Death in the Desert (9 page)

Clint found the horses. Five of them. They were in a stable in the rear of the stockyards. Five saddle mounts and five saddles. But there were also four other horses, and two buckboards. Not enough to carry away all of the loot the gang was collecting.

Once again he thought about the telegraph key. Had Steve sent a message before he disabled it? Were there more men and wagons on the way? And if so, how long would it take them to get there?

He quickly saddled one of the horses and walked it outside. He was going to have to be damn lucky to walk the horse to city hall without being seen. He made the walk with his hand on his gun, waiting for someone to shout, or start shooting. But it didn't happen.

When he got to city hall, he walked the horse right in, as he had done with Eclipse, put it in the same room with the big gelding. Then he went upstairs.

“Damn, my legs are asleep,” Chris complained, flexing his legs.

“I know just how you feel,” Ned said, sympathizing with the kid.

“Chris,” Steve said, “what did you tell Adams?”

“Whataya mean?” Chris asked. “I didn't tell him nothin'. Why would I?”

“Come on, kid,” Steve said. “We're talkin' about the Gunsmith here. You must've been scared to goddamned death. When he asked you some questions, you answered him. What did you tell him?”

“I just told him . . .” Chris started to say, but allowed his voice to trail off. He was obviously afraid to answer Steve's questions.

“How many of us there are?”

“Well, yeah . . .”

“And did you tell him I was sending for more men?” Steve asked.

“I said . . . yeah, well, that eventually you would be, ya know?”

“You tell him how many?”

“No, no . . . I don't know . . . I mean, I don't know how many you were gonna send for, do I?”

“No, you don't.”

“What else did you tell him?” Ned asked. “Did you tell him where our horses are?”

“Shit,” Billy said, “the horses.”

“All right,” Steve said, “okay, we're gonna go and check on the horses. If he didn't move 'em, we're gonna make 'em safe, and then we're gonna go out and find ourselves a Gunsmith.”

“What? We're gonna look for him?” Chris said.

“We're gonna look for him and kill him,” Steve said. “Ned, where'd you see that little girl?”

“A couple of times near this café on Main Street,” Ned said, “one time across from the Magnolia.”

“Okay,” Steve said, “we're gonna look for her, too. If we threaten her, maybe Adams will come out of hiding.”

“You think so?” Ned asked. “He's gonna come out and let us kill him, just to save some little girl he don't know?”

“That's what we're gonna find out,” Steve said.

“Boss, I'm sorry—” Chris said.

“Don't worry about it, kid.”

“You ain't gonna kill me?”

“No, I'm not gonna kill you,” Steve told him. “We need your gun. Come on, let's go.”

They left the hardware store and started back to the stockyards to check on their horses. He wouldn't kill the kid until this was all over.

“You mean leave now?” Kathy asked.

“Right now,” Clint said. “Let's go.”

“But . . . are you sure you won't come, too?”

“We went over this,” Clint said. “I can't leave until I'm sure I won't infect anybody. Now come on.”

He hurried them downstairs to where the horses were.

“Can't we take Eclipse?” Emily asked.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Clint said. “This is your horse.”

She made a face and folded her arms across her chest.

“Don't we need supplies?” Kathy asked.

“You're not riding far,” Clint said. “Just to the next town. When you get there, go and talk to the sheriff and tell him what's going on.”

“But . . . what town?”

“I passed the town of Givens about thirty miles back,” Clint said. “What's the next town going east?”

“I think it's . . . Flint.”

“Haw far?”

“I don't know,” she said. “Forty miles?”

“Then when the folks left town altogether, they probably went to Givens, right?”

“But you just said you rode through Givens on the way here.”

“You're right,” he said, shaking his head. What was he thinking? He'd been in Givens and hadn't heard anything about a mass exodus from Medicine Bow. That meant they probably went to Flint.

“Then you'll ride to Flint.”

“What if they see us?”

“We'll have to hope they don't,” he said. “Come on, we'll go out the back.”

“My horse is missing!” Chris exclaimed as they entered the livery.

“And Kenny's saddle,” Ned pointed out.

“Why would he need to take one horse?” Steve wondered aloud. “He'd have his own.”

“Maybe it's lame,” Billy said.

“Maybe he needs one for the little girl,” Ned suggested.

“A little girl can't ride on her own,” Steve said.

“So then his horse is lame,” Billy said.

“Or,” Steve said, “he needs it for somebody else.”

“Another person?” Chris asked. “So our odds are down.”

“Still two-to-one,” Ned said, “if that other person can even shoot.”

“Maybe they're gonna leave town,” Billy said. “Would that be so bad?”

“We can't let 'em leave town,” Steve said. “They might go to the law in the next town.”

“I thought you said what we were doin' wasn't illegal,” Chris said.

“I don't think it is,” Steve said, “but I don't want to have to argue the point with a lawman.”

Ned and Billy thought Chris was stupid if he didn't know what they were doing was illegal. Why else would they want to kill to keep it a secret?

“Okay,” Steve told them, “first we've got to move these horses.”

“What about my horse?” Chris asked.

“You can have Kenny's.”

“But my horse was better—”

“We'll get it back,” Steve said, “after we kill the Gunsmith. But for now we've got to make sure he doesn't get to these animals.”

“Why didn't he just take them while he was here?” Billy asked.

“Maybe he couldn't handle five horses,” Steve said. “He probably wanted to make some time.”

“He could have scattered them.”

“That would have attracted attention.”

They each grabbed a horse and their saddles—Chris taking Kenny's horse while grumbling about it—and walked them outside.

“Where we gonna take them?” Ned asked.

“We'll find a place,” Steve said. “But let's make it quick. We've got to stop him before he puts Chris's horse to use.”

“There's a few other stables,” Billy said.

“No stable,” Steve said. “Someplace he wouldn't think to look.”

They all thought a moment, and then Steve said, “I've got it. The jail is big enough.”

“The jail?” Chris asked.

“Why not? I don't think he'd look there. Come on. We can walk them so we don't attract too much attention.”

“What if he's watchin' us right now?” Chris asked.

“Then it won't make a difference.”

“Too bad none of us can track,” Ned said. “Or we'd be able to follow him to where he took the horse.”

“Forget it,” Steve said. None of them had that talent. “Let's just get these horses stashed away and then find him, or the little girl.”

They walked the horse out the back door, where Clint gave Kathy a boost up into the saddle. He then lifted Emily up to sit behind her.

“Forty miles,” Clint said. “This horse is fit. Should take you four or five hours if you ride straight through. If Emily can stand it.”

“Don't worry,” she said. “We'll make it, and send back help.”

“I want you to ride out the east end of town, and then circle around,” Clint said.

“Why not just ride west?”

“It's shorter this way,” Clint said. “Less chance of being seen.”

“All right.”

“Emily,” Clint said, “you hold on tight to Kathy, all right?”

“Yes, Clint.”

“And I'll see you soon.”

Emily wrapped her arms around Kathy and pressed her face to her back.

“Go!” Clint said.

As much as Clint Adams hated the word “coincidence,” it did rear its ugly head from time to time—usually at the wrong time.

Just as Kathy came out from an alley on horseback, with Emily behind her, Steve Harwick and his three men were walking down Main Street.

“What the hell—” Ned said.

“Who's that?” Billy said.

“Never mind who it is,” Steve said. “Stop her!”

They all drew their guns.

“Don't hit the little girl,” Steve said. “Just keep them from leaving town.”

“Right,” Ned said, and they all began firing.

Kathy heard the gunfire, and her heart leaped into her throat.

“Hold on, honey!” she said.

“They're shooting at us!” Emily screamed. Her grip on Kathy's waist tightened.

Kathy didn't know what to do, and the horse started to panic.

She froze.

Clint was inside city hall when he heard the shots.

“Damn it!” he swore.

He rushed to the front doors and swung them open. As he stepped out, he saw four men at one end of the street, carrying guns. At the other end, Kathy and Emily were on their horse. He was closer to them than he was to the four gunmen, so he made a snap decision.

He stepped out into the street, drew his gun, and shouted, “Kathy! Here!”

Kathy saw Clint, saw the open front doors of city hall, and knew what she had to do. She wheeled the horse around and kicked it with her heels.

Steve Harwick saw the man come out of city hall and step into the street.

“That's gotta be Adams,” he called out. “Get 'im!”

The four of them turned their attention—and their guns—toward him.

Clint laid down covering fire for Kathy as she rode the horse back toward him. Mostly he was making noise to scatter the four men. Kathy rode the horse right past him and into city hall. Clint then backed into the building and slammed the doors shut.

He turned and helped both Kathy and Emily down from the horse.

“Now what?” Kathy asked.

“Now get your rifle,” he said. “We have to keep those fellas out of here.”

Harwick and his men fired at Clint, but when the Gunsmith began to fire back, they scattered for cover. As soon as he backed into city hall and closed the door, they came out into the open again.

“Now we have him,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” Ned said, “but he's in that building. How do we get him out without getting killed?”

“Well,” Steve said, “we have several options that might work, before we try the one that definitely will work.”

“Which one is that?” Ned asked.

“Burning them out.”

“What do we do?” Kathy asked.

“First we have to barricade the back door,” Clint said. “Go to that window and keep an eye out. If they start to come close, fire at them. I'll be right back.”

“But—”

“It'll be all right,” he assured her. “They'll take some time deciding what to do.”

“Clint!” she called as he started away.

“What?”

“Can they get in by way of the roof?”

“This is the tallest building on this side of the street,” he said. “That's not an option. Watch that window.”

“Okay.”

Clint rushed to the back door, looked around for something to block it with. He tried a couple of rooms, found a piece of furniture he thought would do the trick. It was a small wooden bookcase that fit snugly in the hall. Once it was in front of the door, the door could not be opened.

He went back to the front hall. Emily was sitting on the stairs with her face in her hands, her elbows on her knees.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I wanted to go for a ride,” she said.

“I know you did,” he said, “and you will, it'll just be . . . later.”

He stopped, took a step back, and saw that there was a small space beneath the stairs.

“Emily?”

“Yes?”

“Come here, please.”

She came down the steps and stood in front of him.

“Were you scared when those men were shooting?” he asked.

She hesitated, then said, “Yes.”

“Well, they may start shooting again,” Clint explained. “I want you to get under here. If they start shooting again, you'll be safe. You won't have to be afraid.”

She stepped forward and looked under the steps.

“It'll be like a cave,” she said. “My own special cave.”

“That's right.”

She started to get under, then stopped and looked up at him.

“But I'll still be afraid that you or Kathy will get shot. Is that all right?”

“That's fine, honey,” he said. “That's just fine.”

She nodded and got under the steps.

“What do we do now?” Ned asked.

“Take Chris and go around back,” Steve said. “Find the back door, see if you can get in.”

“And if we can?”

“Fire two shots and go in. If you do that, we'll hit the front door.”

“And if the back door is locked?”

“Check the back thoroughly,” Steve said. “See if there's a window we can use to get in.”

“And if there is?”

“Come back here and tell me,” Steve said, “and then we'll make plans.”

“Okay,” Ned said. “Let's go, kid.”

As they crossed the street and moved up the alley next to city hall, Billy said, “What do we do?”

“I'm gonna wait here,” Steve said. “You go and get all of our rifles.”

“Okay.”

“Then we'll trying ventilatin' city hall a bit and see how the Gunsmith reacts to that.”

Billy turned and ran. Steve Harwick rubbed his jaw and studied the front of city hall.

“What do you see?” Clint asked Kathy.

“There's only one man out there,” she said. “The other three left.”

“How?”

“What?”

“How did they leave? Separately? Together?”

“Two of them left together, and the third one went off on his own.”

“He sent them off to do jobs,” Clint said.

“What jobs?”

“They're probably going to try the back door,” Clint said. “I'll go back there and check, make sure they don't come in a window. In fact, maybe I'll barricade the windows.”

“With what?”

“This building's got to be filled with furniture.”

“And what do I do?”

“Same as before,” Clint said. “Watch the street. If you see anything that makes you nervous, start shooting.”

“Do I shoot to . . . um . . .”

“You shoot to kill, Kathy,” Clint said. “If you give them the chance, they'll kill you.”

“A-All right.”

“Can you do that?”

“I'll do it,” she promised.

“I'll be as quick as I can,” he promised, and hoped that he would be quick enough.