Guns of Wrath Page 7

  As the men moved to the foot of the stairs, Annie darted forward and stood in their way.

  ‘I tell you, she’s not here.’

  ‘We know she is. We know you been hidin’ her.’

  Sabin swung his fist and hit Annie in the mouth. She felt blood ooze out as she fell backwards on the stair. Sabin was already past her when she drew the derringer, but before she could fire it the other man had kicked it out of her hand. He picked it up and stamped past her. She made a desperate grab for his leg and he shook it in an effort to escape her clutch. Grimly she held on as she heard a thud from upstairs followed by the sound of splintering wood and then a shrill scream.

  ‘Leave me go, you bitch!’ the man snarled.

  At the same time he raised the derringer and brought it crashing down on Annie’s head. She let go her grasp as a wave of pain and nausea enveloped her. She heard another scream from upstairs and then the sounds of a scuffle. Her attacker had reached the head of the stairs. Summoning her remaining strength, Annie began to climb the stairs. Before she had reached the top the men emerged carrying Jenny who was screaming and kicking her legs. Sabin’s boot swung and Miss Annie’s head jolted back as she went tumbling down the stairs. She lay at the bottom in a crumpled heap as the men brushed past her. She heard the back door slam and then the sound of horses galloping away into the night. She began to struggle to her feet as a black tide swept over her and she was no longer conscious of anything.

  Even before he arrived at his shack, Bannock sensed that something was wrong.

  ‘How do you mean?’ Briggs asked.

  Bannock tapped his stomach.

  ‘I can feel it here,’ he said. ‘It’s just a kinda extry sense.’

  ‘More like that meat an’ gravy you cooked up last night,’ Comfort replied.

  All the way up they had been on the lookout for any of Wilder’s boys, but they had seen nothing of them and Comfort, for one, was fairly convinced that their presence in Greenoak had been coincidental. Bannock agreed but when he mentioned it to Briggs he seemed curiously non-committal.

  When they arrived at the clearing all Bannock’s forebodings were justified. Nothing remained of the shack but a burned-out ruin. The oldster got down from his horse, and poked about among piles of scarred wood and cinders. As he kicked his way through the mess, clouds of ash rose like ghosts of the dead building.

  ‘Guess I had it comin’,’ he said. ‘I coulda guessed that when Wilder found out what happened to the Drewitts, he wouldn’t wait around to get his revenge.’

  ‘I’m real sorry,’ Comfort said.

  ‘The more I see and hear of this Wilder hombre, the less I like him,’ Briggs muttered.

  ‘It don’t matter,’ Bannock said. ‘That shack never amounted to a hill of beans. I can build another.’

  They looked about them. There were still traces of hoofprints and some dried-out droppings.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Bannock asked.

  Comfort had been doing some quick thinking. On the way up from Greenoak they had passed close by the town of Tidesville and Comfort had felt a quickening of the pulse. His rational self told him that there was no chance of seeing Corrina Stead, but the mere fact that she was associated in his imagination with the settlement was enough to create that strange frisson of expectation. He found himself thinking of the occasion of their meeting when they had boarded the river boat. That had been at Willow, which was the next town from Bannock’s shack. They had also passed near Cayuse Landing. He had been tempted to look up Miss Annie but that could wait. At some point, he thought, he might either pay a visit to Tidesville or continue to Willow. But either of those options would have to wait too.

  ‘Ain’t much we can do right now,’ Comfort said. ‘We been doin’ a lot of ridin’. This ain’t what we expected, but I guess it’s as good a spot as any to set up camp.’

  ‘Sorry I can’t offer you boys somethin’ better in the way of hospitality,’ Bannock commented.

  Late that evening, having attended to the horses and eaten, they sat around the campfire. The night was full of sounds; the rippling of the stream, the soughing of the wind in the treetops, the hoot of an owl. Suddenly a new sound insinuated itself into Bannock’s ears and he sat up.

  ‘What is it?’ Comfort said.

  ‘Can’t make it out. Sounds like wheels.’

  ‘I can’t hear anything,’ Briggs said.

  Comfort listened carefully before addressing Bannock.

  ‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘For an oldster, you got pretty sharp ears.’

  ‘There! That was surely a horse.’

  ‘What? Do you reckon it’s Wilder’s boys again?’

  Briggs was on his feet, his six-gun in his hand. Comfort reached for his rifle. They were both surprised to see a broad grin spread itself across the oldster’s face. Somehow, his front teeth looked especially prominent.

  ‘No need to get excited,’ he said. ‘Unless I’m way wrong, that’s the sound of the Reverend Bent’s wagon.’

  Briggs still looked apprehensive but he was persuaded to put his gun away. They waited while the sounds grew louder so that they all could hear them. After a time a dark shape lumbered into sight and the sound of a voice rang out.

  ‘Ho there! I come in peace.’

  ‘Howdy, Reverend,’ Bannock called back.

  The wagon came close, stopping just outside the circle of light cast by the flames, and the Reverend Bent stepped down.

  ‘Figured it might be you,’ he said to Bannock. ‘A mighty shame about your cabin.’

  ‘Come and join us,’ Bannock said. ‘You know Mr Comfort. Let me introduce another friend: Mr Briggs.’

  Briggs and the reverend shook hands.

  ‘Briggs,’ the reverend repeated. ‘Would this be the Mr Briggs I mentioned to you?’

  ‘The very same,’ Comfort said.

  Briggs looked confused.

  ‘It was the reverend who put us in the way of findin’ you,’ Comfort explained.

  ‘In that case, I’m in your debt,’ Briggs observed. ‘If it hadn’t been for these two, I’d be in jail right now.’

  ‘Ah! Are we not enjoined to set the prisoner free?’

  ‘I don’t know about that, but it sure worked in this case.’

  Comfort, who was watching closely, thought Bent looked particularly closely at Briggs. He opened his mouth as though to say something more, but if he had been about to speak, he was prevented by an interruption from the oldster.

  ‘I figure you could use some coffee?’

  The reverend turned away from Briggs.

  ‘I’d be obliged.’ Bent made a difficult job of sitting down. ‘Rheumatism,’ he said. ‘My own thorn in the flesh. In this case, the knees.’

  He stretched his legs out.

  ‘The flesh is weak,’ he commented.

  ‘What are you doin’ here, Reverend?’ Bannock said.

  ‘About the Lord’s work, as always. What does the Good Book say? Take nothing for the journey but a staff only.’

  Bannock handed him a cup of coffee. The reverend swallowed a mouthful and spluttered.

  ‘That sure tastes good,’ he said.

  For a moment they lapsed into silence, then Comfort offered the reverend his pouch of tobacco. When Bent had built a smoke he lit it from the fire.

  ‘Have you any idea what happened here?’ Comfort said.

  The reverend shook his head.

  ‘Last time I came by, it was still standin’. But it don’t make no difference whether I saw anythin’ or not. We all know who done it.’

  ‘You mean Wilder?’

  ‘I understood you boys were already runnin’ from him, the first time I met you.’

  ‘We weren’t runnin’,’ Comfort said.

  ‘Mr Comfort has other business,’ Bannock added.

  Comfort looked at him, wondering whether there was a hint of facetiousness in his comment.

  ‘Would that be the same business made him seek out Mr Briggs?’ t
he reverend enquired.

  Comfort leaned forward and topped up his cup of coffee. He offered to do the same for Bent.

  ‘That’s good coffee,’ the reverend repeated.

  Comfort put the battered coffee pot back on its tripod over the flames. As he did so he observed that Briggs was sitting forward, looking towards Bent with apparent interest.

  ‘That was a fine meetin’, Reverend,’ he said. ‘The one I was at down Greenoak way. I got to say your words really affected me.’

  ‘Hallelujah!’ Bent said. ‘Not all the seed falls on stony ground.’

  ‘You found religion?’ Comfort asked.

  ‘I found that it weren’t worth wastin’ any more time on the likes of Laidler.’

  At the mention of Laidler the reverend suddenly sat up.

  ‘Laidler,’ he said. ‘Did you say Laidler?’

  Comfort turned to him. ‘Does the name mean somethin’ to you?’

  The reverend seemed to draw back.

  ‘You told me somethin’ of your business when I picked you up after you come ashore from that boat. Maybe you’d better fill me in with the rest of the story.’

  Comfort nodded and turned to Briggs. ‘You got any objection?’

  Briggs shook his head. ‘Like I say, it don’t mean anythin’ to me now.’

  Without elaborating, Comfort outlined the events in which he and Briggs had been involved in the War Between the States. When he stopped, he allowed time for the reverend to assimilate what he had said.

  ‘You gave the impression the name Laidler meant somethin’ to you,’ he observed at length. ‘Is that right?’

  The reverend paused, giving Comfort a searching look.

  ‘Just outside of Tidesville there’s a farm called the Lazy Acre. It’s run by a fella called Clayburne, Winslow Clayburne. Only that ain’t his full name. His full name is Winslow Laidlaw Clayburne.’

  Briggs looked across at Comfort. ‘It don’t mean nothin’,’ he said.

  ‘Maybe I’ve said too much,’ Bent continued. ‘Clayburne is a good man. I’ve knowed him a long time. He ain’t the type to be runnin’ no prisoner-of-war camp. Like Briggs says, it don’t mean nothin’. It’s just a coincidence.’

  ‘Seek and you shall find,’ Comfort remarked.

  ‘Yes, and the devil can quote Scripture,’ Bent replied.

  Suddenly Comfort recalled Bannock’s words about the brand the marshal had observed on the horses of the men who had caused trouble in Greenoak.

  ‘He said it was a Lazy Acre brand. We assumed Wilder had rustled ’em. What if it wasn’t Wilder at all but this man Clayburne?’

  ‘I’m gettin’ way confused,’ Bannock said. ‘I know Winslow Clayburne too, and I can confirm what the reverend says. Winslow Clayburne is a good man. He’s well respected round Tidesville.’

  Briggs leaned forward. The flickering flames only served to emphasize the intensity of his features.

  ‘If I’m gettin’ this right,’ he said, ‘that would mean Clayburne was probably not lookin’ for you at all. More likely, he was lookin’ for me.’

  Comfort’s gaze was firm on his old comrade’s features.

  ‘Yeah. And it’s my guess is that he was doin’ that because somehow he got wind that you were lookin’ for him.’

  Briggs returned Comfort’s steady look without flinching but didn’t reply.

  ‘It was no accident you bein’ in these parts, was it?’ Comfort continued. ‘I found you here because you’d traced Laidler to Tidesville. You knew Clayburne and Laidler were one and the same.’

  Bannock and the reverend were watching with close attention. The fire had burned down but it suddenly flared and hissed as the flames ran along a sappy branch. A nerve twitched in Briggs’s cheek.

  ‘I didn’t know for sure,’ he said. ‘Not until now. I guess that business in Greenoak just about clinched it.’

  ‘You just said it meant nothin’, Clayburne’s middle name bein’ Laidler. You know that’s not true.’

  ‘It don’t mean nothin’ to me no more. And even now, I ain’t completely convinced.’

  ‘You were holdin’ back on me,’ Comfort said.

  ‘Nobody’s holdin’ out on nobody,’ the voice of Bannock suddenly cut in. As if by way of support, Bent spoke.

  ‘Maybe I spoke out of turn. I certainly didn’t intend . . .’

  ‘It’s OK, Reverend,’ Briggs said. He turned back to Comfort.

  ‘It was somethin’ the reverend said at the meetin’. It kinda spoke to me, made me start thinkin’. Maybe it just brought somethin’ out into the open, somethin’ that had been botherin’ me, holdin’ me back. I guess that was why I stayed downriver: to try and work it all out.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Comfort replied. ‘So what was it the reverend said that was so important?’

  ‘I can’t remember exactly. He was quotin’ Scripture. Somethin’ about not gettin’ angry, not lettin’ bitterness rule your life.’

  ‘ “Cease from anger and forsake wrath; fret not thyself in any wise to do evil”,’ the reverend interposed.

  Comfort glanced at Bannock. In the dancing firelight he had the impression that the oldster’s head was nodding.

  ‘You can think as much as you want,’ he said to Briggs. ‘I’m takin’ a ride to this Lazy Acre to see for myself if Clayburne is the man we’re lookin’ for. I’m not restin’ till I’ve put things to rights.’

  Chapter Five

  Once they had installed themselves Corrina and her brother mounted the horses which had been put at their disposal and set off on the road to town. It wasn’t. far but they both appreciated the ride. As they approached Tidesville they could hear the sounds of music floating on the air and the approaches to the town were a busy scene of passing rigs and excited people dressed in their best clothes for the occasion. The county fair was a big event in the district.

  Tethering their horses to a hitch rack on the outskirts of the field on which most of the activities were centred, they made their way through the crowds of people jostling around the tents and stalls which had been set up. They passed by various exhibitions of produce and artefacts made by local people, stopping to glance at coconut shies, boxing booths, shooting galleries, ten-pin alleys and all kinds of other attractions, till they came to some pig and cattle pens. A sale of horses was taking place and a large number of people were taking part in the bidding. Corrina’s eyes swept the crowd. She was excited and vivacious and she was looking out for anybody she might know. Suddenly her eyes fixed on a face in the crowd and she flinched. The face was grinning back at her with leering eyes. It was the man who had accosted her on the boat. Noticing the change in her demeanour, her brother looked at her.

  ‘Somethin’ wrong?’ he asked. ‘You look like you seen a ghost.’

  She made an effort to collect herself.

  ‘Sorry. Let’s move on,’ she said.

  ‘But I ain’t finished here,’ Daniel retorted. Then, seeing that his sister was unhappy about something, he took her arm and they moved away. As they walked Corrina couldn’t help glancing behind her.

  ‘Something’s happened to upset you,’ Daniel said.

  She turned back. ‘It’s nothing,’ she replied.

  Seeing that he still looked puzzled, she thought it best to give a brief account of what had happened on the boat.

  ‘And you say the man’s here, at the fair?’

  ‘I don’t think I was mistaken.’

  Daniel stopped. ‘Come back with me,’ he said. ‘I’ll deal with him.’

  ‘No, no; it’s better to just leave it. I’m sure I’m making a fuss over nothing. It was only a minor incident. I shouldn’t be making so much of it.’

  They walked a little further. Daniel noticed for the first time that his sister was trembling.

  ‘We’ve seen most things,’ he said. ‘Would you like to go back? We can always return tomorrow.’

  She looked up at him with shining eyes. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t mind? I wouldn’t lik
e to spoil things for you.’

  ‘We’ve had a busy day,’ he replied. ‘I reckon we’ve both had enough for now.’

  They made their way back to where they had left the horses. Every so often Corrina glanced over her shoulder but she had no further sight of her molester. They mounted and made their way at a steady pace through the crowds and back along the main street of town. Soon they were on the road leading back towards the Lazy Acre. Once they were clear of the last of the holidaymakers Corrina began to relax.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you would have liked to stay in town a little longer.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ he replied. ‘Besides, we got days to spend.’

  Suddenly his comments were cut short by the bark of a rifle. Still looking at his sister with a disbelieving expression, Daniel slid slowly from the saddle. As he hit the ground Corrina screamed once and then dropped down beside him.

  ‘Daniel!’ she said. ‘Daniel, speak to me!’

  A trickle of blood was issuing from his mouth but otherwise she could not see any wound. She looked about and then her heart sank. A rider was bearing down on her and she knew at once that it was the man from the boat. He must have followed them as they left the fair, then got ahead and waited in ambush. She rose to her feet and moved back towards her horse but the rider was already upon her. Drawing his horse to a sudden halt, he leaped down and before she had time to do anything to prevent him, seized her roughly by the shoulders. She had a terrifying vision of his evil face as he forced his lips on hers. He smelt badly and her gorge rose. His hands were clawing at her dress and she heard it rip. She tried to scream again but he clapped his hand over her mouth.

  ‘You thought you could get away from me,’ he hissed. ‘Well, your boyfriend ain’t around to help you this time.’

  She tried to speak but his hand was too tight around her mouth.

  ‘Nope, I’ve dealt with him. Come on now: don’t pretend you ain’t likin’ this.’

  The hand over her mouth slipped slightly and she sank her teeth into his palm.

  ‘You dirty bitch!’ he shouted.

  His hand swung and caught her a heavy blow which knocked her to the ground. In an instant he was on top of her, his hands clawing at her garments. She still struggled but it was hopeless. The man was too strong for her and she had just about given up when, through the pain and the horror she heard the sound of hoofbeats. The next moment the man was hauled from her.