Vengeance Creek Page 13

  “James,” he said, “it’s worth talking to Mr. Wilson about.”

  “Send Colon.”

  “That’s not why he’s here.”

  “Then Cory.”

  “Same reason.”

  “Why me?”

  “I didn’t say you.”

  “But you were gonna.”

  “I gotta get back,” Forbes said. “I saw your fire, smelled it, figured I’d check it out. Since you’re lawmen, I got no beef with you. I gotta get back to work. Is somebody comin’ with me?”

  “Yes,” Thomas said, “I am.”

  “Thomas—”

  “Just keep following the trail, James,” Thomas said. “I’ll be able to follow the one left by you and Ralph and Berto.”

  “Take Berto with you,” James suggested.

  “No reason to,” Thomas said. “I’m just gonna talk to Mr. Wilson, see if he knows either of the men who were ridin’ his horses. I’ll be along in no time.” He turned to Forbes. “Just let me get my horse and I’ll be right with you.”

  “Sure,” Forbes said. “Left my horse back a ways. We can pick him up and ride back to the ranch.”

  “Fine.” Thomas turned and exchanged a glance with Cory, who followed him to the horses.

  “You want me to watch James?” he asked.

  “I’d be obliged,” Thomas said.

  “You’re doing the right thing, Thomas,” Cory said. “Berto and I can take care of him.”

  “Yeah, well,” Thomas said, saddling his horse, “don’t let him know you’re takin’ care of him, understand?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “He’s still the one with the badge.”

  “I know it,” Cory said. “Berto and I are just…volunteers, sort of.”

  “This shouldn’t put me more than half a day behind you,” Thomas said, turning his horse so he could mount up.

  “Maybe, like your brother said, you should take Rigoberto along to watch your back,” Cory said.

  “Against what?” Thomas asked. “I’m just gonna ask the man some questions.” He mounted up. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You better be,” Cory said. “I don’t want to have to explain to your father that I let you go off alone.”

  “You didn’t let me do anythin’,” Thomas said. “My decision, remember?”

  “I remember.”

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  Thomas rode back to where Forbes was waiting, extended a hand and pulled the man up behind him.

  “See you, little brother,” he said. “Keep on the trail. I’ll catch up soon.”

  “Be careful,” James said.

  “Keep these other two in line.”

  “Count on it.”

  As Cory reached the fire, Thomas rode off, following Forbes’s directions to his horse.

  “I think one of you should have gone with him,” James said to Cory and Colon.

  “His decision, James,” Cory said.

  “Yeah, well,” James said, “I’m wearin’ a badge, and I get to make some decisions too…don’t I?”

  44

  Thomas found Hal Forbes’s horse and then waited while the man mounted up. It may not have been absolutely necessary for him to go to the Double W ranch, but if there was even a chance he might find out something to help them get ahead of robbers, he wanted to take it.

  “We’re not that far from the house,” Forbes said. “Just ride along with me.”

  They rode side by side, and in the course of asking questions, Forbes heard Thomas’s full name. “Shaye?” he said.

  “That’s right.”

  “As in Sheriff Dan Shaye of Vengeance Creek?”

  “Right again.”

  “I heard about you and your father,” Forbes said. “You tracked down the Langer gang.”

  “More people have heard about that than I thought,” Thomas said.

  “Well, that was something for you and your pa and your brothers to do.”

  “It wasn’t such a somethin’,” Thomas said.

  “Well, Mr. Wilson’s gonna be glad to meet you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He likes meetin’ men with reputations.”

  “I don’t have a reputation.”

  “You outdrew Ethan Langer,” Forbes said, “and then you didn’t kill him. You crippled him and sent him to prison.”

  “I know what I did, Mr. Forbes.”

  “It’s Hal.”

  “Hal,” Thomas said, “I ain’t proud of what I done to Ethan Langer. More and more I think I shoulda just killed him.”

  “What you did was worse,” Forbes said, with undisguised admiration, “much worse.”

  “I know….”

  “They’re headin’ for Colorado,” Cory said. “No doubt about that.”

  “I agree,” Colon said.

  “Maybe they’ll stop someplace first,” James offered.

  Cory and Colon were on their feet, while James was still mounted and holding the reins of their horses.

  “They’ll have to,” Cory said. “They’re going to need supplies.”

  “That is when they might split up,” Colon said, “and we will have to decide which trail to follow if that happens.”

  “I know that, Berto,” James said. “When that time comes, I’ll make the decision.”

  “Sí,” Colon said. “You are el jefe now.”

  The two men mounted up, and the three continued on in silence. James couldn’t help but worry about Thomas.

  Simon Jacks found Ben Cardwell in the hotel dining room, having breakfast. He had both sets of saddlebags with him when he sat down across from the partner.

  “Found yours under the bed,” Jacks said. “I couldn’t bring myself to leave them in the room, though.”

  “Just as well,” Cardwell said. “We’ll have to get movin’ right after breakfast.”

  “Headin’ where?” Jacks asked. “You ain’t told me where this other bank is yet.”

  “It’s in Colorado.”

  “But where in Colorado?”

  “You’ll just have to keep ridin’ with me to find out, Simon.”

  “I’m ready to do that, Ben,” Jacks said. “Just let me get a little somethin’ into my stomach first.”

  “Flapjacks are okay,” Cardwell said.

  Jacks called the waiter over and ordered a tall stack of flapjacks on Cardwell’s say so.

  Sean Davis had risen while it was still dark and got an early start. He figured he’d make Blue Mesa by noon. If Cardwell and Jacks were there and they got a late start, he just might catch up to them. If not, then he’d buy a few supplies and just keep going. Davis knew he was the better tracker, and he could see that the trail he was following was growing fresher.

  He was getting closer and closer….

  “Blue Mesa,” Ralph Cory said.

  “What’s that?” James asked.

  “It’s a town I know, nestled right in the corner of Arizona, so that you got your choice of where you want to go, Utah Territory or Colorado.”

  “That’s where you think they’re goin’?”

  “It makes sense.” He looked at the Mexican. “What do you think, Berto?”

  “Sí, Señor Cory,” Colon replied, “as you say, it makes sense. I too know of this town. It is not large, but it is the biggest in this part of the country.”

  “So they’d be able to outfit there,” James said.

  “They can do whatever they want there,” Cory said. “What we have to hope is that they take a rest.”

  “How long before we make it?”

  “If we push,” Cory said, “we could get there by nightfall.”

  James turned in his saddle without stopping his horse and looked behind him.

  “He’ll be along, James,” Cory said. “Thomas will be along.”

  45

  “I didn’t notice any packhorses,” Forbes said to Thomas as they approached the ranch house. “If you need some, we can probably provide them.”

  “Th
at’s okay. We decided to travel light, hopin’ to catch up,” Thomas said.

  Thomas noticed he was attracting attention from some of the other hands, who stopped what they were doing to watch him and Forbes ride in.

  Forbes reined in his horse in front of the house and dismounted, signaling to Thomas to do the same.

  “Mr. Wilson will be inside.”

  “How do you know without checkin’?”

  “He never leaves the house.” Forbes turned, signaled to one of the watching hands to come over, and handed him his horse’s reins. “Give him yours. He’ll look after your horse.”

  “Don’t unsaddle him,” Thomas said. “I won’t be here that long.”

  “No problem. Come on.”

  Thomas followed Forbes up the steps to the front door. The house was two stories high with a porch that wrapped around.

  “Impressive house.”

  “Mr. Wilson built it himself.”

  The foreman opened the front door and led Thomas inside. They were in a large, high-ceilinged living room. The furniture also looked as if someone had made it themselves. Not fancy. But good, solid work.

  “Your Mr. Wilson looks like a real do-it-yourself man.”

  “He was,” a woman said.

  Thomas turned and found himself looking at a pretty young woman holding a gun on him. When he turned to look at Forbes, he found himself looking down the barrel of a second gun.

  “What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

  “That’s what you’re going to tell us,” the woman said.

  “Whataya say, Doc?” Dan Shaye asked.

  Doc Simpson looked at him, wiping his hands dry on a towel. “What are you asking me?”

  “Can I sit a horse?”

  “You want that wound to open and start bleeding again, yeah, sure,” the sawbones said. “You thinking of doing that?”

  “That’s just what I was thinkin’ of doin,” Shaye said. He slipped off the doctor’s table and started buttoning his shirt. “It’s been a week, and I need to go after them.”

  “Sheriff,” Simpson said, “you got lucky with that bullet, but if that wound gets infected—”

  “You got it wrapped nice and tight, Doc,” Shaye said. “What else would I have to do?”

  Simpson stared at him for a few moments, then shrugged.

  “Keep it clean,” he said. “If it starts to bleed, clean it out with some whiskey, wrap it again. Just don’t let it fester and get infected.”

  “How will I know if it’s infected?”

  “Don’t worry,” Simpson said. “You’ll smell it.”

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  “Don’t thank me,” the doctor said. “Just don’t come back dead.”

  Shaye went to see the mayor, who was sitting in his office with a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

  “That’s not helpin’.”

  “She’s dead,” Timmerman said. “Nothing’s going to bring her back.”

  “Now you feel guilty?” Shaye asked. “A week later.”

  Timmerman took a drink from the bottle, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and asked, “What do you want, Sheriff?”

  “I’m goin’ after them myself,” Shaye said.

  “Your boys are probably dead too.”

  “I don’t think so,” Shaye said, “but thanks for the thought.” He walked to the door. “I’ll find someone to deputize in my stead.”

  “I don’t care,” Timmerman said.

  “You will,” Shaye said, “once that bottle’s empty. I’m gonna bring the money back, Mayor, and the bank robbers.”

  Timmerman waved a hand, but Shaye was gone.

  At the livery, he saddled his horse and tied a canvas bag to the saddle horn. All he needed was some beef jerky, some coffee, and a canteen. He was going to travel fast.

  “You and your boys comin’ back, Sheriff?” Ron Hill asked.

  “We’ll be back, Hill,” Shaye said. “Mean-while…” He took a deputy’s badge from his pocket and pinned it on the liveryman’s chest. “…you’re in charge.”

  “What?” he said as Shaye mounted up. “I’m no lawman.”

  “That’s okay,” Shaye said. “The mayor’s no mayor either. Just keep the office clean.”

  He rode out of the livery, leaving Hill to sputter his protests behind him. All he was concerned with was getting his boys back, along with the money and the bank robbers. After that he had a feeling they’d be leaving Vengeance Creek as far behind them as they’d hoped to leave Epitaph.

  46

  “I don’t understand,” Thomas said. “I only came here to ask some questions.”

  “Hal?”

  “He and some others were down by the stream,” Forbes replied. “Said they were trackin’ some men who were ridin’ some of our horses. Said they were law.”

  “Deputies,” Thomas said, indicating the badge on his chest, “from Vengeance Creek.”

  “You’re a little far from home.” She was a woman, but just barely, probably twenty-four or-five. She was wearing a man’s work shirt and jeans, and a pair of work-worn boots.

  “Who are you?” Thomas asked.

  “My name’s Wendy Wilson.”

  “I came here to talk to your—”

  “Father,” she said. “My father.”

  “Is he here?”

  “He’s dead,” she said. “He was killed about two weeks ago. The men who killed him stole some horses.”

  “Okay, I think I understand,” Thomas said. “The men I’m trackin’ are also the men who killed your father. They came to Vengeance Creek and hit our bank, killed all the people who worked in it.”

  “Hal?” the pretty girl said.

  “I believe him, Wendy.”

  “If you’ll put your guns down,” Thomas said, “we can talk about it.”

  “There’s not much to talk about,” Wendy Wilson said, “but we’ll put our guns down.”

  She lowered hers, followed by Hal Forbes.

  “Sorry,” Forbes said, “but we can’t be too careful.”

  Thomas thought the man might have had cause to be suspicious, but that he also might have produced his gun to impress the woman—because she was his boss now, or for some other reason?

  “Do you know the names of the men who killed your father?” Thomas asked Wendy.

  She went to a chair and sat down. The gun dangled between her legs, forgotten. Forbes had holstered his. Now he walked to the girl and took the gun from her. She hardly noticed.

  “We don’t know their names,” she said.

  “We never did,” Forbes said.

  “What happened?”

  “They rode up on us while the hands were out,” Wendy said. “We offered them refreshments, which they took…and then they took more.” She turned her face away.

  “They killed Mr. Wilson, raped Wendy, and took some horses,” Forbes finished.

  “I’m sorry…What about the law?”

  “Local law ain’t worth much,” Forbes said. “I tracked them for a while, but lost them. I ain’t no bounty hunter. None of us are. We had to give up.”

  “So there’s nothin’ you can tell me about them?”

  “You want to know what they look like,” Wendy asked, “down there?”

  “Uh…no,” Thomas said. “No, I don’t.” He turned to Forbes, because looking at Wendy Williams made him uncomfortable. “I better catch up to the rest of my party.”

  “Sure,” Forbes said.

  “I’m not at all sure why you let me come here, Mr. Forbes.”

  “To tell you the truth, Deputy,” Forbes said, “neither am I.”

  Thomas turned to the woman again. “Ma’am, we’re gonna catch these men. I promise you that.”

  “My father’s dead,” she said. “Catching them won’t bring him back.”

  “But…for what they did to you…”

  She stood up abruptly and glared at him. “I’ll live, Deputy,” she said. “It was just sex, wasn’t it?”

&nb
sp; Before Thomas could answer, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving an awkward silence behind.

  “I, uh, guess I’ll be goin’.”

  Forbes nodded and walked him out. He had Thomas’s horse brought up to the front of the house.

  “I can let you have some men, if you like,” Forbes said. “Ranch hands, not gun hands.”

  “That’s all right,” Thomas said, mounting up. “I think we’ll be able to handle it.”

  Thomas rode off the Double W property with only a couple of answers to his questions. One, they knew why the two men had ridden into town on Double W horses, and two, he knew exactly what kind of men these were. Killers, yes—but worse. But all in all he hadn’t found out anything helpful, and the stop at the Double W ranch only served to put him behind James and the others. Coming here, he decided, had probably been a bad decision.

  But not the first, or last, he would ever make.

  Jacks looked up as Ben Cardwell came out of the telegraph office.

  “Okay,” Cardwell said. “The rest of them will be waitin’ when we get there.”

  “The rest of who?” Jacks asked.

  “Just some men I know, who I think we can trust to do this job with us.”

  “We can trust them?”

  “Yes.”

  “But can they trust us?”

  “Right up until we get all that money in our hot little hands,” Cardwell said. “Then all bets are off.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear,” Simon Jacks said. “Can we get out of Blue Mesa now? Stupid name for a town.”

  “Yeah,” Cardwell said, “stupid.”

  As they walked toward the livery, Jacks said, “Now Red Mesa, that’d be a good name for a town….”

  47

  “Two hours,” Ralph Cory said. “No more.” He pointed to one particular set of tracks. “These.” Then he pointed to the other, original two. “These are older. Yesterday.”

  “I agree,” Colon said.

  James was still mounted, twisted around in his saddle so he could look behind them.

  Cory and Colon stood and turned to face him.

  “Anything?” Cory asked.

  “I see some dust…I think.”

  “Berto?” Cory asked.

  Colon mounted his horse so he could take advantage of the same vantage point James had.

  “Anything?” Cory asked again.