I saw a group of people gathered in front of the hotel, and as I walked toward them, they stepped away from the street and up to the boardwalk in front of the stores. Then I saw Yates, wearing a tied down gun holster and standing in the center of the street. I glanced left and right to make sure the sun wasn’t in my eyes, then slowed down and stopped about 25 feet away from him. The silence was almost complete. I could hear a door quietly opening and closing behind me. No one was talking. I couldn’t tell if he was entirely sober or not. He seemed pretty steady on his feet, but was staring at me with a bit of a crazed expression. Small things etched themselves on my mind as we stood there. He was wearing a straw hat that sat a little off center on his head. His shirt had double flaps over the pockets with oversized copper snaps. He seemed a little disheveled, like maybe he’d fallen from his horse on the way into town. His eyes burned into me. I waited, and finally he spoke.
“You called me a cattle thief.” It was a statement, not a question. “I raised the issue” I agreed. “You didn’t do anything to improve your image yesterday. What were you doing at the fence line with Red yesterday morning?” He hadn’t expected me to go on the offensive, and it set him back a little. He looked a bit uncertain for the first time, and he shifted his feet and paused. He glanced briefly around him, seeming to realize for the first time that he had an audience. “You can go,” I offered. “You can get on your horse and ride out of town right now. It doesn’t have to come to this.” He wavered for just a moment, and then swung his eyes back in my direction and I knew he was too far in to back down. “You’re a dead man.” His hand hovered near his gun, but his eyes weren’t focused on me just yet. I shrugged. “Maybe I am and maybe I’m not. Is it worth it?” His eyes snapped up and locked in on my chest, and then his gun hand moved. His gun came out and began to level, but mine was already clear. I felt it jump in my hand, and the snap over his left front shirt pocket disappeared when the bullet drove into him. His body twisted and his feet seemed to fly out from under him. I stepped forward and to my left as I readied the next shot, but I could see there wasn’t any point. He lay still in the dust of the street, the gun on the ground beside him. His knees were buckled and he seemed to be in an oddly twisted position. I walked up to him slowly, gun still ready, but then Doc Chapman pushed in front of me and knelt over him. After a moment he glanced up at me. “He’s dead.”
I stopped and pushed my gun back into the holster, trying to absorb the enormity of what had just happened. Nobody was coming near me, and I seemed to stand by myself in the center of the street while most stayed on the boardwalk. A few walked and stood over the body briefly. I looked up and saw Kate standing in front of the doctor’s office. Her face was completely white and her eyes looked dark and huge by contrast. After a moment Jim Randolph came through the crowd and began to move toward me. Additional movement on my left caught my eye, and I saw Sam coming from the alley between two stores, carrying his shotgun. I stared at him questioningly. “Bit of a long story” he said briefly. “We need to get you off the street. We don’t need those brothers coming around right now.” Jim joined us and took my arm, steering me off the street. “We’ll wait for the sheriff in his office. I’ll be the first one to tell him you were provoked and tried to end it without gunfire.” He glanced to his side and motioned toward Yates Carson’s gun, still lying in the street. “Sam,” he said. “Can you bring the gun? It will help to have proof he fired it.”
I stared at Jim, but moved along with him toward the sheriff’s office. “Did he fire? I can’t remember it.” Jim nodded. “He got off a shot, but it was too late and too low.” He steered me into the office and sat me down. “You’re shaking a little now” he observed. “It’s an unsettling thing, to draw your gun on a man. Just take your time and breathe deep. I’d get you a little drink to settle you down, but probably better if you haven’t been drinking when the sheriff gets here.”
I stayed in the chair and replayed the whole confusing scene in my head. I didn’t see how it could have come out any differently. Sam came in, laid Carson’s gun on the table and sat down next to me. Nobody said anything for several minutes. Finally I looked over at Jim. “Kate looked… horrified” I said eventually. Jim nodded. “It was an ugly thing to see. Give her some time to come to grips with it. She’ll know you tried to settle it more peacefully. Just give her a little time.” I nodded and stared at the table in front of me.
Finally I heard boots coming toward the office, the door opened, and Sheriff Stanton came in. He walked over to the table and held out his hand. “First, you need to give me your gun” he said, not unkindly. I handed it over without a word; he took it from me and sat down at the table, clearly gathering his thoughts. I wondered what the future held for me now.
Chapter Nine
Morning light filtered slowly through the bars of the Cimarron jail cell. I lay on the bunk and tried to make sense of the last 24 hours. The door to the cell was open. The sheriff had made clear that he didn’t consider me a prisoner. His concern was the other two Carson brothers, and the fight that could erupt in town if they returned and came after me. I could hear him snoring lightly out in the front room of the jail. He had stayed the night to prevent them or anyone else storming the jail to get me. He had wanted me to leave town yesterday in the name of keeping the peace. Jim and Sam had argued in my behalf for a long time, but the sheriff had the final word and he wanted me out of town. He’d told me I could return in a year if the Carsons were no longer around.
I rolled over and faced the wall of the cell and sorted through my options. I didn’t really have a home to return to. I had hoped that my home would be Cimarron and the Randolph ranch. Jim had made it clear that I was welcome to return, but discouraged me on the idea of doing so against the sheriff’s wishes, and I had to agree with him on that one. He had agreed to return with Kate to see me before I left today. I watched a spider weaving his web through the bars of the jail window. My thoughts returned to what I would do now. I had not much of anything to call my own, with only a little in the way of cash. It seemed to me that I needed a stake. I needed something to help me buy my own place and put down some roots. With that, my thoughts returned to my conversation from a couple days ago with Tim in the mining store, and the talk about gold in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Maybe I could do some prospecting in those mountains for a while, find enough to stake me to a start somewhere, and start again. It seemed as good a plan as any. I rolled over and got to my feet.
The sound of the doorknob turning stopped me as I reached the door to the cell, and my hand dropped automatically to my side. The gun wasn’t there, of course. The sheriff had taken that. The door opened and Sheriff Stanton came in, carrying coffee and some breakfast. He set them down on the table and invited me to join him. He gave me a couple minutes to eat a little and have some coffee, and then began to reiterate what he’d told me yesterday. He expected the remaining two Carson brothers to return and he wanted me gone today. I nodded and glanced up at him. “What about the Randolphs? Do you think they are safe from the Carsons?” The sheriff put his coffee down and hesitated. “I’ll help them if they need help,” he said finally. I could see the worry in his eyes, but said nothing. He waited for me to finish eating, and then nodded toward a bowl of water in front of a mirror. “You can clean up for a few minutes over there,” he said. “The Randolphs will be here in a few minutes to talk to you.”
I splashed some water in the bowl and began to go through the motions of washing and shaving, thinking about what I would say to Jim and Kate, and what direction I wanted the conversation to go. I knew that I had to leave. I could only hope to leave the door open for a return, and I hoped Kate would look forward to that possibility. I needed a home and a place to settle, and I desperately hoped this could be it.
When I had finished shaving, I went back to sit down at the table in the front room of the jail. The sheriff, I could see, was sitting outside the jail. It looked like he had a shotgun in his lap. After a
few minutes, I could hear footsteps on the boardwalk outside, then Jim and Kate Randolph came through the door. I looked at Kate, trying to make eye contact, but she only glanced at me as she came over and sat down beside me. Jim took the chair opposite. I glanced around the table and decided that nobody had been able to get much sleep last night. A few long moments passed, and nobody seemed to have much to say. Jim finally cleared his throat and began.
“Chance, we have loved having you with us. I… we… felt like you were almost part of our family, with ties to the past and the future…” his voice trailed off for a moment. “We would love to have you back, as soon as this thing can be cleared up, but…” he searched for words again. “Right now, I think you should go, like the sheriff says.” I nodded and stared at the table, then glanced up at Kate. I saw both tears and confusion in her eyes. I cleared my throat and stared back down at the table. “I know, Jim” I said. I’ll be riding out today.” Jim nodded and the silence settled in again over the table. Finally I glanced back up at him. “Could you give me a few minutes to talk to Kate?” Jim pushed his chair back and stood. “Take as much time as you need.” He glanced at Kate. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”
The sound of the front door shutting filtered back to us at the table. I pulled my chair around to sit next to Kate, put my hand over hers where it lay on the table. “I know that was awfully hard to see yesterday.” She pulled away from me. “I saw the whole thing,” she said. “I saw you both standing there, I saw the guns come up, and I heard the shots.” I looked up and could see the tears coursing down her cheeks. “I saw Yates fall, and I saw you still standing there. I looked back at Yates and I knew he was dead.” She wiped the tears away from her cheeks and her hands settled back in her lap. “Part of me knows that you only defended yourself. The other part of me knows that I saw you kill Yates yesterday. I…” she lapsed into silence.
I sat for a moment, both of us staring at the table. I tried another tack. “You can talk to Sam” I said. “He found Red waiting in ambush for me. He’d have shot me down with his rifle before Yates and I ever had it out.”
She looked me in the eye for the first time that morning. “I talked to Sam, “she said. “He told me what you just said and I believe him. But I don’t believe Yates would have been a part of that. I think Red may have done that without Yates ever knowing.” Her eyes shifted away as she said that, and I knew she was having trouble figuring out just what she believed about the whole incident. “Did you see Yates glancing back over his shoulder when he braced me in the street?” I asked. “What do you think he was waiting for?” Her eyes flared and she shook her head. I knew this conversation was going backwards. “He wouldn’t have done that.” There was finality in her voice this time. I could see she had blocked out the incident from yesterday, when Yates would have let Red kill her at the fence line.
I knew I had to let this one go, so I changed the subject. She would sort this one out in time. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time on my side. “I’ll be leaving today,” I said finally. She looked up and nodded. “I’m truly sorry to see you go,” she said. “I’ll miss you. We’ll both miss you.” Well, I thought, that was something. I stood and walked over to the sheriff’s desk, then came back with a pencil and a piece of paper. I wrote something on the paper, folded it and gave it to her. She took the paper, but looked at me instead of trying to read it. “What is this?”
“It’s an address where you can reach me if you need to. It’s a hotel in Denver. I don’t think I’m headed there directly, but I’ll be there before too much time goes by, and I’ll check for a letter. If you need me, just let me know and I’ll be here just as fast as I can come.” She put the note in the pocket of her skirt, then stood and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. She rested her head on mine for a second, and then brushed my cheek with her lips. “I know you will,” she said. “I’ll be in touch if I need help. Or maybe I’ll just be in touch because the coast is clear and you can come back.” The door closed softly behind her.
The door opened and closed again, and Sheriff Stanton was back in the office. He crossed the room, then opened and closed a drawer. He came over to me and held out my gun. “There are no bullets in it,” he said. “I assume you have more in your pack?” I took the gun, slid it into my holster and nodded. “Just wait till you’re out of town to load it.” He extended his hand and I shook it. “No hard feelings?” he asked. “I’m just trying to keep the peace.” “No hard feelings” I agreed. I crossed to the door. “I’m going to see Tim for a while at the mining store, then I’m leaving” I said. He waved and sat down in his chair. “Just be gone before dark.” I paused at the door. “What if the other two Carson brothers come after Jim and Kate?” There was a long silence while I waited. Finally the answer came back. “I’ll do what I need to do.” It wasn’t much of an answer, but it looked like it was the only one I would get. I opened the door and went on out.
The Cimarron streets seemed pretty empty as I walked away from the jail. One or two people seemed to take an extra look at me as I went by, or maybe I just imagined it. I crossed the street and walked into Tim’s Mining Supply store. The shelves seemed mostly empty now. Tim glanced up as the door swung shut, then nodded and walked over after he recognized me. “I heard you had a bit of trouble yesterday” he said. I grinned ruefully. “A bit” I agreed. Tim pointed at a pile of things on the floor in one corner. “Those are yours” he told me.
I walked over and sorted through the things I saw there. He’d set out a shovel, a pickaxe, a fairly large box covered with mesh webbing, a mortar and pestle, and a bottle of liquid. I held up the bottle and looked at him questioningly. “Mercury” he said. I nodded and set the bottle back down. I looked at the pile on the floor and thought about my bag of clothes and ammunition, bedroll and guns. I’d need to carry some food also. I began to wonder how much I could carry on Archie. Tim read my mind. “I’ve got an extra pack horse down at the corral” he told me. “He’s not much to look at, but he can do what you need and I could let you have him cheap. $75.”
“OK. I’ll take him.” I hesitated, considering whether or not I wanted to ask Tim my next questions. As it was, nobody knew where I was going and I liked it that way. On the other hand, I didn’t know much about the area where I planned to mine for gold. Tim watched me, saying nothing. Finally I asked what he knew about the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, just north of us, where I had passed through on my way to Cimarron and now planned to return.
Tim sat down on a stool in the shop. “I thought you might be headed there.” He fished around in a drawer, pulled out a map, and tossed it to me. “This might help some” he said. I glanced at it. It marked the ranges, a few rivers, and some trails. I put it in my pocket. “I’d try the western slope, if I were you” Tim said. “There’s been some gold found there. Don’t be surprised if you run into a few others in the area. You may want to join up with a few others, or you may want to do it your own way. One way you have more protection from the Jicarilla Apaches, but you have to trust a stranger or two if you find something.” I nodded, filing that away in my mind. “There’s been a rumor of a ledge running through the length of the mountains, but I wouldn’t put too much stock in that. Oh, one other thing. If you have some gold and need to leave some behind while you haul some out, be sure to leave yourself some kind of trail. A couple guys have left part of their stake behind, then never could find it again when they went back.”
I thanked him, gathered up the goods he had on the floor and followed Tim down to the corral. I gave Archie a pat or two as we walked past, and then looked at Tim’s pack horse. He was small, kind of a mouse-colored gray, and I thought he looked at me rather balefully as I walked up to him. I patted him a few times and he ignored me completely. I circled a couple times and looked at him a little doubtfully. “Well, I said,” you were right when you said he isn’t much to look at.” Tim grinned a little, but then gestured toward the horse. “He’ll do everything you need” he said. He�
��ll go all day long. He comes from mustang stock. He doesn’t need a lot of food. You don’t need him to win a beauty contest. He just needs to pack your stuff and he can do that.” Finally I took Tim’s word for it and paid the $75. Tim stuffed the money in his pocket and headed back for his store. “See you in Denver” he called. I waved, and then turned back around. “Hey. What do you call him?” “I call him Fred” Tim called back. “Call him whatever you want. I don’t think he’s too particular.”
“Fred” I muttered under my breath as I loaded the supplies on him. Fred didn’t seem to mind, so I tied a rope on him and led him over to Archie. I loaded my bag and bedroll on Archie, put the Winchester in the scabbard, climbed aboard, turned out of the corral and headed north toward the mountains. For the second time in my life, I was leaving Cimarron against my will. I wondered how many times I would find myself starting life over before I was done.
Chapter Ten
I pushed north into the hills, holding west of Raton and pushing into Colorado before the sun was very high overhead. It was my second day on the trail. Late June wasn’t a bad time to be moving into the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, but I could see the snow still on the peaks above me. I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders and enjoyed the feel of the sun on my shoulders. Archie moved along the trail, probably glad for the chance to get out of the corral. I had a rope tied to Fred, and he carried the mining gear and my bags.
I thought about the situation I had left behind me in Cimarron. I thought the sheriff was being a little optimistic about the idea that the Carson brothers wouldn’t go after Jim and Kate after the death of Yates. True, they hadn’t killed him—I did that, but Kate was very much involved in what happened. If they had been exposed as cattle rustlers, they might do some pretty drastic things to cover their tracks. I could understand the sheriff wanting to keep the peace, but the remaining Carson brothers might not let that happen. And what about Red? Where was he, and how deep was he in this situation? Even if the sheriff was willing to help Jim and Kate, they might find themselves outgunned. I found myself twisting uneasily in the saddle, not happy with my decision to leave Cimarron, but I couldn’t see what other choice I’d had.
Chance Reilly Page 7