Way of the Gun Page 9

  Latham narrowed his eyes on him. ‘Have I ever double-crossed you, Ira? In any way?’

  ‘Can’t say you have.’

  ‘Haven’t I made you a lot of money since we started riding together?’

  Sloan sighed. ‘We’ve done pretty well.’

  ‘I’ve got big plans, Ira. The Old Fort thing is out now. But the banks are even richer other places. I promise you, stick with me and I’ll make you rich.’

  ‘Three makes a crowd, Duke, if you get her back.’

  Latham rose from his chair, and stood over Sloan. ‘Let me talk plain to you, Ira. I’d take it as a personal insult if you left me at this crucial time. An act of disloyalty.’ In a menacing tone.

  Sloan stared up at him. ‘Are you threatening me, Duke? Me, Ira?’

  ‘Make it as you wish. But I need you now. Like you’ve needed me so many times before. Tell you what. Ride with me till I find her and you can do what you want then. I won’t oppose you.’

  Sloan sat there. ‘I could shoot you in your sleep, you know.’

  ‘You’re not the type,’ Latham said, with a small grin.

  Sloan blew his cheeks out. ‘All right. Maybe I do owe you. But when you find her, it’s over, Duke.’

  Latham nodded. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. But it’s OK. Now, let’s get those animals saddled up. You get some grub together, for the trail. Then we’re out of here. There’s a lot of riding time left today.’

  Sloan rose heavily. ‘Right, I’ll be ready within the half-hour.’

  Several hours later the sky was getting dark. Sumner and Dulcie had ridden hard to put some distance between them and Latham. They came to a junction of trails, and Sumner reined up. Dulcie came up beside him.

  ‘Are we making camp?’ she wondered.

  He was looking off to the west, along the other trail. ‘No. How are you doing?’

  ‘You ride hard. I’m pretty tired.’

  ‘You’re doing fine. Let’s get off the trail and give the horses a short rest.’

  He led her over to a clump of saplings and they dismounted there. They went and leaned against a couple of mesquites together.

  ‘Will he come after you?’ Sumner asked her.

  She nodded. She had her auburn hair in a braid behind her head, and looked very young to him. Her cheeks were flushed from the precipitous departure. ‘I think so.’

  ‘So do I. That’s why we rode so hard.’

  She arched her back and stretched: ‘You got there just in time. He planned to marry me in the next few days. I’d have been in his bed every night.’ She sneaked a look at him to see his reaction.

  He was impassive. ‘You have some colour under your eye. Did he do that?’

  ‘He beat me regularly. He’s kind of crazy about things being just right. If I didn’t do things just the way he wanted, I’d often get physically beaten. Sometimes he even used his fist. Or a strap.’

  Sumner looked sombre. He had made the right decision back there, to put Dulcie’s welfare first. ‘Did he . . . molest you?’

  She shook her head. ‘For some reason, I think he was saving me for his marriage to me.’

  ‘What about the others?’

  ‘Duke kept them off me. Weeks brought another man in one day, though, and things started happening. But Duke came back with Sloan. That other man ended up buried behind the house.’

  Sumner was shaking his head. ‘Sorry about all that. But it could have been much worse, as I’m sure you know. I’m glad I came.’

  She gave him a big smile. ‘So am I.’

  ‘Now it’s up to me to see that you get back to Provost safe. Till we ride on to that ranch together, I want you to stick to me like glue. I don’t want you out of my sight. Understand?’

  Dulcie looked him over good for the first time. She liked the looks of him. She gave him a very lovely smile. ‘That sounds very nice.’

  He didn’t respond. Over thirty, he considered her a child. And he pushed it out of his head that she looked like a woman. A very desirable one.

  ‘Latham will think we’re heading straight north, on this route that brought us all here. So I’m turning west now to throw him off. There’s a little town west of here most of a day’s ride called Post Supply. A cow trail goes through there also going north, but quite a distance from here. We’ll take that route north.’

  The smile faded on Dulcie’s pretty face. ‘Well, wait a minute. We’d be losing a day to put that many more miles between us and him. I want to get as far north as I can as fast as I can.’

  Sumner was beginning to learn what Latham already knew. She was a girl who knew her own mind. She had been raised that way by Provost.

  He sighed. ‘Dulcie. You’re not back on that ranch yet. You’re in my charge now. You do what I tell you till we get back. And we might just get there.’

  She stuck her chin out. ‘Well, I have a say in this. I’m your boss’s daughter, you know. And I feel safer continuing north. Otherwise, we’re giving the ground back that we’ve just ridden so hard to gain.’

  He gave her a narrow look. ‘First of all, your daddy isn’t my boss. And second, this isn’t a democracy where you get a vote. From now on till we get back to Nebraska, I call the shots. If you give me trouble, I’ll tie you up till we get there.’

  Dulcie frowned heavily. ‘Now you sound like Duke Latham.’

  He sighed. ‘Get mounted,’ he told her. ‘We’re riding on. West.’

  Dulcie hesitated, then mounted her horse. ‘You’re a bully,’ she commented. ‘Are you an ex-lawman?’

  He got on the stallion. He looked over at her, figuring she might as well know. ‘I hunt down men like Latham for the rewards on them.’

  Her face changed. ‘Oh. Do you turn them in to the authorities?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Ever?’

  ‘Ever.’

  She looked him over again as if for the first time. ‘Oh, God!’

  ‘Let’s go, Dulcie. We still have a lot of ground to cover tonight.’

  Almost three hours later, Latham and Sloan were galloping towards that intersection at full speed, taking almost no notice of crossroads. But Sumner and Dulcie were already halfway to Post Supply.

  It was just past two in the morning when Sumner reined in about a half-mile short of Post Supply. They could see the outskirts of the small town ahead of them on the trail.

  Dulcie was slumping in her saddle, worn out. ‘Why are we stopping? There’s the town up ahead.’

  ‘We’re not going in. Not tonight,’ he said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘If we didn’t fool Latham, he’ll ask about us there. We’ll make hardship camp over by that little creek there.’

  ‘Make camp? I’m ready to fall off my horse. I need a bed to sleep in tonight! I deserve it, damn it, after what you’ve put me through!’

  Sumner regarded her soberly, and his voice softened. ‘Of course you do. Don’t you think I know that? You’ve been great, Dulcie. You’ve got grit, and I like that. But every move we make now is a life or death decision.’

  Dulcie sighed. ‘Oh, God.’

  But she followed him over to the stream where there was a stand of young poplars, and they made camp. Sumner did most of the work, but she put a coffee pot on the fire, and Sumner had some hardtack in his saddle-bag – and that was it. They sat on their saddles by the fire, but when Sumner reached for the pot, she saw him grimace slightly, and then she saw the blood on his shirt where Weeks had shot him.

  ‘Oh, my God! You’re hurt!’

  He looked down at his shirt. ‘Oh. It’s nothing. It’s scabbing over already.’

  ‘Weeks?’

  He nodded. ‘Fortunately he’s not much of a shot.’

  Once again, Dulcie was staring hard at him. For the first time she began to understand the danger he had placed himself in, to rescue her. ‘I’m . . . sorry. I guess I kind of took you for granted. That was dumb of me.’

  He sipped at his coffee. ‘I’m being well pai
d, Dulcie.’

  ‘Even so,’ she said. She sipped her coffee quietly. ‘I owe you my life.’

  ‘Why don’t we hold off judgment on that?’ he smiled at her.

  ‘I don’t even know your first name.’

  ‘It’s Wesley. I rarely hear it called.’

  She looked at him over her coffee cup. ‘You’re very good-looking, you know.’

  He laughed lightly. ‘That’s about the last way anybody else would describe me.’

  ‘How do most people see you?’

  ‘Well, the first thing they see is this Peacemaker I wear. And then they try to remember the things they’ve heard about the way I use it.’

  A little thrill of awe rippled through her. ‘Are you that good with it?’

  ‘Nobody’s beaten me yet. Now let’s change the subject.’

  ‘I think I see why Papa hired you.’

  ‘We just ran on to each other. When he was out looking for you.’

  She looked into the fire. ‘I acted like a kid back there.’

  ‘You are a kid.’

  ‘I’ll be more co-operative. I promise.’

  ‘That will help,’ he told her.

  ‘Do you really see me as a kid?’ With a seductive smile.

  He studied her for a moment. ‘As Latham noticed, you’re physically grown up, Dulcie. But that doesn’t make you a woman. Not yet.’

  She was disappointed. ‘Don’t you think I’m pretty?’

  He shook his head. ‘Dulcie. Forget your looks and start giving serious thought to survival. Your life may depend on it.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  He put their bedrolls out a little later and they got a few much needed hours of sleep before the sun rose in colourful hues in the morning.

  They rode right through Post Supply that morning. It was a dry, dusty little town just south of the border with Kansas. There was a saloon and a hotel, but Sumner had no intention of stopping at either of them. He did stop at a small general store, letting Dulcie wait outside, and bought some provisions for the trail – matches, lard, beef jerky, coffee, and a few tinned goods. He bought Dulcie a vest to wear over her blouse, for warmth. He also had a jacket he could lend her.

  Nobody paid any attention to them in town, and they were out on the trail again within the hour, but this time turning north. There was no unnecessary banter between them when they were riding: Sumner cut her off any time she began a conversation. It was particularly important to make good ground now since they had taken the detour west.

  When Latham and Sloan had reached the crossroad where Sumner and Dulcie had turned off, they went galloping past it without giving it any notice. Latham was certain that Dulcie and her captor must be just ahead somewhere, and that he would be catching them at any moment. In another hour though, he began to have doubts. They had passed a couple of towns on their wild ride, but avoided them just as he figured his pursued quarry would.

  Now, at about the time that Sumner and Dulcie were riding out of Post Supply, Latham dusted to a stop near the same small stream he had camped beside on his way south. He and Sloan had ridden all night, and Sloan was fatigued and irritated.

  Latham slid off his mount, tore his hat off, and threw it on to the ground. Sloan watched him sullenly from his horse.

  ‘That little bitch! Where is she?’

  ‘I need some sleep,’ Sloan said bitterly. ‘You drove us all night, and what did it get us? They didn’t come this way.’

  ‘What?’ Latham barked out.

  ‘We’d have caught them by now. They’re not on this trail. Unless they’re bold enough to stop in one of them towns we passed up.’

  ‘Whoever this is, if he was smart enough to find us, he wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘They could have gone south,’ Sloan said, dismounting. ‘He could have arranged with Provost to wire him from Mexico. Or Austin. So Provost could come with a small army to get her.’

  ‘Their tracks headed out north.’

  ‘That could have been a ruse. I’m just saying. They could be anywhere. They’re sure as hell not in front of us. I said I’d stick it out till you found her, Duke. But this is ridiculous. We have no clue. Look, things are different now. Let’s give it up and ride up to Dodge. I know a couple of people there that could get us a fresh start there in Kansas.’

  Latham fairly yelled at him. ‘I’m not interested in making a new start, goddam it! Not till this is over!’

  Sloan slumped into himself, and leaned against his mount’s flanks, which were foamy with sweat. ‘You don’t need her, Duke.’

  Latham looked out over the trail. ‘I know that now.’

  Sloan squinted down at him. ‘What?’

  ‘I no longer want to marry that little baby Provost. When we catch her, I’m going to put one in her. Then I’ll wire Provost and tell him where he can come and get her.’

  Sloan was studying him sombrely. ‘You mean that?’

  ‘I’ll still have my payback to Provost. Maybe this will even be better. He’ll have to bury his only kid.’

  ‘And I was beginning to think you had a thing for her.’

  ‘You were right. Taking her to bed got all mixed up with getting back at Provost. I went a little crazy. But that wasn’t the real Duke Latham. What you see before you now, is. Now – I think he took a different route north.’

  Sloan nodded. He was energized, thinking this might be over soon, and without having to put up with the girl as a live-in. ‘Come to think of it, if I was him I might have gone a more westerly route. There are more towns on the way, and they wouldn’t be afraid to use them because we wouldn’t be behind them.’

  ‘We’ll try to get a little sleep. Then we’re riding west,’ Latham announced. ‘I’ve also got a strong hunch that’s where we’ll find them. Then it will be the end of the trail for that little Provost puppy.’

  ‘That suits me right down to my boots,’ Sloan muttered.

  It was a long day later when Sumner and Dulcie rode into Cimarron, Kansas. They had left the Territory about midday, and Dulcie hoped she never saw it again.

  Cimarron was a sizeable town west of Dodge City, on a cow trail. There were a couple of decent hotels, several saloons, and a number of stores and shops. Women were walking the main street under parasols, and carriages and buggies moved up and down the dusty thoroughfare. It was late afternoon and too early for cowboy festivities in the saloons, so the town appeared quite tranquil.

  They needed more provisions for the trail, and Sumner decided to purchase ammunition for the Colt he carried, so he reined up before a small general store.

  ‘I’ll have to buy some things in here,’ he told Dulcie. ‘Then we’ll be riding on through.’

  Dulcie was heavily fatigued. She took her hat off and wiped at her forehead. Even under these circumstances she looked very pretty. She turned to Sumner with a frown. ‘Duke might be over in Wichita by now,’ she complained. ‘Why can’t we stop overnight at that nice hotel across the street?’

  Sumner dismounted, looking very dangerous in his dark clothes and the Peacemaker on his hip. Two women were approaching on the board sidewalk, and when they got a look at him, they crossed the street. He was feeling out of sorts, nurse-maiding Dulcie and trying to make good time on the trail, and he looked tough and belligerent. He looked up at Dulcie in irritation.

  ‘I told you, Dulcie. It’s dangerous to be seen at a hotel or saloon. That’s where Latham would ask. And we have no idea where he is. He could be right behind us by an hour or two. That’s why I don’t camp near the trail. We only have to make one mistake, and it could be over for you. It’s your life that’s on the line. Don’t forget that.’

  She sighed heavily. ‘Maybe you’re being unnecessarily careful.’

  ‘Well, that’s something that’s on me. You have no say-so in it.’ Before she could respond he hitched the stallion and went into the store.

  Dulcie swore mildly under her breath and dismounted. A moment later she was up on the narrow porch of the s
tore and leaning against the façade there. She was hot, her face flushed a little. She removed her hat again and her auburn hair shone in the late sun. Around her face it was damp.

  Two drifters emerged from a saloon a short distance away, and were talking and laughing as they approached her. They looked like rough types, with worn clothing and guns on their hips. The tall, lanky one of the two spotted Dulcie when they came nearer, and nudged his heavier partner.

  ‘Hey. Look at that! I didn’t see nothing like that in the saloon.’

  A big grin from the hefty man. ‘I wonder if she’s friendly.’

  They walked on up to Dulcie, and she noticed them for the first time. She looked them over with disdain.

  ‘Hi, honey,’ the tall fellow grinned at her. ‘What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?’

  Despite her fatigue, a little tension built in her. ‘I’m waiting for a friend,’ she said quietly. Looking at them, visions of Latham and his men flitted darkly through her head. ‘Now please move on.’

  The hefty one grunted out a laugh. ‘Waiting for a friend? I don’t give that credence, sweetheart. I think you was waiting for us.’

  They were in her face now, very close, and she was becoming very uncomfortable. ‘I asked you to leave,’ she said tightly. ‘If you won’t, I will.’ She started past the tall man towards the door of the store. But he stepped into her path.

  ‘Now just a minute, darling. We want to talk a minute, and you’re being downright rude to us. Say, you’re a young one, ain’t you? We like them young, don’t we, Gus?’

  ‘The younger the juicier,’ Gus grinned. She could smell alcohol on his breath.

  ‘Let me past!’ she exclaimed then, trying to push past the tall man.

  But he caught her arm and held it in a vice-like grip, hurting her. ‘Why don’t we take a little walk together, honey? Out in back of this building here. We just want to talk.’

  ‘Let go of me!’ she cried out. ‘Wesley!’

  ‘Who?’ the tall man frowned.

  ‘She’s just making him up,’ Gus ventured, grinning.

  But in a moment Sumner emerged from the store, stared hard at them, and turned to face them. A few paces away. Looking grim and deadly.