Man From Boot Hill (18 page)

The Busted Wheel ranch was an impressive spread by anyone’s assessment. It was situated on a portion of land close to the size of Joseph’s property, but had almost double the number of buildings at its center. Nick and Joseph rode straight over the fence at the property line and stormed through the open terrain as if they were trying to wake the dead.

Finally, the two of them came to a stop and waited. After a few minutes, they still couldn’t see any sign that they’d been spotted.

“This makes me sick,” Joseph said as he shook his head. “Any man who’d let someone get this far into his property without getting a look at him deserves to be robbed.”

Nick shrugged and stood up in his stirrups so he could get a better look around. The night was clear enough for him to see fairly well in every direction. “I guess Dutch must have gotten someone on the inside of this place just like he did with yours. We haven’t passed a single steer, though, so
the herd’s probably not even here. They must be after a hell of a lot of gold.” Fixing his eyes upon a spot in the distance, Nick lowered himself back onto the saddle. “Well, it looks like we’re not as alone as we thought.”

Joseph eventually spotted the same rider Nick had seen. After a few seconds, he said, “Looks like there’s only one.”

The rider came to a stop several yards from Nick and Joseph. He tipped back his hat and propped a shotgun on his hip so it couldn’t be missed. “You two lost?” he shouted.

“No sir,” Nick replied. “We’re looking for the Busted Wheel ranch.”

“You found it.”

“Good. I need to speak to the owner.”

“You found him, too.”

“I’m Nick Graves and this here’s Joseph Van Meter. Can we have a word with you?”

The longer the rider stayed quiet, the more Nick thought he and Joseph were going to be turned away. After a while, Nick even began to wonder if he might have to deal with the business end of the shotgun in the rancher’s hand. Finally, he lowered the shotgun into a pouch on the side of his saddle.

“Follow me,” the rider said.

Before Nick or Joseph could respond, the rider had turned around and headed deeper into the property.

The owner of the ranch was in his late fifties
and had a head full of thick, silver hair. His large, friendly eyes were set closely together over a bulbous nose. He rode straight to the middle of the property, where most of the buildings were clustered together like a small village.

One of the larger buildings was a wide, flat-roofed house with a porch that spanned the entire front. Climbing down from his saddle, the owner waved for Nick and Joseph to tie their horses to the same post where he’d tied his own. Once both men had complied, he walked up the two steps leading to the porch.

“You said your names were Nick Graves and Joseph Vandemere?” the silver-haired man asked.

“Van Meter,” Joseph corrected.

“Right,” the man replied, tapping his ear. “These don’t work like they used to. I’m Brad Hofferman. Pleased to meet ya both.”

Nick shook Hofferman’s hand, but climbed only one of the two porch steps. “Good to meet you, too, sir. We really need to have a word with you.”

“Talk away. Sorry about the reception. I don’t usually meet guests with a shotgun, you know.”

The front door to the house swung open and a slender lady stepped out. Her smile was bright and her dark hair was streaked with some gray. Glancing back and forth from Brad to the other two men, she asked, “What’s all the commotion out here? It’s past midnight.”

“I know,” Hofferman said with a crinkled smile,
“but I heard the dogs barking, so I went out to have a look-see. Found these two out skulking around in the dark.”

“Do you know them?”

“That’s Nick and that’s Joseph. I was just about to ask if they’re hungry.”

“We didn’t come for food,” Nick said. “We need to warn you about—”

“Nobody asked if you came for food,” Brad scolded good-naturedly. “I asked if you were hungry.”

Nick looked over his shoulder at Joseph and got a roll of the eyes in response. Seeing that both Brad and the woman were waiting expectantly, he said, “You might have some company soon and they won’t want food. They’ll want to rob you blind.”

Brad’s eyes widened. “What makes you think something like that?”

“Because we just drove most of them off,” Joseph snapped. “Not that there’s anything stopping them if they did decide to turn around and ride through here. Don’t you have any men riding your perimeter?”

“Not when there’s nothing to steal. The herd’s already up to Kansas by now and the boys won’t be back with the money anytime soon. Most of the ranch hands that did stay behind took work moving steers for some other fella. Me and the missus here were just enjoying the quiet.”

“I might know where those cattle came from,”
Joseph said bitterly. “Do you have anything else of value here? Anything at all?”

Brad scowled a bit, but still couldn’t get himself to look too threatening. “Why would you want to know something like that?”

“We crossed paths with some men who were known to raid spreads like this one here. We know for a fact they’ve had their eyes set on this place.”

Shrugging, Brad said, “There’s always someone out to take what you’ve got. I’ve learned that ever since I started running my own outfit.”

“So does anyone want some pie?” the lady asked. “I baked it fresh this morning.”

“I want some,” came a little voice from inside the house.

The lady stepped to one side and allowed a little girl with bright blonde pigtails to step into the doorway. She couldn’t have been more than six years old and was rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“This is our little granddaughter Sandy,” the lady said. “She’s waiting for her daddy to come back home with the rest of the boys, isn’t she?”

The girl nodded and clung to her grandmother’s dress.

For a few seconds, Joseph couldn’t take his eyes off that little girl’s face. When he saw her shrug away from his intense glare, however, he snapped his eyes toward Brad and said, “You need to listen to us, old man. Get your head out of your ass, for God’s sake!”

Brad walked forward and stood between Joseph and the front door. “You’ll watch your tone, mister.”

“We’ve had a rough night,” Nick said. “Please, just give us a moment to explain.”

“You’d best explain and be on your way, then.”

“I will. Just give me a second with my friend, here.” Turning to face Joseph, Nick shoved him away from the porch until there was a bit of room between them and the rancher. “What in the hell is wrong with you, Joseph?” Nick hissed.

But Joseph’s eyes were still fixed upon the front of the house. The anger had subsided, but there was still plenty more going on inside of his head. “Those folks don’t know what’s coming. Jesus Christ, they don’t even seem to know what kind of wickedness is out there.”

“We’re here to warn them, but we’ll be run off this land if you keep barking at them like this.”

Joseph kept shaking his head. “They don’t even guard what they’ve got. It’s like they just roll on their backs and let anyone on a goddamn horse ride in and do what they please. They worry about their fucking pies or where that little girl’s daddy is when they could be dead right now!”

“Dead like your wife and your little girl, is that it?” Nick asked.

It was a harsh question, but it was the only thing to snap Joseph out of the bloody memories that were washing over him. When he looked at Nick this time, he seemed to be fully aware of his sur
roundings. “Yeah.” Joseph sighed. “Like them.” He started to look toward the house, but couldn’t meet the eyes that were looking back at him. “Maybe you should talk to them on your own.”

“Do you think you’re going to give our host another tongue lashing?”

“No.”

“Then you’re coming with me to apologize. Besides, these folks need to hear what kind of men they might be up against, and you’re the man to tell them.”

Joseph nodded and took a few deep breaths. He started walking toward the porch, but stopped when he saw the silver-haired man rush down the steps to intercept him.

“I think you two should leave,” Brad said.

Nick was about to step in, but held off when he saw Joseph calmly wave him back.

“I spoke out of line, Mister Hofferman,” Joseph said. “But these men we told you about are out there and they nearly killed both me and my friend earlier tonight. They’ve done a whole lot worse to people much closer to me. We’ve followed them this far to try and put them down, but there’s still some left and they’ll probably be headed here to finish the job they started.”

The silver-haired man glanced back and forth from Joseph to Nick. “That would explain why you’re wound up so tight. Come to think of it, I have seen some fellas roaming at the edge of my
property. I figured I’d keep an eye on them, but thought they’d lose interest once they saw there’s no herd for them to steal.”

“They’re not out to steal a herd,” Joseph said. “They stole enough cattle to keep them busy for a while. In my case, they bought one of the hands who worked for me and found out where I kept some money I’d been saving. That’s the sort of thing they’re after, Mister Hofferman. They know about the gold you have. I know this sounds crazy, but—”

“But that’s how some folks are,” Brad interrupted. “Some men are civil and some are just animals. I didn’t get this many gray hairs without dealing with my share of animals, you know.”

“Has there been a problem with rustlers in these parts?” Nick asked.

“Oh, sure. Real nasty ones, too. From what I heard, they’re the type who spill blood for the sake of spilling it. Now that you mention it, some of my own workers have been caught poking around where they shouldn’t be.” Brad gave a single, solid nod and then turned toward his house. “You boys come in and have something to eat.”

“We were hoping to get something ready in case anyone tried to make a move on this place,” Nick said. “They’re probably going to make it soon.”

“Then you’ll need something on your stomachs to make it through the night,” Brad insisted. “All of my men are gone, but if these killers are after what I got stashed, they’ll be coming to this house.
It’ll be a long night, so head inside and get a bit of food while you can. The devils will still be out there when you finish eating.”

Nick and Joseph looked at each other and knew they were thinking the same thing: Suddenly, the old man didn’t seem so careless, and he was far from stupid. His wife was regaining her smile and the inside of the house looked awfully inviting compared to the growing chill of the night.

With nothing else left to do, they shrugged and went inside to have some pie.

When they heard the thunder of approaching horses, the morning was just a promise smudged across the bottom of the sky in a few streaks of orange. Dawn would arrive in an hour or less, but the darkness wasn’t about to give up its fight.

They rode straight across the property as if they owned it. Dutch rode at the front of the formation with five men following behind and flanking him on both sides. His murderous eyes were focused upon the ranch house, and he charged forward until he was almost close enough to ride straight through the front door.

One of the other men was in his late twenties and had a lanky frame. He was breathing so heavily that one might have thought he’d done all the running for the last few miles. “They should be in there,” he said. “I’ll go in and bring them—”

Before he could finish, Dutch interrupted by drawing his pistol and sending two shots through the front window. The sound blasted through the early morning air, shattering what little remained
of the almost sacred silence. By the time the glass stopped falling, Dutch and three of the other men were off their horses.

“Anyone in that house better come out!” Dutch shouted. “Because I’ll just be coming in after you!”

The three men standing around Dutch were the same three who’d ridden in Joseph’s group during the charge he and Nick had orchestrated. Long Face stood closest to Dutch. He had a gun in each hand and looked plenty anxious to use them.

“I’ll go in,” Long Face said.

“Fetch the old man, Ross,” Dutch shouted over his shoulder. “You’ll know where to look.”

The lanky young man climbed down from his saddle, but paused as if he thought Long Face would do the job if he only waited long enough. Before Dutch had to ask again, Ross took a deep breath, drew his gun and walked toward the front of the house. Before he could get up the steps, the front door swung open and Brad Hofferman stepped out.

Shaking his head solemnly, the silver-haired man put his hands on his hips and met Ross’s eyes without taking much notice of the other men. “We treated you as good as the rest of our hands, Ross,” Brad said. “What would possess you to do something like this?”

“I…I…” Ross stammered.

“We know about the gold you took out of the river that let you buy this spread,” Dutch cut in. “Hand it all over and we’ll leave.”

“I will not,” Hofferman said defiantly. Even though he carried a shotgun in his hands, the weapon seemed like more of an afterthought. His arms hung loosely and the shotgun was positioned across his body at waist level.

“Stand aside, old man,” Dutch said. “You don’t want to push me right now.”

When he saw that Hofferman wasn’t about to move, Long Face surged forward and shoved him away from the door. “You heard the man! He said move!” Grinning with his easy victory, Long Face started to walk into the house, only to be stopped by the man who was standing behind Brad.

Nick stood with his hands at his sides and his holster strapped across his belly, waiting for Long Face to spot him. He took hold of Long Face’s shoulder and buried a punch in his gut that forced the air from the man’s lungs.

Long Face stumbled backward and sucked in a few shallow breaths. Seeing that Dutch and the others were watching him, Long Face raised his gun.

Nick’s eyes remained fixed on his target and his hand effortlessly plucked the modified Schofield from its holster. He fired once and then shifted his aim to the rest of the men, knowing Long Face was already done.

“Fine,” Dutch said calmly. “We’ll do this the hard way.”

The moment he went for his gun, a shot went off over everyone’s heads and knocked Dutch off his feet.

The other two men who’d ridden on Joseph’s side of the charge drew their pistols in a rush and immediately began pulling their triggers. Hofferman raised his shotgun and emptied one barrel after another, the first of which sent a gunman sailing into oblivion. Although his second barrel only grazed one of the other gunmen, that man got knocked down by another shot from Nick’s Schofield.

As the men were falling beside him, Dutch pulled himself up and searched for the gunman who had put the lead into the meaty part under his arm. That bullet hadn’t come from either of the two men on the porch, so he knew there was another shooter. Sure enough, when he looked upward, he saw Joseph on the house’s flat roof, sighting along the top of a rifle.

“God…damn…you!” Dutch shouted as he lifted his arm to take a shot at the roof.

Joseph squinted behind his sights and took aim. He pulled his trigger again with every intention of punching a hole through Dutch’s skull. Instead, he tore a section from the man’s cheek and knocked the back of his head against the dirt.

Nick could feel panic building in the air just like he could smell the burned gunpowder hanging in front of him. He stepped through the acrid cloud, kicked the gun from Dutch’s shaking hand and then took aim at one of the two other gunmen who were still standing. Hofferman was right beside him, aiming his freshly loaded shotgun at his former worker.

Ross shook his head wildly and tossed his gun. He might have fired a shot or two, but wasn’t even collected enough to hit the house. “I swear I didn’t want anyone to get hurt!” Ross said. “You weren’t even supposed to be here!”

“Guess it’s a good thing I decided not to go along on that drive, then,” Hofferman said. “Otherwise, I never would have seen for myself what a sorry piece of trash you are.” Hofferman looked to the other young man standing nearby. “And you, Peter? You sided with these men, too?”

Peter was a man in his thirties with a round face and dull eyes. Letting his gun drop from his hand, he said, “A man’s gotta make money however he can.”

Hofferman shook his head and tightened his grip on his shotgun.

Just then, Joseph stormed through the front door of the house with the rifle in his hands.

“Cover this one here,” Nick said, indicating one of the two gunmen, before Joseph could do anything.

Joseph complied and stood at the edge of the porch.

Nick walked over to Dutch, squatted down to his level and said, “Things aren’t so easy when you don’t have a dozen men backing you up, are they?”

“Go to hell,” Dutch wheezed.

Joseph’s rifle barked once to send a round into Dutch’s face and out the other side of his head.
Dutch lay sprawled on the ground, twitching for a few seconds before his end finally came.

When Joseph spoke, it was in a soft, almost disbelieving voice. “That man killed my family,” he said as if reciting it to himself. “He killed them.”

Hofferman’s eyes were wide and he shifted nervously on his feet while keeping his rifle aimed at Ross. “What’d he say?”

“He’s speaking the truth, Mister Hofferman,” Nick told him. Looking to Joseph, he said, “Put the gun down now, Joseph. It’s all over.”

But Joseph shook his head slowly while shifting his aim to Peter. “No it’s not. It’s not over until they’re all dead. Every last one of them.”

“You’ve done plenty,” Nick said. “You and me have tracked these bastards down and put an end to them. It’s over, you hear?”

Joseph kept shaking his head as he put his rifle to his shoulder and took careful aim at Peter’s head. Seeing the cold, haunted look in Joseph’s eyes, Peter couldn’t breathe. Moving was entirely out of the question.

“Jesus!” Peter said. “I didn’t hurt no one! I swear!”

“Not yet, maybe,” Joseph said. “But you would have.”

Joseph’s finger tightened around the trigger just as someone suddenly shoved his rifle barrel toward the sky. Fire roared from the barrel, scorching the mangled hand that held it.

Gritting his teeth through the pain, Nick tried
to pull the rifle out of Joseph’s hands, but the heat from the barrel made him give it up. “What in the hell are you doing? Stop this!”

“That’s a fine way for you to talk, Nick. You’ve killed more men than I have, and now you want to start preaching to me?”

“Those men we tracked down were killers who meant to kill us. I did as much dirty work as I could so you wouldn’t have to.”

“I didn’t need your help. I didn’t even ask for it!”

“The hell you didn’t!” Nick snarled. Since he’d let go of the rifle, it had been aimed directly at his chest. He didn’t seem to care about that in the least as he glared into Joseph’s eyes and shouted in the hopes of being heard. “You charged into this thing looking for revenge and if you couldn’t have it, you would’ve been more than happy to die. I recognized that look in your eyes the first night I took you in, and you had every reason for it to be there. That’s why I decided to help.”

“You want to help? Then step aside, Nick.”

“I may not know what it’s like to lose a wife and daughter the way you did, but I know what it’s like to want to kill as badly as you do right now. I felt that taste in my mouth when I was shot to pieces in Montana. I tasted it when those good folks who helped me were threatened, run off and…God only knows what else.”

“That wasn’t the same,” Joseph said bitterly. “Not by a long shot.”

“It was brought about differently, but killing is killing. The men who killed your wife and daughter deserved to die. It’s only right that you got to take the first shot at them, eye for an eye, just like the Good Book says.

“I spent years of my life digging through the same pile of shit until it was all dug up and the men that wronged me got what they deserved. More than once, I wondered what it would have been like if I would have just turned my back on it all and got on with my life when I still had the chance. Turn the other cheek, just like the Good Book says,” Nick continued with a wry grin. “It’s too late for me. I spent years healing up and gunning down anyone who even talked about that Committee. From there, I kept living by my gun because it was all I knew. I’ve been like that since I was old enough to shoot straight. But you haven’t.”

As he listened, Joseph’s eyes darted from Nick to the two men behind him. They were still too frightened to move, and if they tried or so much as flinched, Hofferman and his shotgun were there to change their minds.

“You have every right to be angry,” Nick said. “And you always will. What happened was terrible, and the men that hurt your family deserved what they got. Folks are hanged for stealing horses. Hell, I arrange the parties they throw afterward. Sometimes, killers get away just because they’re smarter than the men trying to hunt them down. I
know both sides of this argument too damn well.”

“So what?” Joseph said with a little less venom in his tone. “I’ve killed, so I guess I’m no better. Is that it?”

Nick shook his head. “You could have let the law take a run at these men, but you didn’t. I don’t really blame you for that. The men you killed, as bad as they were, will haunt you. I tried to give you some time to simmer down and have second thoughts, but you kept going. I can’t blame you for that, either. You’ll carry this with you your whole life, but these two boys here,” Nick said, pointing behind him, “they didn’t have a damn thing to do with what happened to you or your family.”

“They would’ve hurt this family right here.”

“Maybe, but they didn’t. I’d wager you can live with putting bastards like this one down,” Nick said, gesturing toward Dutch’s body as if it was a dung heap.

“I couldn’t have lived with myself if I didn’t,” Joseph replied solemnly.

“What about this boy here?” Nick asked while stepping aside to let Joseph look at Ross. “He wasn’t there that night. He doesn’t know you. Kill him and you’ll be stepping into some territory that you don’t want to get into. You’ll lose sight of the man you were and you’ll become a killer without any bit of righteousness behind you. You’ll be a stone’s throw from the assholes who drove you to this. You’ll be an outlaw, and there’s no angels for outlaws. Those words become truer to me every
day. Maybe you should think about them before you get so far into hell that you won’t be able to find your way out.”

Although Joseph didn’t say anything, the fire in his eyes was dimming a bit. Nick stepped forward until he bumped his chest against the end of Joseph’s rifle barrel.

There was no fire in Nick’s eyes.

There was no emotion whatsoever.

There wasn’t even a flicker of humanity when Nick took his modified Schofield and pointed it directly between Ross’s eyes. It was that same icy glare that had gotten Nick further in his days as a bad man than whatever gun was in his hand at the time.

“I could pull this trigger right now, send this boy to his Maker and sleep just as well as if I’d spent the day picking daisies,” Nick said evenly. “I’ve spilled too much blood for another few drops to make a dent anymore. All it would have taken to keep me from losing so much of my soul was for someone to tell me when to stop. Every man is entitled to his justice. You’ve gotten yours. Now…stop.”

The longer Joseph stared at Nick’s face, the more he felt like he was looking into a cold, bottomless pit. He couldn’t hold that gaze for too long and when he finally looked away, Joseph felt as if he’d been shaken out of a fever dream. The anger was still inside of him, but it no longer had the teeth and claws that had been ripping his guts apart.

When he let out his breath, Joseph felt as if he’d been holding it for weeks.

“Put the gun down, Nick,” Joseph said. “It…it’s over. This is all over. I just want to get back home.”

Nick holstered the Schofield and lowered his head. Even after Joseph had turned and walked toward the house, Nick kept his head down and his eyes open as the coldness slowly worked its way under his skin.