To Reap and to Sow (16 page)

Clint felt as if he'd only just fallen onto his bed in Wes's house when the door creaked open and the farmer stuck his head inside.

“That you, Clint?” Wes asked.

Straining to sit up, Clint replied, “More or less.”

“I heard the bank in town was robbed.”

“You heard right.”

“See why I didn't trust that place?”

“Yeah, Wes. You made the right call on that one.”

“You still want to sleep?”

Clint filled his lungs with cool morning air and wondered if his answer would actually make a difference in what came next. “It'd be nice.”

After a pause, Wes nodded. “I'm making breakfast, so I'll let you rest until it's done.”

“Don't bother,” Clint said as he swung his feet over the side of the bed. “I'm awake now. Are the others waiting for me?”

“Nope. Tina and Lynn are already working.”

Considering how tired he was and what he'd done to get that way, Clint could only imagine how Tina was feeling. When he did imagine it, he couldn't help but grin. “What are they working on?” he asked as he walked down the short hallway to the modest kitchen.

Wes was already standing at the stove and tending to some bacon frying in a skillet. “They're helping me hide the gold.”

“They know about it?”

Wes shook his head. “Nope. Far as they know, they're just fixing up the mess I left in that pumpkin patch. Tina was always after me to plant some cucumbers, so now's as good a time as any. It shouldn't be long before that ground looks good as new and nobody'll suspect there's much of anything there besides some seeds.”

“What about the rest of what we talked about?”

“You mean turning my farm into a damned fort?” Wes asked.

Clint helped himself to some coffee and lifted the hot brew to his mouth. “That's not exactly what we talked about, but we're thinking alike.”

“You want me to prepare this home to fight off some kind of attack,” Wes grunted. “Sounds like a fort to me.”

The coffee was just good enough to stay down when Clint drank it and just strong enough to shake the remaining tiredness from his bones. “The two men who came by the last time have joined up with some dangerous men. Real killers, as a matter of fact.”

Wes looked up from the skillet and asked, “Like them bank robbers?”

Clint nodded. “Those are the ones. You get pretty good news up here on this farm.”

“The whole damn town and everyone else within ten miles heard about that bank robbery. Since Thickett don't normally see them kind of men, it ain't much to figure out. So Mark had a hand in robbing the bank and killing the locals?”

“Mark shot one of them, but I don't think he was there to rob the bank.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I crossed paths with the robbers on our way into town,” Clint replied. “Mark was with them, but he looked like he was being dragged along. Besides, I've seen enough of Mark and his goal to know they don't have what it takes to rob a bank. A candy store, maybe, but not a bank.”

The old farmer laughed as he divided up the bacon onto plates that were already holding a healthy serving of eggs. “From what Lynn told me about them, I'd say you were right. Mark always struts around like a bad man, but don't do nothin' more than talk to back it up. Talk and slap around a woman, that is. I hope the asshole gets what's coming to him.”

“Don't worry about that,” Clint said as he picked up a plate and walked over to the table. “They always get what's coming to them.”

Clint and Wes had talked a bit about what could be done to defend his farm in case anyone came back to try and claim the gold for themselves. At the time, Clint had been thinking more along the lines of getting the farmer ready to fight sometime after Clint had moved on. Now, however, it seemed they might be getting visitors a lot sooner.

The first thing on Clint's agenda had been to move the gold. That was done.

The second thing was for Wes to be able to get his daughter and Lynn to safety if they happened to be there when something happened. Since Tina had grown up on the farm and Lynn had spent a good amount of time there as a child, both of them knew plenty of places in which to hide.

Of course, getting either of the two strong-willed women to hide was going to be another task in itself.

The final of Clint's suggestions had been to try and get Wes prepared to convince armed men to leave his property when they were looking for gold. Although the farmer was more than willing to fight for his land and family, Clint was hoping to make sure Wes lived through the fight. That would involve a bit more strategy.

“Did you place those guns where I told you?” Clint asked as he walked between the barn and the stable.

Wes walked alongside him with his hands stuffed deeply into his pockets. “I don't got more'n a few old rifles and a shotgun.”

“That's all you need. Did you place them where I told you?” Sensing the hackles on the old man's neck rising, Clint rephrased that: “Did you place them where I asked?”

“Yeah, but I don't have much by way of ammunition.”

“That would have been good to know before Tina and I went into town.”

“Well, pardon the hell out of me! Maybe I was a bit more concerned with a strange man riding off with my daughter.”

Clint looked over to Wes and asked, “You didn't save one of those shotguns for me, did you?”

The old farmer cracked half a smile and shrugged. “Tina's old enough to do what she pleases. Hell, she's had a mind to do whatever she wants since she was a child.”

Having already trod this ground, Clint let the old man simmer down before continuing the conversation. He did, however, manage to steer Wes away from the stable.

“I didn't see much,” Clint said. “But I do know that Mark and his friend were with the gunmen who were riding out of town.”

“Tina told me you were on the posse to go after those fellas.”

“Sure, but that didn't turn out too good. I was lucky to keep some of the posse from getting themselves killed. Normally, I'd track the gunmen down myself.”

“And why not this time?” Wes asked.

“Because I think I have a pretty good idea of where they'll be headed.”

“You said Mark saw my gold?”

Clint nodded.

“And you think he'd tell the killers about it?”

“Seeing as how badly he got chased off the last couple of times he tried to come after me, I think so.”

The old farmer looked up at his stable and let his eyes wander back toward the barn. “Damn,” he muttered.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“You two trying to hide out while we do all the work around here?” Lynn asked as she walked up to Clint and Wes. She wore a brown dress that showed the wear of working in the dirt for the last couple hours. She pulled a set of gloves off her hands and held onto them as she rubbed Wes on the shoulder.

“Clint thinks there may be trouble,” Wes explained.

“If you're worried about Mark and Joey, I wouldn't be so sure,” Lynn said. “They like to talk a whole lot more than they like to fight.”

“Have they ever done any robberies?” Clint asked.

Lynn laughed a bit and shook her head. “You mean like that bank robbery in town? If they were in on that, it wasn't their idea. Mark used to talk about robbing eleven dollars from a general store. Actually, he used to brag about it.”

“Nothing more than that?”

She shook her head without a moment's hesitation.

“What about shooting anyone?” Clint asked. “He's taken plenty of shots at me.”

“And he didn't hit much of anything,” Lynn replied. “That's Mark Rowlett for you.”

Even though Clint shared a bit of Lynn's laughter, his smile slipped some when he asked, “How far do you think he'd go to get you back?”

That caused her smile to slip as well. Taking a deep breath and holding up her chin, she told him, “Just about anything he could. He may not know much about how to treat a lady, but Mark sure doesn't like letting one go.”

“Would it surprise you to think he might have joined up with the bank robbers if it meant using them to come back here and take you out of here?”

Some of the color drained from Lynn's face, but her voice didn't waver. “Not in the least,” she said.

“Then I need to have a word with you and Tina.”

“Tina knows all about Mark, Clint. I've told her plenty.”

“It's not about him,” Clint said. “I'd like to see how well you two can handle a gun.”

When he'd first arrived, Mark thought there was no way in hell he'd want to buy what the whores at that trading post were selling. Once he'd managed to get Smalls and his men to work for him, however, Mark was much more ready to celebrate.

Along with the whiskey, Smalls handed over a few coins to a short woman who was missing half her teeth. Mark allowed himself to be dragged to the woman's room, hoping that he could close his eyes and still enjoy the next few minutes.

“That's it, darlin',” the whore grunted as she straddled him and pumped her hips. “Keep it on just like that.”

Mark moaned once and trembled slightly as a smile drifted onto his face. “Damn. That was pretty good,” he sighed.

The whore was still pumping, but she slowed down once she felt that Mark was no longer moving. Suddenly, she looked at him as if she'd seen warts spring up from every pore of his body. “What? You mean that's it?”

“That's plenty. You did your job.”

Letting out a disgusted breath, she climbed off and pulled her slip down to cover herself. “Damn, that's got to be the sorriest piece of fucking I ever seen.”

Mark hiked up his britches and slapped the whore across her mouth. At that moment, he realized just how much he missed Lynn. Since the whore didn't move, he slapped her again. “Get those legs open,” he said. “I want another poke.”

Rubbing her cheek with the back of one hand, the whore started to pull up her slip and open her legs. As soon as Mark was close enough, she brought one of her legs straight up to slam Mark directly in the groin. “I'll be damned if I'll let an asshole like you lay another damn hand on me. Besides,” she added while stomping past him to the door, “you only paid for one.”

The pain that went through Mark's groin felt like a hot poker was slipping around inside of him. When he let out a shaky breath, he thought he might have pissed himself. Mark reached down to check, but realized he'd at least been spared that indignity.

“I been to these whores plenty of times and I've seen plenty of things,” John said from the doorway. “But I ain't never seen something as funny as that.”

Mark was about to ask just how much the gunman had seen. On second thought, he decided it was just as good if he didn't know.

“Tommy and Vin want to get moving,” John said. “Soon as you find your other nut, you'd best come outside and lead the way.”

Nodding as he struggled to his feet, Mark thought about how much better Lynn was than one of those whores. He missed her and was anxious to get her back. When Joey's voice cut in on his thoughts, Mark almost took a swing at him.

“These ladies aren't all that bad,” Joey said. “Sounds like there was some hootin' and hollerin' in here.”

“Just collect our things so we can get the hell out of this shit hole.”

 

In the few minutes it took for Mark to get outside, he'd managed to walk a straight line without wincing too badly. Judging by the grins on all three of the gunmen's faces, however, Mark wasn't about to fool anyone no matter how straight he walked.

Just as he thought he might get away from the trading post with a shred of dignity intact, Mark heard Smalls shout to him.

“You gonna be riding sidesaddle, boy?”

Mark thought of a few nasty ways to answer the question, but was discouraged by the sight of all the gunmen who seemed a bit too anxious to knock him down a few pegs. So Mark grinned and shook his head.

“Not this time,” he said. “It'll take more than that to put a dent in me. Are we going to sweep through that farm?”

“You're gonna show me the gold,” Smalls replied.

Mark looked around and noticed that Smalls was the only man on horseback. The other two had taken up positions on either side of Joey.

“You didn't think we'd just thunder off with guns blazing on your say-so, did you?” Smalls asked.

“Actually, I thought we'd—”

“Just take me close enough to get a look at it,” Smalls interrupted. “Then we'll figure a good way to get it out of there.”

Mark forced himself to seem like he was in control when he pointed out, “But there's too much that can go wrong. What if the farmer sees us? What if we run into the law along the way?”

“That posse was made up of a bunch of tenderfeet,” Smalls grunted. “And I ain't about to worry myself about one farmer, neither.”

“I told you there was another gunman there too. What if he's there? Wouldn't you rather go in with all your men behind you?”

“Not when we could be riding into some kind of trap. Me and my boys here got prices on our heads that'd make you a rich man. We've had plenty of assholes try to bait us into some corner or another just so they could take an easy shot at us. Then there's the chance that you could be making up the story about this gold just to save your own ass.”

Shaking his head, Mark sputtered, “I'm not making it up. I swear I saw it right there—”

Smalls stopped him with a raised hand and the cold hint of death in his eyes. “All I want is a look-see. If the gold's there, we'll come get the boys and haul it out of there. If there ain't no gold, well…I got a few things in mind that'll make getting kicked in the tobacco pouch seem downright pleasant. And if I'm not back with some good news, Vin and John will have some fun skinning your friend there.”

Climbing into his saddle while fighting back a pained grimace, Mark said, “All right. Let's go.”