Blood Gold (4 page)

With Patrick having left Gideon to pursue Salvador on his own, Gideon could no longer ignore his reasons for his journey. He hurried to a gallop.

Within an hour, he caught his first sight of Salvador, riding ahead at a mile-eating trot.

Gideon took a deep breath and hailed one of the backing riders. He waited for a returning hail, then galloped on to meet the group.

The riders drew to a halt and formed a semicircle with Salvador setting his horse forward from the rest.

Gideon drew his horse to a halt before them. He glanced at Hannah, who stared back with no hint of her usual good humour. Then he faced Salvador.

‘What do you want?’ Salvador grunted.

Gideon took a deep breath. ‘Figured that I was right when you first told me you were going after Jack – someone has to be around to fill the bullet holes and bury the bodies.’

Salvador narrowed his eyes as he appraised Gideon.

‘That ain’t the real reason.’

‘It’s part of the reason.’ Gideon hung his head, then shrugged. ‘What with all that gold around, I figured I might get something for providing you with some doctoring.’

‘Hey,’ Zane Singer whined, ‘we got all the help we need. We ain’t cutting him in.’

‘We ain’t,’ Salvador said. He rubbed his chin, then leaned forward in the saddle. ‘But perhaps Gideon’s right. Some doctorin’ might be called for. And we might be prepared to pay for it.’

‘I ain’t accepting that,’ Zane muttered.

‘Be quiet, or you’ll be Gideon’s first patient.’

Zane glared back a moment, then glanced around the semicircle of men, but as nobody met his gaze, he set his jaw firm and stared straight ahead.

For long moments Salvador glared at Zane, then turned back to Gideon.

‘You can come with us,’ he said. ‘But if I reckon you got some other plan in mind …’ Salvador raised his eyebrows and grinned.

Gideon held his hands wide. ‘Like what? I don’t pack a gun.’

Salvador shrugged. ‘I dunno. But the same rules apply to you as apply to Hannah. Keep quiet. Do as I tell you to. And give me no reason to think you’re plannin’ anythin’.’

Salvador waved a finger above his head in a
circular
motion and the riders disbanded to form into their previous line, with four men staying back and five men scouting ahead.

Gideon edged into the middle of the group to ride
alongside Hannah. He glanced at her, but she continued to face the front and ride silently. But when the riders had hurried to their former trot and edged a distance apart, she looked at him.

‘Why have you followed us?’ she said, her voice low.

Gideon coughed. ‘I reckon you know.’

‘I don’t.’ She flashed him a harsh smile. ‘It can’t be anything to do with me, because you know I can take care of myself a whole lot better than you can take care of yourself.’

‘Yeah,’ Gideon snapped. ‘Like you said, it can’t be anything to do with you.’

This time, Gideon turned to face the front and although his cheeks tingled as if Hannah continued to look at him, he resisted all temptation to turn to her.

‘Patrick,’ Rusty said, shaking his head, ‘a man in your condition should be resting.’

Patrick grunted a laugh and stalked towards Rusty. When he was ten yards away, he stood sideways and firmed his gun hand, his gaze resolute.

‘Seems I ain’t.’

‘I know.’ Rusty pointed at the body lying sprawled beside him. ‘You did well. That man was all set to kill me.’

‘I ain’t looking for thanks.’ Patrick grinned. ‘I was just saving you so I could kill you myself.’

‘I don’t reckon that’s you talking.’ Rusty edged a pace to the side and pointed at Cliff’s body. ‘And as I
reckon that man had left Jack’s group, we might have got some of our gold back already.’

Patrick snorted and raised his gun hand a mite.

‘
We
ain’t done anything.’

Rusty hung his head a moment, then looked up and held his arms wide.

‘Patrick, you ain’t still thinking that I shot you, are you?’

‘I sure am.’ Patrick rubbed his left hand over the bandages encasing his chest. ‘You never forget your partner blasting lead in your guts.’

‘I didn’t shoot you. I told you.’ Moving with extreme slowness, Rusty unhooked his gunbelt and held it to his side, then stared at Patrick, his eyes wide and pleading. ‘And I know you, Patrick. You won’t kill an unarmed man, whatever you suspect he did.’

Rusty rolled the belt over one shoulder, then
sauntered
to Cliff’s side. He toed the body over and rummaged through his clothing. He frowned, then stood back.

‘Rusty,’ Patrick muttered, ‘stop ignoring me.’

Rusty kept his gaze away from Patrick as he stood and walked to the edge of the canyon. On the edge he stood a moment, then paced over the side.

Patrick jumped on the spot, then scurried to the canyon side and peered down.

‘Stop!’ Patrick shouted, but Rusty was already
sliding
on his heels down the canyon side.

Patrick aimed his gun at Rusty’s receding back, then snorted and hurried to follow him.

In a huge cloud of dust both men slithered to the
bottom, Patrick ten yards behind Rusty.

At the bottom, Rusty still kept his gaze away from Patrick and dashed to the second body. He rummaged through Fernando’s clothing, then checked on the dead men’s horses. A low whistle escaped his lips. He turned to Patrick, smiling, and pointed at the bags dangling from Cliff’s saddle.

‘They do have a share of the gold. Seems we—’

‘Quit ignoring me!’ Patrick shouted. He aimed his gun at Rusty’s head. ‘You’re a man who tried to kill me and you’ll face that now.’

‘Patrick, you’re a good man. You’d never kill
someone
based on a suspicion that he might have tried to kill you.’

Patrick’s gun hand shook, but he grabbed it with his other hand, stopping the shaking.

‘You’re right. I wouldn’t kill based on a suspicion. But I don’t have a suspicion. I know what I saw. And I saw your gun fire and I felt lead rip into my guts. That’s all the proof I’ll ever need.’

As Patrick advanced a long pace, Rusty dropped his gunbelt at his feet and raised his hands to
shoulder
level, then spread his arms wide. With his gaze set firmly on Patrick, he puffed his chest and jutted his chin.

‘Then don’t just stand there telling me what you want to do, shoot me and make us even, because we have the rest of our gold to get back and arguing is just slowing us down.’

Patrick looked Rusty up and down, then set his feet wide and nodded.

‘All right. Tell me what happened. As you’re my former partner, I’ll trust anything you say.’

‘Obliged.’

‘Don’t thank me. If I let you live and I ever find out that you’ve lied to me, I’ll track you down and kill you.’ Patrick firmed his gun arm. ‘So tell me. What happened in Hangman’s Gulch?’

Rusty took a deep breath and centred his gaze on a spot two feet above Patrick’s head.

‘One of Jack’s gang shot you. He must have guessed—’

‘Liar! You shot me. I saw the gunsmoke.’

‘That’s because I fired my only bullet. But I didn’t fire it at you.’

Patrick snorted. ‘And after you fired at someone else, you don’t expect me to believe that Jack let you go, do you?’

Rusty swung his right arm in until the hand was pointing at Patrick. The hand was shaking with an uncontrollable tremor.

‘You know I ain’t brave like you. I was scared and my hand was shaking even worse than it is now. My aim was so poor nobody realized I’d fired at anyone but you.’

‘Jack Wolf is the leader of the worst gang of bandits around. He wouldn’t just let you go.’

‘Jack may be a bandit, but he honours his promises. The cards said one of us would go free if we fought a showdown, and as we did – sort of – he let me go.’

Patrick locked his arm and narrowed his eyes.

‘I don’t believe a word of that.’ Patrick glared at Rusty, but as Rusty still couldn’t meet his gaze, he snorted. ‘You’re lying. I can see it in your eyes.’

Rusty lowered his head and scuffed the earth at his feet. He gulped with a pronounced sound, then looked straight at Patrick.

‘You’re right,’ he whispered, his voice as light as the wind. ‘I was lying. I shot you.’

Patrick closed his eyes a moment.

‘I wanted to hear the words, but now you’ve said them, I hardly believe it.’

‘But it ain’t like it sounds.’

‘Then what is it?’

Rusty stumbled back, then slumped to the ground and sat. With his lips pursed, he hugged his knees and rocked back and forth. Then he stopped the rocking and looked up, his eyes brimming with tears.

‘Take that gun off me and I’ll tell you.’

Patrick held his gun on Rusty a moment longer, then lowered his arm to his side.

‘Go on.’

‘I was doing like you said,’ Rusty said, his voice faint. ‘I picked one of Jack’s men to shoot at. He was standing behind you and I reckoned he’d shoot you in the back when he realized we were fighting back. So when you went for your gun, I shot at him, but I was shaking and my aim was all wild, and I …’

Rusty snuffled and rubbed a shaking hand over his face.

‘You mean you hit me by accident?’

Rusty nodded. He scuffed at his eyes, wiping away moisture.

‘Yup.’

Patrick rubbed his chin. ‘But you said it wasn’t you straight away. You lied even then.’

Rusty slammed the flat of his hand against his brow.

‘I reckoned you’d die and I didn’t want your last sight to be me killing you.’ He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘So I panicked and lied.’

‘And afterwards? Why did Jack let you live?’

‘With you half-dead, I told Jack that I won the showdown. He believed me. He even gave me a few dollars for the entertainment before everyone left. I got you to Destitution and you know the rest.’

Patrick snorted his disbelief and aimed his gun straight at Rusty’s chest, but his arm shook with an involuntary tremor. He planted his feet wide and
gritted
his teeth, but no matter how hard he gripped his gun, the shaking just worsened until, inch by inch, he lowered his arm.

‘Damn you, Rusty,’ he muttered, slamming a fist against his thigh. ‘I know what I saw you do and that was no accident. But I can’t shoot you in cold blood. I ain’t anything like—’

A gunshot blasted, ripping shards from a rock ten yards to Patrick’s side. He darted a glance over his shoulder.

Two riders, Leland and Tort, were hurtling down the canyon and straight for them, their guns thrust out and blasting at them.

At the brow of a rounded hill, Salvador Milano halted the line of horses. Below, a long river wended a snaking path to the north, but on a jutting
headland
stood the abandoned compound of Fort Clemency.

The French had originally built this fort, but recently the cavalry had abandoned it too and now it was rapidly falling into disrepair. The stockade of logs still stood, but the buildings inside were now crumbling.

In case Jack had stopped there for the night, Salvador turned and encouraged the other riders to back so that they didn’t present an obvious outline against the sky.

When everyone had retreated, Salvador gestured back to Hannah for her to approach him.

Hannah darted a glance at Gideon, but as he was still staring straight ahead, she paced her horse forward. When she drew alongside, Salvador raised his eyebrows.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘d’you reckon Jack might stop there?’

Hannah shrugged. ‘I don’t know Jack that well, but he’ll have to stop for the night somewhere, and that fort seems safe.’

‘I didn’t ask what you reckoned,’ Salvador snapped. ‘You’re here for one reason – you know Jack. So would he stop there?’

Hannah sneered. ‘As I’m here for just one reason, perhaps I should head down to the fort and find out.’

‘Now you’re gettin’ the right idea.’ Salvador widened his eyes. ‘You know what to do, don’t you?’

Hannah fluffed her hair, a sly smile emerging.

‘From what the girls said about you, I don’t reckon you can teach me anything.’

Mack Hoffer gibbered his amusement, but Salvador cut him off with a harsh glare, then swirled back to Hannah, his eyes blazing.

‘Watch what you’re sayin’ or when we take Jack, the lesson you’ll learn will be your last.’ Salvador glared at Hannah a moment longer.

Hannah met Salvador’s gaze, but still a small gulp escaped.

‘I know what I have to do. I’ve remembered the signal.’

Salvador edged his horse to her side and lowered his voice.

‘Good. Don’t try anythin’ and this’ll end right fine for all of us.’ Salvador swirled round and nodded to Mack. ‘And as you were mighty amused by this, you’re going with her to check she ain’t minded to try anythin’.’

‘Hey,’ Mack whined. ‘They’ll be alone. How will I know what she says to Jack?’

‘You won’t.’ Salvador chuckled and glanced around the arc of men. ‘But don’t go worryin’ ’bout us. If you don’t give the signal, we ain’t riskin’ our lives.’

Mack glanced at Rodrigo, then Olen, then the other men, searching for support, but he received nothing but blank glares. With much grumbling, Mack pulled his horse to the side and drew alongside Hannah.

‘What you so nervous about?’ Hannah asked, a grim smile on her lips.

Mack gulped and raised the reins in a shaking hand.

‘I reckon I’m dead no matter what happens. If you double-cross us, Jack kills me. If you don’t, the second I give the signal, I get to die first.’

Hannah glanced at Mack. ‘If you carry on shaking like that, you’ll be dead long before I even get to thinking about double-crossing you. Come on.’

Hannah rode ahead a pace, the reluctant and slow Mack at her heels, but Gideon raised a hand.

‘Wait!’ he shouted.

Hannah and Mack halted and glanced over their shoulders.

‘For what?’ Salvador said.

Gideon rode up to face Salvador. ‘Mack doesn’t need to go into the fort with Hannah. I’ll go in with her instead.’

‘Best idea I’ve heard,’ Mack said. He whooped and
cantered back to the main group.

‘You ain’t goin’ into the fort,’ Salvador muttered, shaking his head.

‘Why?’

‘I ain’t got to give you no reason, but bein’ as you asked so nicely – Jack ain’t seen Mack, but he’ll smell trouble the moment he sees your ugly hide again.’

‘He hasn’t seen me before. He was only in Destitution for a night and spent most of his time with Hannah. The rest of the time he was tormenting you.’

Salvador glanced away a moment, then turned his gaze on Gideon and leaned forward in the saddle.

‘Ain’t convincing me. Mack goes with her.’

With a steady gaze, Gideon glanced around the ragbag bunch that had accompanied Salvador on this foolhardy mission, then snorted.

‘You obviously haven’t looked at your followers properly. If any of them rode into that fort, Jack would know something was wrong.’ Gideon held his hands wide and put on his best smile. ‘But I don’t look like trouble.’

Salvador followed Gideon’s slow gaze around the group, appraising his motley collection of lowlifes. He matched Gideon’s snort.

‘I guess you ain’t lookin’ like trouble.’ Salvador lowered his head a moment. ‘All right. You can go with Hannah. But make sure she doesn’t do anythin’, or you’ll see the sort of hell we can raise.’

Gideon tipped his hat and rode from the group, but he trotted past Hannah without looking at her. He trotted over the brow of the hill and kept his gaze
set forward so that Hannah had to speed to a gallop to join him.

She edged ahead a pace and glanced back at him.

‘Suppose you reckon I should thank you for coming with me,’ she said.

‘Not saying that,’ Gideon murmured with his jaw set firm.

‘Good.’ Hannah set her gaze forward. ‘Because I ain’t.’

Beside the river, Patrick and Rusty shared a glance. Then Patrick dashed for the cover of a tangle of rocks fifty yards to his right.

Rusty rolled to the side and grabbed his gunbelt from the ground, then hurtled after Patrick as he slipped it round his waist.

At a gallop Leland and Tort bore down on them, their guns blasting with every stride.

One gunshot gouged into the earth scant inches from Rusty’s right boot, another ripped through his hat.

Rusty thrust his head down and wheeled his arms as he fought for more speed. With each pace, he gained on Patrick, until Patrick hurtled behind a boulder. Rusty threw up his hands and in a long rolling dive tumbled behind it to crash into Patrick.

Patrick shrugged away from Rusty, clutching his ribs.

‘You hurt?’ Rusty asked as he rolled to a kneeling position.

‘Nope. Just trying to be careful like the doctor told
me to. You banging into me like that ain’t helping.’

Rusty glanced over the boulder to see the two assailants dismount and dash behind another
boulder
twenty yards before them. He ducked and leaned against the boulder beside Patrick.

He noted Patrick’s pale complexion, the beads of sweat on his brow, his slumped posture, his heavy breathing.

‘You don’t look well, Patrick.’

Patrick wheezed, then cleared his throat and sat up straight, wincing with the effort.

‘I been hearing that a lot since you shot me.’

‘I didn’t shoot …’ Rusty lowered his head a moment and sighed. ‘Stay here and cover me. I’ll get them.’

‘Sure.’ Patrick sneered at Rusty. ‘You can trust me.’

Rusty glared at Patrick, then bobbed up. As neither of their assailants was visible, he jumped to his feet and dashed at an angle to their covering boulder.

He’d dashed ten paces when Tort bobbed up and fired at him. Rusty hurled himself to the ground, rolling over his right shoulder as lead whistled by his tumbling form. He continued the roll and flopped to a halt on his belly, aiming towards the rock.

For long moments he waited for someone to venture out. Then Tort leapt up. In an instant Rusty fired and this time Tort fell back, his hands clawing at his chest. Rusty didn’t wait to see whether his gunfire had been as deadly as he hoped and charged at the rock.

In five long strides he reached the rock and threw himself over it. Leland was crouched on the other side and with a great clawing swipe, Rusty grabbed him round the neck and tumbled him to the ground. Both men rolled over and over, each trying to pin the other down.

‘Patrick, help,’ Rusty shouted. ‘I got—’

Leland clawed up. He clutched Rusty around the neck and dragged him down. Then, using his greater weight, he rolled Rusty on his back.

In desperation, Rusty bucked and tried to knock Leland to the side, but Leland bore down with all his weight on Rusty’s chest. Rusty glanced to his side and from the corner of his eye, he saw Patrick poke his head up from behind the boulder and fire, but his shot whistled over Leland’s head.

Leland still flinched and, using this momentary advantage, Rusty bucked Leland away. But Leland grabbed a firm grip around Rusty’s neck and both men tumbled to the side, then staggered to their feet, each holding the other in a bear hug.

‘Shoot him,’ Rusty screeched.

‘You’re too close,’ Patrick shouted, pacing out from behind his cover.

Leland glanced to the side at Patrick, then pulled Rusty round so he was between him and Patrick. With a short-arm jab, he slugged Rusty’s jaw,
knocking
him back. Even before Rusty hit the ground, he was dashing towards the riverbank.

Standing sideways, Patrick blasted a shot at him. It was wild but Leland skidded to a halt, dropped to
one knee, and blasted lead at Patrick.

Patrick hurled himself behind his covering rock but as Leland ripped another wild shot at Patrick’s tumbling form, Rusty ran and dived at Leland, bundling him back and over the side of the
riverbank
.

Both men floundered as they searched for purchase on the slippery ground, but Rusty was the first to gain his footing and with a long round-armed slug to the jaw, rocked Leland back a pace.

Leland flailed his arms, searching for balance, but then tottered to the side to land heavily and in an avalanche of stone and dirt tumbled head over heels into the river with a great splash.

Rusty sat. For long moments he trained his gun on the water, but when Leland bobbed back up, he was floating face down, his arms wide and still.

Still, Rusty watched the body swirl downstream until it drifted beyond a large tangle of fallen trees. Then he jumped to his feet and climbed over the riverbank to face Patrick. He smiled.

‘Seems we fought well when we were a team again.’

Patrick glared back a moment, then nodded and produced a thin smile while rubbing his ribs.

‘Suppose we did,’ he murmured.

‘But more important that that – you made a good decision before they arrived.’ Rusty lowered his voice. ‘We should be friends.’

‘We should.’ Patrick sighed and tipped back his hat with his gun barrel. ‘But I don’t know if I can
trust you again.’

Rusty shuffled to Patrick’s side with his head down.

‘Don’t worry about that now. When we have our gold back, you can decide what you want to do.’ Rusty gestured down at Tort’s body and forced a thin smile. ‘Like I was trying to tell you before, these men have got their share of our gold-dust on them, so we’ve got some of it back already.’

For long moments Patrick stared at Rusty, then glanced at Tort’s body. He snorted and holstered his gun as he stalked to Tort’s horse. He unhooked one of the bags of gold dust. In his right hand he hefted the bag, then turned to face Rusty and forced a smile.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We got the rest of our gold to get back.’