Stampede at Rattlesnake Pass (8 page)

"Anyone hurt?" cried one voice.

"Dunno," yelled another. "Bring some
light."

There was a snort, and then a dismissive
voice reported, "It’s just a guy and a whore."

Jake was standing with his arm about
Rosalind’s shoulders. She was trembling like a little girl and he
snapped in the direction of the last anonymous speaker. "Whoever
said that had better keep his mouth shut afore I shove a cake of
soap in it. This lady has had a bad shock – after a couple of the
low life in this town tried to jump us." He worked his aching
shoulder like a windmill and advanced on the crowd, which parted
before him.

"Hold up there!" called a voice that Jake
recognized as belonging to Sheriff Slim Parfitt. "If there’s been
gunplay in Silver City I want to know who’s been doing it."

Jake and Rosalind had moved into the circle
of light tossed out by one of the boardwalk lanterns. "I fired,
Sheriff – at a couple of cowardly curs who tried to sandbag us as
we walked past that alley."

The sheriff eyed Jake narrowly. "What were
you doing out here with this – lady? She’s one of the girls from
the Busted Flush, ain’t she?"

"My name is Rosalind," the girl returned
with some spirit. "And yes, I do work at the saloon for Miss
Carmen. What of it? It is a good house, as you well know."

"I didn’t say it wasn’t," returned the
sheriff, dismissively. Turning his attention to Jake he shook his
head. "You seem to attract trouble, mister. I don’t like that in my
town."

Jake shrugged. "Then if I were you – Sheriff
– I’d start doing a proper sheriff job and clear the low-life out
of this town." And before the lawman could argue, he jabbed a
finger towards him and demanded: "Did you take care of Miss
Horrocks?"

Slim Parfitt frowned. "I introduced her to
Nat Tooking, the C & SW Cattle Company agent, but it all looked
above board to me. The herd had been bought and paid for. Last I
saw of her she was headed back for the hotel."

Jake nodded and moved off. "I’ll leave you
to apprehend those dogs. Excuse us now, I have to see this lady
gets home safe and sound."

As they walked away from the fast dispersing
crowd Rosalind held fast to Jake’s arm. "Don’t leave me, will you,
mister. I'm scared those two might come back."

Jake patted the hand on his arm. He
recognized that this was not the play of a saloon girl anxious to
hook a cowboy. She was terrified, and he suspected that she knew
who the attackers were.

Carmen de Menendez rushed over from the bar
when Jake brought Rosalind in through the bat-wing doors of the
saloon. "My God! Is Rosalind hurt?" she asked, her face full of
concern. "I heard those shots, but I didn’t think – "

"I am okay, Miss Carmen," Rosalind said with
a tremulous smile. "Mr. Scudder here saved me from – " she bit her
lip, and then went on, " - from two horrible animals. It was so
dark; I didn’t see who they were."

"I think she needs to lie down and rest a
while," Jake said.

Rosalind tightened her grip on his arm and
looked up pleadingly. "W . . . would you stay with me a while, Mr.
Scudder?"

"Of course I will," Jake replied. Then to
Carmen de Menendez, "If that’s all right with you, ma’am."

The saloon owner nodded understandingly. "Of
course. She’s shocked, like you say. Go up and I’ll have some
drinks sent up."

Jake was all too aware of the knowing looks
that were being exchanged all around as he helped Rosalind up the
stairs, and he ignored them. Once inside her room, however, she
moved away from him and sat on the edge of her bed, at the edge of
the circle of light thrown out from the oil lamp by her bedside.
She looked up, a half-smile on her trembling lips.

"I really am grateful, Mr. Scudder," she
said, as she began to unfasten the front of her dress.

Jake waved a hand and shook his head. "Just
keep your clothes on, Rosalind. Like I said, I just want to talk to
you. You don’t need to thank me – and certainly not that way." He
looked about the spartanly furnished room and sat down on the
solitary chair in front of her dressing table.

She looked crestfallen, hurt. "But I – "

They were interrupted by a tap on the door.
Jake crossed the room and threw open the door to find a young man
with finely chiseled Apache features standing with a tray upon
which were a bottle and a couple of glasses.

"Brandy for you and the young lady," he
announced, his expression totally impassive.

Casting a look at Rosalind, Jake took the
tray and nodded. "I think a little drink would do her some good."
He fished in his pocket and produced a few coins. "What is your
name, my friend?"

"Nantan," replied the other, accepting the
coins without obvious enthusiasm. Then with a nod, he said, "Thank
you, sir."

"What does it mean?" Jake persisted.

"In your language,
he who speaks
." And with
another nod he turned on his heel and left.

Jake closed the door with his foot and
crossed the room to the dressing table, where he poured two glasses
of brandy. "His name seems a bit of a joke," he said with a grin.
"He seems kind of disinterested in everything, rather as if he’d
prefer to be asleep."

Rosalind smiled. "Nantan? Yes, he’s a
strange one. He came into town about six months ago. He does any
job that anyone will pay him to do. And you are right, I have never
seen him smile or show any emotion." She accepted the glass and
drained it in one swallow, shaking her head as the liquid hit her
stomach.

"You did need that, didn’t you," Jake said,
sipping his brandy. "Now tell me the truth, Rosalind. You went to
pains to tell Carmen de Menendez that it was too dark to see those
jaspers who attacked us." He stared at her with penetrating eyes.
"But you knew them, didn’t you?"

Rosalind dropped her head to avoid his
regard. "They – are – horrible," she replied slowly, emphasizing
each word. "They are evil, Mr. Scudder. They are violent – to
women!"

"The curs!" Jake exclaimed. He held all
women in the highest regard and felt disgust for those who did not.
He swallowed his own brandy and topped up their glasses again.

Rosalind smiled and sipped her drink, then
turned and nodded at the bed. "Wouldn’t you like to be more
comfortable – Jake?"

Scudder reached over and patted the back of
her hand. "Rosalind, I still do not believe that you are as old as
you say. And I do not think that your way of life is doing you any
good. I do not want to sleep with you. In fact, I would like to
stake you some money so that you can get away from here."

Rosalind’s eyes lit up for a moment. Then
the light faded. "I have had men say things like that before. All
of the girls have, but nothing ever happens."

"How long have you worked here,
Rosalind?"

"A year. Miss Carmen is a good boss. She has
been kind to me."

Jake swallowed some more brandy then yawned,
suddenly feeling quite weary. "And what about those men? You told
me they were violent to women. Do you know anything else about
them?" He blinked and rubbed his eyes.

Rosalind yawned as well, then took another
drink. "I declare you are making me feel sleepy, Jake," she said
coquettishly. "They come and go. They have been in town before,
then left for months. Cattlemen, they claim to be, but I think –
"

"What do you think, Rosalind?"

"I think they – could be thieves," she
replied, stifling another yawn. "Rustlers, maybe."

Her eyes rolled upwards and she suddenly
fell backwards on the bed, her brandy glass tumbling from her hand
and rolling across the floor.

Jake felt his head begin to swim and he rose
unsteadily to his feet. "I – kind of – feel groggy – too!" he
murmured, staring suspiciously at his own half empty glass. Then he
staggered forward and collapsed on the bed beside Rosalind.

* * *

Nantan had done his job and then reported
back to the cellar where he had been told to meet his boss.

"Did they seem suspicious about anything?"
the boss demanded.

The impassive Nantan shook his head.

"And did you wait outside like I told you
to?"

Nantan nodded again. "I heard them talking.
He asked a lot of questions and she answered. I could not make out
all of her answers, except for one."

"Go on!"

"She said she thought they were
rustlers."

"Anything else?"

"No, they fell asleep."

The boss laughed. "How do you know
that?"

"There was the noise of them falling on the
bed, then nothing more. Normally those beds make many spring
noises, but not this time."

"You are a prize, Nantan!" And several
dollars passed from palm to palm.

* * *

Elly had wept for a while and then pulled
herself together, as was her way. She realized that things were
looking bad for the Rocking H, but if she was to salvage anything
from all this, it would be up to her. And that meant that she had
to think straight.

"Where is Jake?" she asked herself again and
again. And when he still hadn’t appeared two hours later she lay
down on the bed and tried to work out her next move. Almost
mercifully she fell into slumber. A slumber from which she was
rudely awakened by the noise of two shots from somewhere not too
far off.

She was awake instantly, her immediate
concern being that the shots could have something to do with Jake
Scudder. But then her reasoning mind took over and she realized
that in a railhead town like Silver City, such shooting in the
evening was probably related to some cowboy letting off steam, or
to some gambler celebrating a win at the tables. Either way it was
unlikely to have anything to do with Scudder. And so thinking she
dosed off again, fully expecting Jake Scudder to appear at some
point and waken her in the process.

She managed to fall into a deep sleep this
time and was only dimly aware of a light tap at the door. After a
few moments it was repeated by a louder and more persistent
knocking.

"Who . . . who is it?"

"Scudder," came the reply.

Elly rubbed her eyes as she slid off her bed
and crossed to the door. "Where have you been?" she asked as she
undid the lock. "I have been waiting for hours."

She opened the door a few inches, then was
surprised when it was forcefully pushed open.

"What the - ?" she began.

The black figure of Rubal Cage grinned at
her. "Actually, Scudder couldn’t make it – so he sent me."

Elly’s mouth opened as if to emit a scream.
But it never left her lips, for at that moment Rubal Cage’s fist
flashed up and caught her on the point of the chin, lifting her off
the floor and propelling her backwards into the room, where she
fell with a dull thud.

"Come on, you two," Cage snapped as he
entered the room.

When all three of them were inside, standing
around the unconscious figure of Elly Horrocks, Hog Fleming kicked
the door closed.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jake woke with a thundering headache as a
shaft of light from the new dawn shone through the gap in the cheap
curtains. His tongue felt as though it was stuck to the roof of his
mouth and he felt slightly nauseated. He was lying face down on the
bed beside the form of a girl whose bosom gently rose and fell mere
inches from his face.

"Rosalind," he said softly, more to himself
than to her, as he raised his head to gather his senses. He pushed
himself up from the bed, stretching and working his shoulders to
ease his aching muscles.

At the sound of her name, Rosalind awoke
with a start. "Wh . . . what happened?" she asked in some
confusion. "Weren’t we drinking –?"

Jake had picked up the errant glass that had
rolled across the floor and stood sniffing it. "We were drinking
drugged brandy," he replied, his jaw setting in a look of grim
determination. "And I am going to find out who was
responsible."

Rosalind’s eyes opened wide with alarm. "Not
Nantan?"

Jake shook his head. "He delivered it, but
it was sent up by your boss, Carmen de Menendez."

Rosalind gave an emphatic shake of her head.
"Miss Carmen wouldn’t do anything like that."

Jake poured water from the washing pitcher
into the large porcelain bowl on the dressing stand then sluiced it
over his face. He sniffed the pitcher to ensure that it too was not
drugged and then took a hefty swig to clean his mouth.

"I reckon that at this moment the main
question is, why were we drugged?"

"You don’t think it could have been those
two men?"

"That is possible, Rosalind," Jake replied.
He felt concerned for her, since she had clearly had a bad shock
the night before. "Now you can see why I think you need to get away
from this way of life. It's not healthy."

Rosalind bit her lower lip. "But I can't get
away from it. I have no money."

"I told you that I would stake you," he
returned. He pulled out a wad of notes from his back pocket and
peeled a number off. "This should be enough to buy a train ticket
for as far as you want to go. I have some business to sort out
first, then I’ll come back later today and put you on a train
myself."

Rosalind stared incredulously at the money.
"You’ll do that for me? But I have not done anything for you."

Jake gave her a wry smile. "Rosalind, I
think it's time you showed some faith in the human race. Not
everyone you meet is going to want something from you. I want you
to look at this money as your second chance. Take it."

And he reached for the door while Rosalind
continued to stare in disbelief at the money. "I will be ready,
Jake."

He nodded then left.

"I will never know how to thank you, Jake
Scudder," Rosalind whispered as she stared at the closed door.

* * *