“You gotta listen to me!” said Benjy. “They’re gonna attack the town, the whole bunch of ’em! Dock Rakestraw and his men! I heard ’em!” The swamper’s stricken face peered past Monroe’s shoulder at Bill. “You gotta believe me! I’m tellin’ the truth!”
Hartnett said, “That old saloon rat wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him.” He started past Bill. “Don’t worry, I’ll throw him out—”
Bill stopped the liveryman with a firm hand on his arm. “Wait,” he said. He strode up the aisle. “Sorry, Eden,” he murmured as he passed her. He hoped she would forgive him, but every instinct in his body told him he needed to at least talk to Benjy and see what the man was babbling about.
Monroe let go of Benjy’s arm. The swamper clawed at the sleeve of Bill’s suit coat with both hands. “You gotta believe me, Bill,” he said. “I saw him. Dock Rakestraw! It took me a long time to remember, but I know it was him. I saw him one time at a tavern over in Missouri, and the folks there said he was a bad outlaw.”
“I believe you, Benjy,” said Bill. “But what’s some outlaw in Missouri got to do with Redemption?”
Benjy gulped. “He was here last night! In Fred’s saloon with another owlhoot. He said he was bringin’ his whole bunch to town today while you were gettin’ married.”
Monroe snorted. “This outlaw told you he was going to attack the town today?”
“N-no . . .” Benjy shook his head. “I heard him and the other fella talkin’ as they were leavin’ the saloon. I was sweepin’ the porch when they come out. I heard the other fella call him Dock, but I thought he was a doctor. I didn’t remember until . . . until a little while ago where I seen him before.” Benjy scratched his beard-stubbled jaw and looked apologetic. “My memory ain’t so good no more.”
Hartnett had come up beside Bill. He waved a hand at Benjy and said, “You can’t go by anything this old rummy says, Bill. It’s just some drunken dream he had.”
“No, it ain’t!” insisted Benjy. “Rakestraw said he was bringin’ his whole bunch to town today . . . and he’s got Zach Norris with him!”
Bill stiffened. So did Eden. “Norris!” she said. “But he’s bound to be dead.”
Bill glanced over at her and shook his head. “We don’t know that. All we know for sure is that he was wounded when he rode out of here. That was weeks ago. He could’ve recovered from what happened to him that night, just like your father and I did.”
One of the townsmen spoke up, saying, “I’ve heard rumors it was Rakestraw’s gang that’s been rustling cattle from the trail herds as they come through here.”
“Anybody know what he looks like?” asked Bill.
Benjy’s hand tightened on his arm. “I do! I saw him last night. He’s got long hair, down over his shoulders like a woman, and a beard that sticks out a mite.”
Bill drew in a deep breath. The memory of the man he had seen on the night of the stampede, the man who had shot at him, was still vivid in his mind. Benjy didn’t have any way of knowing that, though. For the description of the man he was talking about to match so closely, there had to be something to what the swamper was saying.
An idea occurred to Bill. He said, “There’s an easy way to find out if Benjy’s right. If Rakestraw is going to raid the town with a whole gang, their horses are bound to be kicking up quite a bit of dust. Let’s go have a look.”
“You don’t really believe him—” Hartnett began.
“It won’t take but a minute to have a look,” said Bill. He smiled at Eden. “I’ll be right back.”
She managed to smile as she nodded.
Bill walked out of the church with Benjy hurrying along beside him, still babbling. “Should’a figured it out sooner, I just forgot, I just forgot, my brain don’t always work so good no more, I knew I’d seen him somewhere before—”
“Don’t worry about it, Benjy,” said Bill.
“But I ruined your weddin’!”
“No, we’ll get back to the wedding in a little bit.” Bill stopped in the middle of the street and peered east and west, shading his eyes from the midafternoon sun with his hand. He didn’t see anything unusual when he looked to the east.
But there was a cloud of dust boiling up west of town, about half a mile away.
Perry Monroe, Josiah Hartnett, and several other men had followed Bill out of the church. Monroe looked at the dust and muttered, “My God! Do you really think—”
Tension suddenly filled Bill. “Get everybody out of the church,” he snapped at Monroe and Hartnett. “Tell everybody to go home, fast! The men need to get their guns and get ready to fight.”
“But . . . but you’re the marshal,” one of the men said.
“And this is your town,” said Bill. “Don’t you think it’s time you stood up and defended it?”
“Bill’s right,” said Monroe. “We let him take on Porter and Norris when we should’ve done it ourselves. For God’s sake, he can’t fight a whole gang of outlaws by himself!”
Hartnett said, “I’ll get my shotgun as soon as we’ve started the people clearing out of the church.”
“Get moving,” Bill ordered. “We don’t have much time.”
Shouts of warning rang out as the men hurried back into the church. More commotion arose as people began piling out of the building.
The outlaws would be here in a matter of minutes. Bill didn’t know how many of the citizens would stand with him against them, but he hoped enough would take up arms to make a difference.
“Find cover!” he called to the men who ran past him. “Rakestraw and his men won’t be expecting a fight! We can take them by surprise! Let ’em come into town and then open fire! Pass the word!”
He was about to start toward the marshal’s office to grab a rifle when suddenly Eden was beside him, clutching his arm. She had thrown the wedding veil back so he could see her face as she looked up tensely at him.
“I’m coming with you,” she said.
“No, you go with your pa—”
“Damn it, Bill! I haven’t even married you yet. I’m not going to let you get killed. I can shoot a gun—”
He pulled her toward him, brought his mouth down on hers in a hard, swift kiss. “I appreciate that,” he told her as he stepped back, “but you go with your pa.”
Before she could argue, he pushed her into Perry Monroe’s arms. Monroe started leading her away. Eden struggled and looked back over her shoulder at Bill, but she couldn’t get away from her father.
He ran toward the marshal’s office, casting a glance toward the western end of Main Street as he did so. The street had cleared amazingly fast as people scurried for cover. The dust cloud that marked the location of the approaching riders was only a few hundred yards away from town now.
Panting from the effort of keeping up, Benjy Cobb ran along with Bill. “Gimme a gun,” he begged. “I can shoot.”
“You’re gonna watch the jail for me, Benjy,” Bill said as they reached the marshal’s office. “If those outlaws get past me, you’ll have to protect the place.”
“Really?”
“You bet. I’m counting on you.”
Benjy nodded. “I won’t let you down, Bill. I swear.”
Bill yanked one of the Winchesters out of the rack on the wall behind the desk, pulled a box of cartridges from a drawer, and started thumbing bullets into the rifle. When it was full, he crammed more rounds into the pockets of his coat. As he stepped to the door, he looked back at Benjy and said, “You did good by coming to the church and warning us. You may have saved the town.”
“Me?”
Bill flashed him a grin. “You.”
Then he opened the door and walked outside, striding purposefully to the middle of the street. He could see the riders galloping into the far end of town and knew they could see him, too. For a brief second, he thought, What if they aren’t outlaws?
Then the raiders opened fire and there was no longer any doubt. Bill flung the Winchester to his shoulder and start
ed working the rifle’s lever and throwing lead at the outlaws as he ran back toward the office. They charged him recklessly, just as he had hoped they would. As far as they could tell, only one man was defending Redemption.
Then a huge volley of gunfire roared out from the buildings on both sides of Main Street as all hell broke loose.
Chapter 29
Bill felt the wind-rip of bullets around his head as he dived back through the open door of the marshal’s office. He rolled, twisted around, and knelt in the doorway to return the fire. Several of the gang’s horses were down already, kicking and screaming from the wounds they had received, and a couple of the outlaws lay motionless in the street as well.
But most of the men were still mounted and fighting back now against the unexpected resistance. Windows shattered as slugs punched through them, and Bill knew some of the defenders would be wounded, probably even killed, before this fight was over.
The people of Redemption were fighting, though, fighting as they never had before. Maybe his lone stand in the face of the charging desperadoes had inspired them, or maybe they had just found the true strength that had been inside them all along. Either way, for today, at least, they weren’t going to allow evil to run roughshod over them as they had with Frank Porter and Zach Norris.
Bill’s ears searched the chaos in the street for Norris but couldn’t find him. Dust and powder smoke clogged the air, increasing the confusion. Bill aimed at several of the outlaws and cranked off three rounds, but he couldn’t tell if any of his shots had found their target.
One of the mounted men suddenly loomed out of the swirling dust and smoke right in front of the marshal’s office. The gun in his hand spouted flame as he fired at Bill. The slugs chewed splinters from the doorframe that stung Bill’s face as he lunged aside. He got a good look at the long hair flying around the man’s head and the beard jutting from his chin, and then those features dissolved in a crimson spray as Bill shot him twice in the face with the Winchester. The man went backward out of the saddle as if he’d been slapped by a giant hand.
Dock Rakestraw, if that was his name, would never stampede another herd of cattle.
Another man galloped past the marshal’s office. Bill caught just a glimpse of him, but that was enough for him to recognize Zach Norris. Benjy had been right about that, too, thought Bill as he snapped a shot at Norris. The former deputy’s horse didn’t break stride as it vanished around a corner.
Somehow, Bill knew where Norris was going. The Monroe house lay in that direction. Bill surged to his feet and ran after him. Shooting continued behind him, but not at such a fast and furious pace now. The defenders had the advantages of both numbers and shelter. Bill was confident the citizens of Redemption would emerge from this battle triumphant, now that they had found their courage.
The slight limp in his bad leg slowed him down a little. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as he thought about what might happen if Norris reached the Monroe house too far ahead of him. Thankfully, it wasn’t far, only a few blocks. But even so, as he ran toward the house as fast as he could, he saw Norris’s horse standing in front of the gate with an empty saddle.
The front door of the house was wide open, too.
As Bill started up the walk, Norris suddenly appeared in the doorway with Eden held in front of him in the white wedding dress. His left arm was brutally tight around her neck. His right hand pressed the barrel of a Colt into her side. Bill skidded to a halt at the terrible sight.
“Eden . . . ?” he said.
“She’s fine, you son of a bitch,” said Norris, “but she won’t be if you don’t drop that rifle.”
Bill hesitated. He didn’t have a good enough shot at Norris to risk it. With no other option, he tossed the Winchester to the ground in front of him.
Norris looked like he’d been sick, and as a wracking cough suddenly came from him, Bill realized he still was. Norris might have recovered from his wounds, but he would never be the same man as he’d been before. That gave Bill a tiny sliver of hope.
“What are you gonna do now?” he asked. “Shoot me down without even giving me a chance?”
“A chance to what? Draw against me?”
“I’ve been practicing,” said Bill. “I think I can take you, Norris.”
That brought a harsh laugh from Norris and a tiny shake of the head from Eden. Bill could tell she was pleading silently with him not to do this, but it seemed to him like the best chance to get her out of the line of fire.
“No damn Texan was ever born that could beat me to the draw,” said Norris. “Sure as hell not some cowboy.”
“Only one way to find out,” said Bill.
Norris’s mouth twisted in a snarl. With a curse, he gave Eden a hard, abrupt shove that sent her plunging off the porch and down the steps. She cried out as she fell, but she was able to catch herself as she sprawled on the ground between Bill and Norris.
Bill would have reached for his gun then, but in a flash of movement too fast for his eye to follow, Norris already had him covered. The Colt was leveled and pointed right at him. Norris might be sick, but his hand was steady as a rock.
He grinned as he lowered the gun and slid it back in the holster. “All right, Tex,” he began, “we’ll just see—”
Bill didn’t wait. He grabbed the Colt behind his belt and dragged it out with all the speed he could muster.
He was faster than he’d ever been, but not fast enough to get off the first shot. His gun roared just a hair behind Norris’s weapon, though. Something slammed into his side, knocked him back a step.
On the porch, Norris took a staggering step. Blood welled onto the chest of his shirt where Bill’s bullet had driven deep into his body. He stayed on his feet, grimacing as he tried to lift his gun and line up a second shot.
Bill felt a great weakness washing through him. He knew he had only instants before his strength was gone. He pointed his Colt at Norris, but before he could pull the trigger, a rifle cracked sharply. Norris doubled over as a slug ripped through his guts.
Bill fired again, putting a bullet through Norris’s brain. The man finally fell, already dead when he thudded against the porch planks.
Bill looked down, saw Eden on her knees with the Winchester in her hands. She had grabbed up the rifle and fired that shot. She threw it down now and scrambled to her feet, turning to Bill and reaching out for him.
“Took us both,” he croaked, feeling the warm trickle of blood on his side, “but we . . . got the varmint.”
Her arms went around him, steadying him. Their faces were only inches apart. As he looked into her blue eyes, trying to make her see how much he loved her even though he couldn’t talk anymore, she said, “Don’t you die on me, cowboy. Don’t you dare die on me.”
When Bill woke up, he found himself naked between clean sheets in the bedroom he’d been using at the Monroe house. This was getting to be a habit, he thought before a feeling of amazement that he was still alive went through him.
He lifted the sheet. Yep, naked, he thought, except for the bandages wrapped tightly around his midsection. Every time he took a breath, he felt a little twinge of pain in his side. He winced.
“You’ve got a cracked rib,” said Perry Monroe. “Norris’s bullet glanced off it. But that saved your life, so it’s a pretty small price to pay, I suppose.”
Bill turned his head and saw the storekeeper sitting in a rocking chair. Monroe’s left arm was bandaged and in a sling, but other than that he seemed to be all right.
“Eden . . . ?” Bill asked.
“She’s fine. Upset that she got grass stains on her mother’s wedding gown, not to mention a considerable amount of your blood, but she’ll be all right.” Monroe’s voice softened. “All she really cares about is you, son.”
“Where is she?”
“Helping out in town.” Monroe’s face and voice grew solemn. “You and I weren’t the only ones hurt in that fight, you know.”
“How bad is it?”
<
br /> “Two men were killed, and a dozen more wounded, some of them pretty bad. But we came out of it in a lot better shape than those outlaws. They were wiped out to the last man.”
Bill closed his eyes for a moment. Monroe was right. He was sorry for the losses the people of Redemption had suffered, but it could have been much worse. It would have been, if they hadn’t found the courage to fight at last.
When he opened his eyes again, Bill said, “I reckon Norris must’ve winged you.”
“Yeah. He hit me bad enough to put me out of the fight, but Eden patched me up. I’ll have to hire somebody to help out at the store, but it was high time I did that, anyway. Benjy Cobb, maybe. He could use a job where he’s not around liquor all the time.”
Bill nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.” He paused. “I sure hope Eden isn’t too mad at me.”
“Why in the world would she be?”
“Well, the wedding is ruined now.”
Monroe shook his head. “Postponed, not ruined. Eden says you’ll be up and around in a few days.” He smiled. “I suspect that as soon as you’re able to stand, we’ll all be down there at the church again. She wants to marry you before anything else has a chance to happen!”
“That sounds good to me—” Bill began, but before he could finish he heard the front door of the house open and close. Light footsteps hurried down the hall.
“I got back as soon as I could,” said Eden as she appeared in the doorway. “Is Bill—”
Then she saw he was awake, and with a happy cry she rushed to the bed and threw her arms around him.
With a chuckle, Monroe got to his feet while Eden pressed kisses to Bill’s face. “I reckon you two are close enough to married to leave you alone for a while,” he said. He patted his daughter’s shoulder and left the room.
Eden wound up lying on the bed next to Bill with her head pillowed on his shoulder. She still wore the grass- and bloodstained wedding gown. With his arms around her, he said, “This isn’t quite the way I pictured things.”
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