‘Looks like they fastened ropes to the frame and then pulled it down using their horses.’
The old woman began searching among the debris but after a few moments stood upright. ‘Why should I bother,’ she said. ‘It didn’t amount to nothin’ anyways.’
‘It was your home,’ Kitchenbrand replied.
‘Maybe while Ty was around, but not now they took him away.’
‘It can be rebuilt,’ Kitchenbrand said.
The old lady’s attention seemed to be fixed on something behind him. She was looking towards the trees and Kitchenbrand turned in their direction. Just at that moment there was a sudden agitation among the branches and a crow came wheeling from the foliage, followed by another group of them, diving and cawing. Instinctively Kitchenbrand reached for his gun as something exploded and a shot came whistling through the air. It went singing by his ear as he squeezed the trigger of his own Colt Frontier revolver. He heard a shout and then a groan and he began to run forward, crouched low, shouting to the old woman as he did so to take cover.
Another shot rang out but it was hopelessly wide. In a further few yards he was among the trees, looking about him for signs of their attacker. He paused to listen and after a minute or two was rewarded by the sound of hoofbeats moving away beyond the trees. He continued running but by the time he emerged again into the open the rapidly fading clatter of galloping hoofs told him the gunman was gone.
He made his way back through the trees, observing as he did so that the ground was spattered at one point with blood. The old woman had not taken his advice but was standing in the open more or less where she had been from the start.
‘You got Reba to thank for saving your skin,’ she said.
Kitchenbrand was about to expostulate and remind her that it was her property they were on when he became aware that a large crow was sitting on her shoulder.
‘Reba?’ he repeated dully. ‘Who’s Reba?’
‘This is Reba,’ she said, stroking the crow’s feathers. ‘Guess I’d better introduce you. I rescued her when she were no more than a fledgling and fell out the nest. She’s been with me ever since.’ She tapped it on the beak. ‘Reckon me and Reba are two of a kind.’
Kitchenbrand continued to look at the bird with incomprehension written across his face.
‘Reba saved us,’ the woman said, including herself this time. ‘She gave the warning just in time.’ The crow opened its mouth and gave a loud, raucous caw. ‘There you go,’ the woman said. ‘I reckon she likes you.’
Kitchenbrand glanced about him. He was pretty sure there had only been one gunman, but he couldn’t see any point in staying to find out. He put the point to Virginy.
‘There won’t be anyone else,’ she said. ‘That ain’t Landon Clovis’s way.’
‘What do you mean,’ Kitchenbrand said. ‘Do you know who that man was?’
‘Nope, but I reckon he’ll be one of Landon Clovis’s boys. Dry-gulchin’ folks is just his style.’
‘We got no idea who it was,’ Kitchenbrand said. ‘Coulda been anybody.’
‘We ain’t likely to be able to prove it, but I know all the same.’
Kitchenbrand was feeling confused. ‘What reason would he have for shootin’ at either of us?’
‘Landon Clovis don’t need no reason, same way he and the rest of ’em had no reason to tar and feather an old lady. That’s just the way they operate.’
‘Well, whoever it was,’ Kitchenbrand replied, ‘he’s wounded. There’s blood back in the trees.’
‘Can’t be hurt too bad or he wouldn’t have got away,’ Virginy said.
Kitchenbrand took a look all around. ‘Anything you want to try and save from this mess?’ he said.
Virginy shook her head. ‘Long as Reba is safe,’ she replied. The bird suddenly squawked again and, flapping its wings, rose into the air and flew into the higher branches of a tupelo tree.
‘There,’ Virginy said. ‘She’s done her duty and now she’s gone back to rest up.’
‘Wish we could do the same,’ Kitchenbrand replied, ‘but we need to get goin’.’ Virginy nodded. ‘Get back on the horse,’ Kitchenbrand said. ‘There’s nothin’ to be done here. The only sensible thing we can do right now is to get to Chaparral Bend.’
They returned to the horse but before mounting it Kitchenbrand turned to the old woman.
‘When we get there, the first thing I aim to do is pay the marshal a visit and I don’t want you on my coat tails when I do it.’
‘Ty is my grandson,’ she said. ‘I want to see him.’
‘Yeah, and so you will. But once we get to town I want you to keep out of the way, at least for the time being. You can book in at the hotel and enjoy its amenities till I tell you otherwise.’
‘I’m comin’ to Chaparral Bend,’ she replied, ‘but I ain’t stayin’ at no hotel. There’s an old run-down shack just outside of town will do me fine. Nobody ain’t lived there in a long time.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Kitchenbrand replied. Without waiting any further, he lifted her from the ground and slung her on the horse’s back.
‘I ain’t waitin’ for long. If’n you don’t get right back and tell me what’s happenin’ about Ty, I’m comin’ right in after you.’
‘You know,’ Kitchenbrand said, ‘I’m beginnin’ to think a spot of tarrin’ and featherin’ might not go amiss myself.’
‘Depends on whose doin’ it to who,’ she replied.
As Kitchenbrand stepped into leather, from the tops of the trees a loud cawing broke on their ears.
They rode steadily, Kitchenbrand’s senses alert for any sign of trouble. That shot from the trees worried him. Who could it have been? And was there a connection to everything else that had happened? The more he thought about the woman’s story, the more puzzling some of its elements became. There was something peculiarly vicious about the way she had been treated. If her grandson had come under suspicion of robbery and murder, that was one thing. It was understandable that a bunch of townsfolk should have turned up and taken him in. But then why should anyone have come back to tar and feather the old girl and destroy her home? That seemed more like something the Yuma boys might do.
He would need to talk with Virginy again. For some reason he tended to believe her claim in her grandson’s innocence but he could be wrong. A lot would depend on how things panned out in Chaparral Bend.
Kitchenbrand hadn’t been expecting much, but the shack proved to be even lower than his expectations. It was concealed among a grove of trees and bushes growing alongside a muddy stream and had obviously been abandoned long before. It leaned at an angle and parts of the roof had fallen in. The last remnants of what had been a porch hung lopsidedly and vegetation was rapidly taking over the rest of it.
‘Ah, nobody been in it since I was last here,’ Virginy said when she had swung down from the horse and pushed wide the already open door.
‘You mean you been here before?’ Kitchenbrand said.
‘Lords a’ mercy, I lived here long enough when Ty weren’t but a whippersnapper, and I made use of it a few times since. It were in better condition in those days.’ She broke off and her face split in a saw-toothed grin. ‘There’s my old armchair. And there’s my old saddle still lyin’ in the corner. I’m plumb feelin’ at home already.’
Kitchenbrand took another look about at the scene of squalor. ‘You sure you wouldn’t rather put up at the hotel?’ he asked.
‘Nope siree. I’ll be comfortable as a flea on a hound-dog right here.’
Kitchenbrand was weighing up the situation. ‘It ain’t far to town,’ he said. ‘But I figure I’ll leave it till the mornin’ to ride on in and get some stores. I got stuff in my saddle-bags so we won’t need much. I’ll get you some clothes too. That shirt of mine ain’t exactly befittin’.’
‘You don’t need to do that,’ she replied. ‘Might get folks talkin’, you comin’ away with female garments. But I thought we agreed not to waste any time.’
&nb
sp; ‘One night ain’t gonna make a difference.’ He moved towards the open door. ‘Sure you’ll be OK?’ he said.
‘I been lookin’ out for myself for more than sixty years,’ she replied. ‘Don’t need no greener to start worryin’ about me.’
Kitchenbrand grinned. ‘See you later then,’ he said.
He wasn’t planning to spend any time in the shack. It might suit the old lady, but he intended setting up camp right beside the stream. Then in the morning the first thing he would do would be to pay that visit to the marshal.
Chapter Two
There was something about Kitchenbrand that made people stop what they were doing and look. It would be hard to say just what it was. There was nothing unusual or prepossessing about his appearance, nothing striking about the way he dressed. Maybe it was an aura of calm that surrounded him.
He rode the roan gelding and when he reached the place where the gallows was being built, he stopped and looked up at it for a good few minutes. The town carpenter was putting the finishing touches to it, sitting high on the crossbeam hammering in nails. He halted in mid-swing and looked down at the stranger. The two exchanged glances before Kitchenbrand carried on riding as far as the marshal’s office, where he swung down and tied the horse to the hitchrack. His glance swept up and down the street and then, with a rap on the door, he stepped inside.
The marshal was reclining with his feet on his desk but he put them on the floor and sat up when Kitchenbrand entered. He put his hands on the desk in front of him as if to rise.
‘Seems like there’s gonna be a hangin’,’ Kitchenbrand said.
The marshal was nonplussed. He didn’t know how to take the intrusion. He observed that the stranger wore his gun butt foremost on his left hip.
‘What’s that to you?’ he said.
Kitchenbrand’s eyes glanced up to a door at the back of the room which gave entry to the cells and then rested on the marshal. ‘You got a boy in there called Ty Garland,’ he said. The marshal didn’t say anything either to confirm or deny the statement. ‘Some say he robbed the bank and shot somebody. He didn’t do it,’ Kitchenbrand concluded.
The marshal grunted. ‘Now that’s mighty interestin’,’ he replied. ‘But a lot of folk think different.’
‘Then they got it wrong,’ Kitchenbrand said. Despite his abrupt manner, the marshal was beginning to feel more comfortable. ‘I don’t think I caught your name,’ he said.
‘You don’t need to know it.’
‘Just the same, if you and I are goin’ to get any further with this, I’d appreciate havin’ it.’
‘Name’s Kitchenbrand, Hollis Kitchenbrand.’
‘Hollis Kitchenbrand,’ the marshal repeated. It seemed to him that he had heard the name before but he couldn’t think where. ‘OK, Mr Kitchenbrand. Just to complete the introductions, I’m Marshal Purdom.’
‘I’d like to see the boy,’ Kitchenbrand said.
This time the marshal did get to his feet. ‘I’m sure you would,’ he said, ‘but it wouldn’t be sensible for me to let you do that until I know just what this is all about.’
Kitchenbrand gave the marshal a searching look, then nodded. His attitude seemed to soften. ‘I guess that’s fair,’ he said.
For the first time the marshal noticed his dusty clothes. ‘Been ridin’?’ he said. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. ‘How about you and me step over to the saloon. I reckon you could maybe do with a drink.’
The shadow of a smile passed over Kitchenbrand’s features. ‘Coffee would be better,’ he said.
They were about to step outside when the marshal stopped and turned to Kitchenbrand. ‘Oh, one thing before we leave,’ he said.
‘Yeah, what’s that?’ Kitchenbrand replied.
‘I’d better take your guns. There’s a new rule in Chaparral Bend. No guns in public places. Introduced it myself.’
Kitchenbrand seemed to hesitate a moment before undoing the buckle of his gunbelt. He handed it to the marshal, who hung it on a stand in a corner of the room.
‘OK,’ Purdom said, ‘after you, Mr Kitchenbrand.’
They went out and the marshal locked the door behind them. The sounds of hammering reached their ears as they strode across the street to an establishment outside of which a rather grandiose sign read Fashion Restaurant and Coffee Shop. Inside, the place at least seemed to make some effort at respectability. There were tables with blue-checked cloths and flowers in vases. A woman in a blue gingham dress greeted the marshal.
‘Hello, Mr Purdom.’ She glanced at Kitchenbrand.
‘Hello, Bella,’ the marshal replied. ‘Seems kinda quiet today.’
‘It’s been like that recently. Looks like folks is keepin’ away from town.’
There was an unspoken meaning to her words but Kitchenbrand guessed it had something to do with the gallows. They took a seat near a window, the marshal taking care that he had a clear view of the street outside.
‘If you’re hungry, I can recommend Bella’s steak pie,’ he said.
‘Kinda early for me,’ Kitchenbrand replied. ‘Coffee would be fine.’
The marshal ordered coffee for them both. There was silence till it arrived and then it was Kitchenbrand who spoke. He didn’t bother with preliminaries but went straight to the point.
‘Ty Garland is innocent. He got in with a bad crowd. It was the Yuma gang that did the robbery and the shootin’.’
‘There are witnesses. They will identify Garland.’
‘More likely they are angry people who can be persuaded to make false statements.’
‘You got reasons for sayin’ that?’
‘Nope. But I think there’s more to it. You ever hear of an hombre by the name of Angel Addison?’ The marshal looked blank. He wasn’t giving anything away. ‘He’s leader of the Yuma gang. I’ve got a feelin’ he’s the one who should be in that jailhouse. I know the way Addison and the Yuma gang operate. I was responsible for puttin’ some of ’em in the Yuma penitentiary in the first place.’
The marshal looked up at the stranger. ‘I knew I’d heard the name before,’ he said. ‘You’re Crossdraw Kitchenbrand, the man who cleaned out Eagleton.’
Kitchenbrand wiped his mouth with a napkin. ‘Some damn fool people called me that. Figure it’s just a lot of tomfoolery myself.’ He finished eating and sat back. The marshal produced a pouch of tobacco and they built smokes.
‘What’s your relation to Ty Garland?’ Purdom asked.
Kitchenbrand inhaled deeply and blew out smoke from his nostrils. ‘Let’s just say I got an interest in justice bein’ served.’
The marshal looked steadily at Kitchenbrand as he drank the last dregs of his coffee.
‘You still haven’t said what makes you think Ty Garland don’t deserve to hang.’
‘I heard tell he was somewhere else on the night of the robbery.’
‘Can anyone vouch for that?’
‘Yes. Someone I happen to believe.’
The marshal’s face relaxed and almost broke into a smile. ‘Now you ain’t tellin’ me you’ve been talkin’ to Virginy Garland?’
‘She ain’t denyin’ Ty got tangled up with those Yuma boys. But the first she knew anythin’ about the robbery was when the posse turned up at her door.’
Just as the marshal was about to say something further there were sounds of a disturbance outside. He looked out of the window. A lot of people had suddenly appeared and were swarming down the street in the direction of his office.
‘Somethin’s happenin’,’ he said. He leaped to his feet and made for the door. Kitchenbrand took a last draw on his cigarette, stubbed it out in an ashtray, and walked over to the counter. ‘That was real good coffee,’ he said. ‘How much do I owe you?’
When he had paid he strode to the door and out into the sunlight. A large group of people had congregated outside the marshal’s office and he appeared to be arguing with those at the front. Kitchenbrand stepped off the boardwalk. People were shouting and as he
got closer he could make out what they were saying.
‘Hand him over, Marshal!’
‘Hangin’s too good for that low-down son of a skunk.’
He heard the marshal’s reply as he tried to make himself heard over the gathering tumult. ‘Let the law take its course. Get back to your business.’
Towards the back of the crowd Kitchenbrand observed a number of mean looking individuals who seemed to be urging the crowd on.
‘Get out of our way, Marshal,’ another voice shouted. ‘Don’t waste your time tryin’ to defend the varmint.’
‘We mean to have him. What can one man do? Be sensible and get out of our way.’
Kitchenbrand took a little detour around the crowd and then stepped up to the boardwalk alongside the marshal. ‘He ain’t one man now,’ he said.
‘Don’t pay him no mind,’ the voice called. ‘He ain’t even got a gun.’
Kitchenbrand’s arm was behind his back. Now he swung it forward. In his hand was the Sharps rifle he had just taken from its scabbard in front of his saddle.
‘Like the marshal said, go on back to where you came from and let the law take its course.’
The crowd still remained but a change could be detected. People weren’t quite so sure as they had been and one or two began slowly to drift away.
‘Go on!’ the marshal shouted. ‘This ain’t no way to go about things.’
A few more people began to shift and shuffle. Suddenly there was a crackle from the back of the mob and a bullet flew past Kitchenbrand’s ear, smashing the window of a shop behind him. People began to shout and scream as the mob started to scatter. The marshal’s revolver was in his hand as his eyes searched for the person who had fired the shot.
Another shot rang out from somewhere over their heads. Instantly Kitchenbrand’s rifle roared and from the roof of a building opposite a man came crashing headlong to the ground. The townsfolk were panicking now and running in all directions. The men Kitchenbrand had spotted at the back of the crowd seemed to have disappeared like smoke. He had no doubt in his mind that it was one of them who had fired the first shot but he had managed to make good his escape.
Six-Gun Nemesis Page 2