by A. T. Butler
Jacob didn’t respond, but looked at Colin with interest. Especially considering what Fitz had shared with him about this man, Jacob wondered how such a ruthless person could have allowed himself to be captured so easily.
“If I take that gag off,” he said, “you’ll need to answer some questions for me. How does that sound?”
Colin glowered from beneath his heavy black eyebrows, but after a moment nodded.
“Alright then,” Jacob said, still riding alongside the wagon. “C’mere.”
The outlaw inched his way as close to the side of the wagon as he could and leaned toward Jacob. The bounty hunter pulled down the gag and was rewarded with a string of cursing that would make the most battle-hardened soldier blush.
Jacob merely waited him out. If the man actually had something he wanted to communicate, he’d get to it eventually. In so many cases with men like this, simple patience was enough to tip the scale in the law’s favor. The longer Jacob failed to give him a reaction, the angrier Colin grew until he finally lapsed into silence.
After a long moment of quiet, Jacob finally spoke.
“You through?”
“You motherf—”
“As I said, Mr. Maloney,” Jacob interrupted, “I removed your gag in order to ask you some questions. You ready for that or should we put it back on you?”
“What do you want?” he grumbled.
“What happened to the rest of your gang once you three were inside the bank?”
Whatever question Colin had been expecting, this wasn’t it. He pulled back a little in surprise before blurting out, “Nothin’!”
“Nothing? Come on, now. The deputies saw a whole crowd of men just ride away, taking your horses with them. Why would they do that when they had no clue what was happening inside the bank?”
“You’ll have to ask them once you catch them, huh, Jacob Payne?”
Jacob frowned. “You know my name?”
Colin looked smug, smiling with lips closed tight.
“All right then,” Jacob said. “Another question. I thought you boys were professionals. Why were we able to take you in with just an injured bounty hunter and a couple scared kids?”
“Just not my day, I guess,” Colin said with a shrug. “I’ve always been unlucky.”
“That seems unlikely.”
“What can I say? The big, strong, invincible Jacob Payne outsmarted me.”
Jacob didn’t like the venom the other man had injected into the word invincible. Though it had only been a few days since it had happened, it occurred to Jacob that maybe Colin knew he had been the one to kill his brother Seamus. With the right connections, under the right circumstances, word could have spread to the Slippery Stone Gang already. He debated with himself whether to come out and ask the man, but decided against it.
“One more question. Where’s Stone now?”
Colin laughed, just a small chuckle at first, before it developed into a full-blown cackle. He had trouble catching his breath, he was laughing so hard. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but with his hands bound, the outlaw couldn’t wipe them away.
Jacob knew the man was laughing at him, but he didn’t care enough about what he thought to mind the mocking. The bounty hunter was—had always been—on the right side of the law and a little laughter wouldn’t deter him.
He didn’t bother to put Colin’s gag back, but slowed his horse just enough to find him riding again behind the wagon, alongside Deputy Lowry.
“Worth it, Payne?” the deputy asked with a smile. “You didn’t really think he’d give you anything useful, did you?”
“You can get a lot more information from the way a man answers you than you can from what is said. I still think these men were taken down far too easily, and nothing Maloney just said to me has swayed me from that notion.”
“However we got ‘em, we did get ‘em. This is three less men that Slippery Stone has to do his bidding and rob other banks around the territory. We’ll get these boys back to Tucson, throw ‘em in jail and get a judge to take care of ‘em right quick. You did good, Payne. Don’t let your doubts convince you otherwise.”
“Thanks, Deputy.”
“You looking forward to getting back?”
“I am. Yes. I hadn’t thought to take any jobs this week. Glad I could be there to help this time, but I do need to give myself at least a few days to rest. This bullet wound is nothing less than aggravating.”
“Rest. Heal. Court your girl. I get it,” the deputy said with a grin.
“That’s also a priority, yes,” Jacob allowed with a smile. “Bonnie has been so supportive of all of this. If I can pay her back by being at least in the city for more than a couple days at a time, I’d like to do that.”
“You’re a good man, Jacob. Bonnie would be lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to even know her, Deputy. And I intend to tell her so as soon as I can.”
Jacob looked up ahead and caught the eye of Colin Maloney. Had he overheard their conversation? The anger evident in his face made Jacob almost certain that the outlaw had heard the details of his brother’s death. While the bounty hunter was confident in his skills and advantage, he still found himself being grateful that the other man was bound.
Jacob counted down the hours til he was back in Tucson, away from this man and near again to Bonnie Loft.
Chapter Ten
Riding into Tucson after dark, all of the men were in a hurry to get their captives transferred to the jail and out from under their watch. Deputy Little pulled the full wagon up in front of the building, and with guns leveled at the prisoners, the four men pulled the outlaws to the ground. They were marched inside and had their bindings and gags removed before they were shut in for the night.
Once the locked doors clicked behind them, Jacob breathed a sigh of relief at a job well done.
Putting them in separate cells filled the jail, but Santos assured them that the judge would be able to handle their sentencing in the next few days. They could stay put, cooling their heels till the end of the week. And if another criminal came along that also needed a jail cell in Tucson, they could deal with that then.
Jacob said his goodnights, and walked his horse Blaze through the dark streets to the livery. He was ready to be done. He had been relieved to see the back of Colin Maloney. The way the outlaw had watched him during their full day riding back to town had unnerved Jacob.
But now that the man was under lock and key, Jacob could put him from his mind and move on to the next problem. As much as he would like to believe he could easily hit the road again for another bounty, he knew that he would only be hurting himself more. He might be strong and resilient, but he would only stay that way by making prudent decisions. He’d stay put in town too, giving his wound just a few more days to heal before he put his body under strain again.
Jacob was impatient, but he was practical.
That night, he slept like the dead. It was a solid, dreamless sleep that he had needed more than he realized. When he woke the following morning, the first thing he recalled was that Bonnie did not yet know he was back in town.
She would be the focus of his day.
It was still too early in the morning for Jacob to pay her a call, so he contented himself with attending to other personal matters. He hadn’t had a bath in several days. He needed to clean his gun and empty his travel pack. And he had promised himself he’d treat his horse, Blaze, to a handful of carrots and an apple now that they were back from another hunt. That animal was his right hand when he was on a job, and deserved the best.
As Blaze munched on his second apple in the livery, Jacob stroked the horse’s neck absentmindedly and pulled out his pocket watch. It was mid-morning by now, late enough that Jacob could seek out Bonnie without appearing overeager. Not that he minded if she knew he wanted to see her, but he didn’t want to take up too much of her time.
He said good-bye to Blaze and headed back toward the center of town. He was closest to the c
afe, and though he didn’t know if Bonnie would be there today he had to check. When he ducked his head in, Mrs. Everill greeted him cheerily.
“Mr. Payne, you’re back! We’re so pleased to see you.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He continued to look around the room for a sign of his sweetheart, but didn’t want to appear rude to the older woman.
“I don’t see any new bandages,” she teased. “You seem to have gotten through another adventure unscathed.”
“I did, ma’am, yes. Everything is under control.” He peered over her head to the open door of the kitchen, but didn’t discern any movement.
“You wouldn’t be looking for Miss Loft, would you?”
Jacob grinned. “Might be. Is she here?”
“Not yet, Mr. Payne. I’m expecting her in an hour or so. You’re welcome to stay—”
—But Jacob was already on his way out the door. If Bonnie wasn’t there he didn’t need to be either.
“Thank you, Mrs. Everill,” he called cheerily.
The last thing he heard as he exited was her chuckling at him.
He bounded up the steps to the front door of Bonnie’s boarding house and knocked firmly. He all but bounced on the balls of his feet, anticipating seeing her again, talking to her, learning about how she had spent the last few days. When the door opened, he knew he already had a wide smile on his face. Bonnie herself had answered the door, and Jacob was grateful for the short reprieve from her landlady’s disapproval.
“Jacob,” she said in surprise. “You’re home.”
“For a few days at least.”
She looked him up and down, studying him in the same way Mrs. Everill had. “You’re uninjured?” she asked anxiously.
“The previous wound still smarts a bit, but no new injuries. I’ll stick around town for another few days to be sure of it.”
She smiled, teasing him. “I’ve heard that before.”
“I know. You’re right.” He restrained himself from taking her hand in his. “But I’ve told the marshal the same. I’m not really sure they even needed me this last time.”
“I’ll get some lemonade and you can tell me all about it. Make yourself comfortable,” she said, gesturing him to the rocking chair on the porch.
He sat, resting his hands on his knees, and tried to relax. The morning sun was serene, and the street Bonnie lived on was quiet and comfortable. He could see why she liked living here. The moment she stepped back onto the porch with a pitcher and two glasses, Jacob felt his whole body sink into the chair. He was calm. This is where he needed to be.
Bonnie poured them each a glass of cold, sweet lemonade, and prompted him with a question. With her as the adoring audience, he blossomed into a storyteller. His descriptions of Fitz, of W. Henry Ferguson, and of Sheriff Gleason brought these men to life for her. His tale of capturing the outlaws made her gasp with worry, and ask the same questions Jacob himself had been asking. Bonnie’s feedback helped him appreciate what he had done even more, and made him proud to be a man of the law.
She listened attentively, until a full hour had passed. Bonnie stood up, taking the nearly empty pitcher with her.
“Jacob, I’m so sorry, but I have to be getting to the cafe.”
“I’ll walk you there,” he offered as he stood. “Let me carry your apron or your—”
“I’m fine, Jacob,” she said with a laugh. “Really.”
She entered the house leaving him on the porch to wait. And wait he did, determined to see her to her next destination. He had only just got back; he wasn’t going to give up even five minutes he could be spending with her. When she returned to him, she had changed into an old dress, and had her apron in hand.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said, smiling at him. But she did hand him her apron which he tucked under one arm, while offering her his other elbow.
“I want to,” he assured her.
“Thank you,” she said demurely, taking it. “I’d be happy to have company between here and there.”
The walk to the cafe was just as soothing as the past hour on her porch had been. She told him about the turkeys her neighbor had just acquired and the quilt she had started the day before, all the things he had missed in town while he was gone. He offered to meet her that night to walk her home again and she accepted. Jacob could get used to this. He could easily fill every day he was in Tucson with moments just like this.
The problem became that he never knew how much time he would be spending in Tucson. He hated to keep her waiting for him, but as of yet she hadn’t seemed to mind.
“I’m glad you’re back, Jacob,” she said.
“I am too. Now that I am, I am hoping to be able to accompany you to church this Sunday. Would that be all right?”
“There isn’t anything I’d like more.” Bonnie beamed at him.
Chapter Eleven
Jacob tore himself away. He had enjoyed every moment of walking Bonnie to the San Xavier Cafe, and he had secured seeing her the coming Sunday. This was exactly how he had wanted to spend his first day back in town. But now she had to focus on her work. Someday, maybe soon, he could give her a home and support so she wouldn’t have to work. But until that happened he would support her as much as he could, which sometimes meant drinking cup after cup of coffee.
But as much as he wanted to, Jacob wouldn’t let himself spend all day just watching Bonnie wait tables. That wasn’t the rest that he needed to do. He had promised her he would rest, so he readied himself to head back to his boarding house.
Just one step out the door and he was diverted.
As he exited the cafe, Jacob was surprised to hear gunshots coming from down the street. He looked around frantically, trying to identify the source of the sound. Who could be doing that? It was the middle of the day, and everyone was out. There shouldn’t be shooting going on. Someone could get hurt.
Someone might already be hurt.
And he had to stop it.
Jacob took off running toward where he heard the sounds.
After only a few steps he realized two things: he was running toward the jail and the number of gunshots had increased, accompanied by angry yelling. Jacob ran faster toward the noises, holding a hand to the bandage on his side as he felt the still-healing muscles strain with the exercise.
Jacob rounded the corner onto Court Avenue and found himself only blocks away from complete chaos.
At first glance he couldn’t even tell what was happening, only that there were more than a dozen men in the street—fighting, pushing, shooting, screaming. Horses kicked up dust as they ran loose about the mob, some guided by riders but others simply on their own. Jacob continued to run, though he slowed as he grew closer to the mess, unsure what he could do or who he could help.
If this was happening anywhere near the jail, he needed to find the marshal.
As Jacob tried to wrap his brain around what was happening, he realized that most of the men in the horde wore kerchiefs and scraps of cloth over their faces. He couldn’t identify any of them. All masked strangers. All congregated outside the Tucson jail.
Jacob felt his stomach drop; he hated to put words to what he was seeing.
It couldn’t be a coincidence that the day after they capture three members of the most notorious outlaw gang in the territory, that a larger posse of masked men appear wreaking havoc outside the Tucson jail.
There appeared to be at least ten or so men pushing themselves through the doorway into the jail. Whoever was on the other side of the door was holding his own, but Jacob could see that the throng would soon be able to break through. On either side of the jail, and across the street, the other dozen men were breaking everything they could get their hands on—from the front window of the dry goods shop to the sacks of flour in their back storeroom.
Goods, furniture, pills and tinctures from the pharmacy were already strewn about the street. The wife of the pharmacist—Mrs. Bart—sat dejectedly on the boardwalk twenty feet from her family’s s
tore, sobbing into her hands.
Mr. Hansen, the dry goods storeowner, pulled on the arms of one of the outlaws, trying to rip the bolt of cloth from his hands. His face was nearly purple with anger as he shouted at the men destroying his livelihood. Across the street, immediately next to the jail, was a small school. It seemed as though the outlaw gang had no regard for the security of children either. Broken slates and loose paper nearly covered the boardwalk in front of the building.
All of the damage and chaos that was filling the streets served to distract from their true aim—which Jacob now suspected was access to the captives that had been brought in the previous night.
Quickly scanning the crowd, Jacob identified Tucson residents, neighbors and Good Samaritans trying to help, but none of the lawmen he needed. There must be someone on the other side of that door, but were they all there? Or was Jacob on his own?
He realized he had stopped running with still a block to go. The bounty hunter paused a minuscule moment to choose his path, and then set off running again.
He had to protect the jail.
As he ran, Jacob released the hammer loop and drew his revolver. Fortunately, in his chores that morning, he had made time to clean the gun and reload it completely. He was as ready as he could be with the injury he still sported. For a brief moment he considered covering his own face with a cloth to try to blend in with the outlaws, but they had already spotted him.
Jacob threw himself into the throng, gun leveled, throwing elbows and pushing his way to the door of the jail.
“Get back!” he cried. “All of you!”
Only a tiny fraction of the men even noticed him, and those two seemed to be laughing at him.
Jacob grabbed the shoulder of one of the men and spun him around. “Get away from the jail,” he commanded, pushing the muzzle of his revolver directly into the man’s chest.
Over his mask, the man’s eyebrows furrowed. He pushed Jacob aside and continued shoving his way toward the closed door.
The bounty hunter was now in the middle of the group of men pushing their way toward the jail. He had his gun out, held above his head, and he continued to shout commands but they ignored him completely. He felt the muscles of the man behind him press into his back, giving no regard to Jacob standing there and simply carrying him along with the tide of bodies pressing toward the door.