Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] (7 page)

“You’ll do no such thing.”

Vanessa turned slowly, disbelievingly, when she heard those softly spoken words. Kain was still squatting beside the fire. His eyes caught and held hers. He wasn’t smiling. Silence pressed down on the entire camp as the two did battle with their eyes.

“If you said what I think you said, you just watch me,” Vanessa said through lips stiff with anger. “We’ve got enough trouble here without you adding to it, so ride out, mister.”

Kain stood, his face rigid with impatience and anger. He would have given a year of his life to be able to throw her across his lap and spank her bottom.

“You’ll have more if you ride out of this camp by yourself, you stubborn, muleheaded little brat. In an hour’s time you’ll find yourself flat on your back in the grass, and when those woman-hungry drifters get through with you, if you’re still alive, you’ll wish you were dead!”

“Well I never! You don’t have to be so crude!”

“Crude? For God’s sake! Who do you think took those mules? Sunday school boys? They’re cutthroat drifters, outlaws, the scum of the Plains. They want women! And here, in this camp, is a woman for each of them. Get some sense in that stubborn head of yours and stop acting like a balky mule.”

“You hadn’t ought to talk to Vanessa like that.” Henry came to stand beside her and Vanessa looked up at him in dismay. He had squared his shoulders and was trying to look Kain in the eye, although she could feel the hand on her arm trembling violently.

“I’m not being disrespectful, Henry,” Kain said gently but firmly. “I had to speak plainly so she’d realize I will not allow her to go off on a wild goose chase that could get her killed or . . . worse.”

“I don’t want her to get hurt, either.” Henry’s voice dropped to a whisper.

Surprised by Henry’s defense and Kain’s understanding of what an effort it was for him to speak up, Vanessa was silent for a moment. And when Henry backed down, an overwhelming desire to hit Kain made her clench her fist and bite her lower lip. He had won Henry over to his side! She was losing control. This . . . puffed-up jackass was taking over.

“
You
won’t allow?” Vanessa focussed on what irritated her the most.

“
I
won’t allow,” Kain answered evenly. “Now climb down off your high horse, Vanessa, and behave yourself. I have to get going if I’m going to get those mules back.”

“How do we know you’re not one of them?”

“You don’t. But I’m the only hope you’ve got.”

“He’s right, dear. Please listen.” Ellie stood on the far side of the campfire, her hands wrapped in her apron and a worried look on her face.

“Saddle up, Henry. You’ll have to help me bring the mules back if I get them.”

“He’s not going with you,” Vanessa said quickly. “I’ll go.”

Kain ignored her. “You can handle the mules, can’t you, Henry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I tell you he isn’t going!”

“No, Mr. DeBolt,” Ellie said worriedly. “Henry . . . has never shot a gun.”

Kain looked from one woman to the other and then to Henry. Henry hung his head and looked away. Kain muttered something under his breath that sounded like a string of curses.

John spoke, breaking the awkward silence. “Young feller, I’d be obliged to go with ya.”

“I was counting on you staying in camp and looking after the women, Mr. Wisner. I was also counting on Henry to bring the mules back if I got pinned down.”

“Mary Ben can shoot a rifle good as any man I ever did see. With Mary Ben they be as well off as if it was me here.”

“I want to go, Vanessa. I want to help.” Henry was shaking her arm to get her attention.

“Henry! It will be dangerous.”

“Saddle the horse, Henry,” Kain said quietly and waited until he walked out into the darkness. Then he spoke to Ellie. “John will go with me, and Henry can bring back the mules. He’ll be all right. I left my horse back in the trees. I’ll get him.”

“Who does he think he is?” Vanessa sputtered after Kain left. “He just comes waltzing in here and takes over.”

“Ma’am,” John had turned away, but came back. “I been all up ’n down the cattle trails from the gulf to Kansas, ’n I seen men aplenty. This one knows what he’s about. Them’s three bad fellers we come up against. We be mighty lucky DeBolt came along.”

“He’s right.” Ellie rolled and unrolled her hands in her apron. “Oh, I wish we’d never come to this godforsaken land.”

“If Henry goes, I go,” Vanessa announced stubbornly before stalking off in the darkness.

She was mounted behind Henry with the shotgun in her hand when Kain rode into camp. He eyed them for a long moment, as if that was what he expected. John spoke to Mary Ben, picked up a big buffalo gun, checked the load, and climbed up on one of his horses. He rode Indian fashion with only a blanket between him and the horse as if he’d been doing it all his life.

“Does she know how to use a gun?” Kain nodded toward Mary Ben. “And would she use it if she needed to?”

“You can bet yore life on it.” John rode to the far side of the camp and let loose a stream of tobacco juice before he spoke again. “Ma’am, ya’ll be all right with Mary Ben. She’ll do what’s got to be did. She been down the trail ’n cross the creek.”

Kain’s eyes sent a silent message to Vanessa that she interpreted to mean, “He’d much rather have Mary Ben along than Vanessa.” She tilted her chin defiantly and glared at him.

“Come on. Let’s get at them before they know this is all they’re up against.” Kain led off and John followed with Henry and Vanessa bringing up the rear.

Vanessa, snug against Henry’s back, could feel his excitement. She wondered why in the world Aunt Ellie had permitted him to go. Henry was her whole world. If anything should happen to him it would kill her aunt. It would kill her, too, she thought and hugged him close.

“You be careful, hear?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer because Kain had stopped his horse and they had moved up beside him.

“The camp is just ahead, Henry. John and I will ride in. You stay back until I tell you to get the mules. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you stay out of sight,” he said to Vanessa.

Fifty yards from the camp he held up his hand and Henry halted the horse. He pointed his finger. Henry slid off the horse and went silently through the brush to the spot where the mules were tied to a line strung between two trees. Kain and John walked their horses to the edge of the camp. Light streaked the eastern sky. Birds chirped noisily and fluttered in the willows that grew beside the river. The horses and mules, not used to being together, added to the noise by stamping and blowing gusts of breath through quivering lips.

The men by the fire didn’t hear anyone approach until a horse whinnied a greeting. They looked up, and the heavyset man jumped so quickly to his feet that he dropped his coffee cup in the fire. There was a short hissing sound when the liquid hit the flames, and then quiet. They stood waiting, their eyes going from the man on the sorrel to the old man riding bareback.

“Our mules got loose in the night. I reckon you caught them and are holding them for us,” Kain said. “We’re much obliged. We’ll take them off your hands.”

“Ya will, huh?” The fat man wiped his greasy hands on his shirt and looked nervously at the thin, dark man in the black vest. “Wal, now, I’m athinkin’ we ort a study on that a bit. Finders is keepers is what I hear. Ain’t that right, Tass?” The thin, dark man stood stone still, his coal black, unblinking eyes on Kain’s face. The light-haired kid grinned, showing missing teeth. Kain knew exactly what the kid was thinking: they’d be easy pickings because there were only two of them against three.

Although the fat man was doing the talking, Kain knew instinctively the breed was the one to watch. He wore his gun tied down and his right hand was ready. He had that still look about him that spelled trouble.

“The mules belong to the folks back there. We’re taking them back.”

“Are you?” The dark man spoke for the first time. His face was tight and his lips barely moved. “We’ve got the number on you. That means we keep the mules till the woman comes to get ’em.”

“She’s here.” Vanessa spoke from somewhere behind Kain. “Now it’s three on three.”

An oath sprang to Kain’s mind that he dared not voice. The damn fool girl would mess around and get them killed. He shoved his anger to the back of his mind. He couldn’t allow it to tighten him up.

“No,” Kain said, choosing his words carefully and looking squarely into the dark eyes of the man who stood tensely, as if coiled to spring. “It’s just you and me.”

Tass’ thin lips tightened, honing his already sharp features. He had not expected that. There was quick calculation in his eyes. The stranger was mounted, he was on the ground. But there was the old man with the buffalo gun.

“What does that mean?”

“It means we take the mules and ride out. It means if you make a move to stop us, I’ll kill you.”

The breed was bothered by Kain’s confidence but was still sure enough of himself to stand his ground. Kain waited to see how long it took for the man’s sand to run out. The more bothered he was the better Kain’s chances. The breed was a killer. Kain had seen his kind before; quiet like a snake, but when he struck he meant to kill. How many men had he shot in the back, and how many men had he killed face-to-face?

“Vanessa, you and Henry get the mules.”

Kain heard her turn her horse. The breed’s ink-black eyes darted from him to the girl and back. His nostrils flared, but otherwise he didn’t move a muscle.

“Like hell,” the fat man yelled suddenly.

Vanessa’s horse jumped nervously and squealed when she drew up on the reins. The fat man thought this was his chance; his hand swept down. It was the last thought he would ever have. The buffalo gun boomed. The force of the shot flung him back like a rag doll, and when he landed there was scarcely anything left of his head.

Kain’s gun was out and covering the other two, who stood in flat-footed astonishment, caught that way, unmoving, not wanting to move. The gruesome sight of their companion’s headless torso had taken the fight out of the young one. The skin on his face had turned a pasty yellow.

“Get out of here,” Kain snarled at Vanessa and she went.

John calmly rammed another charge in the buffalo gun, then cocked it and pointed it at the men.

“I’m aready,” he said calmly. “Ya want that I blow ’em to hell, too?”

“It’s up to them,” Kain said matter-of-factly. “If they don’t shuck the guns by the time I count to three, go ahead.”

“I ain’t sure I know past one,” John said innocently.

The men unbuckled their gun belts and let them fall to the ground. The kid seemed to notice for the first time the splatters of the fat man’s blood on his pants. He gagged repeatedly, then bent over and vomited. The dark man seemed unmoved by the grisly sight and kept his eyes on Kain’s face.

“Keep them covered, John, while I collect the guns.” Kain got down out of the saddle, picked up the gun belts and the gun the fat man had dropped. He collected three rifles and bashed them against a tree until the barrels were bent. “You birds will be busy for a while burying your friend, so you won’t need your horses. We’ll borrow them for a spell.” He walked over and cut the horses loose from the line. “Unless you want to join your fat friend, keep a distance between yourselves and those wagons.”

Kain mounted and drove the horses out of the camp ahead of him. John followed slowly, watching the men over his shoulder.

*  *  *

Primer Tass watched the old wolf with the buffalo gun ride out and congratulated himself on his self-restraint. Unlike the stupid, fat Dutchman, he would live to even the score with the gringos. They would wish they were dead a hundred times before he was through with them. The kid and the Dutchman had both wanted the girl who rode with the old man. He’d have the spunky woman! She was just what he’d always looked for and had known he would find some day. She was fresh and spirited and would fill his days and his nights with excitement.

All his life Tass had taken leavings; leftover clothes, leftover food, leftover, used-up women. His own mother, part Comanche and part Mexican, had been used up by his father, an old white son of a bitch, by the time Tass was old enough to know who he was. But he had fixed the old bastard with a knife in his throat when he’d tried to use him after his mother died. This time it would be different. Someone would get
his
leavings.

Tass had thought of nothing but the woman since he had seen her. He thought of the way she had warmed him the day before when she sat on her horse and looked just at him, and the way she’d sassed him back. She reminded him of a little wildcat, and he was sure she’d fight like one. He would watch and wait, and when the time was right, he would take her and head for the wild, desolate country in Mexico. On the way he would break her like he would a wild mountain pony. Just thinking about it excited him. He’d tame her with his quirt and fists until she lay naked and willing beneath him, legs and mouth open to welcome him. He would teach her what he wanted her to do, then he’d devour her day and night until he got his fill.

His mind told him to stop thinking about her. Soon, and for as long as he wanted her, the woman would be his. He was in no hurry. It was a long way to Denver or Santa Fe or wherever the woman was going. He would follow slowly, take his revenge on the gringos, then take her.

Ellie and Mary Ben were waiting at the edge of the camp when Vanessa and Henry rode in with the mules. Mary Ben, shading her eyes with her hand, looked behind them toward the river.

“Mr. Wisner’s all right, Mary Ben.”

“And Mr. DeBolt?” Ellie asked.

“He’s all right, too, Aunt Ellie. Mr. Wisner killed one of them,” Vanessa blurted, still shocked by the sudden violence.

“Killed one? Oh my goodness!”

“Let’s get hitched up, Henry.” Vanessa feigned composure, for she did not want her aunt and cousin to see how unnerved she was. She had seen death many times in her life and had come to accept it for the old, the sick and the injured. But never had she seen such sudden violent death as she had just witnessed.