Back From Boot Hill

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Back From Boot Hill Page 7

by Colin Bainbridge


  ‘We’re ready for Rockwell,’ Hellawell said, observing him. ‘The boys know what to do. They’ve each got their station. We’ve assigned some of them to the outbuildings and we’ve got a lookout to give us a warning.’

  ‘He didn’t do a very good job lookin’ out for us,’ Jordan remarked.

  ‘He’s watchin’ for a whole big bunch of riders. Don’t worry; he’d soon recognize Rockwell and his crew.’

  Tulane looked across at the rancher. ‘You’ve done right to make preparations, but are you sure you want to face up to Rockwell right here?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I’m thinkin’ you might have done what you can to defend the ranch, but the initiative is still with Rockwell. Besides, you might get cooped up. Rockwell could try burnin’ you out or even layin siege to the place.’

  Loman stroked his chin before glancing at his foreman. ‘Tulane might have a point. What do you think, Hellawell?’

  ‘I’m more used to ranchin’ than fightin’, but I can see what he’s drivin’ at.’

  Loman turned back to Tulane. ‘OK,’ he said, ‘what would you suggest as an alternative?’

  ‘Durin’ the war I learned a few things. One was never to let your opponent dictate terms. Another was to choose the battle site and make sure you had the commanding position. A third was to provide yourself with a way of retreat.’

  ‘Makes a lot of sense,’ Loman said. ‘Have you got somewhere in mind that would meet with your requirements?’

  ‘This is your spread,’ Tulane replied. ‘You know the place.’

  Loman nodded and looked across at Hellawell. ‘What do you think?’ he said. ‘Can you suggest some location that would suit?’

  Hellawell thought for a moment. ‘There’s the west range,’ he said. ‘There’s some pretty rough country out that way.’

  Loman considered the suggestion before addressing Tulane again. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Maybe we should move to the west range. On the other hand, as you said, Rockwell could be on his way even now. We haven’t got a lot of time to play with. Maybe we should just stay where we are after all.’

  ‘We’ve certainly got to act pretty quickly,’ Tulane said.

  ‘I think Tulane is right,’ Jordan interjected.

  Loman’s features were drawn. ‘This sort of situation is new to us,’ he said. ‘I just don’t know what to do for the best. You seem to have more experience of this kind of thing than we have.’

  Tulane finished the last of his drink and placed the glass down. ‘Matter of fact,’ he said, ‘I have been givin’ the subject some thought and I’ve got a suggestion to make.’

  ‘Go ahead. What is it?’

  ‘That big butte, Sawn-Off Mountain. There must be plenty of places up there offering good cover. We could choose a spot where we’d have a clear view of Rockwell’s men and be able to retreat if we needed to.’

  Loman turned to Hellawell. ‘Have you been up there?’ he asked.

  ‘No, but maybe someone has.’

  Loman’s features were tight with concentration. ‘We’d be leavin’ the ranch house exposed,’ he said.

  ‘Rockwell wouldn’t destroy the ranch house. After all, he wants the place for himself. Once he finds there’s nobody here, he’ll soon be on his way again.’

  ‘What makes you think he’d head for Sawn-Off Mountain?’

  ‘You won’t get far without leavin’ a trail a sugarfoot could follow. He’ll come right on after you.’

  ‘Hell,’ Loman said, ‘I just don’t know, so I figure the best thing is to defer to Tulane. Hellawell, round up the men and let them know what’s happenin’.’

  ‘Sure, Mr Loman.’

  The foreman got to his feet and walked to the door. As he opened it they heard the sound of hoofs as a horseman galloped into the yard. Hellawell turned back. ‘It’s Wilson. Looks like trouble.’ He flung the door wide as the rider jumped from the saddle and dashed into the room.

  ‘What is it?’ Loman rasped.

  ‘They’re comin’,’ Wilson said. ‘They’re still aways off but they’re comin’.’

  Loman turned to face Tulane and Jordan. ‘Looks like we’re too late,’ he said. ‘We’re gonna have to face Rockwell and his gang right here after all.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Tulane replied. ‘Better tell your boys to get ready.’

  Loman turned to Hellawell and the newcomer. ‘Tell the boys to take up their positions,’ he snapped. ‘Well done, Wilson. You did a good job.’ The two men rushed out of the door.

  ‘Where do you want us?’ Tulane said.

  ‘I don’t know. I figure you know better than me. Do what you think is best.’

  Tulane thought for a moment. ‘What do you reckon?’ he asked the ostler.

  Jordan shrugged. ‘I agree with Loman. I figure you know best.’

  Tulane took another few moments to think before responding. They could hear movement outside and then the sound of feet clattering up the steps. A number of men entered, glancing curiously at Tulane and Jordan. Loman quickly introduced them.

  ‘They’re here to help,’ he said.

  Hellawell was carrying two rifles. ‘I took the liberty of gettin’ these from your horses,’ he said, handing them over.

  The men began to fan out and take up their positions beside the shuttered windows. A few of them ran up the stairs. Tulane watched them for a moment before addressing Jordan.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘follow me.’

  With a nod in the direction of Loman he moved to the door, followed by the ostler. Wilson’s horse had been taken to the stables and, looking in that direction, he could see more of Loman’s ranch hands taking up their stations. From what he had heard and seen, he was fairly confident that the rancher had positioned his men well, covering most of the ground in front of the ranch house. However, he was pretty sure that Rockwell wouldn’t be reckless enough to ride straight in. He would be more likely to come as far as he could while remaining out of gunshot before placing his own men. His idea was to try and outflank Rockwell and to do that he needed to find some more advanced position that would offer cover. He considered the large tree at the side of the building but it wasn’t where he wanted to be. He was gratified to see a man already high in its branches. The rising ground just beyond it offered possibilities. The ridge was sufficiently high to conceal anyone behind it.

  ‘What do you think?’ Tulane said to Jordan. ‘Do you reckon you’d be OK here?’

  ‘Sure, but what about you?’ Jordan replied.

  ‘I want to get at them with a cross-fire,’ Tulane replied. He looked in the opposite direction. All he could see was a pile of logs next to a water trough with some low bushes near by. He pointed it out to the ostler.

  ‘It ain’t much, but it will have to do,’ he replied.

  ‘Looks kind of exposed to me.’

  ‘It’ll do. It gives me a clear view. No-one would be able to get close without me seein’ them.’

  Jordan looked back at the ranch house and the outbuildings. ‘I reckon you might be in more danger from back there,’ he said.

  Tulane grinned. ‘Most of ’em don’t know us. Let’s just hope they remember which side we’re on.’

  The ostler hefted his rifle and moved way to take up his post. From where he was standing, Tulane could not see him. He ran over to the water trough and crouching behind it, began to check his .44s, straining his ears as he did so to catch the first sounds of the approaching riders.

  He didn’t have long to wait. Soon, he detected a distant rumbling that came and went on the breeze. If he hadn’t known that Rockwell and his gang of gunslicks were on their way, he might have mistaken it for a roll of thunder. Involuntarily, he glanced up at the sky. The rain had eased but heavy clouds presaged more to come. He glanced across the open space between him and Jordan but the ostler remained well hidden. He looked back at the ranch house. The windows were open but the shutters remained closed; he knew that at the right moment they would b
e flung open to release a storm of gunfire from within. Behind the ranch house, the outbuildings gave no indication of the men concealed there.

  He strained his eyes to catch a first glimpse of the marauding party but as yet could see nothing. Ahead of him the view was obscured by a fine mist but the drum of hoofbeats was loud despite the muddy ground. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a flash of movement as the man in the tree waved his hat. He had obviously caught his first glimpse of Rockwell’s party.

  Soon the drumming of hoofbeats was augmented by the creak of leather. Tulane heard voices and horses neighed. The sounds diminished and stopped; Rockwell’s men had come to a halt. Tulane had hoped they would advance further, coming within closer range of himself and Jordan, but Rockwell was no fool. It was strange, hearing what was going on near by but not being able to see anything.

  Then Tulane caught a flicker of movement and a flash of colour. Some of Rockwell’s men were inching their way forward but they were not offering a target. He considered taking a pot-shot but he realized it would be just a waste of a bullet. He would have his opportunity soon enough. Right now he needed to concentrate closely in order not to be outflanked, although he had a pretty good view all round and there was little in the way of cover in the immediate vicinity.

  Tulane didn’t have time to pursue his thoughts any further, however, because the peace was soon shattered by an explosion of gunfire from Rockwell’s men in front of the ranch house. Bullets whizzed through the air above his head, embedding themselves in the ranch house walls. The shutters were flung aside and an answering hail of lead sang through the air. Stabs of flame appeared at all the windows as a barrage of sound battered at Tulane’s ears. Smoke billowed across the yard. Shots began to ring out from a position above him and, looking up, he saw the man in the tree pumping away with his rifle. The man shouted something but his words were lost in the general cacophony of noise. He began to wave his arms and Tulane guessed that Rockwell was mounting some kind of offensive. There was a fresh burst of fire in front of him and Tulane caught glimpses of figures moving about.

  Raising his rifle and choosing a target, he squeezed the trigger. The man was moving quickly and Tulane had no way of knowing whether or not his bullet had found its mark. It was of little consequence, because he was suddenly involved in a furore of battle. Bullets had been screaming harmlessly high and wide, but now they began to kick up the earth near by. A couple of shots ricocheted from the metal trough and another one ploughed into the water, sending up a hiss of steam. Tulane was firing quickly, pausing only to reload as the rifle grew hot in his hands.

  Crouching low, he lifted his head to survey the scene. He could now see some of Rockwell’s men moving through the brush towards the side of the ranch house. They were being careless. His rifle jammed and, throwing it aside, he drew his Colts. Drawing a bead on one of the gunmen, he squeezed the trigger. It was a difficult shot, but this time he saw the man fling up his arms and sink to the ground. He fired off another shot but didn’t wait to see whether he had hit his target as rifle fire began to crack and more lead came singing close by.

  The sounds of conflict grew louder. There was a blast of gunfire from his left and, unexpectedly, Jordan came into view, blazing away. He was taking a big risk and Tulane signalled for him to get back. The ostler was whooping and Tulane could only suppose that he had been caught up in the welter of battle. He signalled again and Jordan seemed to come to his senses, because he ducked down and disappeared behind the ridge.

  As if in response, some of Rockwell’s gunmen suddenly burst from cover; a couple of them hadn’t got far before they went reeling to the ground. The gunfire coming from the ranch house was beginning to prove effective and as a further fusillade split the air Tulane took heart from the fact that Loman and his men were giving at least as good as they were receiving. A shot winged dangerously close to where he was half-sitting, half-lying, and he looked about again for a better position. As he did so he became aware of movement behind him. A figure suddenly materialized and Tulane had already swung his rifle in the man’s direction before he realized it was Jordan. Just behind him was another man.

  ‘Hell, you enjoy takin’ a risk!’ Tulane breathed.

  ‘Never mind that,’ Jordan said. ‘We need to get out of here.’

  ‘Why? We’re holdin’ our own.’

  Jordan turned to the other man. Tulane recognized him as the man who had been in the branches of the tree. ‘This is Wyon,’ he said. ‘Go on, Wyon. Tell him what you saw.’

  ‘I got a good view from up there. There are more riders comin’ this way and I figure they’re Rockwell’s. They’ve got a couple of wagons with them. It looks to me like Rockwell’s up to somethin’. A group of his men seem to be clearin’ some space further back.’

  Jordan turned a puzzled face towards Tulane. ‘How do you figure it?’ he added.

  Before Tulane could reply, a fresh burst of gunfire raked the ranch house. When the noise had subsided a little, he turned back to the others.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘Maybe Rockwell is bringin’ up those wagons to burn us out. They’re probably stacked full of hay or somethin’ he aims to set on fire and run into the ranch house.’

  ‘I thought you said he wouldn’t want to destroy the place,’ Jordan reminded him.

  Tulane nodded. ‘Yeah. Let’s just say I changed my opinion.’

  ‘One thing’s for sure,’ Jordan said. ‘We need to get out of here pretty damn quick. The question is, how are we gonna do it?’

  While they had been talking the shooting had dwindled. It seemed to Tulane that Rockwell was perhaps having second thoughts about his abortive offensive. Wyon’s words seemed to confirm this. If he was right, it made sense for Rockwell to await the arrival of the fresh men and wagons.

  ‘Loman and his boys were all ready to hightail it for Sawn-Off Mountain till Rockwell decided to put in an appearance,’ he said. ‘The horses are saddled and ready. Loman’s men are still in command of the stables. We just got to get word to Loman and head for Sawn-Off Mountain.’

  ‘Reachin’ the ranch house could be awkward.’

  ‘It’s a risk we got to take. We should take Rockwell by surprise. He won’t be expectin’ it.’

  ‘I don’t know how many of his gunslicks we’ve put out of action, but there’s probably not too many of ’em near enough to get in a good shot,’ Wyon commented.

  Tulane grinned. ‘Let’s hope you’re right,’ he said. For a few more moments they waited, looking about them, before Tulane gave the word. ‘OK, let’s go!’

  Bent double, they began to run towards the ranch house, darting and swerving as they went. Gun smoke still hung heavy, helping to obscure their movements. All the same, Tulane was expecting lead to be flung at them, but only a few sporadic shots rang out. He guessed that they had either forced the gunslicks further back or they had given up the attack on the ranch until their reinforcements came up. The danger now was that they would be met by gunfire from the ranch house if Loman’s men mistook them for some of Rockwell’s gunslingers.

  They quickly made it to the front yard. A gun boomed twice and bullets threw up dirt but they had reached the veranda without mishap when Wyon staggered and almost fell. A red patch appeared just below his shoulder. Tulane and Jordan grabbed him and as they lifted him up the porch steps the ranch house door opened and Loman appeared, rapidly followed by his foreman. Hellawell was carrying a rifle and as the others helped the stricken man indoors, he opened fire, raking the area in front of the ranch house. When the others were inside he turned and followed them, slamming the door behind him.

  ‘Wyon’s been hit,’ Tulane gasped. ‘Help me get him on the couch.’

  While they laid him flat, another man appeared with a medicine chest. Wyon was waving them away, insisting that he wasn’t badly hurt. It seemed to Tulane that he was probably right, but they needed to do something to stem the flow of blood.

  ‘What were you doin’ anyway?’
Loman asked.

  Quickly, Tulane and Jordan explained the new situation. ‘We need to get out of here,’ Tulane concluded, ‘and I suggest we light a shuck for Sawn-Off Mountain.’

  ‘We got a couple of wounded men,’ Loman replied, ‘apart from Wyon.’

  ‘Are they hit bad?’

  The rancher shook his head. ‘Nope, just minor wounds.’

  Tulane turned back to Wyon, whose shoulder was now bandaged. ‘Do you figure you can ride?’ he asked.

  Wyon’s features were drawn but he managed a thin smile. ‘Sure. I’ll be fine.’

  Tulane looked at Loman. ‘What do you say? It’s up to you.’

  Loman was no fool. He could see the sense of what Tulane was suggesting.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ he said, ‘but what about Rockwell? He has the place covered.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ Tulane replied. ‘A few of his men might have worked their way around, but I don’t figure there’ll be much opposition if we head out the back way.’

  Loman nodded. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Hellawell and I will tell the boys what’s happenin’. See you over at the stables. We’ll be ready to ride directly.’

  Without further ado he made his way out. Most of the men who had been stationed inside the ranch house had already left and they had heard no sound of shooting.

  ‘Seems like the coast is clear,’ Jordan said.

  ‘It ain’t far to the stables,’ Tulane replied. ‘But we’d better not take any chances.’

  Tulane and Jordan went to assist Wyon but he waved them aside. They made their way to the back door and peered out. A couple of Loman’s ranch hands were just entering the stables but there was no evidence of any of Rockwell’s men.

  ‘OK,’ Tulane said, ‘here we go.’

  Drawing his six-gun, he stepped into the open and ushered his two companions past. They quickly made their way across the yard while Tulane kept them covered. When they had reached the entrance to the stables he sprinted across to join them.

 

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