron Ward joined them holding his own steaming cup of coffee.
“Your ranch is amazing, Ron,” said Susan Sheridan.
“It was a lot of hard work and a little luck that made it what it is.”
Bart sat quietly as he sipped the last of his coffee. He set the cup down on the small wooden table and reached behind him. A Winchester leaned against the wall. Veins on his hand stuck out as he tightly gripped the barrel and picked up the rifle. “I'll be back in a day or two. I'm going to deal with Barry Scrum before the sun sets today. “Bart stood up and walked to the wide wooden steps leading to the ground. His saddled horse stood at the bottom of the steps.
“Please, Bart, don't do it,” cried his mother.
“My mind is made up, Ma.”
Once Dunn walked up to Bart. “I think you can pick off that fat old man with no problem, Bart. Both Ron and I have scores to settle with him. Why don't you let us look after him? We're pretty good at what we do.”
Bart shook his head. “That's not right. He hurt my family.”
Ron Ward waited a moment before getting up from his chair. He softly said, “Bart, your father's still healing. Both your folks wish for you to go east and get that education you dreamed of. Why don't you take his good advice while Once and I tend to Scrum?”
Bart dropped his head then looked into his mother's worried eyes. “If you promise that he'll get what's coming to him I will.”
“Count on it,” added Dunn.
“You all make yourselves at home. The house is yours until Once and I get back,” said Ward.
“We will,” added Bart, “but there's not much to do, is there? I can't run all day.”
Ron Ward spent the early afternoon showing Tom and Susan Sheridan around his ranch. Tom shielded his eyes and studied a large herd of cattle. “Good sized stock. I heard the grass was good in this part of the country.”
Ron nodded. “And we have two springs behind the smaller hills a few miles south.”
Twenty minutes into the tour, Tom and Susan had a clear understanding of the size of the ranch. Dozens of high quality horses and a good-sized herd of cattle kept twelve men busy.
Susan stopped suddenly when they crested a low rise overlooking the winding stream.
An expansive flower garden covered most of the area. They dismounted and walked through the garden.
Susan smiled broadly and bend down to
smell a rose. “I love flowers. I'm surprised to see such a magnificent garden.”
“My mother loved flowers and created this. She died a few years ago and I kept it as a memory of her. It's a relaxing place that brings back many good memories.”
From beside a bed of chrysanthemums Susan turned in a full circle admiring the well-organized ranch and the surrounding hills. She thought it was the most spectacular setting she had ever seen. Ward left Tom and Susan Sheridan in the flower garden. The relaxed environment was a perfect spot to discuss their plans to move to the east coast.
The next morning Ron Ward and Once Dunn each selected fresh horses. They saddled them and filled the saddlebags with food and ammunition enough for several days.
From a gun rack Ward and Once selected Winchesters and slid them into their scabbards.
The Sheridan family walked across the grass in front of the ranch house and met Ron and Once as they cinched the saddles securely onto the horses.
“Looks like you're ready to go,” said Tom.
“That we are. We should be back in a few days,” replied Ron.
“I'll write a letter to our family in Boston letting them know we will soon be on our way.”
“I’d sure like to go with you and deal with Scrum,” added Tom.
“You have a nice family, Tom. You heal up and look after them.”
Ward gave his hired hands orders to keep lookouts in place around the clock. His workers got good pay and were reliable and handy with a gun.
Once and Ward's mounted their rides, waved, and rode away.
The day felt like heat was on the way. Both riders carried two canteens slung over their pommels as they rode east. The level ground running east of the Ward ranch provided little cover. It also made it easy for the two men to see anyone following. The trail led away from the Scum ranch. Ward decided to take a circuitous route. He expected Scrum hands would watch the direct routes carefully. He knew the value of patience.
The two friends continued riding away from the Scrum ranch. To the east, about two miles away, sat the town of Barlow. Ward looked at it then at the pounding sun. “I'm thinking that if we stop for a cold beer at Harold's saloon it would give that sun enough time to get below the hill tops up ahead.”
Raining Trouble Page 5