Curtis sighted the barrel to a building several paces down the street. “I’ll be damned,” he said. “That bird has gray eyes?”
Bardwell moved closer to see just how far away the bird was. The lawman could plainly see the bird roosting at the corner of the distant building, but could not make out its features. He stuck the weapon up in the window for a look himself. Sure enough, lined up in the crosshairs was a bird with gray eyes standing on the ledge of what doubled as a theater here in town.
“What do you think, Sir?” Ritchie asked.
Bardwell smiled. “That should do, huh?”
Curtis was busy in the window getting used to the optics the rifle sported. He looked something like a kid on Christmas morning with a big smile on his face.
“What else you got in there?” Curtis asked, glancing at the drab green box on the floor.
“A few more things, Sir,” Castro smiled. “But we’ll let them be for the time being.”
“That will be fine, Son,” Bardwell said. “I think that Franklin and I will have our hands full with these for the time?”
Castro retrieved a sight glass of some sort and had a scan of the street with his brother at his side with one of the hammerless rifles at the ready.
“Anything…?” Ritchie asked.
“Maybe,” Castro said. “There’s a fellow spending an awful lot of time watching from that building just to the right of the livery?”
Bardwell moved closer for a look down the street. The lawman saw nothing but trusted the two young men and their devices.
“Maybe Franklin and I should take us a walk and see what he’s up to?” Bardwell said to no one in particular.
“It might be a good idea,” Castro said, continuing to scan the environment for threats.
Curtis looked over. “Are we taking these down there with us?” he asked.
“Our Colts will do just fine, Son,” Bardwell said, nearly laughing.
The brothers nodded.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Bardwell stepped out onto the porch for a nervous glance at his timepiece. It was just now dinner and Karsyn was busy in her kitchen. He bit off a wad of chew leaning against the painted clapboards.
Curtis stepped out striking a sulfur match on the porch railing. He put the flame to the stub of a cigar clenched in his teeth. “How do you want to do this, Sir?” he asked in a hushed voice, in the case that others might overhear.
Bardwell smiled looking up to the clearing sky and the winter warm sun overhead. He stretched a tired shoulder. “Let’s take us a walk over yonder, maybe?” he said, starting off the porch to the east.
Curtis didn’t respond. They were walking away from the window where the boys had noticed the curious fellow peering in their direction. It wouldn’t do any good to say anything. He already knew where the lawman was going.
The lawman walked casually taking in the few sights the small border town offered. Bardwell crossed the street at the mercantile dodging between the buildings for the alley behind. Curtis followed through the shadows.
Once out of sight of the gentleman peering through the bubbled glass window of the shop down the street, the lawman quickened his pace returning to the west end of the street. The lawmen said nothing moving behind the buildings. No one seemed to notice the pair as they skirted their way west.
Bardwell held up a hand and tried the back door. It was open. Curtis nodded pulling one of his long barreled Peacemakers.
Other than the gentleman crouching low in the window, there was no one inside of the nearly empty building.
Like his partner earlier, the fellow froze hearing three clicks from behind as the lawmen thumbed back the hammers of the weapons in their hands. He didn’t say a word as he lay the rifle down in the dust next to where he knelt by the window.
“You mind explaining to us why you’re looking in our direction with a rifle in your hand, Mister?” Bardwell asked, spitting on the dusty floor.
“I ain’t doing anything,” the man said. “I’m just watching over my property.”
Curtis laughed. “And you just happen to own that little house down the street there that you’re so intent on watching?”
“Fuck you, Boy,” the man said, getting to his feet.
Bardwell nodded. Curtis tossed the Colt in his right hand into the air catching it by the barrel and taking it forward to the gentleman’s face. The young lawman continued downward holstering both of his weapons and striking the man again.
The gentleman spit blood, rubbing his eye.
“This man just asked you a question motherfucker,” Curtis said, in a low voice as not to be heard outside of the dusty room. “And you’re fixing to answer him.”
“Fuck the both of you,” the man said, flinging a drunken roundhouse swing at them.
Bardwell caught the hand taking it around behind the man’s back and pushing it high threatening to snap the shoulder. “You reckon that you want any more, Mister?” he asked.
The gentleman shook his head in the negative. Bardwell started him for the door and the little house just up the street.
“You reckon there’s any more that we should be watching for, Sir?” Curtis asked on the walk back.
“There’s no telling, Son,” Bardwell said. “But I believe the other two will see them before long if there are?”
Castro and Ritchie were on the porch when the lawmen returned. “See any others?” Bardwell asked.
“No, Sir,” Castro said. “But we’ll keep looking.”
“Are we tying this one up too?” Curtis asked.
Bardwell nodded. “Yeah, hell,” he said. “That ought to keep him out of trouble for a while?”
The brothers went back to scanning the neighborhood for any possible threats. Bardwell took a seat near the two men sitting the floor with their hands tied behind their back.
“You boys working alone?” the lawman asked, watching the expression on their faces. It wasn’t so much what they would say as what their eyes would say.
The one gentleman had a gag in his mouth and could not answer. The other chose not to talk.
“Are you working for the law?” Bardwell asked.
Both gentlemen drew their eyes down into narrow slits giving Bardwell the answer that he was looking for. He got up walking to the door. The boys followed him out away from the porch a few steps.
“What’d they say?” Curtis asked.
“They didn’t,” Bardwell said. “But I think the local Sheriff or at least some of his men may be in on this one. He may be loyal to Butterfield or some of his bunch?”
“Why don’t we pay them a visit, Sir?” Curtis asked, drawing on his cigar.
Bardwell shook his head. “I don’t know if I’m right in my thinking? They could be on the good side of the law and just watching over four cowboys that blew in on the wind?”
“These local elected officials are the biggest pain in the ass, huh?” Curtis said to no one in particular.
“They can be,” Castro said. “My brother and I have had our share of bumbling country bumpkins.”
“So what’s the plan, Sir?” Curtis asked.
“We just keep on as we are,” Bardwell said.
“But what about those fellows tied on the floor?” Curtis shot back.
“We leave them right where they are,” Bardwell said. “If they are friendly with Butterfield or some of his bunch, they’ll run right off and tell them who we are, what we’ve got in mind. They’ll blow what little cover we have.” He paused in reflection. “If they’re with the law, again, they’ll both go blabbing what they know and give us away.”
“He’s right,” Ritchie said. “Just let them be. We’ll be moving out soon enough and someone will come along to find them.”
“You got any flour sacks, young lady?” Bardwell asked.
“I do,” she said. “How many will you need?”
“Two,” he said. “I reckon that we should cover these fellows up before we decide to start moving around to
o much.”
“The sun should be down by five,” Castro said. “When should we start thinking about getting them saddled?”
Bardwell glanced at the timepiece hanging on a polished silver chain. “It’s just after three o’clock now,” he said. “We might want to start thinking about it soon.”
“We’ll get our horses up here first and tie them to the fence out front,” Ritchie said. “And then you and Franklin can go and fetch yours?”
“The two of you start out from here riding west,” Bardwell said. “Franklin and I will start out from the barn, never bringing our animals up here.”
“I don’t want to load those pack boxes until we’re ready to ride,” Castro said. “They’ll be safer in here.”
“Young lady, Jaxen,” Bardwell said, motioning for them to follow. He stepped back out to the street where no one would hear.
“Yes, Sir,” Castro said, following the young woman.
“You get your things ready,” Bardwell said to Karsyn. “Just as soon as the sun goes down, we’ll see to it that you get to the boardinghouse and up to one of our rooms for the night. Now, Son,” he said continuing. “I’m going to want to use your hat and coat to cover up your cousin here?”
“All right,” Castro said. “You just tell me when.”
“We won’t talk of it inside,” Bardwell said, “as I don’t want those two to overhear any of it.”
The cousins nodded their heads in agreement, as they started back for the little house.
Time moved ever so slowly for the four lawmen and Karsyn. Bardwell spent most of the two hours sitting on the porch steps chewing tobacco and talking with the young folk as they stepped out for fresh air.
Curtis paced back and forth along the side of the house smoking one of his cigars. Bardwell understood the nerves the boy was feeling just then, as he too had been a young lawman once upon a time.
Neither of the brothers looked to be all that much better, but they were holding up under the stress of waiting.
“Sir,” Ritchie finally said, breaking the silence. “The two of us are going after our horses if that will be okay, with you?”
Bardwell looked up into the early evening sky aa a tired sun was disappearing behind the range. “You go ahead, Son,” he said. “One shot if you run into any trouble.”
“Yes, Sir,” Ritchie said. He and his brother started for the livery down the street. Tulare was more or less quiet, and Bardwell didn’t figure there would be any trouble.
The notes from the piano at the saloon could be heard after a change in wind direction. Bardwell sat listening to the music wondering what the night would bring.
“Like a drink, Sir?” Curtis asked, pulling the plug from a bottle and taking a good long pull of the whiskey.
“Sure,” Bardwell said, reaching out for the bottle.
“The girl,” Curtis asked, in a low voice as he sat on the steps waiting for the hour to get started.
“Soon,” Bardwell said, watching the distant sunset in a dirty western sky.
The brothers walked their saddled mounts in the street tying them to the fence out front. The lawmen talked in the yard as Karsyn joined them.
“Are you ready, Cousin?” Castro asked.
“I am,” she said smiling.
She and Castro retired upstairs to get her dressed for the charade they hoped to pull off. Bardwell, Curtis, and Ritchie waited in the yard watching the doorways and windows nearby for any sign of trouble.
A cowboy in a black hat and canvas slicker dropped a pair of well-seasoned leather bags on the porch steps. The cowboy spit keeping his head down. Bardwell nodded and the cowboy stepped forward for the walk up to the boardinghouse. Curtis carried one of the bags with Ritchie carrying the other. Dark had settled over the border town. No one was the wiser.
“Now you don’t open this door for anyone,” Bardwell said. “Except for one of us, you hear?”
“You have five shots in that pistol,” Curtis said, leaning on the door. “But don’t use it unless you have to.”
Karsyn nodded her agreement, removing the hat and coat the lawmen would return to her cousin.
“It’s just after five now,” Bardwell said. “We should be able to ride out and do what it is that we have to do and return before that coach on the morrow?”
“Sir,” Ritchie said. “It’s a four-hour ride just to get there?”
“Three if we hustle,” Bardwell said. “Franklin and I have traveled the road twice now.”
“One or all of us will return for you in a few hours,” Bardwell said one last time. “You should be fine till then?”
“No lamps,” Ritchie advised. “And keep the window bolted.”
The girl tucked herself in the corner between the bed and wall pulling the two bags closer. She laid the pistol on top one of the bags and nodded. She smiled.
Three lawmen walked back to the little house with the painted fence. Castro was inside making ready to be away from this border town.
The two shooters had been gagged and their heads covered with a flour sack to keep them from seeing what transpired.
“Turn up all of the lamps in these two rooms,” Bardwell said. “And one room upstairs. That should keep them wondering for a piece.”
Castro and Ritchie were busy with the green pack boxes outside in the yard. “Is that about it, Sir?” Curtis asked.
“It is, Son,” Bardwell said, making ready to turn his back on the border town for good.
The brothers were inside after getting their mounts ready to travel. “Are we ready, Sir?” Ritchie asked.
“I believe that we are,” Bardwell answered. “You boys start out first. Franklin I and will meet up with you just outside of town.”
The brothers started away with Bardwell and Curtis watching from the porch. The sun had gone down in a clear sky with no threat of rain.
“It’s going to be a long night, Sir before we get back into town,” Curtis said, reaching back to pull the door shut.
“I’m afraid that you might be right, Son,” Bardwell said, steering around to the side of the house.
The brothers had ridden west out of town for everyone to see. Bardwell and Curtis used the alley to conceal their intentions. They’d use the path less traveled in getting to the livery and their animals.
“I got them saddled for you,” the stable boy said, greeting the lawmen at the door, “You’re partners said that you’d be coming for them soon.”
“You did good, Son,” Bardwell rubbing the boy’s head. “You put these down in your pockets for safe keeping. The lawman handed over two large silver coins for the livery and one smaller for the boy.
“Thanks, Mister,” the boy said, stepping back to allow the lawmen to lead their animals out of the barn and into the dark night outside.
“Will you be coming back, Mister?” the boy asked.
“Probably not, Son,” Bardwell said, getting a foot in the stirrup. Curtis was already mounted in the street. “You take care of yourself, you hear?” the lawman said, swinging his mount to the west.
“I will, Mister,” the boy said. “If you ever ride back through these parts, you be sure and stop by.”
Bardwell smiled. “I’ll be sure and do that,” he said, looking back at the little town behind. Oil lamps flickered yellow light from the windows of the small border outpost.
It wasn’t far out of town to where the brothers waited at a lonely crossroad in the middle of nowhere. Rejoined, the lawmen circled back around the border town to the east and the abandoned penitentiary known as Ironwood. Little was said as they started into the journey with each mulling over the other possible outcomes.
They continued into the darkness single file at times and riding two or three abreast at others with Bardwell riding point and leading the unsaddled spare. At times, Ritchie would ride ahead to confer with the lawman about one thing or another but mostly followed quietly.
Curtis and Castro talked to pass the miles with Castro leading the pack ho
rse and Curtis riding alongside.
“So what you going to do,” Curtis asked. “When all of this is over, I mean?”
“My brother and I are both hoping for a little time off?” Castro replied. “You…?”
Curtis thought for a moment before answering. “I guess the same,” he said. “You think that we’ll cross paths again, Jaxen?”
Castro laughed, careful to keep the sound of his voice down. “I’m sure that we will someday, Franklin.”
The four lawmen continued east through the night keeping to the blistering pace Bardwell had set for them. There was a lot to do in ten hours and six of those would be riding to and from.
Bright stars filled a blackened purple sky overhead. There was no moon. There hadn’t been one in decades. The lawmen traveled by starlight and starlight only.
Nathaniel Butterfield and his Red Owl Mining Company may have known of the visit the lawmen were planning and they may not have. There was no way of knowing for sure. Would the lawmen surprise their host and get the upper hand? Surely, not with two back in town taking random shots at the young woman’s little house.
“What will happen to your cousin,” Curtis asked. “Once we all make it home?”
Castro thought on the question for a moment. “I don’t know if I can answer that, Franklin,” he said. “I guess that it all depends on her, what she chooses to do?”
“Did you mean what you said earlier,” Curtis asked. “What you said about you and your brother would find a place for her to live in the city when this is over?”
“I did,” Castro said. “But I don’t know yet whether she’ll take us up on the offer?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The dark miles passed unnoticed as the lawmen neared their objective. As they drew closer to Ironwood, the nervous chatter abated.
Bardwell drew rein cresting the final hill. Across the valley lay the fortress that was once the federal penitentiary, Ironwood. All four lawmen paused looking over the block and iron walls they would have to penetrate to complete their mission. Ritchie and Castro sat their mounts in awe. They had not seen the fortress.
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