Guns of Wrath Page 6

  ‘Let him go,’ Bannock said.

  ‘I didn’t mean to—’

  ‘I know. Me neither. But it ain’t gonna do nobody no good to carry this on. He’ll see things different soon enough.’

  ‘Maybe he’s got reason.’

  ‘Yeah, reckon he has. But so have you.’

  Briggs hesitated and then resumed his place by the fire.

  ‘Maybe things will look different in the mornin’,’ Bannock said. ‘I reckon the best thing we can do is get some sleep.’

  Chapter Four

  Corrina Stead and her brother Daniel got off the boat at Tidesville. Standing on the quay, waiting to meet them, was a tall, angular man with a white beard, wearing a frock coat-and a panama hat.

  ‘Uncle Winslow!’ Corrina cried on catching sight of him. ‘Uncle Winslow!’

  She waved her arms and he came forward to enfold her in a warm embrace. Then he shook hands with Daniel and, after seizing one of the cases with which Daniel had once again been engaged in a struggle, led the way to a Dearborn which stood nearby with its canvas sides pulled back. Once everyone was installed and the luggage hoisted on board, he took his seat and flicked the reins. The street was busy but the lightweight carriage weaved its way deftly through the crowds of people and traffic. From somewhere beyond the main street of the town a band was playing and, glancing to her left, Corrina had a glimpse of a field of tents and streaming flags.

  ‘Ain’t seen the place so busy in a long time,’ Uncle Winslow remarked.

  ‘How have you been keepin’?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Seein’ you two has made me feel a lot better,’ Uncle Winslow replied.

  ‘And Aunt Lucinda?’

  ‘She’s fine.’

  They had passed beyond the town limits and were driving through a rich countryside studded with farms. They turned up a tree-lined track which presently led under a sign reading LAZY ACRE and then, round a slight bend in the road, the farm-house emerged. It was a small, white-painted building set among locust trees with a flaking barn behind it, and a well. In front the yard was kept clean but off to the side a number of chickens scuttled about in the mud and a few pigs squealed in a pen.

  ‘Oh, I love this place,’ Corrina cried.

  On the porch of the house an elderly lady wearing a purple taffeta dress and with her hair drawn tight in a bun appeared; as the Dearborn stopped she rushed forward.

  ‘Corrina!’ she cried. ‘And Daniel. It does my eyes good to see you.’

  As soon as they had stepped from the coach, Corrina and her brother were ushered into the house. A youngster of about eighteen appeared from the direction of the barn.

  ‘Harlin, take charge of the horse. See she gets a good feed,’ Uncle Winslow said. ‘When you’ve put the wagon away, bring the luggage up to the house.’

  ‘Sure, Mr Clayburne.’

  Clayburne patted the horse and then went inside. His wife was already serving coffee with some biscuits and cakes she had made.

  ‘When we’ve had a chance to chat,’ she said, ‘I’ll take you up to your rooms. Lords-a-mercy, I swear you two have grown.’

  Corrina laughed. ‘I hope not, Aunty,’ she said. ‘I’m nearly twenty now and I hope I’m full growed.’ She turned to her brother. ‘And he’s not far behind.’

  ‘I’m sure you make a fine young man and a fine young woman. Don’t you think so, Winslow?’

  ‘Your father must be plumb proud of you both,’ replied Uncle Winslow.

  ‘When you’ve finished, I’ll show you to your rooms, and then I wouldn’t mind bettin’ you’ll be wantin’ to get on down to the fair.’

  Corrina grinned and nodded her head.

  ‘If you don’t mind us rushin’ straight off.’

  ‘Of course not. That’s just what we figured.’

  ‘We got a couple of horses saddled up and waitin’,’ Uncle Winslow said. ‘Figured you might appreciate a ride.’

  ‘Are you not comin?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Not this time. Thought I’d leave you two young folks to enjoy yourselves.’

  ‘And I’ll have a good hot meal waitin’ for you when you get back. With flapjacks for supper.’

  Corrina put her cup down and went over to squeeze her aunt.

  ‘Now just you go easy on an old lady,’ said Lucinda.

  There was a knock on the door.

  ‘Come on in,’ Winslow shouted.

  The door opened and Harlin came in with the cases.

  ‘Here, I’ll take them now,’ Daniel said.

  Together, they hoisted the cases upstairs. Corrina and her aunt followed behind. Neither Corrina nor her brother needed to be shown their rooms. They had been there before and Corrina knew just what to expect. There were flowers in vases and a beautiful patchwork quilt lay across the bed. New curtains fluttered in the slight breeze from the partly opened window.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ Corrina said.

  ‘I’ll leave you to make yourself comfortable,’ Aunt Lucinda said.

  When she had gone Corrina sat at the dressing-table and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed and she felt excited, but there was something else written on her features. She found herself thinking again of the man who had come to her rescue on the boat. Not for the first time she recalled his blue eyes. There was something about him, but she didn’t know what. She had not seen him again. That was strange. Hadn’t he said that he was getting off at Tidesville? She suddenly thought it would have been nice to introduce him to her uncle. But why? She had barely met him. She realized with regret that she didn’t even know his name.

  Her thoughts moved on. She had seen nothing, either, of her molester. She suddenly shivered. The incident had upset her more than she had thought. Unwillingly, she began to wonder what had become of him too. What if he had got off the boat at Tidesville? But then surely she would have noticed. She was being foolish. It had been a minor incident and she shouldn’t be giving it more significance than it warranted. Should she have told her brother? On the whole, she was glad she hadn’t.

  She picked up a comb, and began to brush her hair; presently she was comforted by the sounds of her brother moving in the next room. She started to think about the fair. They would both enjoy the ride to town.

  After galloping out of camp, Comfort headed for the trail leading back towards Greenoak. The town was asleep. Not a light showed as he passed close by. He was feeling bitter and angry and didn’t have any plan in mind other than to head back to Cayuse Landing. He rode hard for a while until common sense returned sufficiently for him to realize that he was pushing the horse too hard; he slowed down first to a canter and then to a walk. He had a long way to go. His brain was a welter of thoughts and impressions. Daylight came and he rode on. About mid-morning he drew rein and slid from the saddle. He set the horse to graze while he built himself a smoke.

  So Briggs was out of the game. What did it matter? He would find Laidler himself. He had let Briggs down once. That made it all the more incumbent upon him to do things right now. He finished the cigarette and rolled another. He felt calmer and the faint sounds of the river rolling away off to his right reached his ears with a soothing murmur.

  His eyelids felt heavy and they were beginning to close when he thought he heard another sound. Instantly he was alert, listening closely. At first he could hear nothing and thought he must be mistaken when it came again – the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Quickly he was on his feet. He moved to the horse, took hold of the reins and led it to the shelter of some trees. Then he withdrew the Winchester from its scabbard and, after glancing about him and taking stock of the landscape, secreted himself behind a clump of bushes.

  The sounds of galloping hoofs grew steadily louder. He reckoned there were at least two horsemen. Maybe they were just a couple of riders passing harmlessly along the trail, but his recent experiences with Wilder and his men had made him more careful. Presently the riders came into view, coming towards him along the trail he had been riding.
He was right; there were two of them, one slightly in front of the other who was leading an extra horse. He was looking at the ground and Comfort had a sudden conviction that they were following his sign. He hefted the rifle. Could Wilder have found out already what had happened to his boys at Bannock’s shack and got on to their trail so quickly? It seemed very unlikely.

  Then he reflected that if they were two of Wilder’s gunnies, they were coming from the wrong direction. They seemed to have slowed down and it was taking them an age to cover the remaining distance. The sun was getting warm and a slight miasma, rising from the river, seemed to hang in the air. They were getting closer and he raised the rifle in readiness. For a moment he held it to his shoulder, then he put it down again. He had recognized the two riders. They were Bannock and Briggs. For a moment he considered letting them ride by but as they came almost abreast of his position, he stepped out from the trees. Bannock was in front. Instinctively his hand went towards his gun, then he recognized Comfort. He reined in his horse and Briggs did likewise.

  ‘What took you so long?’ Comfort said.

  ‘You son of a gun, you could have got yourself killed.’

  ‘I’d say it was the other way round,’ Comfort replied. ‘It’s plumb lucky for you I ain’t one of Wilder’s boys.’

  Bannock slid from the saddle. ‘Funny you should say that,’ he said.

  Behind them, Briggs dismounted and walked forward.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Comfort asked.

  ‘We figured it was just possible you might have stayed in town, so we rode through. The marshal wasn’t too pleased to see us.’

  ‘He was up and about plumb early,’ observed Comfort.

  ‘There’d been trouble. Some cowboys hit town and caused a rumpus. Him and his deputy got things calmed down. They persuaded the troublemakers to leave town but they figured they’d best wait around. I figure he didn’t get any sleep last night,’ Bannock told him.

  ‘What’s this got to do with me?’

  ‘The marshal took a look at their horses. They were carryin’ a Lazy Acre brand. The Lazy Acre is near Tidesville. Could be horse rustlin’ is another one of Wilder’s sidelines.’

  ‘Wilder again. Greenoak is a long ways from Wilder’s spread. I wonder what they were doin’ this far south?’

  ‘That’s what the marshal was wonderin’ too. He’s heard plenty about Wilder and even had a brush with some of his riders before.’

  ‘Why did he tell you this?’ Comfort asked.

  The oldster shrugged. ‘He didn’t exactly say so, but I reckon he maybe thought we had somethin’ to do with it.’

  ‘He didn’t mince his words,’ Briggs said. ‘He made it mighty clear he don’t want to see any of us again.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Bannock concluded. ‘He didn’t exactly invite us to stay around for breakfast.’

  ‘There’s an idea,’ Comfort said. ‘Have you folks eaten this mornin’?’

  ‘Nope. Got straight on your tail.’

  ‘Me neither and I’m sure beginnin’ to feel hungry.’

  ‘What about Wilder’s boys?’ Bannock said.

  Comfort turned and looked at him.

  ‘You figure they’re after us? If so, they haven’t wasted any time.’

  ‘I been thinkin’ it over and I don’t think there’s a connection. I don’t see how they could have got down here so quick.’

  ‘How many were there?’

  ‘Three.’

  ‘I don’t see it either,’ Comfort said. ‘Still, if they’re around some place, we’d better be on the watch.’

  Bannock licked his lips. ‘Sure could put away some grub,’ he said.

  They set about preparing breakfast. While they did so, they remained silent. Comfort was feeling awkward. So far nobody had referred to the previous night’s dispute and Comfort felt he had behaved badly. After they had eaten and were putting away a mug or two of thick black coffee, he turned to Briggs.

  ‘I reckon I owe you an apology,’ he said. ‘Guess I just kinda got too worked up about things.’

  ‘Hell, no need to apologize,’ Briggs said.

  ‘I don’t agree with what you said and I still intend lookin’ for Laidler, but I got no right to expect you to think the same way as me.’

  He turned to Bannock and then back to Briggs. ‘And I sure appreciate you takin’ the time to come on after me.’

  ‘I’m not certain I thanked you two for gettin’ me out of that jail,’ Briggs said.

  ‘You almost ended up back inside,’ Bannock joked. ‘I wouldn’t like to face that marshal when he gets really mad.’

  ‘Hell,’ Briggs said. ‘Seems to me we’re getting mighty apologetic. Next thing there’ll be an angel choir playin’ on their harps if we ain’t careful. Isn’t it about time we got back on the trail?’

  Comfort regarded him doubtfully.

  ‘I been thinkin’ too,’ Briggs continued. ‘Figure I’ve had about enough of muskrat huntin’. I ain’t changed my mind about Laidler, but if you’re agreeable, I figure I’d ride along with you. For the time bein’ at least.’

  Comfort smiled. ‘It’d be an honour,’ he said. ‘Glad to have you along.’

  ‘Which way now?’ Bannock said.

  ‘You got a shack standin’ empty,’ Comfort replied. ‘I reckon that’s where we head and then take things from there.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ the oldster responded. ‘After all, you didn’t get much of a chance to get acquainted with the place last time.’

  It was late. Miss Annie and Jenny had not long returned from the Crystal Arcade and Annie was making a snack for them to eat before turning in for the night. Since living with Annie, Jenny seemed to have recovered something of her old self. It helped that nothing had been seen of Wilder since the day his treatment of Jenny had led to Annie taking her in.

  ‘Would you like coffee?’ Annie called.

  ‘No. Better not,’ Jenny replied.

  Annie looked out of the window. Behind the kitchen garden lay a small stretch of grass backed by a fence, on the other side of which was a broad alley with a barn facing it. Beyond the barn was open country with a rough track leading eventually to the river. The kitchen was quite dark, only the light of a lamp providing illumination, and as she peered out she thought she saw something moving.

  She opened the back door, moved to the fence and leaned on it. She could hear muffled hoofbeats and as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she discerned a couple of riders coming along the track. It was but little used, since the best way to the river was through the town, and she was immediately suspicious. She turned away, went quickly back inside and doused the lamp. She paused for a moment, wondering what to say to the girl that wouldn’t scare her, but there was no time for hesitancy. The riders were approaching fast. She went through the door into the living room and turned down the lamps there too.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Jenny said.

  ‘Probably nothing, but there’s two men approaching through the meadow and it don’t hurt to be careful.’

  ‘Two men?’ Jenny immediately became agitated. ‘You don’t think. . . ?’

  ‘I don’t think anything. Go upstairs.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘Don’t waste time. Just go upstairs and keep out of sight.’

  Jenny rose to her feet and rushed to the stairs. She slipped as she ran up them but quickly recovered. Annie heard the door of Jenny’s room close. Quickly, she reached into a drawer and took a derringer which she placed in a pocket of her dress. Then she glided to the window and peered out.

  The prospect was empty and deserted. She withdrew behind the curtains but after a moment held them back a fraction to look out again. Still no sign of anybody. Suddenly she jumped at a loud rapping on the back door. She stood against the wall. The rapping was repeated. She realized that she was holding her breath, as if anyone outside could hear the slightest suggestion of a sound. There was a pause and she was beginning to hope that whoever it was ha
d decided to go away when there came a loud thud followed by a second and a third. She realized that someone was attempting to kick the door down. If she had had any doubts about the intentions of the riders, she had none now. Whoever they were, they were out for trouble. The kicking at the door continued and the door began to splinter. She realized that there was no point now in hiding. She needed to be bold and do something. With a glance towards the ceiling, she moved forward and turned up the lamp.

  ‘Who is it?’ she called. ‘Hold on, I’m coming.’

  She took the lamp in her hand and walked through the door into the kitchen as another kick shook the door.

  ‘Stop that!’ she called. ‘I’m opening the door.’

  She put the lamp down and fumbled at the bolt. The door was badly splintered and wouldn’t survive another couple of kicks anyway. She drew the bolt and before she could do or say anything, the door flew open and two men advanced inside. Despite the dim light, she recognized one of them as one of Wilder’s boys, a regular at the Crystal Arcade, named Carl Sabin. Neither of them had spoken so far.

  ‘What is the meaning of this?’ she said.

  The men smelt of drink and stale tobacco.

  ‘Sabin, answer me. Just what do you think you’re doing?’

  She was standing in front of Sabin. By way of reply he swung his arm, sweeping her aside. Followed by the other man, he clattered through into the living room.

  ‘Where’s Jenny?’ he said.

  ‘Jenny? If she’s not at the Crystal Arcade, I don’t know where she is. I don’t see what business it is of yours, either.’

  ‘It’s Mr Wilder’s business. He wants Jenny and he wants her now.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’ Annie was trying desperately to think of something which might deter the intruders. ‘There are other girls. Why would Mr Wilder be wanting Jenny?’

  Sabin shrugged.

  ‘Come on,’ he said to the other man. ‘She’s got to be upstairs.’