Wildfire Creek (39 page)

The pounding started again. He reached into the drawer by the bed and pulled out his revolver, tucking it into the waistband of his trousers. There could only be one person who’d visit him this late, and he was no longer welcome. Rick walked down the stairs at a slow pace, hoping Flatnose would give up and leave, but knowing it wouldn’t happen. He opened the door.

“What do you want?” Rick asked in a low voice as he looked around, making certain no one saw his visitor.

Flatnose pushed past him, glaring at Rick as the door closed. “They changed the date of the gold shipment. It goes out in two days and we want you with us.”

Rick walked further into the room, standing so his back faced a solid wall with Flatnose several feet away. The news surprised him, but had no effect on his decision to stay out of the gang. “I gave you my answer the last time you came by. I’m out. You’re welcome to the gold.”

“That doesn’t work for us. The men want you along and I told them I’d bring you back with me tonight.” As he’d done before, Flatnose poured himself a drink and downed it in one swallow.

“I’m not going with you tonight or on the raid.”

“I told the boys you’d say that.”

He began to reach toward his holster, but Rick reacted faster, drawing his gun and pointing it at Flatnose. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You can decide to leave, go after the gold, then ride from the territory. There’s no point in either of us dying.” He held the gun firm, prepared to fire if Flatnose forced him.

A mirthless laugh emerged from Flatnose, surprised Rick had figured out his intent. He held his hands out, palms up. “You’re right. It’s your choice to walk away or stay. If you change your mind, meet us at the ranch at sunup in two days. We’ll hit the wagon at the same spot we held up the first one.” He left, leaving a chill in the air, and making the decision Rick had been struggling with an easy one.

Rick grabbed paper and pen, scribbling a short note, then slipped into an old work coat and muffler before pulling back the curtains and looking outside. Neither Flatnose nor his horse were anywhere in sight. He walked out the back door and disappeared into the night, choosing not to take his horse. His destination lay a few blocks away in a business district still buzzing with the sound of piano music and laughter.

He pulled his collar up, wrapped the wool scarf around his face, and walked into the well-lit hotel lobby, stepping to the desk. Rick waited until the clerk acknowledged him.

“May I help you?”

“I need to leave a message for Dutch McFarlin.”

“It’s good to see you, Luke. Sorry to pull you away right after Christmas.” Dutch extended his hand. “At least the weather stayed clear.”

Luke missed the storms and made good time, considering the size of the snow drifts. “Let me get some coffee, then I want to hear about the gold shipment.”

An hour later, Dutch, Tom, and Luke had finished supper and reviewed everything the agents knew about the gold shipment.

“The clerk has no idea who left the message for you?” Luke asked Dutch.

“He says the man wore a ragged coat with the collar up, and a wool scarf wrapped around his face. He’d pushed his hat down so the clerk couldn’t see his eyes. He swears he’s never seen the man before.”

“Do you think the information is accurate, or could he be leading us off their trail?”

“The location makes sense, and it’s where the gang hit the first wagon. It’s also where both Dutch and I would plan a raid.” Tom sipped the last of his coffee and leaned back in his chair.

“Besides the men from the committee who want to ride out, we have three deputies and the three of us. Plenty of men to take out the number mentioned in the message. It’s interesting he included the names of each of the outlaws.” Dutch still couldn’t believe the note awaiting him when he’d left for breakfast. He and Tom had met with several committee members a few hours before Luke arrived, deciding too much information had been included to be a hoax. “Whoever the man is, he must know the gang. Which means he’s putting himself in substantial danger.”

“He may be one of them,” Tom said.

“
Was
one of them. If they discover what he told us, my bet is he’ll be dead within the week.” Luke pushed up from his chair, ready to put another day behind him.

“Appears everyone is ready.” Luke reined in beside Dutch, who checked his revolver, then looked around at the gathered men.

“Everyone circle up.” Dutch waited for the riders to move closer. “The wagon is scheduled to be at the spot the outlaws will attack in four hours. We need to be in place and ready before then. We want to take them alive. However, if they draw on us, we shoot to kill. Any questions?” The men mumbled or shook their heads. “Let’s get going.”

The group rode through the cold weather until Dutch reined up at the location where they’d been told the raid would take place. “We’ll ride up to the ridge above and wait. From there, we’ll have our best chance of spotting the outlaws as they take positions. We’ll disperse around them and come in from behind. Do not move forward until I give the order.”

Although the men nodded their agreement, their expressions told a different story. Along with the eager anticipation on their faces, Dutch could see the temptation to act as they chose when the outlaws appeared. It would be a miracle if any of the raiders made it out of there alive.

Tom took a position ahead of Dutch and Luke, acting as a lookout. They hadn’t been in place long before he signaled the others, indicating he’d spotted men approaching from the south. The wagon would come from the east. The riders he saw had to be Flatnose’s gang.

He pulled out his field glasses, counting seven men, fewer than they’d anticipated. They rode straight toward the spot on the trail where the wagon would pass by, staying mounted and fanning out on both sides.

Dutch signaled the deputies, who got word to the committee members to hold their positions until the wagon came into sight. He still had concerns that some men might take it upon themselves to go after the outlaws before the gold appeared. They needed to catch the gang taking the gold if they had any hope of convicting them of the thefts. He had to let his concerns go. At this point, he could do nothing except the job he’d been hired to do.

Tom shifted his field glasses east. The snow and large load would slow the wagon down, although no one believed gold would be the actual cargo. The gold would be layered on top of dirt and rock, giving the impression of being full of ore.

Before he even saw the wagon, he spotted two guards on horseback, two more men sat on the bench seat, while four guards rode on either side and behind the wagon. He signaled Dutch and Luke, then took up his own position and waited. From his location, he could see the outlaws pull bandanas over their faces and draw their guns—they’d also spotted the wagon.

Luke reined Prince further behind the stand of trees and rocks where he hid. They’d already determined Dutch would cover Flatnose, while Luke, Tom, and the deputies would cover the other members of his gang. The committee members had agreed to hang back, coming forward only if the deputies and Pinkerton agents needed help. None of them believed the men would live up to the agreement. Their desire to eliminate the gang was too great.

The sound of the approaching wagon drew their attention.

“Hold up.” Flatnose’s loud voice bellowed as three of his men dashed in front of the wagon, causing the driver to pull up as the guards seated next to him began to raise their rifles.

“Don’t do it,” one of Flatnose’s men said, cautioning the guards to lower their weapons as the other outlaws rode in from the back, guns pointed at the remaining guards.

When all seven outlaws came into sight, Dutch, Luke, Tom, and the deputies emerged, closing in around them, guns drawn.

Flatnose swiveled in the saddle, his first thought being that Rick had been right. The committee had set a trap and they’d ridden right into it. He acted without thinking, aiming his gun at Dutch, firing high as a bullet ripped through his shoulder. His horse bolted before charging down the trail, Flatnose slumped over the saddle horn. Luke watched Flatnose disappear down the trail, unable to go after him as shots whizzed past him.

What followed happened within the span of seconds. Bullets flew in all directions, followed by men dropping to the ground, moans coming from those injured or dying, and shouts from those still shooting.

“Dutch,” Tom called from his position above.

“Here. Luke’s beside me.” He’d slid from his horse at the same time as Luke, taking cover while surveying the scene around the wagon.

“Six of them are down. I can’t see Flatnose.” Tom made his way down the slight incline, joining them as the deputies checked the fallen men. “Two guards were hit, but they’re still alive.” He spun around, trying to locate the missing outlaw.

“Flatnose caught a bullet and took off down the trail. Doubt he’ll get far.” Dutch joined the others, looking at the men who’d already robbed several gold wagons. This would be their last raid. Six lay dead and Flatnose was missing.

Ezra scanned the road ahead. “Guess I’ll get the bodies loaded on horses or the wagon. I expect we’ll find Flatnose’s body on the trail.”

Luke hoped so. He didn’t want anyone else facing the wounded outlaw before they found him and made certain he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

“Take the injured guards to the doctor. I’ll send a telegram to Sheriff Sterling and let him know what happened.” The sun began to set as they arrived in town. Ezra left the other two deputies to take care of the wounded men while he walked to the telegraph office.

“Good work out there today, Duncan.” Dutch and Luke caught up with him on their way to send a message to Pinkerton headquarters before Western Union closed for the day.

“The problem is we don’t know where Flatnose went. I thought for sure we’d find his body along the trail. I hate having a man such as him loose. Who knows what he’ll do.” Ezra kept shifting his gaze around as he continued walking, expecting to see the outlaw show up seeking treatment for his wound. He needed to talk with the other deputies and set up patrols where Flatnose might look for help. He’d feel better once Sheriff Sterling returned from Moosejaw.

“Does he have anyone he visits in Big Pine, someone who might help him?” Luke asked, shifting his gaze around.

“Not that I know of. ‘Course, I haven’t been in town long.” Ezra thought of the one other person he knew in Big Pine besides Sterling and his deputies—Frederick Marlowe. He’d seen him a few times in town and at church, but they hadn’t spoken since that day at the restaurant. He knew Marlowe owned a big house in a nice section of town, and wondered how the man had come across the type of money needed to buy such a place. He’d let his curiosity go, believing he’d already caused the man enough pain.