Red River Revenge (Remington Book 1) (10 page)

BOOK: Red River Revenge (Remington Book 1)
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Chapter 12

R
emington
and his group spent the rest of the day in the saddle, except when they stopped to rest their horses and when they stopped for a quick snack. They stopped for the night just before they got to Nocona and slept out under the stars. Ned didn’t want to ride into the town after dark.

They arrived in the small town the following morning about nine o’clock. Nocona proved to be a town that was very hostile toward the U.S. marshals. It seemed like Peter Van Hook was a big man in this small pond. And when they talked to the local sheriff, Lafe Parsons, they discovered that Parson’s was in the rancher’s pocket, too.

At three o’clock in the afternoon, when Remington realized he wasn’t going to get any information about the location of Van Hook’s ranch, he decided to try the Shawnee Saloon. Surely there would be someone in there who could be bought for a cheap drink. Since he didn’t want Lina out of his sight, he took her with them. She was dressed like a man and nobody would notice her anyway.

Ned wasn’t surprised to find the saloon crowded that time of day. That was the kind of town Nocona was. Drunks and no-accounts all over the place. After checking the gloomy, smoke-filled room to see if Gaton and Haskins were there, he found an empty table in a corner, near the front. He pulled up an extra chair and after Killbuck, Lina and Frank Shaw were seated, Ned and Tom Beck strolled over to the long bar.

“What’ll you have?” the barkeep asked.

“A pitcher of beer and five glasses,” Ned said. He knew Lina wouldn’t drink, but it wouldn’t look right if she didn’t have her own glass. He took a dollar out of his pocket and slid it across the counter.

“We don’t serve Indians in here, Marshal,” the homely barkeep said. “It looks like you’ll only be needing three glasses.”

“Make it three, then,” Ned said.

The barkeep picked up the dollar. “If you’ll ask your two friends to leave, I’ll be happy to serve you, sir.”

“We’ve come a long way, my friend,” Ned said as he pulled another dollar from his pocket and set it on the counter. “My two friends just want to rest a spell. If you’ll let them stay, we’ll have just one quick drink and then be gone.”

“One short drink,” the barkeep said as he picked the second dollar up with his thumb and forefinger. He turned and took three smudgy glasses off a shelf, dipped each in a keg beneath the shelf and slid the three half-full glasses across the counter._

“Thank you,” Ned said. “Can you tell me where I can find Peter Van Hook’s ranch?”

“Two dollars ain’t gonna buy you that kind of information,” the barkeep said smugly.

“How much will it take?” Beck asked.

“I don’t lightly know where he lives, so keep your money.”

Ned knew the man was lying in his teeth, and he also knew that it wouldn’t do any good to push it.

“Thanks anyway,” he said. He picked up two of the glasses and left the third one for Tom to carry back to the table. Without sitting down, Ned took a small sip out of his glass, then set it on the table. He walked over to another table where two obviously- drunk men were sitting. “Pardon me, sir, can you tell me where Peter Van Hook lives?” he asked politely of the older man.

“He ain’t gonna tell you, so leave him alone,” the younger man said in a slurred voice.

“Why don’t you let him speak for himself,” Ned said.

“’Cause he’s too drunk.”

“His ranch is hidden in the woods,” said the older man.

“Shut up, Curt,” said the other.

“Where-abouts in the woods?” Ned persisted.

“A mile down the road, and a half a mile to the right,” the older man slurred before his friend could shut him up.

“Shut up, Curt,” his companion said again as he clenched his fist.

“My friend here works for him. Danny can show you the way.”

“You fool,” Danny shouted to the older drunk.

“Thanks, Mister,” Ned said politely. He turned away.

“I told you to leave him alone,” shouted the younger drunk. He shoved his chair back and it tipped over in a loud crash.

Ned glanced around just in time to be punched in the mouth. He wiped the corner of his mouth and glared at his attacker. He had the information he needed and he wanted to get out of there.

Beck wasn’t seated yet and he stepped over to make sure Ned was all right. Killbuck jumped up just as the man named Danny struck out at Beck. Tom stuck his arm up to ward off the blow and a fellow at a nearby table leaped up and slugged Beck a good chop under the chin. Killbuck picked up a glass of beer and threw the contents in the man’s face.

Within a minute a slug-fest broke out in the whole saloon and customers were hitting each other for no reason other than to fight.

Lina jumped up from her seat and tried to get out of the way. Danny took another swing at Remington. Ned ducked and Danny hit Lina’s hat instead.

Lina screamed just as her hat fell off. Her long hair tumbled down past her shoulders.

“He’s a girl!” a rough-looking drunk shouted as the fighting continued.

Danny, the lad who worked for Van Hook, stepped up to Lina and ripped the front of her shirt, popping all of her buttons. Her bare breasts were exposed and she quickly drew the torn blouse back around her. The fighting got wilder, with chairs being broken across heads. Lina used the opportunity to grab her hat and ease toward the batwing doors. She stopped, faced the wall, and tucked her hair back under her hat, then quickly held her blouse together again.

Danny started after her, but Ned punched him in the stomach and when the drunken lad doubled over, Ned brought his fist up hard into the fellow’s chin.

Danny stumbled backwards, tripped over a broken chair and crashed to the floor.

“Let’s go,” Ned whispered to the others. He grabbed up Lina’s hand and dragged her outside. Nobody seemed to notice that Remington and his friends were leaving. They were all too busy fighting.

“Well, you got the information you needed,” said Beck when they were outside, “but that’s the hard way to get it.” He rubbed a sore chin.

“I’m sorry, Lina, if you were embarrassed,” Ned said.

“I’m just glad no one was hurt,” she said.

Ned glanced at the batwing doors of the noisy saloon. “Let’s get away from here before Danny picks himself up off the floor and comes after us.”

Although Ned was tempted to run, the group of five walked down the street at a normal pace so they wouldn’t draw attention. They went to the livery, a block away and around the corner, where they had paid a friendly old man three dollars to watch their horses and their belongings.

“You deputies come back at just the right time,” the old man said with a toothless grin. He sat in a hard rocking chair near the door. His loaded rifle was propped against the wall near him. “My wife just done called me for supper.”

“Well, good.” Ned was relieved when he glanced at the horses and saw that all of their rifles and saddlebags were still in their places. “Thanks for taking such good care of our animals.”

“I watered ’em and grained ’em, just like I promised to.”

“Thank you,” said Tom Beck.

“I still say three dollars is more’n I’m worth.”

“You earned it, Gramps,” said Shaw.

“I wantcha all to know that if you hadn’t came back just now, I would’a stayed right here,” the fellow assured them.

“I know you would have, old-timer,” Ned smiled.

“I’da made Sophie bring my supper right on out here,” the fellow chuckled. “I ain’t so old but what I can eat and watch horses at the same time.”

Ned laughed. “Well, you’d better toddle off before your supper gets cold.”

“You sure you won’t be needin’ me no more?”

“Not right now,” Ned said. “We just came for our horses.”

The old-timer’s knees creaked when he stood up. “You young pups be careful,” he said as he hobbled toward the door. “Like I told ya, this town’s full of wicked people. Used’ta be a feller felt safe in his own home. Not anymore. I don’t know what’s happening to this new generation,” he said as he went on out the door.

Ned could hear Gramps mumbling to himself right up to the time the old man went into his own house and closed the door. “What a character.” Ned shook his head and walked over to his horse.

“Gramps couldn’t have done much to protect our gear if it came to that,” Shaw said.

“No, but he was the only friendly face in town.”

Lina opened her saddlebag and took out the wrinkled dark brown shirt she’d been wearing when they started out from Tishomingo two days ago.

“If you gentlemen will turn your backs, I’ll change my shirt before we leave,” she said.

The four men walked over to the open door.

“Are we going out to Van Hook’s now?” Beck asked.

“Yes,” Ned said. “And I hope Gaton and Haskins are out there, too, so we can round them all up and get the hell out of here.”

“I’m through,” Lina called.

The men went back to their horses. Ned walked on over to the girl.

“Lina, we’re going to Van Hook’s ranch, but I don’t want you to go.”

“Why not?” she said.

“Too many people know you’re a girl and if Van Hook finds out, it won’t take him any time at all to figure out who you are. We can’t risk it now.”

“But how would he find out?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me any if that fellow Danny beat us out there. And Van Hook owns most of the people in town. Somebody’ll tell him.”

Charlie Killbuck walked over and stood next to his niece.

“I guess you’re right,” Lina said.

“Yes, he is,” Killbuck said.

“Do you want me to wait for you here?” Lina asked Ned.

“No. Charlie, I want you to take Lina over to the Nocona Hotel while my deputies and I ride out to arrest Van Horn. Don’t leave her alone for a minute.”

“I will watch over her,” Charlie promised. “I will get a room on the second floor, if I can. It will be safer.”

“Maybe you should leave your horses here and take only your weapons,” Ned suggested.

“Yes,” said Killbuck. “We can walk along behind the buildings and no one will see us.”

“Good.”

Lina stood up on tiptoes and kissed Ned on the cheek. “Be careful, Ned,” she said.

For a brief moment, Ned thought about Katy and how she used to stand on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She always used to laugh and tell him he was too tall. And the sickening feeling came to his stomach when he remembered that it had been three long years since she’d kissed him that way.

“You, too, Lina,” he said. “You be careful.”

Ned mounted his horse. Already he could feel the knot of tension at the back of his head. He had no idea what he and his men would be facing when they got to Van Hook’s ranch, but he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. A feeling of apprehension and uncertainty settled over him as he rode out of the stable.

Shaw and Beck were right behind him and he checked his surroundings, as he always did. He rode the few feet to the main street of town and looked both ways. He turned south.

“I hope we’re going in the right direction,” he said.

“The fellow at the saloon said a mile down the road and a half a mile to the right,” Tom Beck said.

“I know. ‘Down the road’ means south to me. I wonder if it means the same thing to him.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Shaw said. “If we’re wrong, we come back and start again.”

Ned chuckled, but he didn’t feel the least bit jovial. Inside, it felt like furry caterpillars were crawling all over his nerves. He wasn’t afraid of danger. It was just the not knowing.

“Well, gentlemen,” he said, “this may be the showdown we’ve been waiting for.”

Chapter 13

N
ed Remington had
no trouble at all following the drunk’s directions. He and his men rode south on the road from Nocona, about a mile, he figured, until they came to a side road. They turned right and it wasn’t long until they saw the woods. The path that had been cleared through the woods was narrow and the deputies rode single file.

“Are you going to just ride right in there and arrest Van Hook?” Frank Shaw asked.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Ned answered. “I see no need to sneak up on him. He knows we’re coming”

When the three deputies emerged from the woods, a vast expanse of land stretched out in front of them. A huge ranch house sat in the middle of the estate, some fifty yards away, and Ned spotted the four men in the front yard right away.

As Remington had expected, Van Hook’s henchmen were waiting for them. The fellows looked like cowhands and Ned was surprised that there were only four of them. He had expected more. Still, Van Hook would not be easy to take. He didn’t see Van Hook and figured he was inside the house.

Ned didn’t stop, nor did he ride in fast. He kept his horse at a. slow, even pace as he rode toward the house. Behind him, Shaw and Beck now rode two abreast, flanking him. Sitting tall and straight on their mounts, they looked like a small army marching proudly to war.

As they rode forward, Remington took in as much as he could with his eyes. The large, elegant ranch house sprawled all over the place. It was two stories high and looked out of place in this desolate part of the country. It was a house that belonged in the fanciest section of a big city. Remington had no doubts that the ranch house had been paid for by Van Hook’s illegal schemes.

Ned scanned the dozens of windows at the front of the house, searching for some sign of Peter Van Hook. The curtains at every window were drawn tight.

The grass seemed to go on forever. It was tall and lush, much like the grass in the pastures of the Cherokee village in Tishomingo. There were a few trees in the yard, but no flowers or shrubs or walkways to make the place pretty. It was obvious that Peter Van Hook had no interest in esthetics. He was more interested in what money could buy him.

There were several outbuildings and way off to the left, were hundreds of heads of cattle, confined by a pole fence. The smell of their droppings was strong in the air. Remington wondered if some of those cattle belonged to Woody Miller. He wished he could check them out, but he had the evidence he needed in his pocket. Regardless, he was sure that all of the cattle had been rustled.

The four cowhands who had been standing together near the porch when Ned had first seen them, had now wandered out into the yard. They stood a few feet apart, hands hovering over holstered pistols.

Ned held the reins loosely in his left hand. His other hand rested on his upper thigh, near his own holstered pistol.

Nobody spoke. The two groups of opposing men just stared at each other and waited for the other to make the first move.

Remington could feel the tension build as he and his men rode closer to the ranch house, closer to the cowhands who were waiting to kill them. He expected them to start shooting at any minute and wondered why they hadn’t already.

The front door opened and Peter Van Hook stepped out on the porch. Remington knew it was Van Hook from Mike Madonna’s description. Neatly dressed in fancy clothes, a business suit and polished boots, nice enough looking, the fringes of neat blond hair that stuck out beneath the white hat. Ned wasn’t quite close enough to see the rancher’s blue eyes, but he knew they would be cold and hard and vacant, like Madonna had said.

“Are you Peter Van Hook?” Remington asked in a loud voice.

“Yes I am,” Van Hook answered in an equally loud voice.

“I’m Ned Remington, United States Chief Deputy Marshal,” Ned said. “I have a warrant for your arrest, Mr. Van Hook.”

“For what?” Van Hook answered.

“For receiving stolen goods,” Remington called.

“Open fire, men,” Van Hook told his cowhands. “Shoot to kill.”

The marshals fanned out as the cowhands snatched their pistols out of smooth holsters.

Ned whipped out his pistol and fired at the bewhiskered cowhand who was aiming at him. He shot low, just a brief instant before the other man fired. Ned’s bullet slammed into the cowhand’s kneecap.

The anticipation of getting hit was enough to throw the cowhand’s aim off at the last minute. His shot was high and the bullet zinged over Ned’s head. The cowhand screamed out in pain. He dropped to the ground and clutched his leg.

Remington swung on another man as Frank Shaw fired a round. Frank’s shot was right on the mark. The tall cowhand he fired at staggered backwards then crumpled to the ground, his heart exploded.

Two more shots were fired almost simultaneously and their echoes reverberated through the air.

Ned squeezed the trigger and dropped the barrel-chested cowhand who had run up behind Frank’s horse and was just about to fire at the back of Frank’s head. Ned’s shot crashed through the man’s leg and shattered bone.

Tom Beck had missed his first shot. The second one plowed straight through the heart of the only cowhand still standing. The man would die soon, but not as quickly as the one Shaw had killed.

Suddenly the fight was over, with two of the cowhands dead, the other two badly wounded. The acrid stench of gunpowder would last a lot longer.

Ned turned his horse toward the porch and trained his pistol on Van Hook. The rancher eased his hand toward his holster.

“Don’t even think about it, Van Hook, or you’ll have three bullets in your head instead of just one,” Ned warned him.

Frank and Tom rode up from behind and positioned themselves on either side of Remington, their weapons aimed at the wealthy rancher.

“You’re under arrest, Van Hook!’ Ned repeated. “I have the warrant right here in my pocket.” He tapped his hide jacket.

Ned eased down from his saddle and got a pair of handcuffs out of his saddlebags. He walked toward the porch, his pistol still aimed at the rancher.

Shaw and Beck dismounted and followed Ned to the porch.

“You’ll never get me to court,” Van Hook bragged as the three deputies walked up the steps. “I’ve got too many friends.”

“When you get through in Judge Barnstall’s courtroom, you’ll wish we had killed you on the spot,” Remington told him.

Ned holstered his own weapon, then reached over and slid Van Hook’s pistol out of its holster. He tucked it into his belt. With Frank Shaw’s help, Ned handcuffed Van Hook’s hands behind his back. Shaw patted the rancher down to make sure he didn’t have any concealed weapons,

“Where are Paco Gaton and Norville Haskins?” Remington demanded.

“I don’t know,” Van Hook said.

“We’ll find them,” Remington said.

“I’m sure you will,” Van Hook said sarcastically.

It was then that Ned saw how dark and cold and vacant Van Hook’s blue eyes were.

After they got Van Hook’s horse from the stable, the three deputies and their prisoner rode back to Nocona. It was late m the afternoon and the sun would be gone in another half hour. As they neared the Nocona Hotel, Ned wondered which room Killbuck and Lina were staying in. He glanced up the windows.

Too late, Remington saw the movement on the roof of the hotel. A shot rang out and an instant later, Frank Shaw gasped, then moaned in agony.

“Dammit,” Ned said as he glanced over at his friend. He drew his pistol and aimed it up at the roof. Beck drew, too, but kept his eyes on their prisoner in case he tried to escape during the commotion. Ned scanned the roof line, but there was no one up there, at least not that he could see.

“Where’d you take the bullet?” he asked Shaw as he rode around to Frank’s side. He saw the stain of crimson spread across Frank’s upper sleeve.

“In the arm,” Frank said as he clutched his arm beneath the wound and held it close to his body in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

“How bad is it?”

“I don’t know,” Shaw said. “It feels numb right now.”

“Let’s get you inside the hotel where we can take a look,” Ned said. He looked up at the roofline again. Something caught his attention. Movement at one of the windows.

Ned was shocked, when he saw the two men who had suddenly appeared in one of the upstairs windows. One of the men was Charlie Killbuck. The other man was a Mexican and Ned knew right away that it was Paco Gaton. Paco had a gun to Charlie’s head.

“They got Charlie,” he said as he drew his pistol. He wondered if Lina was up there, too.

Beck had noticed the movement, too, and was already looking up at the window, his pistol in hand.

“Then the fellow on the roof must be Haskins,” Beck said.

“Release Van Hook and I’ll let your friend go,” Paco shouted from the open window.

“We can’t do that, Gaton,” Remington called back. “You let Charlie go. I’ve got a warrant for your arrest.”

“I ain’t interested,” Paco shouted. “You let Van Hook go or I’ll shoot your friend in the head.”

A crowd began to gather on the street, but they kept their distance. Ned didn’t like it. Peter Van Hook had too many friends in this damned town.

Remington wished he could get a clean shot at the Mexican, but he couldn’t risk hitting Charlie. “We won’t let Van Hook go, Gaton,” he shouted. “We’re taking him in.”

A shot cracked the air.

Remington watched with horror. He was sick when he realized that Paco had actually shot Charlie Killbuck in the temple.

“The dirty sonofabitch!” Tom Beck said.

“My God,” Frank Shaw muttered. “Poor Charlie.” He still held his arm tightly.

“You bastard!” Ned shouted.

Charlie slumped forward onto the windowsill, the side of his head blown away. Paco shoved the body on out the window. The Cherokee’s body fell two stories and slammed to the hard ground with a loud thunk. The body landed ten feet away from Ned.

Both Beck and Remington fired at the window, but Paco ducked out of sight.

“Tom, I’m going up there,” Ned said. “I think Lina’s up there.” He started to dismount.

“Too late,” Beck said as he stared up at the open window.

Ned glanced up and saw Lina in the window with Gaton. The Mexican shoved the pistol against her temple.

“Let Van Hook go,” Paco demanded. “Release him right now or your lady friend will end up the same way her poor uncle did.”

“The bastard,” Remington mumbled. He couldn’t let Lina down the way he had Charlie. “All right, Gaton,” he called up. “We’ll let Van Hook go if you release Lina.”

“Then do it now,” Paco shouted.

“Let the girl go,” Remington demanded. He and Beck dismounted so they could untie their prisoner. “After Van Hook is free,” Paco said.

Ned and Tom quickly unfastened the thongs that bound the rancher. “We’ll get you later, Van Hook,” Ned said. “You’re going to be punished for your part in this cattle rustling operation.”

Peter Van Hook didn’t answer. He just took the reins in his hands and rode away.

“Van Hook is free,” Remington called. “Let Lina go now.” He glanced up at the window and saw that Lina and Paco Gaton were not there. “Dammit, I’m going up there and get Lina,” he told Beck. “Can you get Frank inside the hotel?”

“Yes, but you be damned careful, Ned. Paco might be waiting for you.”

“I will.” Remington ran inside the hotel and dashed up the stairs. He figured out which room Lina would be in and didn’t bother to knock when he got there. He tried the door handle and found it wasn’t locked. With his pistol drawn, he shoved the door wide open and then hesitated as he peered into the room.

He didn’t hear any sounds from within the room, but he knew it was the right one. Straight ahead of him was the open window and the blood-stained windowsill.

His breath caught in his throat as he cautiously stepped into the small room and looked in both directions. He checked under the bed and even looked behind the straight-back chair.

Lina Miller wasn’t there and neither was Paco Gaton. .

“That dirty bastard,” Ned said out loud.

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