Ralph Compton Death Rides a Chestnut Mare (33 page)

“Which one of you sons of bitches hit me?” he snarled.

“I did,” said Danielle, “and I'm only sorry I didn't do it sooner.”

He went for his gun, only to find himself covered by Danielle's Colt. Baring his teeth like a wolf, he snarled at her.

“Do you know who I am?”

“No,” Danielle said calmly, “but I know
what
you are. You're a woman-beating coward, a yellow-bellied coyote that walks on his hind legs like a man.”

“I'll kill you for that!” he shouted. “Reece McCandless swears it.”

“I'm obliged for the warning,” said Danielle. “I'll watch my back. Now get out of here, and the next time you reach for a gun, I'll kill you.”

McCandless was a big man, and given a choice, he would have preferred being gut-shot to the humiliation he had endured. His face flaming red, he stumbled out of the saloon. As Danielle stepped out onto the boardwalk, she encountered Sheriff Sam Duro.

“Where the hell have
you
been?” Danielle asked. “The brute that just left here had a woman down on the floor, ripping her clothes off.”

“I reckon you stepped in and saved her,” said Sheriff Duro.

“I did,” Danielle said, “and I only regret that I didn't shoot him.”

“God help you if you had,” Duro said. “That's Reece McCandless. Old Simon, his pa, owns half of Brownsville.”

“Does he own you along with it?” Danielle asked.

“Kid,” said Sheriff Duro, “I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that, because you're in enough trouble already. With any luck, you can mount your horse and be long gone from here before Simon McCandless learns what you've done.”

“Sheriff,” Danielle said, “I'll go when I'm ready, and I'm not ready. I called McCandless a woman-beating coward and a yellow-bellied coyote walking on his hind legs like a man, and I don't regret a word of it. I'm sticking to what I said, and I don't care a damn if old Simon McCandless is nine feet tall and feeds on raw meat.”

Danielle left Sheriff Duro speechless. She went into one of the smaller cantinas, where a faro game was in progress, and decided to sit in.

“Five-dollar limit,” said the dealer.

Danielle lost fifty dollars and was about to quit the game when one of the men across the table spoke to his companion.

“I'm tired of this damn town, neck-deep in
Mejicanos.
If Kalpana don't show up by tomorrow night, I'm ridin' on.”

The other laughed. “After what he done in Laredo, he'll likely have to spend the rest of his life south of the river.”

Danielle listened eagerly, hoping to hear more, but the conversation took a new turn and Kalpana's name wasn't mentioned again. The reference to what Kalpana had done in Laredo led Danielle to believe it might have been him who had killed the Texas Ranger. After losing most of her hundred-dollar stake, Danielle began to go over her options. She wanted to remain in the game so that when the two strangers left, she could follow them. Their reference to Kalpana was the only mention of the man's name she had heard after many months on the trail. It wasn't a common name, and she believed it was the outlaw she sought. The two strangers had a run of extremely bad luck, and to cut their losses, they withdrew from the game and started toward the bar. Danielle won another hand just as the pair finished their drinks and were about to leave the saloon. She waited until they were outside on the boardwalk before following them. Eventually, they reached a two-story building, the bottom floor of which was a saloon. A faded sign said ROOMS FOR RENT UPSTAIRS. Danielle watched the pair ascend the outside stairs, waiting for a lamp to be lighted in one of the rooms. Lamplight soon flooded one of the front rooms facing the street. Since the two had returned to their room instead of going on to other saloons, Danielle didn't expect them to leave again before the next morning. When they did, she would be waiting for them. She returned to the Delaney house, finding Ethel on the front porch.

“Come set with me awhile,” Ethel Delaney invited.

“Maybe later,” said Danielle. “I promised my horse some grain.”

She walked on around the house to the stable, and the chestnut mare nickered as she drew near. She grained Sundown and then drew enough water from the well to half fill the horse trough. She then returned to the front porch and sat down in a cane-bottom rocking chair.

“I thought I heard shooting a while ago,” Ethel said.

“You likely did,” said Danielle. “A couple of drunks. I reckon nobody got hurt.”

“Wouldn't be nothin' done about it if somebody had been killed,” Ethel said. “You met Sam Duro?”

“Yes,” said Danielle cautiously.

“He's a disgrace to the star that he wears,” Ethel said. “Outlaws get run out of other towns, and they come here.”

“I heard that,” Ephiram said, joining them.

“I don't care,” said Ethel. “It's the truth. I think they pay Sam Duro to leave them be. I wish a company of rangers would come here and clean up this town.”

“Would do no good,” Ephiram said. “Damn outlaws would just ride into Mexico and hole up there until the rangers were gone. Who are you after, son? Maybe we've heard of him.”

He had caught Danielle entirely by surprise, and she was forced to gather her thoughts before she replied.

“Who says I'm looking for anybody?”

Ephiram laughed. “I do. You don't pack them two guns for show. I figure you got to be a peace officer or a bounty hunter. In either case, this is your kind of town.”

“Ephiram,” said Ethel, “when are you goin' to learn to mind your own business?”

“No offense intended,” Ephiram said sheepishly.

“None taken,” said Danielle, “but you're wrong. I'm no lawman and no bounty hunter.”

She had already told Sheriff Sam Duro her purpose for being in town, and could think of no reason why she shouldn't tell these friendly people the truth. Quickly, she did.

“I can't do nothin' about it,” Ephiram said, “but I hear things. This Snakehead Kalpana was here, but he's spooked after shootin' that ranger in Laredo. He's somewhere on the other side of the border, and God only knows how many other outlaws are with him. You don't aim to ride into Mexico after him, do you?”

“Not unless there's no other way,” said Danielle. “I overheard two men talking in one of the saloons a while ago, and Kalpana's name was mentioned. They're waiting for him, and startin' tomorrow, I aim to follow them.”

“Watch your back, son,” Ephiram said. “There's talk around town that the McCandless boy's gunning for you.”

“Reece McCandless?” Ethel asked. “What on earth for?”

Ephiram laughed. “I forgot to tell you. Our young friend Daniel here was in one of the saloons where Reece McCandless was mistreating a saloon woman. Old Reece got himself buffaloed with the muzzle of a Colt, and he was laughed out of the saloon.”

“I have no patience with women who work in saloons,” said Ethel. “She was likely just getting what she deserved.”

“Sorry,” Danielle said, “but no woman deserves being mistreated by a bully.”

“The McCandless family is a vicious flock of buzzards,” aid Ephiram. “Reese is the only son, and it's shameful what he gets by with in this town. Long as you're here, you'd better ride carefully.”

“I aim to,” Danielle said. “I may have a long day tomorrow, so I think I'll turn in.”

 

 

Danielle was up and about well before breakfast time at the Delaney's, so she stopped to eat at one of the many cafes. While she was eating, she felt eyes upon her. Looking up quickly, she recognized the face at the window as that of the girl she had rescued from Reece McCandless. Just as quickly, the face was gone. Danielle paid for her breakfast and left the cafe, looking in both directions along the deserted street. She started along the main street's boardwalk to the old house to which she had followed the outlaws the night before.

“Look out, cowboy,” a voice shouted.

Danielle went down on her left side, rolling off the boardwalk into the dusty street as shots ran out. She drew her right-hand Colt as she fell and, belly-down, began returning fire. But her assailant was firing from cover, the slugs kicking up dust all around her. Lead splintered the hitch rail over her head, while others slammed into the front wall of a store that had not yet opened for the day. It was a shoot-or-be-shot situation, and Danielle's only hope lay in rooting the bushwhacker out into the open. He had a Henry or a Winchester, for slugs kept coming, screaming closer with each volley. Danielle rolled to her knees and sprang to her feet. She ran, zigzagging her way toward the gunman's position. From the powder smoke, she found him firing from the window of a vacant building that faced the street. Danielle fired twice, and her lead came close enough to spook the bushwhacker. The firing from the window ceased. Danielle reloaded and holstered her Colt. The girl who had warned her stood fearfully in a doorway.

“I'm obliged to you,” Danielle said. “I don't suppose you know who that was.”

“Reece McCandless,” said the girl. “He's been telling everybody who will listen that he intends to kill you.”

“He won't if I kill him first,” Danielle said. “What's your name?”

“Mary,” said the girl. “If you kill him, old Simon McCandless will have every gunman in town after you. You'd better ride away while there's still time.”

“When I'm ready, Danielle said, “and I'm not ready.”

She continued along the boardwalk until she was across the street from the old house to which she had followed the two outlaws the night before. It would be far simpler if Kalpana came to them, she thought. Otherwise, she might have to trail them across the border. Danielle took up a position behind a vacant building. From there she could observe the stairway to the second floor of the house across the street. When the duo finally left, Danielle followed them, only to find they had gone out for breakfast. Finished, they returned to their room and Danielle saw no more of them the rest of the day. Not being in a mood for further conversation with the Delaneys, she returned to the American Saloon, where her trouble with McCandless had begun. It was barely dark outside, but the place seemed unusually crowded. Sheriff Sam Duro was there, and to her surprise, so was Reece McCandless. It was he who was shouting angrily.

“Damn you, I'll have your badge for this. I've been here all afternoon, and I got plenty of witnesses to prove it.”

“Maybe,” said Sheriff Duro, “but somebody slit that girl's throat, and I can't think of anybody with more reason than you.”

“Whose throat's been slit?” Danielle asked.

“Mary,” said a bystander. “You saved her from McCandless last night.”

It was more than Danielle could stand. She approached Reece McCandless, and everybody backed away, including Sheriff Duro. When she spoke, her voice was like ice.

“You've been threatening to kill me, and you tried to back-shoot me this morning. All that saved me was Mary's shouted warning, and you got even with her for that, didn't you?”

“I don't have to answer your damn questions,” McCandless said. “You ain't the law.”

“No,” said Danielle, “and for that reason, I only have to answer to my own conscience. I hear you've been threatening to kill me, and I'm going to offer you the chance. But this time you won't be under cover, trying to shoot me in the back. It's light enough outside. I'll meet you in the street.”

“I won't do it,” McCandless bawled. “I didn't shoot you this morning, and I ain't said nothin' about shootin' you.”

“The hell you ain't,” a salty-looking bystander said.

There were shouts of agreement from other men, and not liking the turn the situation was taking, Sheriff Duro yelled for quiet. Then he spoke to Danielle.

“You can't accuse a man of trying to bushwhack you without evidence, and you have only your suspicions. Get out of here and go about your business.”

“I'm getting out,” Danielle said, “but McCandless has threatened to kill me. Now I aim to offer him the satisfaction of doing just that if he's man enough to face me.”

It became an intolerable situation for Reece McCandless as men shouted their approval. If a man was called out and refused to go, he was branded for evermore a coward. Those in the saloon began to bull-rag him, while Sheriff Duro tried in vain to stop it. Danielle stepped out on the boardwalk, looking over the saloon's batwing doors. McCandless was literally shoved toward the door and out onto the boardwalk. Danielle waited on the other side of the street, then issued a challenge.

“When you're ready, McCandless, make your play.”

“I'm no gunfighter,” McCandless whined. “I won't do it.”

“You cowardly, back-shootin' coyote,” said Danielle, “the next time you come after me, you'd better make it good, or I'll kill you.”

It was a calculated risk, and Danielle took it. For a split second, she turned her back on Reece McCandless, and then she did something none of the onlookers had ever witnessed before. She whirled, drawing her right-hand Colt as she did so, and dropped to one knee. Three times McCandless fired, the slugs zipping over Danielle's head. She fired once, and the force of it slammed McCandless back against a hitch rail. The rail broke, and McCandless fell to the boardwalk on his back.

“Damn you,” Sheriff Duro shouted, “I ought to lock you up for forcing a gunfight.”