Little Sam's Angel

by Wills, Larion

  She smiled bitterly at him. "I'll fight you for it. It's mine, and you know it."

  "You won't win, and maybe you'll lose a lot more."

  She looked at him, moved a few paces, looking at the ground and then leaned against the building with her hands behind her back to look at him again. "There's a lot of gun hands showing up in Tree Town. Do you know anything about them? Or the attack on Gabe Taylor?"

  He ignored the last part of the question, answering only the first. "I need a crew. I'm gonna get married. I need a place, a good place, 'cause she deserves the best, and I ain't gonna let you and any week-kneed hands you got working for you take it away from me."

  "How much does she need? And just who is she anyway?"

  "You don't know her, and I'm going to see to it that she gets everything you've got," he said bluntly. "You can pack your personal things. The rest stays."

  The shock of what he was saying caught up with her. She stared at him, wondering if she was dreaming it all. She had never cared for Pierce's ways, but she had never distrusted him, nor had her father before her, which was the only reason he'd kept his job or been her trial boss. He had always been a steady hand, sometimes too violent, but always loyal, fiercely loyal at times.

  "Where were you?" he asked suddenly.

  "It ain't any of your business," she said, her voice coming from far away and lacking any fire.

  "Over at Taylor's?" he asked hatefully. "You've been throwing yourself at that scum ever since—"

  He'd hurt Gabe. She was sure of it, and Sammy exploded, swinging at him with all her might, mad enough to hope she hit him on his already sore nose.

  He caught her arm, twisting it back viciously. "If you think you can get him to fight for you, you're wrong. He's nothing but a coward—woman-raping coward."

  "That's a lie!"

  "You ask him. Ask him about Brenda. Ask him if he didn't force her to submit to him."

  "I don't have to," she said, jerking her arm free and backing away from him.

  "He must have told you a real sweet story about how that kid came to be his."

  "Danny isn't his, and he didn't tell me that—she did."

  Pierce wanted to hit her. She could see it in his face, and he raised his hand to do it.

  "Pierce, I wouldn't do that iffen I was you," a sharp, flat voice said from the side.

  Both turned to find four of her men standing there, every one of them with a rifle or shotgun in their hands. Pierce backed off with a sneer on his face.

  "Okay, but it don't make no difference. You boys that hold claims for the Rocking M, I advise you to sign them over to me, soon as they prove up."

  "If we don't?" one asked.

  "You'll wish you had." Then he turned back to face Sammy. "In one week, this land will legally be mine. Make it easy on yourself and get out now."

  Sammy watched him walk away, torn so many ways she couldn't think. She heard her hands talking until one sentence caught her ears.

  "Should have killed him," Bob, the one that had faced him, said.

  "Why didn't you think of that before he got away?" the one next to him asked.

  He shrugged. "Figured I couldn't believe my own ears."

  "Well, he damned sure meant it," another snapped. "Better go oil my guns."

  "No," Sammy shouted. "Get everything that passes for a wagon. Load everything that's usable. If it's busted, smash it so it cain't be fixed."

  "Little Sam, you ain't just gonna let him take it?" one asked.

  "I cain't fight him," she said, her face and voice hardening, "but I damn sure won't let him win."

  * * *

  "He just cut the last string he could have held on to," Hedges said in sorrow, dropping heavily into the chair at the table Sally and Morey occupied. He laid a piece of paper down, sighing like his heart was breaking as he did it.

  "What is it?" Sally asked, afraid to look too closely at the paper.

  "The deed, signed over proper to Sammy." Hedges' voice cracked, and he brushed impatiently at his eyes, sniffing loudly. "He's done give up on everything."

  "Ain't there nothing we can do?" Sally wailed.

  "Don't reckon. I done tried everything I could think of. He won't listen. Just lays there, staring at the wall."

  "Ain't right, just ain't right. Ought to be something we can do," Sally sobbed, dabbing at her face with her apron.

  "Just been walked on too many times," Hedges said, his voice still making funny sounds.

  “If you ain't gonna tell us what it is, don't talk about it," Morey snapped gruffly.

  "Don't see why not now. Ain't no reason you don't know." So he told them, all of it that he knew. Sally was crying uncontrollably by the time he'd finished.

  "I heard some of that talk, Hedges. Some said a woman was to blame," Morey said quietly.

  "Danny's ma," Hedges said with a nod. "Don't know much 'bout that part of it. Gossip was he was chasing her, making up to the boy, and putting himself in front to stand by her. When he up and left, they figured she'd turned him away. It was her caused most the trouble, prodding the ranchers to use violence against the nesters, no matter what. Ollie figured them stories come from her, a way for her to get back at Gabe 'cause he refused to go after them sodbusters for her."

  "He couldn't'a loved a woman like her," Sally said, her tears subsiding somewhat.

  "Having the store in Crystal Creek, Ollie heard nearly every bit of gossip, and he never did think so. He never could figure why Gabe left a good job and went to work for her when her husband died though, until there was whispers that the babe was his."

  "We're gossiping. Ain't right," Morey said quickly, remembering all too well what Gabe has said when they first found him, out of his head and nailed to the floor. Sammy had heard words that the babe being his was a lie, too. If Sammy could forgive him for being close enough to a married woman that folks believed the baby was his, then it was no one else's business. He amended that thought. It was no one's business anyhow.

  Sally raised her head, cocked towards Gabe's bedroom door. "Thought I heard him moving around," she murmured when the two men looked at her. She turned back to them with a slight shrug. "Guess not."

  Hedges drew back her attention back to him. "That Brenda woman told the story that something happened between them when he found her in the mountains that time she got herself lost. But the babe came too early for that to be true."

  "Hedges, don't—" Morey started.

  "Wasn't nothing but a lie, Morey. Ollie knew like most everyone else. It couldn't'a been Gabe's baby, not from that time. 'Sides the babe coming too early, when she went missing that day her husband got a bunch together to go out searching. They followed her tracks to where Gabe found her and then to as far as he got before that blood poisoning in his arm got so bad he couldn't go no further. Unconscious, out of his head with fever, when they found them, and he sure weren't in any shape for—"

  "Hedges, that's enough," Sally said sharply. "Morey's right, we ain't doing nothing but gossiping."

  Morey agreed, but for his own peace of mind and for Sammy's sake, he was glad Hedges had told them.

  "I hear something," Hedges said, walking to the window.

  "I thought I did a while ago," Sally said, joining him.

  Morey went to the door, stepping out for a better look. "What in tarnation?"

  Wagons were coming, four or five of them. As they drew near, a rider spotted Morey and spurred ahead.

  "Brander, what the…" Morey started.

  "You better get over there, Morey. I think Little Sam has gone loco," the man called out excitedly.

  "Get down," he ordered, grabbing the horse by the head stall. "What happened?"

  "Well," he said, leaping of the horse, "Little Sam ordered us ta take everything that was of use. Said to give it ta Mr. Taylor. Said to tell him it was for the boy, not him, and for you ta go after Danny, 'cause there wasn't any reason…" He gulped in deep breath, "…ta leave now 'cause the place was his."


  "Fool girl," he exclaimed, jumping to the saddle.

  "Morey, you better know, she's madder than a hornet. She came back out wearing britches and Big Sam's gun strapped on. She said she couldn't fight him, but she wouldn't let him win, and she wouldn't let us stay. I'm a'feared, Morey. She might go after him by her ownself."

  "After who?" he asked, totally confused now in a situation he had at first thought he understood.

  "Pierce."

  "Pierce? Why for God's sake?"

  "He ain't gonna give her the deed. He threatened to take the others from us, and he's been bringing in hard-cases ta back him up."

  "Judas Priest," he said, sinking his heels deep. The horse jumped at a low rumbling coming from the direction of the Rocking M. It sounded like thunder, but there were no storm clouds to go with it. He sank his heels again.

  * * *

  When Sammy did a job, she did it well. She put a stick of dynamite under each of the peeled logs holding up the porch, ran the fuses out and tied them together for lighting. She fired the inside of the house before she lit that fuse and already had the barn burning when the house went up in a cloud of dust, smoke, and fire.

  Every building on the place was burning when she mounted her frantic horse and started on the fences with a rope. Little Sam had learned how to throw a rope well. As soon as one section went down, she shook the rope loose and threw it over the next standing pole.

  Fighting the frightened horse constantly didn't stop her, nor did the rider coming in. If it was Pierce, she'd kill him before she'd let him stop her.

  It wasn't Pierce. It was Gabe.

  Stopping his horse ten feet from her, Gabe asked quietly, "What are you doing?"

  "You get out of here. I don't want you around," she shouted at him.

  "I guess I can understand that," he said, kneeing his horse closer.

  "Stay away from me!" she screamed, backing her horse away from him.

  "I want to know why you're doing this," he said calmly, still moving steadily toward her.

  "It isn't any of your concern. It's mine, and I'll deal with it in my own way. I'm Little Sam, as good as any man. Doesn't it rhyme nice, just perfect to chant? Stay away."

  She dug into her horse’s side with her heels. The startled animal jumped forward, snapping the rope taunt, signaling the horse to back and pull as if it were a fighting steer on the other end.

  Gabe lunged his own horse to in front of hers.

  Sammy's horse went crazy. The fire, the smell of smoke, his irate rider, all combined to make him explode in a frenzy of bucking. By the time she got him back under control, Gabe was beside her, holding tight to the horse's headstall, and they were a safe distance away from the burning buildings.

  "Get down," he ordered.

  She was going to fight him, heel her horse again, until she saw the hand that held the headstall. Bandages covered it, soaked through with blood from the unhealed wound.

  "Gabe, let go," she cried in anguish.

  "Get down," he repeated coldly.

  "You shouldn't even be out of bed." She jumped off the horse. From the ground, she pleaded, "Go home, Gabe. Please go home."

  "Stay put while I get down."

  She shook her head violently, backing away from him. "Go home. I don't want you here. There's nothing you can do."

  He settled back in the saddle, ready to herd her with the horse like an ornery steer if she bolted. "Answer my question," he said. "Why are you doing this?"

  "There isn't anything you can do. Please go home," she cried.

  "Not likely. If you got any ideas on stopping me, you better use that gun. Where is he?"

  Sammy shook her head in confusion. Why would she use a gun on Gabe? Who did he want?

  "It won't do you any good to protect him," Gabe went on. "There ain't anything I can do to you, but he's going to die for what he did."

  Sammy stared at him. Gabe wasn't hiding his hatred of her anymore, only now there was more than there had been before. This was a Gabe she'd never seen. There was no gentleness in him, and no rage. He was calm, self-possessed, and deadly.

  "Gabe, I don't—"

  "No more lies," he told her sharply. "You got part of what you wanted. I signed the deed over. I cleared your house, and I won't be taking any money for it, but I'm going to kill Pierce."

  He backed his horse, and she screamed, lunging at him to hold him, finding only his leg and the saddle horn to hold on to. Gabe shoved her loose. She hit the ground on her backside with a resounding thump.

  "Looks like you honestly feel something for him, anyway," he told her hatefully, backing the horse away again.

  "He'll kill you," she cried, scrambling back to her feet.

  "Likely," he said, pausing, "but I'll kill him, too. You want to stop it, use that gun. Do some of your own dirty work."

  "You think I sent him," she sobbed, taking the gun from her hip. "I ought to kill you for that. You think I'm the same as her." A look of doubt crossed Gabe's face as the gun, held steady in both of her hands, raised slowly. "I'm going to use it, Gabe. I'm going to stop you. You aren't going to get killed fighting because of me."

  "Sammy, don't!" he yelled, kicking his feet free of the stirrups.

  The gun bellowed, and the horse, not Gabe, jerked from the impact. Its knees folded, and it went down, slowly at first then gaining momentum. Gabe barely jumped free to keep himself from being pinned as the horse rolled to its side.

  He tried to protect his ribs, but the combination of falling and the sudden movement made his chest muscles contract, pushing all the air out of his lungs. He slid to the ground, gasping for breath, but forced himself up on one elbow so he could see her.

  She backed away slowly, going to her own horse, the gun hanging limply at her side and twin furrows of clean paths through the soot on her cheeks from the tears falling from her eyes. She couldn't stand seeing him look at her, not with what he thought she'd done. She spun around, running to get away from him. Jerking like she'd been knifed when he called out to her, she didn't stop.

  "Sammy, I need some help," he yelled.

  "I'll send someone," she called back. She reached for the trailing reins on her horse then jerked back when the roar of a pistol sounded and a spot of dust exploded in front of her. The horse reared and backed off. The boom of a second shot rang in her ears, but Gabe's voice came through it.

  "I'm not killing another good horse, but I'm not letting you ride out of here," Gabe told her, back on his feet and slipping closer.

  She reached for the reins again, only to have another shot roar out, this time passing close to her leg.

  "Kinda…" Morey said, standing off to the side with a gun in his hand. Both of them spun around, aiming their guns at him. "…chancy shooting with your hand like it is." He finished without blinking an eye, seemingly unaware of the twin bores pointed at him or the high strung state of the people holding them.

  "Damned bad on a man's nerves, Morey." Gabe gasped out, then sucked in a painful chest full of air and blew it out, saying, "Keep her here."

  "No, Morey, stop him," she screamed, running past Gabe on the way to her horse, waving her arms to spook it away from Gabe's reach.

  "Neither of you is going anywhere till you tell me what's going on."

  "He's going after Pierce," Sammy cried.

  Still fighting to breath normally Gabe said, "She's gonna get hurt."

  Morey chose to listen to him. "He the one that jumped you?" he asked Gabe. Gabe stared back, refusing to answer. "You tried telling us when we first found you. Why'd you change your mind?"

  "He thought I sent him," she snapped and then pleading, "Stop him, Morey."

  "You stay there till I get the straight of this," he told her curtly, staring hard Gabe. "Why would you think that?"

  "Because that's what Brenda would do," she retorted, stinging from the insult now that the shock of it was over.

  "Let him answer for himself," Morey shouted at her. "Well?"

  "He want
ed the deed," Gabe answered stiffly.

  "For himself. He's getting married," Sammy shouted.

  "Pierce?" Morey asked in surprise.

  Gabe asked at the same time, "To who?"

  "I didn't ask, but he did mention Brenda's name, and he told me some very interesting things about how Danny came to be yours," Sammy said spitefully.

  Gabe turned beet red and muttered, "She left."

  "She's back, in Tree Town," Morey said.

  "Tree Town?" As bad as he already looked, Gabe looked like someone had just punched him in the gut. "Danny," he exclaimed, running for the horse. Sammy ran after him, and so did Morey.

  "Gabe, what is it?" she cried, grabbing him by the arm as he tried to mount the dancing horse.

  "Sammy, I'm sorry." He held onto the reins, one arm pressed to his side. "I shouldn't'a thought what I did, and there's things I want to tell you, but not now. Them folks that took Danny came from Tree Town. Brenda will take him back."

  "But…but…she didn't want him."

  "Not unless she could hurt someone by taking him," he said bitterly. He started to mount again.

  This time Morey stopped him. "I'll go after the boy. You take Sammy back to the house."

  "They won't let you have him," Gabe argued.

  "No more than they would you, only I don't plan on asking any more than you. I'll bring him back, Gabe. You take care of Sammy and take care of yourself."

  "It ain't my place to care for her," Gabe said solemnly.

  "Damn you and your places, man. Be reasonable," Morey shouted. "You ain't up to a ride like that. I am, and I cain't be in two places at once."

  Since Gabe could barely stand up straight, he knew he had to give in. "All right, Morey. I'll take her back to the house."

  "And stay there."

  "I got something to do."

  "And you ain't in shape for that, either. You cain't face him, yet. Look at your hands."

  "Didn't figure to fist fight him."

  "You cain't get a gun out with any speed."

  "I ain't some dumb kid trying for a name. When I go after a man with a gun, I have it in my hand," Gabe snapped.

  "Even then, you couldn't work fast enough to keep him from killing you, and he won't be alone, neither."