Gunslinger (17 page)

Tully winced as if in pain. “That was a long time ago, Mr. Talbot. I’ve suffered for my mistake and have come to grips with my failing. It would destroy my wife to learn of my indiscretion. Have you no conscience? I beg you to reconsider and leave this young woman alone.”

“I have no conscience,” Talbot sneered. “But I have ambition to go far in this world. Open your book and get on with it.”

Tully sent Chloe an apologetic look and began to read the words of the marriage ceremony. When he asked Tate to repeat the vows, he did so with alacrity. When Chloe’s turn came to say I do, she balked, sending Tate a venomous look.

“Say it,” Calvin commanded, “unless you wish harm to one of those youngsters working for you. I have men stationed right outside the door. A word from me and—”

“I do,” Chloe hissed, “but not without protest.”

Tully nodded his understanding and continued. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

“It’s done!” Calvin crowed. “The license. Sign the the marriage license.”

Tully offered the document to the two witnesses for their signature. “Sign your X if you can’t write. I’ll witness it.”

The two men did as they were told, since neither of them could read or write. Then Tully showed Tate where to sign. The young man barely glanced at the document as he took the pen in hand and scribbled his signature.

“Now your turn, young lady,” Tully said, sending her an enigmatic look.

Chloe held back. “Do it!” Calvin barked. When Chloe remained motionless, Calvin said, “Which of those young cowboys outside do you like least?”

“No! Don’t hurt anyone else. I’ll sign.”

Something caught her eye and she spared a moment to scan the document. Her expression remained blank as she glanced at the reverend. Something reassuring in his steady gaze convinced her to pick up the pen and inscribe her name. Reverend Tully whisked the paper away, waved the document to dry the ink, folded it in half and handed it to Chloe. He let out an audible sigh that could have been relief when neither Tate nor Calvin looked at it.

“Put it in a safe place,” Tate said as Chloe folded it yet another time and stuffed it into her pocket.

“See that the marriage is entered in the church records,” Calvin told Reverend Tully.

“I will take care of everything,” the reverend assured him.

“Let’s go,” Calvin said, herding the reverend and the two witnesses out of the house. “The lovebirds need privacy. Tate has waited a long time for this day.”

After a few lewd remarks and some obscene suggestions for Tate, everyone trooped out the door, including the preacher.

“Hot damn, you’re finally mine,” Tate said, salivating with excitement. “Go upstairs and take off those damn trousers, and everything else. I want you naked.”

Chloe took one look at Tate and laughed. “Look at you. You’re so damn weak you’re lucky if you can climb the stairs.”

“I’m well enough to make you holler with pleasure. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll forget you ever bedded that half-breed gunslinger. Go on now, I’ll be up directly. I need a drink.”

“The liquor is in the chest by the door,” Chloe said, hoping he’d drink himself into a stupor. “Help yourself.” Then she hurried up the stairs. She wanted to warn Juanita to remain out of sight for a few days, until she decided how best to handle Tate. She ducked into Rowdy’s bedroom, explained the situation to Juanita and told her to take Rowdy to the bunkhouse when the coast was clear.

Chloe had just entered her room when Tate burst in without knocking. “You’re not naked,” he blasted in a show of authority. “Pa said you have to obey me now.”

“Your father isn’t here, Tate,” Chloe said. “You’re on your own, and we both know you’re not strong enough right now to force yourself on me.”

“You’re my wife,” Tate contended. “I can do what I please with you and you can’t say no.”

He approached her boldly, as if he expected her to submit meekly to his authority. Chloe had other ideas. “There’s only one thing I have to say to you, Tate, and I won’t repeat it, so listen carefully. Touch me and I’ll kill you. Maybe not now. Or even today. But rest assured I’ll find the perfect time and place to end your miserable life. Maybe I’ll wait until you’re sleeping and put a bullet in your heart. Or perhaps I’ll wait until you’re awake and aware of what I’m doing.”

Tate clutched his injured shoulder, his face devoid of all color. “You little bitch! You’re just ornery enough to do it. Have it your way for now. But as soon as I’m healed properly, I’m gonna make you sorry you defied me.”

Before her false bravado failed her, Chloe strode from the room, carefully skirting Tate.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got a ranch to run.”

“We’re not through,” Tate warned. “You can have your way for now, but one way or another I’m gonna have what’s mine. Remember this, Chloe Talbot. My shoulder is gonna be healed soon and I’ll be as good as new.”

* * *

The fires of hades burned within Desperado. The only respite from the consuming fire within him was the welcome coolness that bathed his heated brow. He tried to move and wondered vaguely if his punishment for the life he’d led included torture, for his muscles screamed at the unrelenting agony of a thousand needles puncturing his flesh.

He heard voices and was surprised when he recognized the guttural tongue he hadn’t spoken in many years. The language of his mother’s people, the Apache. Forcing himself up from the bottomless depths of pain and despair, Desperado managed to get his eyes open. A red haze hampered his vision, confirming his belief that he’d died and received his just reward. He was in hell. The devil had finally won out.

Then the haze began to clear, replaced by dim images of human figures. He blinked and his vision returned, revealing more of his surroundings. A fire burned in a pit nearby. He stared into the leaping flames and licked his dry lips. To his surprise, someone lifted his head and held a gourd filled with sweet, cool water to his mouth. He drank greedily, then lay back down and closed his drooping eyelids.

Was he truly in hell? he wondered. Perhaps not, for he seriously doubted that anyone in hell would offer him a cool drink. Then someone spoke and he tried to focus on the words and language.

“You are safe, Fast Hand. Rest and get well.”

Fast Hand. His Indian name, given to him by his adoptive parents when his skill with a gun became apparent. The kind of peace he hadn’t felt in many years washed over him, and he slept.

The next time Desperado awakened he saw Prairie Moon, his adoptive mother, bending over him, a tender smile wreathing her dark, care-worn features. He shifted his gaze and saw Black Bear, his stalwart Indian father, squatting beside him.

“The spirits have answered our prayers, my son,” Black Bear said reverently. “You will live.”

“I thought…” The words stuck in Desperado’s throat, rusty from disuse. He tried again. “I thought…I had died and gone to hell. How did you find me?”

“Our small band left the reservation several years ago to roam and hunt where we will. We had camped beside the river on our journey south to our winter hunting grounds. The Spirit of the River brought you to us. We found you in the water, more dead than alive. We thought you were lost to us forever, but then you came back to us.”

“How long have I been like this?”

“We found you fourteen suns ago,” Prairie Moon said. “You had two bullets in you. One in your back and another in your thigh. Who did this to you, my son?”

“Someone who wanted me out of the way permanently.” He tried to rise. “I have to leave. Chloe—” His words ended in a gurgle of pain as he fell back upon the pallet.

“You are too weak, my son,” Prairie Moon scolded. “You must rest and regain your strength. Who is Chloe?”

“The woman I love. She convinced me to abandon my dangerous life and become a rancher. But she was wrong. Even when I’m not looking for trouble, it comes looking for me. As soon as I finish what I started out to do I’ll be moving on. Chloe deserves better than I can offer her.”

“You won’t be doing anything soon, my son,” Black Bear said. “You will rest here with us and heal.”

Desperado’s strength returned slowly. He worried about Chloe constantly, and was impatient to complete his journey to Amarillo to inform the Rangers of the problems at Trouble Creek, so he pushed himself to the limits. He allowed himself another week to recover, then he rose from his pallet and began a regimen of exercise to regain his strength.

Randy spent several days searching the riverbank for anything that would either prove or disprove that Desperado had drowned. He had left the ranch in the dead of the night. The others knew of his mission and together they had made up a story to explain his absence to Chloe.

The hands weren’t happy about Chloe’s marriage to Tate Talbot and they unanimously agreed that Chloe had been forced to wed Tate, even though she had denied it. They wanted to help her but had no idea how to go about it, except to find Desperado. Chloe had been so adamantly convinced that Desperado still lived that she had made believers of them. So they had conspired together to learn the truth for themselves and drew straws to see which of them would look for Desperado. Randy had won.

Randy guided his horse along the riverbank. The water was calm now, nothing, he supposed, like the turbulent force it had been the day Desperado had been carried away by the current. He followed the river downstream for many miles, scanning both banks for something, anything pertinent to Desperado’s disappearance. He was ready to admit defeat when he spotted an object caught amid debris on the opposite shore.

Randy kneed his mount into the water, crossed the river and retrieved the object. It was a hat. Desperado’s hat. He’d recognize it anywhere. Randy had no idea if finding the hat was a good sign or a bad one, but it was enough to make him continue the search.

Randy knew he was probably in Indian territory, and that Indian raiders had been active since the war ended, but he pushed on. He came upon the Indian village unexpectedly. The dozen or so tipis were pitched on a grassy plain that stretched along the riverbank. Before he could turn tail and ride away, he was surrounded by a group of braves. One grabbed his reins and led his horse into the village.

Randy was no coward, but he’d heard about Indian atrocities and expected the worst. Being scalped and stripped of his skin were two things that came to mind.

Suddenly he was pulled from the saddle. He fell heavily but quickly regained his feet, determined not to show fright. A tall, imposing man of indeterminate age approached, and Randy rightly assumed he was the chief.

“I am Black Bear,” the chief said in barely understandable English. “Why have you come to my village?”

“I—” Randy gulped, searching for courage. “I’m looking for a man. Mr. Desperado Jones. Have you seen him?”

A dangerous glint turned Black Bear’s dark eyes to polished ebony. “Why are you looking for Desperado Jones?”

“He’s my friend; I work for him. We were told he was dead, but my friends and I refused to believe it. I…we need his help. That’s why I’m looking for him. We need to know what happened to him.”

Black Bear stared at Randy for what seemed like an eternity before he appeared to come to a decision. “Come with me,” he said as he strode briskly away.

Randy followed, wondering what was in store for him now. Black Bear stopped abruptly and pointed to two braves who were engaged in a game of wrestling. Without a word of explanation, Black Bear left Randy to figure out what he was supposed to do next.

The wrestlers broke apart, laughing and patting each other on the back. Then they separated and went in opposite directions.

Randy observed the taller of the two. He looked vaguely familiar. Though somewhat thin, the Indian gave every indication of being strong and virile. He was dressed in buckskins and looked at home in his surroundings.

* * *

Desperado was satisfied with his recovery. He was able to hold his own with Yellow Dog during a wrestling match and was eager to return to civilization. He was on his way now to tell Prairie Moon and Black Bear that the time had come for him to leave. He hadn’t regained his full strength yet, but he was reasonably certain he could hold his own against his enemies. During shooting practice yesterday he’d learned that his illness had had no effect on his aim or speed. Desperado Jones’s reputation wouldn’t suffer because of his wounds.

Desperado stopped in mid-stride, his carefully honed instincts alerting him to a stranger’s presence. He rested his hand lightly on his weapon and whirled to confront the danger. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw Randy staring at him as if he’d seen a ghost. Several rapid strides brought him to Randy’s side.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” he asked the stunned young man.

Chapter Sixteen

“Desperado, thank God I found you,” Randy said with such heartfelt relief that Desperado feared something horrible had happened back at the ranch during his prolonged absence. Was Chloe in trouble?

“How did you know to look for me here?” Desperado asked the young cowboy.

“I didn’t. Calvin Talbot told us you were dead, that you had drowned in the river. We all believed it except Miss Chloe. Then the boys and I decided to take matters into our own hands and look for you ourselves. We all hoped you’d merely been wounded and were holed up somewhere to heal. I won the draw and here I am. Only I never expected to find you with Indians. Do you know these people?”

“These are my people,” Desperado said, making a wide sweep with his arm to encompass the small village. “You probably met Black Bear, my foster father, when you were brought into camp. But for them I
would
be dead.”

Randy shuddered. “Then it’s true. You
were
wounded by the posse.”

Desperado nodded slowly. “I cheated the devil once again. The current was wicked that day. You’d have to see it to believe it. To this day I don’t know why I’m still alive. But enough of me. There has to be another reason why you came looking for me. Something has happened at the ranch.” He motioned toward a nearby tipi. “Come inside, out of the wind. Then you can tell me everything.”

Sitting cross-legged before a small fire, Desperado leaned back against an ornate backrest and stared at Randy, a frown marring his handsome features.

“I planned to leave the village tomorrow. It’s good that you found me before I left. Tell me, what has happened in my absence?”

Randy cleared his throat as he cast about for the words to tell Desperado that Chloe had married Tate Talbot. “You’re not going to like this,” he finally said. “I don’t know how it happened or why. I think it has something to do with Rowdy being shot.”

Desperado’s attention sharpened. “Rowdy was shot? Is he all right?”

“It was touch and go for a while, but Juanita is taking good care of him. She won’t let none of us upset him with talk about his shooting, so we don’t know much about it.”

Desperado cursed. He had a damn good idea who was responsible for Rowdy’s shooting, but he let it go until he learned more. “Who is Juanita?”

“Miss Chloe hired her right after you left. She’d been beat up pretty good by some man and Miss Chloe felt sorry for her.”

“Is that what sent you off searching for me? Rowdy’s shooting?”

“Not exactly,” Randy hedged. “Oh, hell, I don’t know no other way to say it. Miss Chloe married Tate Talbot a couple of weeks ago. Maybe longer than that, I lost track of time.”

Desperado shot to his feet. “She what?”

“It’s true. When Cory questioned her about it, she said it was what she wanted. Don’t none of us believe her, but there wasn’t a thing we could do about it.”

“Chloe would never willingly marry Talbot,” Desperado said, as if trying to convince himself.

“He’s living with her at the ranch,” Randy blurted out. “Calvin Talbot’s been nosing around the place, riding over the land as if he owned it. Talk in town is that the railroad is coming through Trouble Creek. That’s why Talbot has been buying up land. He knew about it and bought all the land along the right of way. The Ralston spread was the last holdout. Do you reckon that’s true?”

“I’m sure of it,” Desperado rasped. “They’ve forgotten one thing, though. I own half the ranch and I’m still alive. They can’t do a thing without my permission, and I’m not giving it. I’ve got to leave right away, Randy, but I’d like you to do something for me.”

“Name it, Desperado.”

Desperado confided in a low voice exactly what he wanted Randy to do.

“I won’t fail you, Desperado. I don’t believe Miss Chloe is happy and I’ll do anything to make things right.”

An hour later Desperado and Randy rode off in opposite directions. Desperado was sickened at the thought of Chloe lying in Tate Talbot’s arms, responding to him in the same wanton way she had to him. Then the sickness inside him turned to rage. How dare she marry Tate! Not only had she married Tate but she’d told the boys she had done so willingly. What did Tate offer her that he could not? Desperado asked himself.
Respectability
, a voice within him whispered. She’d married Tate before he was cold in his grave, had he really been dead. She hadn’t even taken time to mourn him. Spurring the sturdy mustang that Black Bear had given him, he rode like a man possessed toward Trouble Creek.

Chloe strode out to the bunkhouse to see Rowdy. She hadn’t dared let him and Juanita return to the house while Tate was living there. Following Chloe’s advice, Juanita had made herself scarce whenever Tate was anywhere near.

Rowdy was sitting up in his bunk, accepting broth from the spoon Juanita held to his lips. The pair were so engrossed in one another that they hadn’t heard Chloe enter. She cleared her throat and approached the bunk.

“How are you, Rowdy?”

“Oh, he’s doing just fine, Senorita Chloe,” Juanita answered. “But he’s too weak to get out of bed yet.”

Rowdy gave Juanita a weak smile. “I can speak for myself, Juanita. I’ll be up and around in a day or two, Miss Chloe. Juanita tends to baby me.”

“Take all the time you need, Rowdy. There’s not all that much to do right now.”

“Is Juanita safe here?” Rowdy asked worriedly. “She told me what Tate did to her. I’d kill the bastard if he wasn’t your…husband,” he ground out. He gave Chloe a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, Miss Chloe, but I don’t think much of a man who’d beat a woman. Not to mention the…other things he did to her.”

Chloe felt her cheeks redden. Rowdy didn’t know half of what Tate was capable of. “Tate’s shattered shoulder isn’t mending properly. He’s in a lot of pain and unlikely to take much of an interest in running the ranch right now. If the boys don’t mind her staying here, I think she’s safe enough.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Rowdy said. “I’ll be up and around soon.”

As if speaking of the devil had conjured him up, Tate appeared in the doorway. He saw Juanita at Rowdy’s bedside and flew into a rage.

“What’s that whore doing here? I thought I told you to get rid of her. It’s a good thing I followed you out here or I’d never know she was still here. Is she servicing your hands? Is that why you’ve let her stay against my wishes?”

Rowdy started to rise from his sickbed but Juanita pushed him back down. “I’ll leave,” she said.

“No, you won’t!” Chloe argued. “You’ll stay. Furthermore, you can move back into the house. I hired you, and Tate has no say over my employees.”

When Juanita started to protest, Chloe said, “Rowdy is well on the way to recovery. One of the hands can see to his needs during the night, and you can still come out here and care for him during the day.”

“Like hell!” Tate ranted. “I’m your husband. You’ll damn well do as I say. You know what Pa said about submitting to me, don’t you?”

“Your father has what he wants,” Chloe said evenly. “He couldn’t care less about our problems.”

“Oh, yeah, well, I’m in charge here now and I’m tired of having green boys trying to do a man’s job. They’re fired. All of them.”

Just then Cory and the others walked into the bunkhouse. “What’s this about being fired?” Cory asked.

“You heard me. You’re all fired. I’m hiring on men I can trust. Pack your gear and get out of here.”

When none of the men moved, Tate said, “You heard me. Get! And don’t look to Chloe for help this time. She has no say in this. She knows what will happen if she interferes.”

“What do you want us to do, Miss Chloe?” Cory asked.

Chloe didn’t dare contradict Tate. She could handle him without difficulty, but she couldn’t protect the hands should Tate go whining to his father. Calvin was fully capable of carrying out his threat to hurt the boys. The attack on Rowdy had been a warning, and she didn’t want another shooting on her conscience.

Chloe looked into the faces of the boys she’d come to depend upon and felt a crushing sadness. If only Desperado were here, she thought. Suddenly she realized there was a face missing.

“Where’s Randy?”

The hands glanced at one another in silent communication, waiting for Cory, their spokesman, to explain.

“Randy didn’t like what was going on here and decided to leave. He asked me to tell you that he enjoyed working for you, Miss Chloe, but he didn’t want to continue with Talbot in charge.”

Chloe nodded. “He was free to go where he wanted.” She couldn’t blame Randy and realized the best way to protect the boys was to let them all go. She knew they were waiting for an answer to Cory’s question and gave the only one possible.

“I think you should all leave. If Tate wants to hire his own men, then I have no choice but to let him.” She sent Tate a belligerent look, daring him to contradict her as she said, “With the exception of Rowdy, who is unable to travel, and Juanita, whom I refuse to send away.”

Tate decided to take exception. “I told you, I don’t want the Mex—”

“And I told you, Juanita stays to nurse Rowdy.”

Her hand hovered over her gun. She wasn’t going to let Tate have his way on this. She’d do whatever was necessary to keep Rowdy and Juanita here. With no means of support, Juanita would end up in a whorehouse, servicing the needs of men like Tate Talbot.

Obviously influenced by Chloe’s gun, Tate backed down. “Just keep her out of my sight,” he snarled. “And as soon as her patient is recovered, they both go.”

Chloe didn’t argue. As soon as Rowdy recovered enough to leave, she intended to leave herself. She hadn’t given up on finding Desperado alive. So much time had passed, however, her hopes were dimming. Were he alive, she knew he would have come back to her.

“Have it your way, Tate,” Chloe said, sending him a scathing glance as she whirled and strode back to the house. Tate was hard on her heels.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said as he closed the kitchen door behind them. “Maybe I spoke too quick. Juanita can stay.” He leered at her. “I need a woman in my bed, and since you refuse to be a wife to me, she can take your place.”

“Touch her and you’re a dead man,” Chloe hissed from between clenched teeth.

“Now see here, Chloe. I’ve been damn patient with you these past few weeks. I want you in my bed. Our marriage is legal, so why are you acting like we ain’t married?”

Chloe knew for a fact that she and Tate weren’t really married. She had read the marriage license before she’d put it in the safe and had had a good laugh over it. Reverend Tully was a good man. She’d had no idea he was capable of that kind of deception. But she couldn’t confront the Talbots with her knowledge until she spoke with the reverend. She knew Calvin Talbot had it within his power to ruin the reverend. She hoped there was some way they could prevent such a thing from happening.

“I never wanted to marry you, Tate,” Chloe said.

“Well, we are married. Read the damn marriage license if you don’t believe me. Tonight you’re not going to lock the door against me, do you hear? I have rights. Lock me out and you’re going to be sorry. Unless,” he added slyly, “you want me to take that fiery little Mex in your stead. I won’t be as gentle with her as I would with you.”

Without giving her time to answer, Tate strode toward the door. “I’m going to make sure those cowboys clear out like I told them,” he threw over his shoulder.

Chloe felt the walls closing in on her. She couldn’t allow Tate to mistreat Juanita. She’d already seen the result of his heavy hand. But she would die if Tate touched her. Once had been enough. What to do? Then it came to her. She would ride into town and ask Reverend Tully’s advice. Only he could tell her if he was ready to face the consequences should her bogus marriage to Tate be made public.

Though the weather was turning ugly, Chloe hitched the wagon to a team of horses and drove into town, saying she had to buy supplies. The hands had already left, and Tate had gone off to tell his father of this latest development and to recruit new hands. Chloe drove directly to the white clapboard parsonage beside the First Baptist Church of Trouble Creek. A small, plump woman with a warm smile answered her knock.

“Is the reverend in?” Chloe asked.

“He’s in his study, dear.” If Chloe’s trouser-clad figure and guns shocked her, she gave no hint of it. “You’re Miss Sommers, Ted Ralston’s stepdaughter. Come in, I’m sure Reverend Tully will be happy to see you.” She ushered Chloe into the tidy parlor. “Make yourself comfortable while I tell him you’re here.”

Chloe sat down on an overstuffed chair, fidgeting with the fringe on her jacket. A few minutes later the reverend strode into the parlor.

“I’ve been expecting you, Miss Sommers. I regret putting you through that ceremony, but I tried to make amends in my own way. I shouldn’t have buckled under Mr. Talbot’s threats and I won’t do so again. Did you read the marriage license?”

“Indeed I did, Reverend. What everyone signed is an application to join the First Baptist Church of Trouble Creek. I’m not really married, am I?”

The reverend smiled. “No, indeed. I was hoping you’d read it and understand what I did. I took a chance that neither of the Talbots would inspect it after the ceremony. I had to do something. I couldn’t marry an unwilling bride. I went through with the ceremony because he threatened the lives of my loved ones if I didn’t.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Chloe confided. “I can’t continue with this farce. I’ve held off Tate thus far but I don’t know how much longer I can keep him away from me. I need to tell the Talbots that no legal marriage took place, but I’m afraid of what they will do to you. I know they threatened you. Do you think Calvin Talbot will…well, I heard what they said about your error in judgment and I want you to know I don’t hold that against you. But others might not be so forgiving. You could lose your position in the church.”

“I’ve already taken care of that, Miss Sommers. I fully expected you to repudiate your ‘marriage’ and took steps to prevent Mr. Talbot from harming me any further than I’ve already harmed myself.

“I confessed to my wife and she has forgiven me. Molly is a special woman, I love her and our children dearly. I’m the one who has to live with my sin. As for my congregation,” Tully continued, “I plan to disclose my sin from the pulpit Sunday and ask for forgiveness.”