Vengeance Creek Read online

  “Okay,” Thomas said. “I’ll pour everybody some coffee.”

  Cory took his coffee and his plate to a dark corner and ate on his own. Rigoberto Colon also chose to eat alone, but he did so within the circle of the fire.

  Thomas and James sat at the fire and ate.

  “It feels funny,” James said.

  “What does?”

  “Bein’ here without Pa.”

  “I know,” Thomas said, “but Pa’s trustin’ us to do this, James.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “Then why send us with them?”

  “The more the merrier.”

  James looked around. “Nobody seems real merry.”

  “It’s just a sayin’, James.”

  “Pa only let us go because he got shot,” James said. “If he hadn’t, he’d be here with us.”

  “If he didn’t trust us, he never woulda let us go.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because if he didn’t think we could handle ourselves, James, he never woulda sent us out to get ourselves killed.”

  James looked thoughtful and said, “Hmph, I guess you’re right about that.”

  “Any more of those beans left?” Thomas asked.

  “Sure,” James said. “You like ’em?”

  “Let’s just say it’s all we’ve got.”

  Still later, James leaned back as the brothers were sharing a cup of coffee and asked, “Do you think Pa shoulda deputized them two?”

  He looked across the fire at Colon, and still farther away, at where Cory was seated.

  “I get the feelin’ they wouldn’t be here if he’d tried that. They don’t seem the badge-totin’ type,” Thomas said. “I think Pa did what he did to get them to come with us.”

  “I wish I knew who they really are.”

  “They seem to know what they’re doin’,” Thomas said. “That’s the important part.”

  “Aren’t you curious, Thomas?”

  “Hell, yes, I’m curious,” the older brother said. “I practically told Cory I was gonna find out who he really is.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He told me all I had to do was ask.”

  James looked surprised. “And did you?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t feel it was the right time.”

  “Well, let’s go and ask him now,” James suggested, sitting up straight.

  “Still not the right time, James.”

  “When will it be the right time?”

  Thomas shrugged and said, “We’ll know.”

  Cory came walking over to the fire and asked, “Any more of that coffee?”

  “Sure,” James said, reaching for the pot.

  “Why don’t you drink it here with us, Ralph?” Thomas asked while James filled the cup.

  “Sure,” Cory said, “why not?” and hunkered down across the fire from them.

  “Hey, Rigoberto,” Thomas called out. “Come have some more coffee with us.”

  “But of course,” Colon said, and walked over to the fire. “It would be my pleasure.”

  “You know,” Cory said to Colon, “for a drunk, you don’t seem to need a drink all that much.”

  “Who tol’ you I was a drunk because I need to be?” the Mexican asked. “We are men, señor. We make decisions in life.”

  “And your decision was to be a drunk?” Cory asked.

  “Just as yours was to be a gunsmith, no?”

  Ralph Cory frowned and said, “There was a lot more to it than that, for me.”

  “Perhaps you will tell us about it?”

  “Perhaps,” Cory said, “but not right now.”

  “And these two fine young gentlemen,” Colon said, “they decided to be lawmen.”

  “There was more to it than that for us too,” Thomas said.

  “The decision kinda got made for us,” James said.

  “How interesting,” Colon said. “Then I am the only one who made up my own mind?”

  The other three men stared at him, and then Cory said, “I get the feeling there was more to it than that for you too, Rigoberto.”

  Colon hesitated, then said, “Perhaps…but we are not gathered here to discuss that, are we?”

  37

  Thomas had given himself the last watch when he outlined it the night before. James went first, then Colon, and Ralph Cory was third. When Cory woke Thomas, he told him that he’d just made a fresh pot of coffee.

  “Want a cup before you turn in?” Thomas asked.

  “Sure.”

  They settled in at the fire with a cup each.

  “I’m ready,” Thomas said.

  “Ready for what?”

  “To ask you the question.”

  Cory picked up a stick and poked at the campfire, bringing it flaring to life. “Your Pa really didn’t tell you any of this?” he asked.

  “Pa didn’t tell us anything about you, Mr. Cory,” Thomas said. “I guess he wanted us to get to know each other on our own.”

  “First night out?”

  Thomas shrugged. “Curiosity got the better of me.”

  Cory fell silent.

  “Where do you know my pa from?” Thomas asked, figuring the man needed a shove to get started.

  “I never knew your pa,” Cory said, “but apparently he knew me from somewhere. He recognized me as soon as I moved to town.”

  “And he told you that?”

  “No,” Cory said. “He waited until yesterday for that. Waited until he needed me, I guess.”

  “So what’s the big secret?” Thomas asked. “Who are you, really?”

  “My real name is Dave Macky.”

  Thomas frowned because the name sounded familiar—and then he got it.

  “Bloody Dave Macky?” he asked. “The bounty hunter who always brought back his man dead?”

  “That’s a slight exaggeration,” Macky said, “but it happened often enough to earn me that nickname. I thought you and your brother might be too young to remember me.”

  “I only remember stories I heard.”

  “Everybody heard stories,” Macky said. “That’s why I was forced into bringing back so many men dead. They couldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Are you sayin’ they wanted to die?”

  Cory/Macky dropped the stick he’d been using to poke the fire and looked at Thomas.

  “I’m saying they all heard the stories about ‘Bloody Dave’ and figured they either had to fight or die. I told them to drop their weapons and I’d take them back live, but they didn’t believe me. They thought I’d gun them down in cold blood once they were unarmed, so they forced the issue.”

  “So you finally got tired of it?”

  “I got tired of the killing, yeah,” the man said. “I thought I was doing the right thing, bringing wanted men to justice, but it all changed. Too much killing. I walked away.”

  “And went where?”

  “Wherever I could go where people didn’t know me,” he said. “I’d use a phony name, try to start a life somewhere, but sooner or later someone would come to town and recognize me.”

  “Like my pa did.”

  Macky nodded. “Only he’s the only man who kept quiet about it…until now.”

  “He only did it because nobody in town would volunteer for the posse,” Thomas said. “Nobody came out to help us when the bank was hit.”

  “I know,” Macky said, looking away. “I…I feel bad about that. I started to grab a gun, to come out and help, but I hesitated…thought about it too long…and then it was all over.”

  “So that’s why you agreed to help?” Thomas asked. “Out of guilt?”

  “That’s one reason.”

  “What’s the other?”

  “Your pa, he gave me the option of saying no, said he still wouldn’t tell anyone who I was. How could I say no to that kind of an honest plea?”

  “That’s Pa,” Thomas said. “He’s
real honest.”

  “I understand he wasn’t always that way.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just another example of how honest he is, now.”

  “I realized that,” Macky said. “I tried to convince myself to say no anyway, but I couldn’t do it.”

  “So then the stories weren’t true?”

  “No,” Macky said. “Oh, I brought some men in draped over their saddles, but only when they gave me no choice. Soon, though, none of them did.”

  “So that’s why you’re such a good tracker?”

  “Experience,” Macky said. “I tracked so many men that soon it was my strength.”

  “So you think you can track these men?”

  “As long as they don’t manage to find some surface that won’t show sign.”

  “Like solid rock?”

  “You can track over solid rock,” Macky said. “Shod horses, anyway.”

  “We gotta catch these men, Mister…what do I call you? Cory? Macky?”

  “Call me Ralph,” the man said. “Ralph Cory is the name I’m hoping to go back to after this is all over.”

  “All right, Ralph.”

  “I expect you to tell your brother,” Cory said. “And Colon, I guess.”

  “Yes, but I won’t tell anyone else, Ralph,” Thomas said, “I swear.”

  “I believe you,” Cory said. “I’m sure your brother will keep quiet as well.”

  “And Rigoberto?”

  Cory hesitated, then said, “Go ahead and tell him. I get the feeling he’s got some secrets of his own. We all do.”

  “I don’t,” Thomas said.

  “You and your brother are young,” Cory said, getting to his feet. “But you will have secrets, eventually. I’m going to turn in, Thomas.”

  “Good night, then…Ralph,” Thomas said. “Thanks for bein’ honest with me.”

  “Seems to be what you Shayes value,” Cory said.

  Cory rolled himself up in his bedroll, as it had gotten chilly during the night. Thomas poured himself another cup of coffee and dwelled on the fact that he was tracking bank robbers and killers with the famous—and infamous—Bloody Dave Macky.

  38

  In the morning, Thomas decided to start the day by introducing James and Rigoberto to Dave Macky. This way, at least they all knew they were riding with a professional.

  “I am impressed,” Colon said, after “Ralph Cory’s” real identity was revealed.

  “Don’t be,” Cory said.

  “And what do we call you, now that we know who you are?” James asked.

  The answer was the same one Thomas had gotten during the night.

  “Just call me Ralph,” Cory said. “That’s the name I answer to.”

  “Now that we’ve got that settled,” Thomas said, “let’s break camp and get movin’. Ralph, you’ll take point again. Berto, you ride drag.”

  “Sí, mi jefe.”

  As they collected their gear and saddled their horses, James said to Thomas, “I feel odd.”

  “About what?”

  “Us bein’ in charge when we got Bloody Dave Macky riding with us.”

  “He’s not Macky, James,” Thomas said. “He’s Ralph Cory. Let’s try to remember that.”

  “But Macky, he’s a legend.”

  “Remember what Pa told us about him bein’ Shay Daniels?” Thomas asked. “If we allow him to leave that in the past we got to allow Ralph Cory the same thing.”

  “I can’t believe Pa knew about him and never told us.”

  “Pa doesn’t tell us everything, James,” Thomas said, “and we don’t tell him everything.”

  As Thomas led his horse away, James called after him, “Hey, what are we keepin’ from Pa?”

  With the campfire stamped cold, the members of the four man posse mounted up and headed off single file in the direction of the tracks. They rode in silence for some time, each apparently alone with his own thoughts.

  About midday Cory called a halt to their progress and once again dismounted to inspect the ground.

  “Rigoberto?” he called. “You want to have a look?”

  Colon handed the reins of his horse to James, dismounted and walked over to where Cory was crouched.

  The two men examined the tracks left by three horses, exchanged a few words, then stood up and faced the two young deputies.

  “We’re agreed that we think we’ll catch up to the third man before he catches up to the first two.”

  “That’s not who we want,” James protested. “He wasn’t in the bank when the people were killed.”

  “If we run him down first,” Colon said, “we will not have much choice, Deputy. We cannot just let him go.”

  “Berto is right, James,” Thomas said. “We’re gonna have to take them as they come.”

  “Then will one of us have to take him back to town?” James asked. “I don’t want it to be me, Thomas.”

  “I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t keep him with us,” Cory said, before Thomas could reply. “He might come in handy predicting where the other two might go.”

  “Why don’t we deal with that if and when it happens,” Thomas said. “Right now whataya all say we keep movin’.”

  “You two are in charge,” Cory said.

  He and Colon mounted up. James handed Colon back his reins, and Thomas did the same for Cory.

  “We do have something to secure these men with when we catch up to them, don’t we?” Cory asked.

  “Um, we can tie them up.”

  “No chains? Or manacles?” Cory asked.

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” the ex-bounty hunter said, patting his saddlebags. “I have my own.”

  39

  Ben Cardwell dumped the remnants of the morning’s coffee on the fire and shook out the pot. Simon Jacks came walking over, leading both their horses. At Cardwell’s feet were his saddlebags with his share of the money. Jack’s saddlebags were already on his horse. They hadn’t actually gone through the saddlebags to see how much was in each, because they were on the run, so their split hadn’t yet been made. Cardwell wanted to wait until they were someplace safe, and until then they were joined at the hip.

  “Ready to go?” Jacks asked.

  “Just let me put this coffeepot away,” Cardwell said.

  While he did that, Jacks took the time to look behind them, around them, and ahead. Nobody was in sight.

  “If I was Davis,” he said, “I woulda traveled at night to make up some time.”

  “Not him,” Cardwell said. “He hates to ride at night.”

  “Maybe I should just wait here and ambush him,” Jacks suggested. “Get rid of him once and for all.”

  “Sure,” Cardwell said. “Just let me have your saddlebags and I’ll take care of the money.”

  “You don’t trust me to catch up to you with the money that’s in my saddlebags?”

  “Let’s just say I trust you more than anyone else, Jacks,” Cardwell said, “and the answer is no. When it comes to this much money, I don’t trust anybody.”

  “You know what?” Jacks said. “Neither do I. Why don’t we both wait here for him and get rid of him?”

  “Because on the off chance that there actually is a posse coming after us,” Cardwell said, “we better just keep movin’.”

  Jacks handed Cardwell the reins of his horse and said, “Okay, so let’s go.”

  Both men mounted up and took the opportunity to look around them again.

  “Nothin’,” Jacks said.

  “For now,” Cardwell said, “but I coulda swore I smelled a campfire last night.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Jacks said.

  “Bacon?”

  Jacks nodded. They had made coffee and beans the night before, and that was all.

  “Let’s move, Simon,” Cardwell said. “Faster we get to a town, the faster we can split the money.”

  And go our separate ways, Jacks added to himself.
/>   40

  Ben Cardwell and Simon Jacks came to the town of Blue Mesa, Arizona, at around dusk. It was only a few miles from the borders of Colorado and Utah Territory. From there they could go on to either, or they could split up and go their separate ways.

  Jacks was having second thoughts about doing that, though. While he had not counted the money in his saddlebags, he knew it was more than he’d ever had at one time before. That was due to Ben Cardwell, and he knew it. Even once they combined the contents of their saddlebags and then split the money in half, he would have more money that he’d ever had before—but was that enough? Apparently, not for Ben Cardwell. He’d been talking for days about this bank he knew of in Colorado.

  “You think this is a lot of money?” he’d asked Jacks, tapping his saddlebags. “This ain’t nothin’.”

  Cardwell could be an asshole sometimes, but for the promise of more money Jacks thought he could put up with it. He liked not having to do any of the planning himself.

  “We been ridin’ for days,” he said as they rode into Blue Mesa. “Is this where we finally count the money?”

  Cardwell had refused to count up the money until they could do it in a hotel room, and so far they hadn’t passed a town he wanted to stop in.

  “This is it,” he said, “and then we can either stay together or go our separate ways.”

  “I think I’d kinda like to see this other bank you been talkin’ about,” Jacks said.

  Cardwell smiled and said, “I thought you might.”

  At that same moment, Sean Davis was preparing to spend another night in a cold camp. He was a day’s ride from Blue Mesa, although he didn’t know it. He had a feeling he knew where Cardwell and Jacks were heading. Cardwell had always talked about this one bank he wanted to hit—said that it might even be his last job. Davis just hoped that the two men wouldn’t split up at some point, because then he’d have to choose which trail to follow. He didn’t much care about Simon Jacks, who just did whatever Cardwell told him.

  The one he wanted to catch up to was Cardwell.

  “They’re headin’ northeast,” Ralph Cory said.

  “You sound surprised,” Thomas said.

  “I thought they’d head for Utah Territory.”

  “And where do you think they’re headed now?” James asked.

  “Well, it could still be Utah,” Cory said, “but it might be Colorado.”