The Loner 15, page 9
Moran’s laughter drowned the rest of Lisa’s words. “So that’s what the old buzzard told you about me, eh? Well, I guess at that he did me a favor. No, girl, I am what I am, and I have to do something before I think of settling down. I want you to understand that. This deputy will hunt me until one of us is dead. While he’s alive, I won’t be able to find peace anywhere. Every minute of every day I’ll be watchin’ for him to creep up.”
“But why, Pa? What have you done to him?”
“I did nothin’ to him, girl. It’s just the way he’s made. From the beginning he was the driving force behind Cavill. He did the prompting and the pushing and the goading. He figured, I guess, that if he took care of me, then he’d be a big man. I was a name in his territory. Getting me would make him taller in everybody’s eyes. But I beat him once, and ever since then he’s made sure that I got word, weekly, that he was waiting for me to come out. That’s why he penned up the Coolidge boys, to lure me into a trap. Maybe I’d have fallen for that trick, I don’t know, but it shows you, don’t it, just how far he’s prepared to go?”
“But he can do nothing, Pa, nothing at all. Even if he caught up with you in the future, his hands would be tied.”
“His hands would hold a gun, Lisa,” Moran said. “And that gun would be spitting death at me.” Moran shook his head and went on: “No, it’s Owen and Ed Coolidge and it doesn’t matter who is first. Then maybe we’ll start thinking about those plans of yours down south.”
Lisa held hard to the pommel of the saddle. Her body was quivering and she felt fatigue begin to take hold of her. Looking at her, Tom Moran was suddenly troubled.
“You all right, girl?”
Lisa didn’t answer. She sat there, clinging to the saddle with all her strength, her eyes closed. Moran muttered a curse, stepped before the horse and walked on. He was almost out on his feet, but he paid no heed to his weariness. Ahead of him was Ed Coolidge, and Coolidge had double-crossed him and raped his daughter. Ed Coolidge had to be killed.
Blake Durant heard movement ahead and reined in. He slipped quietly out of the saddle and stroked Sundown gently. The big horse soon stood quiet, head down, resting.
Minutes passed before Blake heard the sound again. It was not far ahead of him. He hitched Sundown in light brush and drew his gun. Then he walked silently forward, making sure to steer clear of the brush stems and limbs of trees. For ten minutes he went on, stopping every few yards to listen again. The sounds of movement had stopped and there was nothing but the eerie singing of the night’s silence.
Then suddenly he came onto a barren section. The light was bad, but it was sufficient to reveal a figure huddled against a rock. Blake leveled his gun and stepped forward. He recognized the sleeping man as Ed Coolidge when he was only two steps from him. Leaning over, he removed Coolidge’s gun from its holster and tossed it into the brush. Ed Coolidge awakened with a start, only to look into the bore of Durant’s gun.
Durant said, “Trail’s end for you, Coolidge.”
“Durant!”
The name was a hoarse cry from Coolidge. He flung his hand down for his gun but found the holster empty. He sat there, crushed, cursing Blake.
Blake went down on his haunches. He pushed the gun into Coolidge’s face and said, “I found the girl. What you did to her makes me want to shoot your face in. So sit and think about your future, mister. Think about rope.”
Coolidge’s face jolted under sudden fear. “I did nothin’,” he called out. “The girl’s lyin’.”
“She didn’t speak about it, Coolidge. She didn’t have to. It was there in her face, the misery of a woman molested by an animal. You’ll swing for that even if you don’t hang for killing Sheriff Lew Cavill.”
“I didn’t kill Cavill either, Durant,” Coolidge said angrily. “That was Shelley. Hell, I didn’t even have a gun.”
“You killed Gus Ivers,” Blake said.
“That old horse thief? He broke jail, too. Who’s gonna hold that against me? And, anyway, it’s your word against mine.”
Blake said, “Owen will listen to me this time, Coolidge. But what I’m most worried about is getting you past Tom Moran. Moran’s gonna kill you when he catches up with you, and maybe I won’t be able to stop him.”
Sweat glistened on Coolidge’s drawn face. Blake decided he’d aged ten years since he was in the Sunfish Creek jailhouse. Blake settled down with the moonlight at his back, watching the light play over the face of the outlaw. He knew it was going to be a long night, but he was prepared for it. He had his man. The rest would be easy.
Or so he hoped.
Chapter Ten – The Trail Out
“I’VE GOT TO rest, girl,” Tom Moran said to his daughter. “I’m done in.”
Lisa felt the horse stop under her and then all her strength left her. She slipped from the saddle and staggered a few steps towards the brush. For an hour now they had had no difficulty in following the trail made by Blake Durant. But at no time had she caught a glimpse of him or the big black horse.
Sitting on the dead grass, she rubbed her swollen ankle. Her cuts and bruises and the welts on her face left there by Ed Coolidge’s fists no longer worried her. In fact, nothing bothered her. Life had ceased to have meaning for her. For years now she had waited impatiently for the day when she would be with her father again. She had made so many plans to look after him and to make him settle down. But it didn’t matter now. Whatever she had felt for her father was dead. He was a killer. He had murdered people to rob them. And that money he had taken he had sent home to her aunt. Lisa shuddered at the thought of the dresses she had so excitedly put on, dresses bought with an outlaw’s money. She felt even worse than when Ed Coolidge had raped her.
“Be only half an hour at most, Lisa, then we’ll push on. By the look of it, we should reach the foothills before morning. Then we’ll talk some more.”
Lisa just sat there, numb. She did not know how much later it was that she heard her father stirring. He saddled the horse, gave it water from his canteen and then offered the canteen to her. Lisa accepted it, drank and handed it back. But when her father extended his hand to help her up, she turned away. She struggled into the saddle and let him lead her off, looking ahead at the gloomy terrain, praying for an end to it all.
For another hour they pressed on until Lisa heard a horse nicker. Her father stopped his mount on a barren stretch of ground and waved for her to be silent. Then Tom Moran walked on, leaving the horse with her. He found the big black stallion standing quietly between two boulders.
“Easy, boy,” he called softly, and Sundown shied away from his outstretched hand.
Then Blake Durant appeared only a few yards away. The big drifter said, “Drop the gun, Moran.”
Moran whirled about, but he was in the moonlight while Durant’s body was clothed in deep shadow. Moran knew he had no chance. He knew too that he would never make the mistake of underestimating this man again. Durant was smart and careful. He’d take a lot of handling.
Tom Moran put his gun back into its holster and said, “You told me there was no burn between us, Durant. So why this?”
“Just a precaution, Moran,” Blake told him, then he stepped forward took the gun and called to Lisa to come on. The young woman wasted no time obeying his command. When they came to the small clearing, Lisa let out a gasp. Ed Coolidge was sitting on the far side of the clearing, glaring at her.
Tom Moran saw him at the same time. After a quick look at Durant, he asked, “You gonna stop me goin’ for him, Durant? Is that why you took my gun?”
Coolidge had his hands tied. He shifted awkwardly, trying to rise.
Durant said, “Moran, I took your gun because I figure we’ve all walked far enough. Now we’re going to sit. I think Billy Owen is close behind us and should find us by morning, that’s if he or a member of his posse can read trail sign. Then we’ll talk it out, I’ll clear myself, and you can have the rest of it.”
Moran glared at him. “I ain’t waitin’ for no damn sour-bellied deputy to come for me, Durant. I want Coolidge now. He rode with me, worked with me, drank with me. Then he raped my girl. You gonna stop a man takin’ him apart when he’s done that?”
“For now, Moran, just sit and be quiet. I think you’ve dragged your daughter too far too fast.”
Lisa looked gratefully at him, but Tom Moran was still in no mood to give in. Turning to Coolidge he said, “It’s gonna be slow, Ed, real slow. I’m gonna make you squirm and beg.”
Coolidge licked his lips and said nothing. Tom Moran pulled the reins from Lisa’s hands and pushed the horse to the edge of the clearing. He then sat down, legs crossed, and glared at Ed Coolidge.
“She’s lyin’, Tom,” Coolidge said a moment later. “Hell, why would I want to do somethin’ bad to her?”
“Because she’s a woman, Ed. Not because she’s a pretty woman, which she is, but because she’s a woman. All the time I knew you, I watched you ogling women like an animal. You never had no woman of your own, because those you met couldn’t stand the stink of you. The scum in you, Ed, smells high.”
Coolidge let out a groan and sank back against the rock. He lowered his eyes. His thigh hurt badly but he waited for a chance to run. He could run a hundred miles if only he could get away from here.
Blake Durant settled down on a patch of grass, keeping his gun on Coolidge. Lisa walked away from them and settled down on grass. Within minutes the place was quiet, Ed Coolidge’s breathing the only disturbing noise.
Tom Moran made his move a long time later than Blake Durant had expected him to. He went hurtling through the air, hands flailing when Blake Durant reached out for him. Moran let out a yell of pain and crashed heavily to the ground. Blake was over the top of him in two strides, imprisoning Moran’s chest with his boots. He aimed his gun down at Moran’s anger-filled face.
“I’ll allow that one mistake, Moran. But there’ll be no more or I’ll tie you up. I don’t know that it wouldn’t be a good thing at that.”
Moran’s face twisted. “Go to hell, Durant. I can’t sit there and listen to him snore. I’ve got to tear my hands at him. My girl—”
“Miss Moran doesn’t need reminding about what happened, Moran. Sit and be quiet or so help me, I’ll make you quiet.”
Blake stepped back but kept his gun trained on the outlaw. Tom Moran rose and glared at Ed Coolidge who looked away anxiously and then returned to his place. Lisa, who’d been sleeping, sat up and stroked her hair. But she didn’t speak and her gaze rested only on Blake Durant.
Blake stretched out again. He wanted to catch some sleep, but doubted if he would during this long night. Again silence settled and it was quiet for two more hours —until the heavy trample of brush told them that Deputy Billy Owen and his posse had arrived.
Billy Owen halted at the head of his men and looked gravely about him. He had had no trouble following sign. So little trouble, in fact, that he was worried. He hadn’t expected that it would be this easy.
Walsh drew up beside Owen and Bull Marner came after them. They sat their horses, all fatigued, as Walsh said, “A short spell wouldn’t hurt any, Deputy.”
Owen shook his head. “No. We’re close. I can feel it.”
“Only thing I can feel is my seat burnin’,” put in Bull Marner. “I ain’t used to this, Owen.”
“Nobody’s much used to it, mister, but you don’t hear anybody else whinin’, do you?”
“Maybe the others ain’t got the energy left to whine, mister,” Marner answered gruffly. “We gonna rest or not? I feel like this whole mountain has been hammering at me.”
Owen thought of Durant and Ed Coolidge. He was still supremely confident that he could handle the issue on his own. But there was the woman. He needed somebody to look after her. Getting her killed through a rash move wouldn’t do much to get the respect he craved. He had seen disrespect in their eyes.
“Ten minutes then,” Owen said. “I suggest that you walk about and stretch your legs.”
Nobody argued with him. But Owen sat on his horse, watching the first gray light of day begin to creep along the side of the mountain. Suddenly he was tense again, waving wildly at Walsh and Marner and another couple of men still pacing back and forth through the brush.
“Hush down,” he ordered, and the four men stopped. The others, yards away, followed their example until the whole area was quiet.
“What is it?” asked Walsh.
“Can’t you smell it, mister?” Owen said.
Walsh lifted his head a fraction and sniffed. “I don’t smell nothin’.”
But Bull Marner soon put in, “A fire. Yeah, I can smell somethin’ burnin’.”
“They likely figure they got away from us,” Owen said. “But they didn’t. We’ve got ’em. By hell, we’ve got ’em.”
“We ain’t got nobody yet,” Walsh said. “Work it out proper, Deputy. None of us is going blind into something we ain’t sure about.”
“But you’re going in, mister, because you’re sworn in and there are killers down there not far from us. If you don’t, mister, the whole town is gonna hear about the way your guts crawled at the thought of facing outlaws.”
Still grinning, Billy Owen slipped from the saddle. He quickly organized the horses into a huddle in thick brush and left one man to look after them. Then he called his posse together and said, “Marner and two others, get down the trail a little more and position yourselves past the fire. You’ll see it soon enough. Walsh can stay here and come down that passage between them two boulders. The rest of you come with me and do what I tell you.”
Owen pushed Marner down the trail. Two men followed the big man. As soon as they’d gone from sight, Owen pointed out the faint light of a fire no more than thirty yards from them. Breathing in deeply, he drew his gun and led the three men forward. It took him only a few minutes to reach the edge of the clearing where he could see the fire burning clearly. But the clearing was empty except for two horses, one the big black belonging to Blake Durant.
Owen stood there, his companions backed up behind him. He said, “We’ll surround the place. Keep out of sight until you see somebody. Then call to them to stay put. If it’s Durant or Coolidge, shoot them down.”
The men exchanged worried glances. Like Walsh and Marner, they had decided that Blake Durant’s actions did not point him out to be anything but an innocent man. But they also knew it would do no good arguing that point with Owen.
They moved off while the tall deputy stood, gun in hand, his heart beating hard. He’d been alone for barely a minute when he felt something press against his spine. Then came Blake Durant’s voice:
“Just walk forward, Deputy, and don’t try to best me.”
Owen jerked his head about. “Durant, damn you, I’ll—”
“The first thing you’ll do, mister, is call out to your men. I want them bunched where I can see them, doing nothing till they hear me out.”
“Go to hell, drifter!”
“If you don’t, Owen, you’re going to force me to hit you again as I had to do in town. Walk, damn you!”
Blake pushed the deputy into the ring of light coming from the small fire. It was only then that Owen saw the three huddled forms in the cover of brush on the other side of the small clearing. Owen halted just short of the fire, glaring at Durant. Then, without being asked, Walsh, Marner and the rest of the posse showed themselves.
Blake understood immediately by the nods of greeting from the posse men that they meant him no harm. He took Owen’s gun and tossed it aside, then he walked to where Ed Coolidge was looking fearfully up at him.
Blake pointed to him and said, “You all know this man. He killed Gus Ivers when we caught up with him at the shack. That’s enough for you to hang him for, if not for the killing of your sheriff. I hunted him down for the simple reason that bringing him back for trial would show you all that I had no hand in any of Tom Moran’s business or in the killing of your sheriff.”
Blake then pointed to Tom Moran. “I guess you all know Moran. I don’t give a damn what you want with him, but from what I’ve learned he’s got a burn to get revenge for what he considers to be injustice. And I don’t give a damn about that. But the girl is his daughter and she’s suffered badly during this manhunt, so treat her right.”
Blake looked keenly at Owen. “Mister, you’re not fit to wear tin. You’re walking too tall and wanting too much. Keep it up and you’ll walk into trouble too big for you to handle.”
Blake then walked across to Tom Moran and cut him loose. Moran stood rubbing his hands together to get the circulation back in them. Blake was helping Lisa to her feet when Moran suddenly grabbed her and wheeled her about, lifting her off the ground so that her ankles struck Blake in the chest and sent him reeling. Billy Owen charged forward but Moran hurled his daughter at the deputy and then grabbed one of the posse men. With a savage twist of the man’s arm he disarmed him and scooped up the fallen gun. Ed Coolidge let out a loud howl of fear as Tom Moran swung back and glared at him.
“Ed, you shouldn’t’ve done it.”
Moran pumped three shots into Ed Coolidge who gave no more than a grunt before he collapsed. Billy Owen lunged over the fire. Tom Moran swung back to meet his challenge and his teeth peeled back in a savage snarl as he pumped two shots into him. Owen staggered into the fire and then past it. Then he fell and lay still, the flames licking at his hands.
Lisa Moran’s scream was drowned by sudden firing from Walsh and Bull Marner. Their bullets thudded into a retreating Tom Moran and sent him crashing back into the brush. Lisa let out another scream as Blake Durant, back on his feet, looked about him.
Ed Coolidge. Tom Moran. Deputy Billy Owen. All dead. He looked thoughtfully at the other men and crossed to Lisa Moran. Without a word, he lifted her into the saddle, and then he faced the posse.
“You men got anything against me?”
Walsh shook his head and extended his hand. “If you ever come through Sunfish Creek again, Durant, try my saloon. You’ll find it more hospitable than the jailhouse.”
