Blood Bond 9

by William W. Johnstone

  “I thought it was a clever way to meet a pretty woman!”

  “Go ahead and joke, Sam. But I know better.”

  Sam grew more serious and said, “All right, I’ll admit it. I make no secret of the fact that I’m Cheyenne, but for reasons of my own I live the life I am. I’ve seen an awful lot of things that weren’t right in this world. I know that most of them I can’t do anything about. A few things I can do something about, and I’ll do my damndest to make right what I can make right.”

  “You’re a good man, Sam. That fact will shape everything you do in your life. I know that sometimes you’ll have doubts and problems, and some of them nobody will fully understand—not even Matt. And possibly not even the woman you marry—”

  Sam held up his hands and said, “Now, wait a minute!”

  “—if you marry someday. And you probably will. The point I’m trying to make, though, is that no matter what you do, you should not deny who you are. You will always have the blood of your parents flowing through you. You will always have your heritage to fall back on. Keep that in mind as you decide what is the right thing. I think it will serve you well. This situation with King Petty is a good example.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Most men would never have gotten involved to start with. But because of who you are, you came to Lilly’s aid. Most men would have felt fear and not stuck around to face Petty. I can tell, though, that you’ve come from a long line of warriors. I’d be willing to bet your father was a leader of your people. He passed his courage on to you. I know you will face Petty, and any other problem that comes your way, with bravery. That is something very rare and special.”

  Sam smiled and took Clarissa’s hand.

  “Thanks for being so straight with me. I can always count on Matt being honest with me—even brutally so. That’s why I can trust him so much. But you said some things that even he might have a difficult time saying.”

  “I know that you and Matt have a special bond. But sometimes even that is not enough.” She grinned. “Do you still want that coffee?”

  “Of course! If I don’t come out with something, everybody’s going to wonder what I’ve been doing here all this time with the prettiest woman in town!”

  “You are a charmer, Sam Two-Wolves.” She prepared the coffee and handed it to Sam. “I don’t need to tell you that King Petty is out there waiting for you. And I know you will be careful. But please remember that your efforts are appreciated. Anything Henry or I could do . . .”

  Sam took the coffee. “You’ve already done it, Clarissa. You’ve already done it.”

  Matt walked down the street in the sunlight, and waved to Clarissa Ponder as she prepared to open the store for the day. He noticed Sam walking softly behind her. Matt was glad to see Sam talking to her. Matt had thought his blood brother had been kind of moody at times recently, but couldn’t figure out what to do about it. From what Matt had seen of the woman, she seemed to have some kind of understanding that might help. Sam followed Clarissa into the store, and Matt continued his stroll down the town’s main street.

  Matt had been in his new job as City Marshal of Snake Creek for only a short time, but so far all had remained quiet. He knew, of course, that it wouldn’t last. Matt and Sam had brought the fight to King Petty, humiliating him in front of the town not just once but several times. Petty would be almost crazy with anger. He had proven himself capable of doing anything. The question was, what would he now do in retaliation? Derrell Brown had been left behind at Lilly’s—he seemed to be hitting it off well with the widow and her boy, and Matt was content to let him look after things on the farm.

  The new marshal’s walk led him past the ruins of the Black Bull Saloon. The ground in front where the stampeding cattle had churned it up remained a mess. Matt smiled at the surprise on Petty’s face as he’d rushed out of the building just ahead of the cattle. Maybe it was a dirty trick to play on the town, but most of the people had seemed to enjoy the show.

  “This place is in one helluva shape, isn’t it?” Sam said from behind Matt.

  “Looks like a herd of stampeding cattle ran through it,” Matt agreed, with a straight face.

  “Wonder who would have allowed such a thing?”

  “Don’t know. Think I should try to find out and run them in?”

  Sam made a clucking sound with his tongue. “Isn’t that just like you? Give you a badge, and you start wanting to throw people in jail! Guess I should have warned them!”

  “You’re just jealous because they picked me instead of you! Guess I could deputize you . . .”

  “And work for you! You think I’m crazy or something?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that question?”

  “Come to think of it . . . no.”

  Sam fell into place beside Matt as they walked down the street. In spite of the friendly banter, they both knew Petty would try something soon, and they wanted to be ready for it.

  To Matt, Sam seemed a little more at ease than he had been. Any other person might not have noticed it, but Matt knew his partner better than anybody.

  “You and Clarissa have a good talk?”

  Sam held up the small paper bag. “I got some coffee I needed,” he said.

  Matt smiled and said, “Glad to hear it.” The two men walked a little farther until they came to an alley. “Let’s run by Petty’s new place.”

  “Sure. Life’s been almost too boring for the past, oh . . . ten minutes or so.”

  The alley was deserted, and the small, faded building that housed the dingy saloon at the end of the alley also seemed deserted.

  “How do you like that?” Matt asked. “Nobody’s home.”

  Sam scanned the ground. “I don’t like it. A lot of men were here, and left fast. Not more than an hour ago.”

  A groan came from inside the building.

  “Sounds like somebody’s hurt,” Matt said. “You go around back. I’ll go in the front. Let’s check this out.”

  Sam didn’t say a word, but disappeared around the corner of the building. Matt pulled his Colt and moved silently through the door. At first, he saw nothing, but heard another moan. He stepped inside and saw the figure leaning, trying to pull himself up to the bar, clutching at an almost empty whiskey bottle.

  “Holt? What are you doing?”

  Matt stepped closer as Sam came in through the back. Matt leaned down to talk with the former marshal and looked him over. The other man groaned and took a drink.

  “Petty sure did a number on you this time,” Matt said softly. “Hell, you’re nothing but black and blue.”

  “He was going to kill me,” Holt said. “I don’t know why he didn’t pull the trigger. He had the gun to my head.”

  “What’s going on?” Sam demanded. “Where’s Petty?”

  Holt looked over at Sam and said slowly, “They’re going after the boy. This time to string him up.”

  “Is even King Petty that cruel and vicious?” Matt asked.

  Sam’s eyes grew hard. “Like hell he is,” he said, already running for the door.

  Matt let Holt fall back to the floor and followed Sam.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Derrell Brown, in spite of the inherent dangers, was enjoying the day. He had lost Lilly once before when she had married Jack Brandom. After she was married, she was no longer eligible, so he’d tried to put her out of his mind. Now, because of the terrible tragedy in her life, he had another chance to be with her. He would not have wanted Jack Brandom killed under any circumstances, but he was more than willing to help Lilly with no thought of repayment. To him, being with Lilly was payment enough.

  The task that Sam had assigned him now was to watch after Lilly and Tommy, in case King Petty tried to pull anything. Derrell had done well so far, periodically checking the area around the house and making sure the home and outbuildings were secure. He wasn’t sure what he would do if Petty actually showed up. He did know he would not back down. He wou
ld fight to the death for Lilly and her son.

  Lilly had spread a cloth under the tree in the front yard and had brought some biscuits and fried meat out for a little picnic in the spring sunshine. Derrell was leaning against the tree with Tommy beside him. He smiled at the unexpectedly domestic scene that made even a hint of danger seem a thousand miles away.

  “This is great,” Derrell said. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Does your mom do this often?”

  “Not really,” Tommy said. “When my dad . . . was alive . . . she never did this. He didn’t like eating outside much. I like it. It’s kind of fun.”

  “Fun? Seems sometimes that I’ve eaten most of my meals outside.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  Derrell laughed. “Lucky? I don’t know. Most of those meals were eaten on the run, as I chased down or worked with cattle. It’s paid off . . . we got a good herd going. We almost lost it, but thanks to Matt and Sam we’ve got our animals back. Still, there’s lots of work ahead of us. It’s not an easy life being a cowboy.”

  “Will you show me how to ride? And rope? I’d like to work with you. Would you teach me?”

  Derrell felt an unexpected closeness to the boy. “We’ll talk to your mom about it,” he said. “First thing to do is to make sure you guys remain safe. As long as King Petty is around, nobody is safe.”

  Lilly called from the house, “Tommy, would you help me?”

  “Sure, Mom!”

  Tommy ran into the house. A minute later, he came out, followed by Lilly carrying a bowl. Derrell stepped up and took the bowl from her, saying, “Here, let me help you with that.”

  The woman smiled, and they sat on the ground.

  “I don’t know how I could ever thank you,” Lilly said. “You’ve done so much for Tommy and me.”

  “I haven’t done that much,” Derrell protested. “Nothing any other man wouldn’t have done. And, to be honest, I’m a little concerned about Petty. It’s been too quiet. He won’t quit until he gets his way . . . or dies trying. And we know how tough it’d be to kill him. Even with Sam and Matt on our side.”

  “We’ll be fine . . . you’ll see.”

  Derrell was very aware of the woman just a few feet from him, but his eyes were on the distant hills, trying to watch for any signs of danger. He poured some molasses in his plate and sopped a biscuit in it.

  “I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” Derrell said hesitantly. “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind and so on . . . but . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Tommy asked if he could ride with me, learn a little about cattle and ranching . . .”

  “I don’t see why not. As long as he gets his chores done around here.”

  “Thanks, Mom!”

  “It’d be good for him to learn different kinds of work. And I imagine he’d like spending time with you.”

  Lilly smiled, so Derrell continued, “And there’s something else, too.”

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe after some time passes . . . and things get settled out . . . and this Petty thing is taken care of . . . could I . . .” Derrell cleared his throat. “Could I maybe come by sometimes and see you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I mean, that is if you don’t mind . . .” He paused. “You’d like that?”

  “Give me a little time to work things out in my head . . . but sure. I’d enjoy that.”

  In the corral near the barn, the horses started to pace restlessly and whinnied. Normally, it might have meant nothing, but Derrell was going to take no chances.

  “In the house, get your gun ready,” Derrell said. “Do it, now!”

  Lilly and Tom jumped up and headed for the door, but it was already too late.

  A dozen riders, all wearing masks, galloped over the small hill, hooves stamping on the grave, guns blazing.

  Sam was worried and he felt guilty. He had left the woman and child alone, and even with Derrell’s help they might have a difficult time dealing with Petty. He had been certain that he or Matt would be able to keep track of the gang in town. It was a miscalculation that Sam hoped wouldn’t be fatal.

  Sam led the way, though Matt kept pace. Neither had to check the trail to know where the Petty gang was headed. The only question was, could the blood brothers get to Lilly’s in time to save the boy?

  “How much head start do you think they have?” Matt yelled out, making his voice heard over the wind.

  “Maybe twenty minutes, more or less,” Sam hollered back. “No matter. It’s too long!”

  “We’ll make it. Petty won’t win this one!”

  “I should have stayed with Lilly . . . Derrell will have a tough time with that bunch . . .”

  “Don’t blame yourself! You know that they’re as safe as they can be.”

  “I probably should have kept them close to us!”

  “You know Lilly wouldn’t stand for that! You couldn’t keep her prisoner!”

  “I wish we could have kept her safer!”

  Sam’s face grew grim, his eyes harder, as he lowered his head into the wind and spurred his horse to greater speed.

  The outlaws were on Derrell, Lilly, and Tommy almost before they could react. Lilly had Tommy by the hand, and they were halfway to the door when the first riders galloped into the yard. One pair of strong hands reached out and swooped up Tommy and lifted him from the ground. Lilly screamed, and tried to hit at the outlaw.

  Conn laughed and kept on riding, the boy’s legs dangling behind him.

  Lilly screamed again, then remembered the gun in her apron. She reached down, clutched at it, but was interrupted by another set of hands grabbing her and pulling her off the ground. She tried to turn, but could not. Instead, she found herself pushed roughly facedown across the saddle in front of the rider. She didn’t have to look to know that it was King Petty who had seized her. No mask could disguise his identity.

  She tried to wriggle free, to get a firm grasp on the gun, but Petty held her too tightly. She just could not get the weapon in her hand.

  Lilly felt dirty just from his touch and wanted desperately to get away. From the angle she was facing, Lilly could not see her son, and she was worried about him. She couldn’t even see Derrell. Lilly wanted to scream again, but her throat was dry, making it impossible to even wet her lips.

  Derrell had seen the riders approach, pulled his gun and managed to squeeze off several shots. One of his bullets hit one of the outlaws; but he did not have the speed or accuracy of Sam, and the thug just kept coming.

  Derrell refused to step aside. He aimed more carefully, steadied his arm, and squeezed off a shot. This time, the bullet hit its target. The slug entered the outlaw’s chest, causing a splotch of red to appear on the shirt. He opened his mouth in surprise, but no sound came out. The man tried to raise his gun for another shot, but his fingers no longer worked. The gun slipped from his hand, and the outlaw fell from the saddle.

  The horse kept coming at Derrell. He tried to step out of the way at the last instant, but was sideswiped by the animal. He was knocked to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. Derrell rolled over to his knees, and started to stand, when the other outlaws arrived. Two of them slid off their horses and picked Derrell up, pinning his arms behind him. Horrified, he watched as Conn held the boy and Petty forced Lilly down on the saddle in front of him.

  Derrell struggled, but was unable to get away.

  The riders made several passes around the house and came back to report to Petty.

  “Nobody else here,” one said.

  “Everything’s clear,” another said.

  Petty nudged his horse forward, stopping in front of Derrell.

  “How nice,” he said. “Looks like we interrupted a little dinner here.”

  “Seems like you and your men are good at that,” Derrell answered.

  Petty kicked, hitting Derrell in the face with the toe of his boot. Blood gushed from Derrell’s nose.

  “Smart-ass. Just answer the
questions. Where are the others? Bodine and Two-Wolves?”

  “They’re around,” Derrell said. “Just wait a few minutes. You’ll see them soon enough.”

  Petty kicked again, threw the woman from the saddle and leaped to the ground. He punched Derrell repeatedly until he was barely conscious as the other men held him helpless. Finally, Petty said, “Let him go.”

  The two men stepped back. Petty started to walk away, then unexpectedly pivoted, pulling his gun.

  Lilly screamed, “No . . . not again!”

  Petty ignored her and fired. The bullet struck Derrell, spinning him around to the ground.

  Lilly finally pulled the gun from her apron pocket, but Petty was ahead of her. He grabbed her arm with one hand and took the gun with his other hand.

  “Sorry, Widow. Guns aren’t for women to play with.” Petty laughed. “I have something else for you!”

  She looked around, trying to get herself oriented. Derrell was motionless on the ground. Where was her son?

  “Why don’t you just leave us alone? Haven’t you done enough to us?”

  “Not enough to suit me!” Petty continued to laugh. “Or, unsuit me, if you will!” He pulled down his mask, putting his face close to hers. “I’ve been through hell because of you, Widow. I aim to enjoy you!”

  The others laughed with him.

  “What about the boy?” a harsh voice called out.

  “Let’s take care of him first. Give the widow a show. Then I’ll get down to the real business at hand! Bring the brat over here. By the tree.”

  The big man holding Tommy rode his horse slowly toward the center of the yard, then threw the boy to the ground. Tommy stood, staring at Petty and Conn.

  “Hand me the rope,” Petty ordered.

  Conn reached into his saddlebags and pulled out a rope already tied in a hangman’s noose.

  “I already took the liberty of preparing it,” Conn said. “Hope you don’t mind, King?”

  “Good man. You did a good job.” Petty walked around the boy and the tree, kicking what was left of the picnic out of the way. “This is a good sturdy tree. It should do the job.” He tossed the rope around an overhanging limb, adjusting it so that the noose dangled freely. “Bring the boy here.”