Authors: Gary Franklin

Comstock Cross Fire (27 page)

BOOK: Comstock Cross Fire

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Joe came to his feet, a look of disbelief on his face. “You mean you was just
actin'
?”

“That's right,” Wolf confessed. “I didn't see any other way to get the bounty except to pretend that I was collecting it on you.”

“Damn,” Joe said, rubbing his jaw and looking from Wolf to Peabody and back to Wolf again. “You sure had me fooled!”

“It had to be that way,” Wolf said, turning his gun toward the office. “All you people out there just stay seated and don't do anything stupid!”

Peabody moaned, and Joe turned back to the man. “I can't leave this unfinished.”

“Joe,” Wolf said, “he's whipped and I can't let you murder him. If I do that, then I'll be wanted for murder along with you. That's not the way that this is going to end.”

“It'll end the way I say it'll end!” Joe shouted.

“I need this money for my people and you need some of it for your wife and child. Now let's go!”

Joe Moss had his hand on his holstered Colt revolver, and he wanted in the most terrible way to pull the gun out and shoot Garrison Peabody, but the man was on the floor and only half conscious.

“All right,” Joe finally decided. He pointed a shaking finger at Peabody and said, “I killed two of your brothers, so I guess I can understand why you hate me so much. But Fiona never killed the first 'un and I won't have you comin' after us with more bounty hunters. You do, I'll come back and skin you alive! Hear me?”

Peabody managed to weakly nod his head.

“Good!” Joe exclaimed. “Wolf, let's get the hell outa here!”

Wolf thought that was a fine idea. He clutched a fortune in one hand and a gun in the other, and the future suddenly looked a whole lot better for his starving Cheyenne people.

They hurried outside and started up the road through Gold Hill, holstering their guns and moving as fast as they could on foot. They crossed the Divide and then limped through Virginia City until they arrived at the Gold Strike Hotel. Fiona ran out the door and threw her arms around her husband, crying with happiness. Then she gave Wolf a hug for good measure.

“I'm going to find a livery and buy us three fast horses,” Wolf told them. He hoisted the heavy bag filled with cash and coin. “I can buy the best now.”

“Meet us down at St. Mary's where we'll be gettin' our little girl,” Joe told the half-breed.

“I'll do it!”

Joe and Fiona ran all the way down the mountainside to burst breathlessly into the white-steepled Catholic church.

“Father O'Connor!”

The old Irish priest appeared holding hands with Jessica. “I saw you both running down here from C Street and I knew you'd finally come for this sweet and beautiful child of God.”

“Jessica!” Fiona cried, throwing her arms around the girl. “We've come to take you with us this time.”

Joe had a hard time keeping his emotions under control. Father O'Connor pulled him aside and said, “I have something to confess, Mr. Moss.”

“You have something to confess to
me
?”

The priest nodded. “There was a man named Thurston Poole, a hard-drinkin' man who sometimes came to our church for Confession and absolution.”

Joe was confused. “I never heard of Thurston Poole. What's he got to do with anything?”

“He was the one that stabbed Chester Peabody to death that bloody night in front of your wife's shack. Mr. Poole couldn't live with the guilt and he confessed the murder to me.”

Fiona was holding their daughter, but she'd overheard the priest and now she stood to face him. “So . . . so you know that I didn't kill that man, Father?”

“I know,” the priest answered quietly. “And Thurston Poole got so drunk and sick with guilt, despite his confession, that he shot himself in the head two weeks ago.” Father O'Connor bowed his head and made the sign of the cross. “We had a Mass for his poor, tortured soul and we buried him up in our little Catholic cemetery.”

“Father, why in God's name didn't you tell Garrison Peabody that my wife is innocent of his brother's death?” Joe demanded. “I was just at the Shamrock Mine and he doesn't know the truth yet.”

The priest looked very ashamed of himself. “I meant to tell Mr. Peabody someday. But . . . but I didn't know you were coming back so soon and I just . . . well, I just didn't . . . yet.”

“But you will!” Fiona cried. “Father, you must!”

“You have my word that I will tell him this very day that you were not the one that murdered Chester Peabody that dark and terrible night.”

Fiona drew in a deep breath and studied the downcast Irish priest a moment before saying, “We all make mistakes, Father. Even priests. You and the nuns have taken care of our dear little girl out of love and kindness, and so I forgive you.”

The priest smiled and took her hand in his own. “Thank you, my dear. And God go with you and your family always.”

Fiona looked at Joe. “I think we should leave with our daughter right now.”

“Yes,” Joe agreed. “And Father, don't you be waiting any longer to tell that rich man that my Fiona is innocent.”

“I swear on my mother's grave I'll go tell Mr. Peabody today.”

“All right,” Joe said, satisfied that at last the blood feud had been put to rest.

Wolf was waiting in front of the Gold Strike Hotel with three fine saddle horses. “They cost me five times as much as they're worth,” he complained. “Everything up here costs a fortune.”

“You have a fortune now,” Joe reminded the half-breed.

Wolf handed Joe a small bag of cash. “It's not half, but it's still a lot of money, Joe. It'll buy you, Fiona, and that beautiful daughter a good start somewhere.”

Joe was pleased. “Wolf, I'm taking my wife and daughter to see the Pacific Ocean before we go on to the high country.”

“I've never seen an ocean,” Wolf said, eyes on the Sierras. “Mind if I join you?”

“Nope,” Joe said. “In fact, you can come with us all the way to the high country.”

“And which high country would that be?” Wolf asked.

“The Big Horns,” Joe told him.

“Why, that's my country, too!” Wolf said with a laugh.

Joe said to the half-breed, “So we're family now and we're going all the way together.”

Stalking Wolf of the Cheyenne understood what was being said to him and he was glad. He had never really had a family, but now he and Joe Moss were brothers and would live out their days in peace in the big mountain country.