“You’re a stubborn fucking tick!” Jesse snarled as he drove a meaty fist into Clint’s face.
Clint turned away from the punch to keep his nose from getting busted, but he still caught a good portion of the fat man’s knuckles. The moment he felt Jesse try to reclaim his shotgun, Clint rolled onto his side so he could grip the weapon in both hands. He might not have been able to aim it properly, but Clint got one finger on the trigger and pulled it.
The shotgun let out a deafening roar that washed away the sound of the stage’s wheels, along with everything else. Neither man was hit by any buckshot, but Jesse’s hand had been on the barrel when the gun went off. The scents of singed flesh and burnt powder drifted through the air. As the ringing in Clint’s ears eased up, he could hear the fat man screaming in pain.
Rather than waste time trying to fool with the shotgun, Clint threw it away and clambered into the driver’s seat. Along the way, he shoved Jesse to one side and gave him a right cross to the chin for good measure.
“If I can’t burn a tick out, I can cut him out,” Jesse said through a newly bloodied mouth.
Clint collected the reins in one hand and drew his Colt with the other. “Maybe you should sit still before this tick burns a hole through your skull.”
Jesse froze with one hand loosely wrapped around the handle of the knife kept in a scabbard at his belt. He glared at Clint with murderous rage, but had enough sense not to act on it. Grudgingly, the fat man lifted his hand away from his knife and slumped into his seat.
“Your men aren’t going to help you,” Clint said as he wrestled to bring the team under control. “It’d be best if you tell me where you intended on bringing these folks.”
“We were just after money and valuables.”
The horses were agitated, but Clint was able to convince them to slow down. “That’s not what Lester said.”
“Who?”
“You know Lester.” Clint grunted as he gave the reins another couple of tugs. “Squirrelly guy who tells you which stages have valuables and which have pretty ladies. Seems like you’re not the only ones he likes to talk to. And this isn’t a stage carrying much in the way of valuables.”
Now that the horses had calmed down, they lost even more of their steam. The entire stage rattled to a stop as Jesse let out a tired curse. “Little prick,” he said. “I knew we should’a killed him rather than pay his fee.”
Clint set the brake and took Jesse’s knife away from him. It was a fine blade with an intricately carved handle, so he kept it rather than toss it to join the shotgun in the dirt. “Where were you going to take these people?” he asked.
Jesse chuckled under his breath and shook his head just enough for his extra chins to waggle.
“I already know about the camp that’s a few days’ ride from here,” Clint said. “If you tell me all about that place, I may just let you ride in the wagon when I take you to the law instead of dragging you behind it.”
The fat man flinched when he heard that, but didn’t say a word.
Clint shrugged. “All right, then. Suit yourself.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
It wasn’t long before Eddie and Tumen rode up to the parked stagecoach. Several people were gathered around it, talking among themselves to create an excited commotion. When they saw the two new arrivals, they stopped talking and backed away.
“Mister Adams!” a well-dressed man shouted.
Clint poked his head from around the stagecoach and waved at the newly arrived riders. “You’re just in time! Our friend here has been very helpful.”
Eddie and Tumen dismounted and walked around the stage. They were then treated to the sight of Jesse tied to the spokes of one of the rear wheels by both wrists. He kicked at the ground with both feet and struggled frantically without making an inch of progress. Judging by the thick layer of sweat upon his red face, he’d been doing so for a while.
“What in the hell?” Eddie mused. “We sure missed a lot while dealing with them others.”
“Not really,” Clint said as he dusted himself off and walked toward the bounty hunter. “Our friend here is full of piss and vinegar, but not much else.” Once he got a bit closer, Clint draped an arm around Eddie’s shoulders as if conversing with an old friend. “He won’t part with any more details of where to find Morrow’s camp, but he’s let plenty slip.”
Eddie looked at the fiercely defiant fat man and asked, “Like what?”
“Like the fact that Morrow and plenty of others will be there. It seems this isn’t the first stage the gang has picked off recently, but it was convenient, since they were already there to hunt down Lylah.”
“He told you all of that?”
Clint had cobbled those things together once he had figured out which of Jesse’s threats had some fact behind them and which were bluffs. Once the fat man became convinced that Clint truly meant to get the stagecoach moving with him attached to it, Jesse’s lies became flimsier than wet newspaper. Rather than reveal his tricks to Eddie, Clint nodded and said, “More or less. He seemed pretty confident that we’d run into plenty of gunhands once we got there, so we know a bit of what to expect.”
“And what about the rest? You found out there were more prisoners?”
“He sure didn’t seem surprised when I told him I already knew about them,” Clint explained. “The main thing to keep in mind is that this camp is heavily fortified. We’ll either have to sneak in or hire ourselves an army.”
“I suppose that’s good to know before we get too close to the place.” Looking over to the fat man, Eddie asked, “What should we do with him?”
“We can’t just leave him here,” Clint pointed out.
“Why?” Tumen asked.
Since the big man hardly ever spoke, Clint was a little surprised to hear that single, rumbling syllable. “Because he’s a killer and a kidnapper,” Clint replied. “He’ll probably steal the first horse he can and put down whoever tries to stop him.”
“Not if I break his neck.”
Eddie chuckled. “He’s got a point there.”
“No,” Clint said. “They’re the killers. Not us.”
“His legs, then,” Tumen said, as if the matter had been decided. “I’ll just break his legs. Then he won’t go anywhere.”
“Wait a second. You’re the bounty hunter, Eddie. You must know where to drop him off. Hell, you can even keep the bounty.”
Clint wasn’t exactly being generous with that offer. He simply didn’t want to take the time to do the job himself, and didn’t expect Eddie to split the money anyway. To his surprise, the bounty hunter recoiled and seemed to be genuinely offended.
“Why would I keep the bounty?” Eddie asked. “You’re the one that brought him down. If there’s a price on his head, I know a place where I can collect it, but I’ll cut you two in on it. After all, it’s only fair.”
“Can you do it on your own?” Clint asked.
“He might be a big sack of lard, but he’s only one man,” Eddie said as he turned to face Jesse. “I can bring him in and meet up with you before you charge into hell, guns blazing.”
“Maybe Tumen could go with you.”
“No ‘maybe,’ ” Tumen said. “I came to watch him. I won’t let him ride anywhere unless I’m watching him.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groaned.
Clint patted Eddie on the shoulder. “With him riding along, maybe he could carry one of those dead men with him. You think they’re worth something?”
“Not unless they’re famous,” Eddie replied. “Corpses aren’t too valuable, Adams.”
“Well, I’m not about to talk the big fellow out of anything, so it looks like you’re stuck with him. I don’t know how long it will be before anyone will miss these men, so I don’t want to wait around before hitting Morrow’s camp.”
“I said I’d catch up to you, and I will,” Eddie assured him.
Tumen’s hand landed with a heavy thump as it dropped onto Eddie’s shoulder. “You
mean we will.”
“We sure will,” Eddie said with a grin. “Why would we ever want to miss a foolhardy charge like that?”
“I heard what you assholes are sayin’,” Jesse shouted. “Ain’t nobody that’s been to Kyle’s camp is gonna help you. I already told you to shove it up yer ass, and anyone else is too dead to say a damn word.” The fat man amused himself with that enough to let out a guffaw that shook his rounded gut. He not only laughed harder when Eddie approached him, but also spat upon the bounty hunter’s shirt.
Eddie squatted down to pull the bandanna from around Jesse’s neck to wipe off his shirt. He then shoved the slimy cloth down the front of Jesse’s shirt as he said, “Hey, Tumen. You want to give me a hand with this greasy bastard?”
The towering Mongolian stomped over to Jesse, grabbed one of his arms, and started pulling as if he wanted to see if it or the wheel would snap first.
“Better let me cut those ropes,” Eddie said.
Jesse wasn’t laughing anymore as he was loaded onto Eddie’s horse. While that was happening, Clint approached the group of passengers who’d gathered a little ways from the stagecoach.
“Is anyone hurt?” Clint asked.
There were five passengers, three of whom were young women who were all beautiful in a similar way. One of the two men was dressed in a black suit and looked to be somewhere in his fifties. The other was the fellow who’d helped Clint hang on to the stage when it had been moving.
The eldest of the women appeared to be in her late twenties and had long, chestnut colored hair. She ran over to Clint and immediately wrapped her arms around him. He was taken by surprise by the embrace, but couldn’t help noticing the sweet smell of her as she held on to him. “They were going to take us,” she sobbed. “Me, my sisters, all of us. They meant to kill anyone who they couldn’t sell. They told us so. I don’t know who you are, but thank you. Thank you for coming after us.”
Clint could feel the woman trembling against him. When he tried to calm her down, he only felt her grip on him tighten. Both of the woman’s sisters wrapped their arms around him as well while the two men helped Eddie and Tumen deal with Jesse. Clint didn’t want to waste any time before getting the stagecoach ready to roll, but he let the women gather their strength before parting ways. If they needed to take some of Clint’s strength to get them through, then so be it.
THIRTY-NINE
Lylah was waiting right where Clint had left her. In fact, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d stayed in the same exact spot after he’d dropped her off. She kept her head down until he was close enough for her to be certain it was him. As Eclipse drew up next to her, she stood and patiently waited for Clint to reach down and help her up behind him.
“Tumen and Eddie?” she asked. “They go?”
“They went, but they’ll be back.” Clint went through a series of hand motions that he hoped would convey that same idea and, thanks to all of his recent practice in that regard, did a decent enough job. “They’ll meet us at Tucari.”
She seemed perplexed by that last part, so Clint took out Chuluun’s map and pointed to the small town marked as the only one close to Morrow’s camp. “Here,” Clint said. “They’ll meet us here.”
“Now, we will go?”
Clint turned back around to get a good look at her. “Have you been practicing your English?”
Her face showed some of the confusion she felt when he spoke too quickly, but not as much as usual.
“I know . . . some.”
“So you’ve been holding out on me, huh?”
The confusion returned to her face, answering Clint’s question well enough.
“We’ll go,” he told her. “Then, they’ll come to us.”
She nodded slowly, but scowled as if she was still sifting through the words in her head to make sense of them. Whether she completely understood or not, she was comfortable enough to settle into her normal spot upon Eclipse’s back, wrap her arms around Clint’s midsection, and rest her head upon his shoulder.
It would take some hard riding to make up for the time they’d lost in their sidetracking, but Eclipse was always up for a challenge like that. The addition of Lylah might have been a little more weight than the stallion was used to, but she wasn’t nearly enough to slow him down much. Clint pressed his hand upon hers until he felt her tighten her grip a little more. Once she was braced, they were off and running.
The stagecoach might have been shot up a little, but it wasn’t damaged enough to keep it from getting to its next stop. The drivers were dead, but a few of the passengers were able to take their place. Clint didn’t need to worry about them, and he sure didn’t need to worry about Eddie. The bounty hunter was just as anxious to get rid of Jesse as he was to take part in the attack on Morrow’s camp. Any trouble that Jesse might cause wouldn’t slow Eddie down, and it sure wouldn’t ruffle Tumen’s feathers.
There was always the possibility that Jesse wouldn’t make it to a lawman’s office, but Clint wasn’t about to lose much sleep over that. He had enough faith in Eddie’s regard for money to be fairly certain the bounty hunter would get his prisoner where he needed to go. After what he’d seen and heard about the Morrow gang, all of their members had done more than enough to earn their spot in hell, if that’s what it came down to.
The rest of the day was spent with nothing but the sound of hooves pounding against the rocky ground filling Clint’s ears. A hot Arizona sun looked down upon him and Lylah as they covered one mile after another to get back on their intended course. After making up for the ground they’d lost by pursuing the stagecoach, Clint forged ahead to get even closer to Morrow’s camp.
When he stopped to give Eclipse some rest, Clint filled his canteen at a river and looked over the notes Chuluun had taken while talking with Lylah. The old man was nothing if not thorough, and there was plenty to read upon those pages. Most of what pertained to the location of the camp had already been transferred to the map, but Clint went over it all again just to be sure. He even spoke to Lylah to make sure everything was as complete as possible.
Throughout their time together, he and Lylah had put together a kind of language of their own. Most of it consisted of gestures combined with simple phrases they’d used enough to know front and back. Clint still tried speaking to her normally and, every so often, stumbled upon a word or two that he hadn’t realized she knew. There wasn’t much for her to add except for a few details about the terrain surrounding Morrow’s camp. Just as he was about to give up, she revealed another word she’d learned.
“Man. Here,” she said, while pointing at the map to a spot off the trail leading to the camp.
Clint examined the part of the map she was pointing to and asked, “Man?”
She nodded and then pointed to three spaces, one after the other. “Here. Here. Here.”
“Oh, you mean lookouts?”
That went a bit further than Lylah’s speech could go.
“Men,” Clint said as he patted the modified Colt hanging at his side. Furrowing his brow while taking hold of the gun, he asked, “Men with guns?”
Lylah shook her head and walked over to Eclipse. The Darley Arabian was plenty familiar with her and barely stirred from his drinking when she patted the boot hanging from his saddle. “Men with . . .”
“Rifles,” Clint told her as he stood beside her and touched the rifle in the saddle’s boot.
She nodded and smiled.
“Now that is helpful. You really kept your eyes open while you were there. Then again, I suppose you would have. It must have been frightening to . . . Aw, never mind. Thanks.”
He was certain she knew that last word, but she still didn’t seem to respond to it. Instead, her smile had taken on a more wistful quality as she moved her hand gently beneath the spot where Clint had laid his own upon the rifle’s stock. When Clint turned that hand around so he could brush his fingertips against her wrist, she averted her eyes and moved her hand away.
There
wasn’t a lot of sunlight left, so Clint coaxed Eclipse from the river, climbed onto his back, and helped Lylah up behind him. She kept a tight grip upon him, but wasn’t as relaxed during the rest of the day’s ride. Whenever she did lean against his back, she felt as taut as a bowstring.
Since they still had a ways to go, Clint let the matter be.
FORTY
Clint wanted to keep riding even though he knew it would still be another day or two before they arrived at the camp. On top of that, no matter how much Lylah added to the map, they would still undoubtedly have to search around a bit before they actually found the place. The map was a help, but it only put them in the vicinity. After that, Clint would need to rely on everything from tracking skills to pure gut instinct. Somehow he knew he’d be able to smell all those murdering bastards when he got close enough.
He thought about that as he prodded the fire that he had built beside a small cluster of rocks that he’d chosen as the spot to make their camp for the night. Before he was distracted for much longer, he threw the twig he’d been holding into the crackling flames and stood up. “You hungry?” he asked.
Lylah was nearby, dipping her feet into a little watering hole a few yards from the fire. While the Arizona Territories might feel like rocky desert in places, Clint had spent enough time there to know where to look for the essentials. This spot was so nice that he decided he ought to remember where it was for the next time he passed through. Then again, it wasn’t exactly the terrain that made the spot easy on the eyes.
Lylah had progressed from dipping her feet to stripping down and submerging herself in the water. Her clothes lay in a dirty heap beside the water near where Eclipse was tethered. She was a few paces in with the water lapping at the upper curve of her breasts while she splashed more of it upon her face and into her hair.
After standing there watching her for a few moments, Clint cleared his throat. “Are you hungry, Lylah?”
She was facing away from him, but quickly turned to look toward the sound of Clint’s voice. When she saw him standing there, she gazed up from the water and slowly let her hands drift down along the front of her body. Although she was mostly submerged, the shape of her naked figure and the dark color of her nipples could be seen through the water.
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