From Hide and Horn (A Floating Outfit Book Number 5) (24 page)

‘
My face!’ Barbe screamed, going to her
knees. Through the tears of pain which misted her vision, she saw
Dawn approaching. ‘No! No! Don’t hit me again!’

Slowly a feeling of revulsion filled the
blonde, bringing her to a halt. Yet she wanted to give Barbe a
warning to prevent a further recurrence of the flirting which had
caused Vern and Willock’s deaths.

‘
All right!’ Dawn said, breathing hard
and standing over the crouching girl. ‘What the hell kind of game
are you playing at?’

‘
Do-don’t hit me again!’
Barbe whined. ‘Don’t hit me and
I’ll tell you everyth—’

The flat crack of a
light-calib
er
revolver chopped off her words. Struck in the head by a bullet,
Barbe pitched sideways. Exhausted by the fight, Dawn reacted
sluggishly. For a moment she stood and stared with unbelieving eyes
at the other girl’s spasmodically jerking body. A soft thud nearby
brought Dawn’s head around and she saw her Cooper revolver lying on
the sand, smoke curling from its muzzle. Faintly she heard shouts
and the sound of running feet coming her way. Without thinking, she
bent over and picked up the revolver.

Still too dazed to
realiz
e fully
what she was doing, Dawn turned with the smoking Cooper in her
hand. She stood holding the gun, looking in exhausted
incomprehension at Barbe’s body when the first of the men from the
camp burst into the clearing. Everything seemed to be whirling
around before Dawn’s eyes. Then as her legs buckled under her, she
heard a voice from what seemed a long way off.

‘
My God! She’s murdered my
sister!’

Attracted by the sound of the shot, Dusty Fog
led the rush of men to investigate its cause. Bursting through the
bushes, he came to a halt and stared at the scene that met his
eyes. Behind him, the trail hands also stopped and were shocked to
silence by what they saw. Dusty knew the shock would not last. Even
before de Martin came shoving through the rear of the party, the
small Texan knew he faced a delicate and dangerous situation.
Angry, startled comments rose from the other men as the
photographer made his accusation. Even as Dawn collapsed alongside
Barbe, Dusty swung around.

‘
Back off, all of you!’ Dusty ordered
and his eyes went to the big shape of the cook. ‘Rowdy, see if
there’s anything you can do.’

Coming prepared to deal with any
kind of trouble—although not of the type they found on arrival—all
the trail hands held guns. So did Dusty. Yet it was
no
t the
threat of the long-barreled Army Colt in his left hand that caused
the men to obey. At such a time they needed a leader to guide them
and Dusty was that man.

Although the majority of the group obeyed, de
Martin ran towards his sister and Josh Narth went to Dawn. Dusty
raised no objections, knowing they showed a natural and
understandable concern for the girls’ welfare. Holstering his Colt,
Dusty watched the men do the same. Shock, horror, disbelief and
lack of comprehension showed on the tanned faces that Dusty had
come to know so well. Staring fixedly at where Rowdy bent over
Barbe, Jacko muttered under his breath.

The cook’s examination of the
black-haired girl did not take long. Looking at de Martin, Rowdy
said gently,
‘There’s nothing I can do for her.’

‘
Lord!’ the photographer moaned. ‘Why
did it happen? Why? Why?’ Then he flung himself to his sister’s
side and started to sob with his head buried against her naked
bosom.

‘
Dawn’
s just swooned,’ Rowdy said after looking at the slim girl.
‘We’d best have her took back to camp, Cap’n Dusty.’

‘
When I’ve looked around,’ Dusty
replied. ‘Do what you can for her here.’

‘
What the hell started
them fighting, Dusty?’ Mark asked, moving to his
amigo’s
side.

‘
That’s what we’re going
to have to find out,’ Dusty replied.
‘It looks straight-forward enough,
but—’

‘
Yeah?’ Mark prompted.

Before Dusty could reply, de Martin looked
up. Grief twisted at his face and his eyes were red with tears.
Slowly he raised a hand to point at where Narth had propped Dawn in
a sitting position against his knee.

‘
What are you going to do about her,
Dusty?’

‘
How do you mean?’ Dusty asked, turning
from the men as they holstered their revolvers.

‘
She murdered my
sister
—’

‘
Mister!’ Narth growled.
‘I’m taking it that grieving’s what
made you say that—’

‘
It’s true!’ de Martin answered. ‘Look
at the signs. She must have attacked poor Barbe, beat her and then
shot her!’

‘
Why
you
—!’
Narth began and started to rise but was prevented from doing so by
Rowdy catching his right shoulder in a paralyzing grip and holding
him down.

An angry growl rose from the trail hands and
Jacko moved forward, right hand grabbing at his revolver. Instantly
Mark brought out his off side Colt, throwing down on the cowhand
long before Jacko’s gun cleared leather.

‘
Back off, friend,’ the blond giant
advised. ‘All you can do is make things a damned sight
worse.’

‘
You would have tried Burle Willock for
shooting her brother!’ de Martin went on in a loud voice. ‘Is she
to be treated differently?’

‘
No!’ Dusty stated firmly. ‘She’s
not!’

‘
Damn it, Cap’n Fog!’
Narth yelled, struggling futilely
against the numbing pressure of the
cook’s powerful fingers. ‘You’re not—’

‘
I am!’ Dusty insisted and looked over
his shoulder. ‘All of you’d best go back to camp. There’s nothing
you can do here.’

‘
Come on, boys!’ Mark said, dropping
his Colt back into leather. ‘Do what Dusty wants. It’ll be for the
best.’

‘
Yeah!’ agreed old Boiler Benson.
‘There’s nothing we can do here.’

Turning, talking quietly among themselves,
the men walked away. Last to go was Jacko. For a moment he stood
staring at Barbe’s body. Then, with a strangled gasp, he swung on
his heel and stumbled dazedly after his departing companions.

‘
Josh. Help Rowdy take Dawn back to
camp,’ Dusty went on, watching the cowhand go. ‘She’s to be kept in
the bed-wagon until I get back.’

‘
Damn it, Cap’n!’ Narth
blazed. ‘If you reckon I’m going to
stand by and see her
hung—’

‘
Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,’
Dusty interrupted quietly. ‘But she has to stand trial, Josh. Uncle
Charlie may be away with the Kid, but I’ll do everything that he
would.’

‘
And Colonel Charlie’d do just what
Cap’n Dusty’s doing,’ the cook pointed out, sharing the small
Texan’s unspoken wish that Goodnight had not ridden out with the
Kid to scout the land ahead ready for continuing the drive in the
morning. He lifted the girl in his arms. ‘Come on. You can stay
with her.’

‘
Don’t try
anything
loco
like trying to run out with her, Josh,’ Dusty warned. ‘All
that’ll do is make things even worse.’

‘
I’ll mind it,’ Narth answered quietly
and followed Rowdy across the clearing.

‘
Stay with your sister,
Edmond,’
Dusty told the photographer gently. ‘There’s not much a man
can say at a time like this. I’m real sorry—’

‘
Thank you, Dusty,’ de Martin replied
without raising his head. ‘Dawn must have hated poor little Barbe
to do this.’

‘
Maybe,’ Dusty replied. ‘I’ll know more
about it after I’ve talked to her.’

‘
Then you don’t mean to try
her?’

‘
Yes I do,’ Dusty
corrected, picking up the girl’s revolver
and looking at how
the gunbelt hung over the bush. ‘Maybe you’d best come with
me—’

‘
And leave her?’ de Martin moaned,
indicating the body.

‘
It’d
be for the best.
I’ll have her brought in.’

Taking the photographer by the
arm, Dusty helped him rise. For a moment de Martin seemed ready to
resist. Then he let out a croaking sob and walked away. Dusty was
about to follow. Looking down, he decided to cover the body’s naked
bust and bent to do so. Something caught his eye and he looked
closer at the body, studying one of the injuries with extra care.
Removing his calfskin vest, Dusty draped it across the naked torso.
With that done, he followed and caught up to de
Martin. Together they made their
way back to the camp.

The change in the atmosphere struck Dusty
immediately on his arrival. Up to the sound of the shot disturbing
them, the crew had been a happy, contented whole. Now tension
twanged the air like a snapped bowstring as the trail hands formed
groups who sat or stood conversing in low tones. Surrounded by
Willock’s cronies and others of the Mineral Wells men, Jacko
scowled at the bed-wagon with savage concentration. Leaving Dusty,
de Martin went slowly in the direction of his wagon. Coming to his
feet, Jacko walked over to the photographer’s side.

‘
Mark!’ Dusty said as the big blond
approached him. ‘I want you to go out to the clearing and stay
there.’

‘
Sure.’

‘
Take
Pick Visscher with you. Both of you stay there until I send
somebody to relieve you. You’re to let nobody—and I mean
nobody
—touch
anything
out there.’

‘
Yo! I’ll take out a tarp and cover the
body.’

‘
Sure. But don’t move or touch
anything.’

‘
It’s done,’ Mark promised and went to
the Mineral Wells men. They showed some surprise at his words, but
the stocky Lazy F cowhand rose without argument and accompanied
him.

Walking across to the bed-wagon, Dusty felt
the uneasy stirrings that warned him of danger. Once again the
trail crew faced a split in its membership, for some of the men
would be sure to back up Josh Narth in Dawn’s defense. Others,
especially Jacko’s bunch would remember Willock and be equally
insistent that Dawn should face trial. Dusty cursed. In addition to
Goodnight and the Kid being away, Ahlen was riding the herd with
Sherman, Red and Billy Jack. That deprived him, as had sending Mark
to guard the clearing, of possible steadying influences and of men
on whom he could rely.

On entering the wagon, Dusty found Dawn
recovered sufficiently to be able to talk. Sitting on her bed, she
dropped a cloth into a bowl of water and turned her half-washed,
frightened face in the small Texan’s direction.

‘
D-Dusty!’ Dawn gasped. ‘I didn’t kill
her.’

‘
Best tell me what happened then,’
Dusty replied. ‘All of it from why you went at each other
on.’

After listening to the girl’s
story, from her decision to deliver de Martin’s message instead of
allowing Jacko to do so
up to Barbe’s death, Dusty stood up.

Narth looked at the small Texan in a
challenging manner and asked, ‘You believe her, don’t you,
Cap’n?’

‘
Can you be ready to face a hearing in
half an hour, Dawn?’ Dusty said, ignoring the question.

‘
Damn
it
—’
Narth started to growl.

‘
We’re only a week at most to Fort
Sumner, Cap’n Dusty,’ Rowdy put in. ‘Can’t it wait until we get
there and let the legal law handle it?’

‘
Some of the crew wouldn’t hold for
waiting,’ Dusty warned.

‘
We could hold them!’ Narth stated
grimly.

‘
Not
withou
t gunplay,’ Dusty pointed out. ‘This drive’s too important
to ruin when there’s a way out.’

‘
Nothing’s important enough for you to
hang Dawn!’ Narth spat back.

‘
Josh!’ Dawn put in quietly. ‘I told
the truth about what happened and I’m ready to face up to whatever
comes. I know Dusty’ll do the right thing.’

‘
You can count on it,’ Dusty assured
her. ‘Now stay in the wagon. Get cleaned up and changed. I’ll send
for you when I’m ready.’

Swinging himself to the ground, Dusty looked
around the camp. He saw Jacko and the Mineral Wells men gathered
around de Martin and walked their way. Glares varying from
quizzical or challenging to frankly hostile on Jacko’s part, met
the small Texan.

‘
Dawn told her
story
—’ Dusty began.

‘
Which you have accepted as true!’ de
Martin interrupted.

‘
Which I listened to,’
Dusty corrected. ‘She reckoned that
she heard you asking Jacko here to go
fetch your sister back to camp—’

‘
I
did. I wanted Barbe
to help me take some photographs.’

‘
Only Dawn allowed that you shouldn’t
ought to be sending a feller to fetch her when she might still be
undressed.’