Retribution, page 7
At the end of the fourth day, Mart arrived.
Thomas and the marshal conferred for several minutes, and Claire found she had a hard time concentrating. She assumed Thomas was giving Mart an update on her progress, and she wanted to know what he was telling him. Unable to contain her curiosity, she stopped what she was doing and joined them.
The two men turned as she approached. Mart had a hard set to his jaw.
“What is it?” she asked. She wanted to say, what is it now? but that sounded like she was whining, so she held her tongue.
Mart and Thomas exchanged a glance before the marshal said, “Looks like there’s a change of plan.”
“Why?” She looked from one man to the other. Mart still hadn’t told her anything about what he’d planned to do.
“Henry Blankenship wants to meet with you. He says he has information on your claim.”
“How did he know I was still in town?”
“Horace Tabor told him.”
“How—”
“Augusta mentioned your problem to Horace to see if there was anything he could do, and it appears he took it up with Blankenship.”
“But won’t it be dangerous for me to be seen in town?”
Mart nodded. “I told him about the attempt on your life. He’s agreed to meet with you at a place of my choosing. Says he believes you’re innocent and that he wants to help.”
“But that’s good news, isn’t it?” At least she’d know what happened to the claim and their land. And having Henry vouch for her would go a long way toward keeping her out of jail and away from the hangman’s noose.
“We’ll see.”
Claire studied Mart for a moment. “You still don’t know how Cody knew where to find me.”
Mart nodded. “I’m inclined to believe that Augusta may have unintentionally let your location slip to the wrong person. That’s my fault. I brought her out to talk to you. There’s a bounty on your head. Money makes strange enemies—enemies you might never suspect.”
“You haven’t told anyone where I am now, have you?”
“Of course not. Just the same, I’m going to suggest that you both remain vigilant until we catch whoever wants you dead.”
“When am I to meet with Henry?” The sooner, the better, as far as Claire was concerned.
“Tonight, out at the old Hoover cabin.”
“Will you come with me?”
“That was my plan.”
Chapter 12
Claire and Mart reached the old Hoover cabin at dusk. Bats flitted above their heads, snatching insects. A lonely coyote howled in the distance, its call echoing through the night. Blankenship was due to arrive after his required attendance at a dinner party.
The abandoned cabin sat next to a small creek that ran through a narrow canyon. A crude outhouse perched to the north of the cabin. Both structures were badly in need of repair. After several unproductive years of panning for gold, Old Man Hoover had left for greener pastures. No one took his place, adding another abandoned claim to the dozens in the area.
Claire dismounted and walked around the site, wondering what it had been like to live alone for so many years, working day in and day out, hoping, waiting, expecting to strike it rich, and then realizing the dream was just that—a dream. She thought of Josiah, wonderful, naïve, optimistic Josiah, doing much the same. Well, tonight Henry Blankenship would put to rest the mystery surrounding her husband’s folly.
At least then she’d be able to move on, whether there was any money left or not. Hopefully she’d find a way forward.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Claire shoved her hands in her pockets to keep them warm. “Were you able to find out anything about the man Cody mentioned?”
Mart shook his head. “Hard to find something without at least a description.”
Claire shivered. The heavy work shirt and long coat Mart had given her helped some, but nighttime in the mountains could be cold. She was glad she wore the trousers. She reached up and removed her hairpins, allowing her hair to fall to her shoulders, hoping it would help keep her ears warm.
Mart gathered some twigs and branches and started a small fire next to a large log near the cabin. He motioned for Claire to sit.
“Thank you. Aren’t you going to join me?”
“No, ma’am. I’d prefer to stand, if you don’t mind.” He walked to his horse and slid his rifle from its scabbard.
She eyed the two revolvers in his gun belt and nodded at the rifle in his hand. “Expecting trouble?”
“I like to be prepared.”
That didn’t bode well for the meeting. Was he worried about Henry? Did he think the banker might let their whereabouts be known? Or was it just a precaution, in case someone followed Henry to the meet?
Claire stared at the fire, willing herself to forget for the moment why she was there. “Thank you for introducing me to Thomas. I’ve learned so much from him.”
Mart nodded. “A woman in your position needs to be able to take care of herself.”
Claire sighed. “A woman in my position. What exactly does that mean?” She glanced at the marshal. “What am I to do? I’ve no husband, no family, most likely no money or property. I can’t stay in Leadville forever.”
“Once we clear your name, I could speak to Esther for you, see if there’s anything you could do for her at the boarding house.”
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but if I’m going to take in washing and mending or cook for someone, I’d rather it not be strangers.”
“Thomas says you have a talent for shooting and such.” Mart studied her, his expression hard to read in the orange light of the fire. “Ever thought about hiring yourself out?”
Claire looked at him in disbelief. “As a gunman?” She shook her head, the idea absurd. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a woman, and women don’t do those kinds of things.”
“Don’t tell that to Alice Ivers.”
“I assume you’re referring to Poker Alice?”
“The very same. She makes a fine living gambling—and gets to wear the latest fashions, too.”
“I’m not a gambler, and don’t much care for frilly things.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. Alice has a talent for gambling, and she lives a good life. Or, if you prefer, there’s Eleanor Dumont, or Calamity Jane. Both women make a living doing what they’re good at, although I will admit, Jane has a fondness for the bottle that you don’t. Besides being a good shot, you have a mind for strategy. And according to Thomas you’re a quick learner. Those talents can be turned into a different kind of living—one where you’re able to come and go as free as a man.”
Claire had to admit, the idea was intriguing. But until she avenged Josiah and her children, she couldn’t think about the future.
Somewhere, an owl hooted. Claire wrapped her arms around herself, strangely ill at ease. “When did you say Henry was going to meet—”
The crack of a gunshot split the still air. A round ricocheted off the log next to Claire.
“Get down,” Mart yelled. Lightning and Rose whinnied and strained at their leads.
Claire dropped flat next to the log as Mart took cover near the cabin and returned fire. A volley of gunfire pierced the night, kicking up a fountain of dirt close to the log.
“They can see you. The fire.”
Claire turned her head. The flames weren’t more than two feet from her. Careful to keep low, she grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it on the flames. Another round splintered the log, this time closer than the last. Heart in her throat, she threw another handful and kept going until the fire sputtered out. A deep glow from the embers remained, but the area around her was much darker.
“Claire—” Mart whispered loud enough to hear. She coughed, letting him know she’d heard him. “I’m going to count to three,” he continued in a low voice. “When I get to three, get up, stay low, and run toward me. I’ll cover you.”
Claire squeezed her eyes shut. She was going to die. If she got up and ran she’d be a moving target, like the deer Josiah loved to hunt. “I—I can’t.”
“Yes you can.”
His voice held an urgency she hadn’t heard before.
“No, Mart I—”
“One.”
“Oh my God,” she breathed. I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
“Two.”
Another round ricocheted off the log. Too close.
Oh my God oh my God oh my God. You have to move, Claire. Do it. Now.
“Three!”
Heart hammering in her ears, Claire scrambled to her feet and ran headlong toward the cabin. Good to his word, the marshal fired rounds into the darkness, delaying the other gunman’s attempt to shoot her.
She made it to the cabin. Gasping, Claire flattened her back against the wall. “What now?”
“Take this.” Mart handed her one of his Peacemakers and extra ammunition. “When I say go, start shooting.”
“Wait. What are you doing?”
“Going for the rifles.”
“Oh, shit.” She barely registered that she’d uttered the cuss word—one of Josiah’s favorites. Mart waited until she’d taken a position near the corner of the cabin before he gave her a nod. Mart headed for the horses, and Claire popped out from behind the wall and fired five rounds in the gunman’s general direction. The gunman returned fire, and she ducked back behind the building to reload.
Mart made it to the horses, but both of them were twitchy and danced back and forth, acting like they were ready to run. Lightning was accustomed to gunfire, but the echo through the canyon amplified the sound, most likely hurting the horse’s sensitive ears.
Mart disappeared into the shadows behind Lightning. A moment later, both horses started moving toward the cabin.
He’s using the horses for cover. Claire shoved her anxiety for Rose deep, bobbed around the corner of the cabin once more, and fired again at the unseen gunman. Mart reached the cabin and handed the reins to Claire.
“Take them behind the cabin.”
She nodded and did as he asked. On her way back, she slid her rifle from its scabbard and took up a position next to Mart.
“I got no quarrel with you, Marshal.” The man’s voice echoed eerily in the canyon. “I want the woman.”
Mart seated a round in the chamber of his Winchester. “Eli? That you?”
There was a pause, then, “I don’t want to kill you, Mart. Just hand over the woman and you can go on home.”
Claire glanced at Mart. The man trying to kill them was his deputy? “I thought he was on his way to Denver?”
“Guess he circled back.” Mart turned toward the sound of Eli’s voice. “You know that ain’t going to happen, Eli. Why not give yourself up and we can all go home?”
“You know that ain’t gonna happen. Lay down your guns. We got the place surrounded.”
“Where’s Blankenship?” Mart called.
“I don’t know what you’re getting’ at. All I know is I need the woman.”
Mart frowned at Claire. “If Eli isn’t working for Blankenship, how in hell did he know where to find you?”
Claire shrugged. She closed her eyes, waiting for the gunman to say something.
“Marshal? I’m waitin’.”
She opened her eyes and turned to Mart. She knew where Eli was. “He’s near that clump of trees on the rise. You know the one we saw when we rode up?”
Mart looked at her. “You sure?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
“All right, then. I’m going around back, see if I can sneak up on him. Can you distract him?” Claire nodded.
Mart disappeared behind the building, leaving her alone.
Chapter 13
Claire brought her rifle up, eased the barrel past the corner of the cabin, and started firing.
A few moments later there was another shot, this one farther away. Claire reloaded and fired again, unsure if or when to stop.
“Hold your fire, Claire,” Mart called. His voice echoed from where the earlier shots had been fired.
Claire stopped. “Can I come out?”
There was a pause, then, “Yep—it’s safe.”
Claire lowered the rifle and took a tentative step away from the cabin, expecting gunfire. When none came, she headed toward the sound of Mart’s voice, careful of her steps in the darkness.
As she approached the small grove of trees, she slowed her pace. There were two men standing over someone else on the ground. She drew closer and gasped.
“Thomas?”
The Ute warrior turned at her voice. “Claire.”
She glanced at Mart. “How is he here?”
“I asked him to come.”
She had more questions, but the man on the ground raised even more of them. Eli was still alive. A dark stain soaked his pant leg.
Eli narrowed his eyes at Claire. “I shoulda kilt you when I had the chance.”
At that moment, she knew. It was his eyes. How did she not see it before? Memories of the attack returned with so much force her knees grew weak. “You were one of the bastards that attacked my place.” Her cheeks began to heat. “You killed my husband and children.” The rage inside her built like a fire consuming dry grass. She clenched her fists in an attempt to stop from clawing his eyes.
The man’s expression turned icy. “And you kilt my brother in cold blood.” He spit at her feet. Thomas slammed the butt of his rifle into his face. His head snapped back and he grunted. Blood gushed from his nose.
“Fuckid sabbage,” he managed.
Thomas and Claire trained their weapons on Eli, and Mart dropped to his haunches in front of him.
“I don’t really care what happens to you, to be honest. But I sure as hell want to know who sent you and why.”
“Or whad? You gooda kill be?”
“Probably. Although if you work with me I might be persuaded to reconsider.”
The man’s laugh came out more like a gurgle. “Sure, Barshal. Whadebber you say.”
Thomas stepped on his wounded leg and Eli screamed, the sound muffled by the amount of blood that surely must have been in his throat.
Mart watched Eli with the inscrutable expression he’d used on Cody, the first man sent to kill Claire. “It’s gonna be a long, painful night if you don’t cooperate.” He nodded toward Thomas. “This here’s a member of the Ute tribe. I reckon he knows more about causing pain to a man than most.”
Keeping his hand on the bridge of his nose, Eli glanced at Thomas. Fear flickered in his eyes. “You wouldit leab be alode wid a sabbitch.”
“What’s it gonna be?” Mart continued. “A night of terror at the hands of a heathen? Or will you cooperate so it ends quick?” He made a show of looking around the area. “Ain’t nobody gonna hear you scream, Eli. Not up here.”
Eli closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “The bangger.”
“You mean Blankenship.”
Eli nodded.
Claire gasped. “Henry?” She looked at Mart, confused. “But he wanted to help me…”
Mart shook his head. “No, Claire. He didn’t.”
“That’s why you asked Thomas to come tonight, isn’t it?”
Mart nodded. “Blankenship was the only one who knew about this meeting. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure it was him behind the attempts on your life. I am now.”
Everything tumbled into place—the attack on the homestead and the attempt to blame it on the local tribe. Henry telling her not to worry, that the law would work it all out. Mentioning to the deputies that Josiah had taken a large mortgage out on the property and that they were in “dire straits.” Henry aiding her escape, making her look even guiltier.
“What are we going to do?” Claire’s heart sank. Blankenship was a powerful man. As head of one of the larger banks in Leadville, he was above reproach. Justice rarely came to the rich.
“I tell you what I’m going to do,” Mart said as he pulled free a pair of handcuffs. “I’m going to take you into custody, Eli. We’ll get a sworn statement from you and then arrest Blankenship.”
At that moment a twig snapped, followed by the sound of a horse riding away.
Mart and Thomas exchanged looks.
“Blankenship,” Mart said.
Claire was already halfway to the cabin.
“Wait. Claire—it’s too dangerous—” Mart yelled.
“I don’t care,” she yelled back. She reached Rose, untied the reins, and was in the saddle and after Blankenship before anyone could stop her.
Chapter 14
“Follow them,” Mart said to Thomas. “Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. I’ll take care of Eli.”
Thomas started for his horse. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Eli lunged at Mart, going for the Peacemaker. Mart pivoted, drew his pistol, and fired, killing him. He dropped where he was.
“Kind of takes care of your only witness,” Thomas said drily.
“Which means we have to get to Blankenship before she does.”
Leaving the dead outlaw where he lay, Mart and Thomas mounted their horses to follow Claire and the escaping banker through the darkness. In spite of their narrow lead, soon they lost them both. Thomas got down from his horse to search for clues. Mart did the same. The moon lit the terrain with a ghostly blue glow.
It didn’t take long before Thomas found evidence of the banker’s and Claire’s paths, and they made their way along the tree line, following the obvious trail. The broken branches and hoofprints gave them plenty of indication as to which direction they were both riding.
Hours later, the trail led them to a small cabin in the middle of nowhere. Early on, the prints had diverged, indicating Claire had lost her way. Mart and Thomas continued tracking Blankenship, hopeful that Claire would take a while to locate his trail again.
