Ball and Chain (18 page)

“Go on,” Clint urged when he heard Acklund's voice taper off. “Tell her the rest.”

Acklund started talking. When he told Ellie about how he'd gotten word that the barber was paying to transport something valuable and that Dave had talked his brothers into stealing it, Clint was just as interested as she was. To Acklund's credit, he gave a fairly accurate account of the first time he'd crossed paths with Clint. Only when he got to the part about Dave's last misstep did Acklund stop for a moment.

After taking a breath, Acklund kept his head down and said, “All three of us were never all good, but Dave was the worst. We were still brothers, though. We backed each other when we could and never thought to take anyone else's side. We didn't go along with Dave every time he went to rob a store or take a run at a stagecoach, but we weren't about to stand in his way.

“Mose tried to protect him just like he protects me. He's the oldest and that's what the oldest brother does. Both of us lost our heads when Dave died like that and we went after Clint to put it right.” Shaking his head, Acklund said, “We should've known better and we shouldn't have fired on innocents like that. When we did that, it reminded me of how stupid and reckless Dave always was. Still, I didn't think to put a stop to it until I saw you, Ellie.”

She smiled and reached out for his hand. Clint stopped her from getting too close.

“So you've got all the sweet talk now,” Clint said, “but that may just be because there's a gun to your head.”

“He's always been sweet,” Ellie cooed. “From the moment I first saw him.”

“Which was when?” Clint asked.

“Not that long ago, but it was long enough,” she replied without hesitation.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Oh, for Christ's sake.” Even though he didn't want to admit it, Acklund didn't seem particularly dangerous. He hadn't made one move to get Clint's gun or grab Ellie as a hostage. Clint had been prepared to correct Acklund's story when he was recounting past events, but hadn't needed to step in. More than that, Clint could see something in the other man's eyes.

Being able to tell when a man was bluffing at a poker table had saved Clint's life more times than he could count. That skill let him know when a man could be lying or when he intended on making a move against him. It also gave him a good idea when a man wasn't bluffing. Oddly enough, Clint was beginning to trust Acklund Winter.

“So what do we do now?” Clint asked.

Ellie let out a breath and sat down as if she no longer had the strength to stand. “I need to think for a moment.” She sighed.

Acklund started to put a hand on her knee, but pulled it back. Looking up at Clint, he said, “You got me dead to rights, but I don't need to tell you that. Whatever you do with me, just let her go.”

“I wasn't about to do anything to Ellie,” Clint replied.

“Then let her go. She needs to get out of here.”

Sensing the urgency in Acklund's voice, Clint asked, “Why? What's the rush?”

“Mose is still out there. He don't want to see reason where Dave was concerned and now he's got some of Dave's friends to back him up. They're coming to kill you tomorrow and they intend on doing a real messy job of it.”

Clint knocked on the door to Ellie's house using the side of his foot. After something rustled behind the curtains of the front window, the door was pulled open by Hank. As always, the old man didn't look happy.

“What the hell you doin' here?” Hank slurred. Squinting to get a better look at the man standing beside Clint, he asked, “An' who the hell is this?”

Ellie walked past Clint, Acklund, and her father as if she weren't about to take any guff from any of them. “Have you been drinking?” she asked.

“Yeah. So what? Didn' I see that one before?”

“Yes, you have, Pa,” Ellie replied simply. “He's one of the men who shot the house. Can you get some water?”

“What? Huh?” the old man grumbled. He sputtered even more when his daughter put a bucket in his hand and pushed him toward the pump. Despite all the noise he was making, he scooted off to the pump just as he'd been asked to do.

Clint gave Acklund a nudge, which was enough to get him moving into the house. Stepping across the threshold, Acklund let his head hang low and his feet scrape the boards as he walked.

Acklund's gun belt was still slung across Clint's shoulder. During the walk to the house from the Ranger Hotel, Clint had been waiting for Acklund to try to reclaim his weapon or even make a run for an alley along the way. Either one of those moves would have made things a whole lot easier for Clint as far as dealing with the man. Since Acklund had stayed true to his word and behaved himself, Clint was stuck with the problem of what to do with him.

Now that they were inside, Clint could see Hank's shotgun propped against a nearby wall. He tensed his gun arm in preparation to draw once he saw Acklund's eyes drift in that direction. But Acklund didn't even flinch toward the weapon. More than that, he didn't so much as glance at Clint to see if there was an opportunity for him to make a move.

The old man shuffled back into the house and set a bucket of water down near the door. “Did you say this fella shot my house?” he asked.

“How much have you had to drink?” Ellie asked.

“Just enough to make me forget about losin' my little girl.”

Still wearing her stern expression, Ellie walked forward to give her father a hug. “I'm still here. See?”

“Still touched in the head is what you are,” Hank snapped. “If that man shot my damn house, I ought to shoot his damn head!”

Acklund bristled and lifted his chin. “Hey. Don't talk to her like that.”

“Just sit down,” Clint said as he clapped a hand on Acklund's shoulder, “and shut up.”

Acklund did as he was told.

“This is one of the men that shot your house,” Clint said to Hank. “He's also one of the men who tried to shoot me when I was on my way into town. He's also—”

“I love him, Pa,” Ellie cut in excitedly. “I honestly do.”

“Yeah,” Clint said in a level tone that had none of Ellie's excitement. “He's that, too.”

Hank looked back and forth between all of them as if his eyes were rattling within their sockets. His face flushed with anger that had become all too familiar to Clint and he tripped over his tongue a few times before he could get any words out. “This . . . this is crazy.”

Without making a sound, Clint nodded.

Ellie, on the other hand, couldn't stop smiling. “I know how this sounds, but didn't you always tell me I'd know it when I found the man that was right for me?”

Grudgingly, Hank replied, “Yeah. I suppose I did.”

“Well, Clint's a good man but he's not the one. Acklund is. I could feel it when I saw him and I could feel it when we . . .”

Clint cringed, praying that Ellie wasn't dumb enough to get into every last detail.

“When we looked into each other's eyes.” Ellie sighed. “I could just feel something special.”

Clint had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes, but at least she didn't say anything to get her father riled up again. Hank, on the other hand, didn't try to hold back a thing.

“That's the sappiest bunch of horse manure I've ever heard,” the old man grunted. Looking at Acklund, he asked, “I suppose you'll agree with her just to stay on her good side, huh?”

“I agree with her because it's true,” Acklund replied. “And I feel the same way.”

“Fine,” Hank said. “We'll settle this later. Is this why you all came stomping into my house to ruin a perfectly good evening?”

“Partly,” Clint replied. “I thought you should know where your daughter was, but there's something else.”

“There always is,” Hank muttered with a shake of his head.

“It might be a good idea for you to spend the night somewhere else,” Clint told him. “Actually, you might want to spend tomorrow away from here as well.”

“Why?”

“The men who shot up your house may be coming back.”

Glaring at Acklund, Hank said, “I thought you said this was one of them men.”

“I am,” Acklund declared. “But my brother will come back and he's bringing some others to take my place. I don't know for certain he'll come back here, but just to be safe—”

“Safe, hell,” Hank interrupted. “Ain't no place really safe. What do you think, Clint? Should I go run and hide?”

Clint needed to take a moment to get over the surprise. Not only had Hank addressed him more or less civilly, but the old man actually seemed interested in a response. Perhaps his last day in Hinterland wouldn't be so difficult after all.

Clint spent the night on the front porch of the Ranger Hotel. It was wedged in between several other shops and businesses and had a good view of Hinterland's Main Street. Clint could see folks coming and going fairly well and the only way to get into the hotel from the back was past a gate that was squeaky enough to wake the dead. Acklund swore up and down that he hadn't mentioned the hotel to his brother, so there wasn't any good reason for Mose or the other two to go there.

It felt peculiar for Clint to put any trust whatsoever into anything Acklund told him. Only a few days ago, the two men were shooting at each other. Now Acklund barely seemed capable of harming a fly. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Stepping outside as if he sensed the storm brewing in Clint's head, Hank pulled up a rocker and sat down next to him. “Thought I was the only one to get up so early,” he muttered.

Clint looked up at a sky that was a dull orange color with streaks of bright yellow coming in from the east “It's not that early,” he said.

“You should tell that to them two kids.”

Smirking, Clint replied, “I don't think they're sleeping.”

Hank gritted his teeth and shifted in his rocker. “No need to be so matter-of-fact about it.”

“I'm surprised you let them stay within twenty yards of each other.”

“Especially after what I put you through?” Hank asked.

“Something like that.”

The old man grunted and finally found a comfortable spot in his chair. “The tighter I cinch in the reins on that girl, the more she'll buck. Tell you the truth, I don't feel right about what I did to you. There just weren't a good way out of it.”

“You could have just let me go,” Clint pointed out.

“Sure, but that'd mean I was wrong.”

Hank kept his stern expression on his face for a good couple of seconds. In that time, Clint actually thought the old man was trying to make a point. When Hank finally broke into a chuckle, he slapped Clint on the back and told him, “I wasn't gonna hurt ya. Once Mike got to town, I was gonna turn you loose and watch you run the hell away from here.”

“Let me guess. Not a lot of fellows come sniffing around Ellie's door?”

“Too many. That's why I gotta put my foot down.” Leaning back to look at the hotel, Hank shook his head. “Seein' you and her like I did . . . I suppose it ruffled my feathers the wrong way.”

Clint nodded. “I have a pretty good idea of how you feel.” Hank surprised him again by tapping him with the back of his hand. When Clint looked down he saw that the hand was open and waiting to be shaken.

“No hard feelin's?” Hank asked.

Clint shook the old man's hand. “Ellie's a good woman. It's nice to know she's got someone looking out for her. Just try to go easy on Acklund. Something tells me he means the things he says.”

“Yeah, I know. I seen too many boys lookin' at my Ellie the wrong way. I recognize when there's somethin' right in their eyes. I jus' don't know about the boy's family.”

“Yeah,” Clint said. “Hopefully, we'll put that matter to rest soon enough. Speaking of which, I should find another spot to watch the street before I bring them right to you.”

Hank waved at the street as if he were dismissing Mose, Dave's friends, and any other gunmen that might have their sights set on him. “Eh, those boys couldn't find their own asses with a funnel. If they could, they would'a been here by now.”

“They can find their guns,” Clint pointed out. “That's enough to make them dangerous.”

“I put you through enough hell already. The only reason you're still here is because I hog-tied you and shoved a shotgun in your face. If not for that, you would've been gone and probably lost them gunslinging idiots along the way. The least I can do is watch your back now.”

“That's downright touching, Hank.”

“Then you got a crooked way of thinkin', boy. I'm just trying to set things right. Besides, since I can't keep Ellie away from a man she fancies, I might as well show that man what I can do if he steps out of line. If there is a fight comin', it'll show me what this Acklund is made of.”

Clint patted the old man on the shoulder. “You want to put things right, just stay by Ellie and keep her safe. I'll do the rest.”

“And if Acklund plays us both for fools?” Hank asked.

“Then I'll make him wish he was never born.”

After a quick breakfast, Clint made his way to the Howling Moon Saloon. It was a place that Acklund and Mose had already been to, so he figured there was a chance that Mose and anyone riding with him had visited it again. The barkeep recognized Clint on sight, but hadn't seen the eldest brother.