I'm Off to Montana for to Throw the Hoolihan (Code of the West) (16 page)

He was still three hundred yards away when he spotted animals in a makeshift corral behind the collapsed and charred remains of the barn. The house consisted of a log base four feet tall on all four sides, with a slot for a front door—nothing else.

At one hundred yards Tap reined up and hollered, “Ezra, it’s me—Tap Andrews. I’m coming in.”

Peter’s blond head peeked over the wall first, followed by the full-bearded face of his father. The young boy vaulted the wall of the house and scampered out.

“Hi. We rounded up most of the animals. Only the goats and one hog is missing.”

“That’s good, son. Glad to hear that.”

Ezra Miller wore dark trousers and a dirty white shirt under his unbuttoned heavy blanket coat. He walked through the doorway of the wall. “Is everything all right? Lucinda and the children safe?”

“Yep. Angelita has the kids all organized and attendin’ her school.”

“Then why did you come out? I told you I had to do this myself.”

“I was checkin’ out Cedar Mesa and sightin’ in the pro
perty line when I ran across the trail of a couple riders. I naturally followed them up the mountain a ways. The next thing I knew, the surroundings started lookin’ familiar, so I thought why not stop by and have supper with Ezra and Peter?”

“Brother Andrews, you are too honest a man. Windy st
ories like that sound off-tune. You’ve got a bedroll and grub sack. You didn’t just stray a little off course.”

“Well, Mrs. Miller was gettin’ a little worried. I offered to bring her a report. But the part about the riders is true. There are two bank robbers tied up in the pine trees down the crick about four miles.”

“Bank robbers?” Peter gasped.

“They robbed a bank in Billings last Saturday.”

“And you caught them?” Peter Miller’s eyes grew wide.

“Someone robbed them and tied them to trees.”

“And you left them there?” Ezra asked.

“I couldn’t put them on my pony, and I didn’t know what I’d find at your place. I gave them some water and told ’em I’d come back for them and see they get to stand trial in Bil
lings.”

“Hitch up the team, Peter. We’ll go get those men,” Mr. Miller i
nstructed.

“What are we going to do with them?”

“They can be fed and bedded down. Where did you say they were?”

“If you’ve got the time, so do I. Let’s all go. How are things here?”

“We haven’t had any trouble . . . since this morning.”

“What happened this morning?”

“Like Peter said, we rounded up most of the animals yesterday during the rainstorm. But a couple hours after daybreak, two of the Pothook-H men rode right up to the barn and shot a yearling calf. They threatened to come back every hour and shoot an animal until we pulled out.”

“They said after the animals were all gone, if we were still here, we’d be the target,” Peter added.

Ezra frowned. “We watched them down in the aspen. Looked to me like another rider came in, and after a quick conversation, they all rode off. We haven’t seen them since. Perhaps they decided harassing us was a waste of time.”

“What they decided was they ought to go back down the hill and lift those bank robbers’ poke.”

Peter and his father hitched up the team to the farm wagon. “You think they’ll be comin’ back?”

“I think they don’t want any witnesses up in these mou
ntains. They plan on gettin’ you out of here one way or another.”

“And I say you have much too negative a view of ma
nkind. They are creations of God, just as you and I are.”

“I don’t argue with that. But that calf they shot was a part of God’s creation too. I believe some men have twisted and warped God’s design so bad they are almost b
eyond repair.”

“I’m glad you said almost, Brother Andrews. God’s redem
ptive power is beyond our imagination.”

“I’m livin’ proof of that. But these boys won’t hesitate to shoot you if they get a chance. It’s just a matter of time.”

“I think you’re dead wrong.”

Wood exploded behind where Peter sat. A rifle report fo
llowed.

“Leave the team. Get behind that barrier,” Tap shouted.

Peter dove behind the half-built log wall. Tap galloped his horse to the corral and turned him out, letting the reins loop over the saddle horn.

Another shot echoed through the canyon.

Tap sprinted back to the wall of the house where Ezra Miller and his son crouched.

“I’m goin’ to drive your team back to the corral so you won’t lose a horse,” Tap shouted.

“Be careful,” Miller called out.

Tap popped over the wall and fired three quick shots into the a
spen grove.

“Brother Andrews, please don’t fire that gun at another h
uman on my farm. I don’t need a lethal weapon for my protection.”

Tap fired two more shots into the trees and ran for the wagon. “Well, I do, Brother Miller,” he yelled back.

7

S
everal bullets tunneled into the hard-packed mud around the wagon as Tap Andrews slapped leathers against the two frightened draft horses. The wagon rattled back to the temporary corral, partially hidden from the gunmen in the woods by the steep-sided canyon.

Tap dove over the back wall of the house, barely avoiding the deep pit that was to become a root cellar, and crawled up to Ezra and Peter Miller. He could feel the water and mud ooze through the knees of his canvas ducking trousers. A single shot rang out from the grove of trees. Tap had no idea where the bullet hit.

“Mr. Andrews, the shooting has slowed down. Did you hit one of them?” Peter asked.

“Not likely. At this range it takes a careful shot. All I was tryin’ to do was get them to hide so I could drive the team to safety. ’Course there’s always the chance of a stray bullet wingin’ someone. But that doesn’t happen very often. Nine out of ten men couldn’t hit you at this range if you stood up and waved your arms.”

“Why do we need to hide like this then?”

“Might be that tenth man out there.”

“What do you think we should do now?” Peter asked.

“That’s up to your father. I’m just a neighbor on a visit. This is his place.”

No more shots rang out from the woods, but all three continued to crouch behind the partial log wall. Tap held his rifle. The lever was checked, the hammer back, the ungloved, callused index finger on his right hand rested against the cold, blued steel of the trigger.
They’re probably scootin’ up for a better position. We’ll have about five minutes before the shootin’ starts.

With thick wool coat buttoned at his neck and shaggy blond hair uncombed, Peter scrunched down next to Tap. “What would you do if this were your place?”

Tap leaned his back against the fire-blackened log wall. “If I didn’t feel like I could face ’em straight up, I’d wait until dark, build a little bait fire until they started sneakin’ in to shoot, and then I’d hide and pick them off one at a time.”

“It’s not right to take another man’s life, no matter what." Ezra Miller sprawled on the dirt floor of the living room.

“I ain’t arguin’ theology. I don’t know next to beans when it comes to doctrine.” Tap pulled cartridges from his bullet belt and shoved them into the breech-loading chamber. “But each man is accountable to the Lord for his actions. For me, when some hombre attempts to take my life or the life of innocents around me, he’s forfeited his right of protection from the Scriptures. The way I reckon, he’s voluntarily moved himself into the ‘eye-for-an-eye’ category.”

“Brother Andrews, when you pick up a firearm and aim it at a
nother, even in defense, you’re no longer trusting God for your deliverance.”

All three flinched when two bullets slammed into the eigh
teen-inch logs in the front wall, simultaneous with the report.

“Aren’t they getting closer?” Peter asked.

“Yep.” Tap kept behind the barrier but searched for better protection.
They’re spreadin’ out and movin’ in. Only two of ’em are shootin’.

Tap kept talking. “Ezra, what if it was God who gave me the ability to shoot this gun? When I use it for protectin, I reckon I’m part of God’s deliverance.”

“That’s absurd, perhaps even blasphemy. The Almighty doesn’t need a .44-40 to accomplish His will.”

“I don’t surmise He does. But sometimes He uses such things.”

Two more shots slammed into the log barrier.

Tap continued. “I just read the other night King Ahab was killed by a random arrow. The Lord could have struck him down on the spot, but He used that arrow instead. Some old boy had to pick up his bow and sling that arrow into the air. Could be ever’ once in a while He does things that way.”

“That’s entirely different.”

“That’s where we disagree. One thing I can tell you for sure is these men are gettin’ closer, and we be
tter find some better shelter, because it sounds like they aim to kill us this time.”

“If you hadn’t shot at them, they wouldn’t have felt the need to keep on shooting.”

Tap just stared at Ezra Miller.
Lord, idealism only succeeds in an ideal world. This isn’t it. He’s goin’ to get himself killed, and he won’t let me keep it from happenin’. Surely there’s a way to keep him alive.

“I’m sorry you feel like I endangered you and Peter. That was not my intention.” Tap peered back at the bluff and the livestock. “Here’s what I can do. I’m goin’ to ride straight out that creek. They’ll see me, and they’ll hear my rifle thu
nder.

"They’ll know it’s just you and Peter back here. If they r
efuse to shoot an unarmed man and boy, you’ll survive. ’Course your animals won’t get that break. You’ll lose ’em all, even those big draft horses.”

“If they had wanted to kill us, they would have done it b
efore now.”

“You could be right about that.” Tap searched the surroun
ding yard and pointed at the big hole at the other end of the house. “You two stay down in the root cellar up against the west wall. When you hear shootin’ from the trees, climb in that wagon and drive all night back to that family of yours. This is a big country out here. Find yourself another piece of it.”

Miller held his hat in his hand and pointed his wide, stubby finger at Tap. “I’m not leavin’. I think I made that clear to you a
lready.”

“I’m not the one you have to convince. I think these boys are hidin’ after robbin’ and rustlin’. They fi
gure if they run you out, you’ll let others know this isn’t a place for nesters. But if they up and kill you, the U.S. Marshal might ride up here and discover their hideout.”

Ezra Miller slumped back against the wall. “In that case we don’t have to worry about being killed.”

“When I dive over the back, jump in the cellar. Your logic works only as long as you want to be burnt out, shot at, and have your animals killed. And then when a couple of these boys get really drunk, they’ll forget their plan and shoot you down anyway.”

Ezra's wide neck turned scarlet. “I think it’s time you left. You’re needlessly frightening the lad.”

Tap turned to the boy. “Peter, your daddy’s a brave man. Don’t you ever think otherwise. And I’m surely sorry to cause you worry. But the only assistance I can offer you is from the barrel of a gun and a lifetime of livin’ in the West. If there comes a time you need my help, let me know.”

“Brother Andrews, I don’t wish to sound ungrateful for your o
ffer of help. I know it’s sincere, but it’s misguided. It’s just something I can’t be a part of.”

“May the Lord be gracious to you. I’ll tell Mrs. Miller you are well.”

“Are you really going to ride straight at those trees?” Peter called out.

“Yep.”

“You’ll be right out in the open. I never heard of anyone doing something like that.”

“Neither have they.”

Tap dove over the back wall and rolled in the hoof-packed mud as two shots rang out. One came from the north, the other from the south.
This will work if they’ve flanked the crick bed and there are only a couple of ’em. ’Course if they were smart, they’d have left one hiding in those trees. Boys, I’m countin’ on you not being that smart.

Tap reached Roundhouse without any more shots being fired. The corral was protected from the sight of the gunmen by a granite cliff jutted out toward the house. The big gray horse spun to the right as Tap cinched down the Visalia saddle. He tried to force his right foot in the off-side tapadera-covered stirrup.

“This is no time for games, horse. You’re goin’ to have to run like the wind.” Tap pulled himself into the saddle, shoved his rifle in the scabbard, and circled the horse to the right. He pulled his Colt .44 from his holster and gripped it with his right hand. He circled the horse behind the burned barn and galloped him straight toward the back of the house.