Outlaw Pass (9781101544785) (18 page)

Pausing every few yards to listen, he eventually made his way to a lone cottonwood that had been blown over by a storm, leaving a large root ball exposed aboveground. This provided excellent cover for him while he listened. In a few minutes, he heard a woman's voice that he guessed might be Bonnie's. She was telling someone to stay where they were while she climbed down to help Finn. In a flash, he got the picture in his mind. Finn was shot! And the old whore was down in the bottom of the gully, leaving no one but Lacey to keep watch. He knew he had to act quickly.

He eased his head up above the top of the root ball. When there were no shots fired his way as a result, he rose a little higher and spotted the young woman lying just beneath the rim of the gully. She held a pistol pointed in his general direction, but at the moment, she was looking back toward the bottom of the gully.
Now!
he told himself, and charged toward the distracted girl. Lacey turned her head back, but not soon enough to prevent Sykes from stomping her hand with his boot. Her scream alerted Bonnie and Finn, but not in time for them to react.

With his boot still pinning Lacey's hand to the ground, and his rifle aimed at Bonnie, he paused to take in the situation. “Go ahead,” he goaded Bonnie when she started to grab her carbine. She froze when she realized she had no chance, for she had neglected to reload the single-shot weapon after shooting Jesse. Sykes laughed. “I'll give you folks this much. You sure as hell made us work for it.” He glanced at Jesse's body crumpled near the wounded man. “'Preciate all the work you did to dig up all that gold for me.” Feeling Lacey's frantic attempts to pull her hand out from under his foot, he reached down and pulled the pistol from her, then shoved her down to join the others. “There, now you're all together. You can all go to hell in one load.” Thoroughly enjoying his advantage, he challenged, “Which one of you wants to go first?”

“You go to hell,” Bonnie spat, and started to reach for the carbine again. She was stopped by a shot into the dirt beside her hand. It effectively stopped her efforts to resist, and she realized there was nothing she could do to prevent the slaughter of the three of them.

“All right,” Sykes said. “I reckon you're volunteerin'.” He swung the rifle around slightly to take dead aim at the defiant woman. The shot that rang out came from the other side of the river, leaving Sykes with a startled expression that would remain on his face throughout eternity as the rifle slug smashed the side of his head and tore through his temple. Dead instantly, even as he was suspended in midair, his corpse crashed down the side of the gully to come to rest beside that of Jesse's.

The three stunned survivors, so near death seconds before, were not sure what had happened for a moment or two until Bonnie looked down toward the end of the gully to discover the imposing figure of Adam Blaine, standing on the far bank of the river, his rifle in hand, a wide streak of dried blood running from the side of his head, down his cheek, to the edge of his jaw. She could not remember having seen a more welcome sight in all her life, and she could not help crying out, “Adam!” Her joyous shout caused Lacey to raise her eyes to discover their grim savior, although he was not the one she had been praying to until that moment. Of the three trapped at the bottom of the gully, only Finn was unable to exhibit a look of joy upon his face, as he grimaced from the pain in his shoulder. “Hurry, Adam!” Bonnie implored. “Before the rest of them get here!”

“No need to hurry now,” Adam assured her, “that's the last of 'em.” His remark brought a shout of joy from Bonnie and a sigh of relief from Lacey. Even Finn managed a painful smile, although his throbbing shoulder told him that his wound needed serious attention. Adam glanced up and down the river, looking for a favorable spot to come back across. Finding none that looked any shallower than the others, he said, “Looks like I'm goin' swimmin' again,” and waded into the water.

“We were afraid we'd lost you,” Bonnie said when Adam was across, her face lit up with a happy smile. “How bad is that?” she asked, pointing toward the dried blood on his face.

“Nothin' serious,” he said, “just slowed me down for a bit, or I'da been here sooner.” His gaze was fixed upon Finn. “How bad is he hurt?”

“Well, it doesn't look too good,” Bonnie said. “I haven't had a chance to take a good look at it, but he thinks his shoulder is broken.”

Adam frowned, hoping that was not the case, especially since it appeared to be his right shoulder, and there was no guarantee they were free of future attacks. “Well, let's see what we can do for him. Then let's get outta this hole you folks are in.” He started at once for the injured little man.

“Damn piece of bad luck,” Finn complained as Adam knelt down to examine his wound. “But I sure am glad to see you. You showed up at the right time. That son of a bitch was fixin' to shoot the three of us, and there wasn't nothin' we could do to stop him.”

Bonnie and Lacey gathered around Finn to offer their help. “We weren't able to help him with those bastards coming at us from both sides,” Bonnie said. “He's lost a lot of blood,” she commented as she got a closer look at the hole in Finn's shoulder.

Adam nodded toward Jesse's body a few feet away. “I see you got one of 'em.”

“Bonnie shot him,” Finn replied, and told Adam how she had tricked the outlaw to drop his guard.

“I'd have gotten the other one if I'd had one of those repeating rifles,” she said. Adam smiled and nodded his approval.

Lacey, silent until that moment, spoke up then to confess, “I still haven't fired my revolver. But I would have if he hadn't stepped on my hand.”

“You ladies did good,” Adam allowed. “Now let's clean Finn's wound as best we can, and then we'll get him on his horse and get outta this hole—find a better place to camp while we decide what to do about gettin' him fixed up.”

After the women bound Finn's shoulder, Adam helped him up in the saddle and tied the lead rope for his mules to the saddle. “Can you stay on that horse?” he asked, and Finn allowed that he damn sure would. Then Adam saw to the women, giving Lacey a lift onto her horse. He had to wait for a couple of minutes while Bonnie traded her Joslyn carbine for the seven-shot Spencer that Jesse had carried, as well as the cartridge belt that went with it. The party of fugitives filed up out of the gully. Adam picked out a jagged ridge in the distance and pointed it out to Bonnie. “You keep headin' toward that ridge and I'll catch up with you in a little bit. There are half a dozen horses tied somewhere behind that rise back there and I might as well go back and get 'em.” He figured that since they were already trailing a string of mules, they might as well drive some extra horses, too. In any case, he couldn't leave them tied up.

“There's one horse in those trees up ahead,” Bonnie said. “We saw him ride by to get around us.”

 

They crossed the Ruby River and continued on for almost a full day when it became apparent that Finn was in no condition to continue. To make matters worse, he began to lose blood again and soon he was unable to remain upright in the saddle. “We're gonna have to find us a place to hole up for a while,” Adam told the women, “at least till Finn heals up enough to ride.” He looked toward the mountain range to their northwest, whose foothills they would have passed through on their way to reach the Madison. Rugged and thick with juniper, fir, and pine along the lower slopes, with many valleys and canyons formed by their higher treeless peaks, they looked to be the travelers' best choice for a hard-to-find campsite.

Bonnie studied his face as he gazed critically at the mountains. “You're thinking about going back up in those mountains,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“I am,” he replied.

“Adam, we'll freeze to death up in those mountains if the weather turns cold,” she said. “And it's about the time of year when the first cold weather hits.”

“I ain't plannin' on spendin' the winter there,” he replied, “just till Finn gets a little better. There's plenty of wood for fires, and there's plenty of game for meat. He needs some rest and some fresh meat to build his blood back up. If we're lucky, he'll heal some in a few days and we can get on to hell away from here. If we don't stop somewhere soon, we're gonna drain the life right out of him.”

“Can't we just make camp right here by this stream?” Lacey asked as she gazed at the foreboding peaks. “If we're just going to be here for a few days, this looks like a good spot.”

Adam looked at the young girl as if explaining to a child. “I don't wanna cause you to worry, Lacey, but it ain't over with Ainsworth and Plummer. We beat those six that came after us back there on the Beaverhead, but there'll be more to follow them. That's why I pushed Finn so hard to stay in the saddle. I expect they'd like to hunt me down for killin' some of their men, but there's another prize that's too big for them to pass up.” He motioned toward the mules. “And I'm afraid they ain't likely to be real forgivin' for any of us, includin' you and Bonnie, especially when they find out the deputy sheriff is lyin' back there dead.”

“But you said you didn't kill Bellou,” Lacey insisted. “They can't blame you for that.”

“There's no way for them to know who shot him. They'll say I did—or got him killed—same thing,” Adam said.

“It don't help none at all that he was the sheriff's nephew,” Finn groaned.

“Adam's right, Lacey,” Bonnie interjected. “They'll be looking for us with everybody they can get on a horse. We've got to find someplace to hide.” She looked at Finn, who was bent over on his horse's neck, unable to sit up any longer, oblivious of the conversation. “Ol' Albert Ainsworth would love to get his hands on those sacks, all right.” She looked back at Adam and grinned wide. “Let's get up in those hills and get busy making a camp.”

Henry Plummer stood staring at the telegram in his hand, a wire that had taken two days to reach him. “Damn it,” he cursed, “a man on horseback could have made it here in that length of time.” He glared at Joe French, as if his deputy was somehow responsible for the lateness of the wire's arrival. “All Ainsworth knows is that they left Bannack and headed north. Hell, they could be anywhere. Ainsworth sent six men to track them, and he's pretty sure they might be trying to sneak out with a helluva big shipment of gold, too big to let slip out of our hands.” He paused to consider where they could be heading, and decided upon two obvious choices, since they were apparently intent upon avoiding the road between Bannack and Virginia City. “They're either planning to keep riding north to Butte or cut back east and head for Three Forks—doesn't make sense to go anywhere else.”

“No, sir,” French commented, “unless they're thinkin' to cross some mighty rugged mountains.”

Still deep in thought, Plummer was oblivious of French's comment. “Joe,” he ordered, “go find Bailey Cruz and tell him I want to see him right now.” French turned immediately to follow Plummer's instructions. “Tell him he's gonna need to get his boys together and ready to ride.”

“Yes, sir,” French replied. Then remembering, he paused before saying, “Ben Caldwell's wife is waitin' out in the office to see you.”

Plummer frowned, but said nothing and followed French out of the cells to the office out front. He waited until French had closed the door behind him before greeting the woman. “Good day, Mrs. Caldwell. What can I do for you?”

“Good morning, Sheriff, or is it Marshal now?” Lois Caldwell asked with a bright smile for the town's law enforcement officer. Taller than average, but not towering, Plummer cut a dashing figure among the ladies of Virginia City. With a brutish forehead framed by thick coal black hair, and cold penetrating eyes, he was a handsome man, who seemed to be a pure guardian of the town's merchants. The fact that he was also a quick and accurate man with a gun was more commonly known by the legion of robbers and murderers he secretly led.

Answering her question with a gracious smile of his own, he said, “Either one will do. How may I help you?”

“Ben was going to come talk to you about it, but he's busy parceling a new shipment of flour that just arrived, so I came instead. We were wondering if there was something that could be done to cut down on the wild drinking at the saloon two doors down from our store. Last night we heard gunshots, and when we opened the store this morning, we found part of our front window broken.”

Plummer fashioned a frown of deep concern for Mrs. Caldwell's benefit and offered his sympathy. “I'm right disturbed to hear that. I'll certainly look into it right away to find the guilty party. I'll try to get your window paid for. Thanks for stopping by to tell me. Sometimes it seems like my whole job calls for keeping the drunks under control, so citizens like you and Ben don't have to worry about their safety.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Lois said. “We appreciate your help.”

“Not at all,” Plummer replied. “That's what I'm here for.” He walked over to the door and held it open for her, returning her smile as she breezed through. As soon as the door was closed, his thoughts returned to the possibility of a sizable amount of gold dust slipping through his fingers.

 

About an hour after Lois Caldwell left the sheriff's office, Joe French returned with Bailey Cruz, a stocky, squarely built brute with long black hair reaching his shoulders. “You wanted to see me?” Cruz asked.

Plummer wasted no time in getting to the problem at hand. “Yeah,” he replied. “I want you to round up some of your men and find somebody for me.” He went on to explain who they would be searching for and which way they had gone. Then he cautioned Cruz that one of the men he would be hunting was the suspected hired gun who had already accounted for more than a half dozen deaths since he hit town. “I'm thinking it might be a good idea to send for Briscoe, since this fellow is supposed to be such a grizzly bear.”