The Cowboy Who Strolled Into Town (104 page)

‘Well, well, well! If it isn’t the heroic barn singer!’ Bill said with discernible contempt. ‘You may have got the better of me earlier this evening Lane Hayes, but now I have you right where I want you.’  Lane tried to rise to his feet but he was losing blood from his leg and feared it might not take his weight. Bill aimed a pointed boot at Lane’s wound, causing him to cry out. More masked riders appeared. One of them slid off his horse and strode up to Lane. As he looked up at the man, Lane blanched. ‘Jake! You one of them? I thought you were one of the good guys!’ Lane exclaimed, crying out in pain as Bill aimed his pointed boot at his wounded leg once again.

‘Back off Bill!’ Jake growled, ‘Let me handle him.’

Bill was mutinous. ‘You back off Jake. I owe Lane Hayes a bullet from my pistol and I fully intend to pay that debt.’

‘I said, back off!’ Jake hollered, ‘I told you I will handle him and I will.’

‘Who made you the boss of me?’ Bill snarled.

‘I did. I brought in the big guns, didn’t I? I got the Sheriff to play along with us, right? So I’m the boss of you. And if you don’t cooperate, then I will go get my friend the Sheriff and he will make you shut up for good.’

‘Why are you protecting Lane Hayes? He your friend or something?’ Bill accused.

‘I’m protecting us. If you put a bullet into Lane Hayes or anyone else, we will be hunted down good and proper by vigilantes from every county and there won’t be a trace left of us.’

Bill backed away, but not before kicking Lane in his stomach. Lane groaned and passed out. When he came to he was in what appeared to be a tool shed. He tried to move his leg but the pain made him abort the attempt. Darkness fell over him like a thick stifling cloak, and Lane gasped for breath.

‘You ok?’ a voice asked.

‘Who is that?’

‘Me. Jake.’

Lane lay back, still gasping. ‘I need air. But you won’t help me by opening a door or a window, will you?’

‘No,’ Jake replied, ‘But only because I am concerned for your safety.’

‘Is that a fact,’ Lane remarked ironically. ‘I didn’t know you were an armed robber, Jake.’

‘Sshh,’ Jake cautioned, ‘They’re still looking for you, you know.’

‘Who?’

‘The real robbers.’

‘Real? Aren’t you one of them?’

‘I’m supposed to be, but I’m not.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I work with the Sheriff.’

‘Oh, you get his money for him?’

‘No. I make people believe that he’s with them, when he’s not. It’s the Sheriff’s plan to root out the masked gang and put them behind bars once for all. Everything was going according to plan until you came along and mucked things up.’

‘I was trying to help.’

‘You assumed you were, Lane. Vigilante justice is not justice at all. It’s your ego talking.’

‘I vowed to avenge Mary’s death.’

‘And you will if you cooperate right now. Let me do my job while you keep quiet.’

‘What is your job?’

‘To gain the confidence of this gang and then turn them in to the Sheriff.’

‘And how far have you got with the plan? Sounds far-fetched to me.’

‘On the contrary, it’s the only way to get these guys. But only if you play along and don’t interfere as you’ve been doing.’

‘Well I can’t do much now, can I?’ Lane murmured, acutely aware of the injury to his leg.

‘Yes, if you hadn’t been there, you’d not have a bullet in your leg. I’ve taken it out, by the way.’

‘How?’

‘Don’t ask too many questions, Lane Hayes. Lie still and get your strength up.’

Lane shifted uneasily. ‘How do you know Bill?’

‘He’s part of the masked gang.’ Jake gave a wry laugh. ‘I don’t know him intimately though. Just know enough to let me know he’s bad news and not to be tangled with.’

‘Can I go home now?’ Lane asked.

‘How? Your horse is gone and I’m sure as hell not going to blow my cover by taking you back on my horse.’

‘So are you going to leave me here to bleed to death?’

‘You’ve stopped bleeding as much. But you need to stay here, for a while.’

‘What difference does it make?’

‘I’m supposed to be punishing you – teaching you a lesson for daring to interfere with the work of the masked gang. If I let you go home now, my credibility is called into question and I cannot let that happen when we’re this close to nabbing the gang.’

‘Please…’ Lane whispered to Jake, ‘just make sure Chivonn is safe and unhurt by that brute Bill.’

‘I will do what I can,’ Jake promised.

Chivonn shivered in the darkness. Instinctively she knew that something was wrong, or Lane would have been back by now. She had nobody to turn to for help and felt powerless.

‘Rosie!’ she called out, knocking on her door.

‘Chivonn! That you? What’s wrong?’ Rosie opened the door, a worried frown on her brow.

‘Lane went away four days ago and hasn’t returned.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Rosie replied, her frown deepening.

‘We need to do something about it, Rosie. Perhaps we need to inform the Sheriff…or somebody.’

‘Or we could send out a search party ourselves.’

‘Could we? Why didn’t we do so earlier?’

‘Because Lane Hayes is a private person. He doesn’t tell us where he goes and what he does when he goes.’

‘So does he go away like this very often?’

‘Well,’ Rosie whispered, ‘it’s always at night, and always for a few hours.’

‘Never days?’

‘No. Not until now.’

‘In that case, Rosie, are you as worried as I am?’

‘Yes. Yes I am.’

‘Ok then, let’s get going and find Lane.’

‘You’re not going anywhere, Chivonn, and neither am I. This is a man’s job. Besides, I was asked to look out for you.’

‘That’s it, then. I’m going.’

‘Did I not just say I was asked to look out for you? How do you think you can go anyway? Can you ride?’

Chivonn looked despondent. ‘No, I can’t ride. But I can drive a car.’

‘You’re going to take Lane Hayes’ Ford out over the meadowland? We don’t even know which direction he took.’ Rosie patted Chivonn’s hand. Go back to bed, Chivonn. I will get some of the men up and ready to go in search of Lane. She paused and looked intently into Chivonn’s eyes. ‘Please don’t even think of going off looking for him yourself. It will only cause him more concern if anything were to happen to you.’

Chivonn returned to her room but couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned for a while and then sat up resolutely. She pulled on her dressing gown and went into Lane’s room to look for some evidence of where he had gone. She was not one to snoop but something told her the situation was serious. She looked around the room, at the pictures on the walls and the view through his window. Then she sat down on his bed and buried her face in his pillow, trying not to let the panic build. Everything about the room was so neat. She picked up the guitar in the corner and strummed a few chords, but replaced it quickly because it made her think of the night at the barn when she and Lane sang that duet which somehow had left so many unasked questions hanging in the air. Chivonn left the bed and wandered about the room. There was a sheaf of papers on a table and she looked through them in wonder, because they had the scribbled lyrics of songs that Lane had written. She went across to the chest of drawers and scanned the contents briefly, her face flushed. She wanted to hold the garments against her, to bury her face in them…

She checked the closet next, and that’s when she found a folded sheet of paper with a blood stain on it. She turned on another lamp to get a closer look and unwrapped the paper, her heart hammering. The paper tore slightly as she opened out the folds and there it was – the shirt that Lane had been wearing on the night he was on the train. Chivonn’s eyes widened and she pulled the shirt open. The blood was stiff and dry on the shoulder. She gasped. The bandana he had worn was also wrapped in the paper, and from the stains it had on it, Chivonn figured it must have been used to staunch the blood on his shoulder. She hurriedly wrapped the shirt up again, looking guiltily over her shoulder, and more than ever convinced that wherever Lane had gone, he was in danger.

Chivonn returned to her room and washed her hands over and over, fear gnawing at the pit of her stomach. She sat on the edge of her bed wondering what she should do. She could take the car to the point where the trains passed by and then look around the surrounding areas for Lane. But she needed an ally. She heard the sound of horses’ hooves and prayed that the men going out now would somehow find Lane.

In the meanwhile Lane waited in the darkness of the strange room.

‘Let me go, Jake, please,’ Lane asked weakly, but there was no answer.

‘Jake? Jake? Are you there?’ Lane squinted into the darkness but saw nothing. He realized he must have drifted off and that Jake had probably left to rejoin the masked gang. He moved his hands about the floor where he lay on a pile of sacks. ‘Jake?’ Lane called out softly again. He raised himself up on one arm and tried to move his leg, clenching his teeth to prevent himself from crying out with pain. He tried to listen for familiar sounds – anything to give him an indication of where he was. A train whistled in the distance, so he knew he was far from the point at which the gang had attacked. He flexed his arms and hands to get his circulation going and lifted his good leg, testing its strength. By dawn Lane could see around the shed and he found a handy piece of wood, placed quite strategically beside him, no doubt by Jake. It took Lane a while to raise himself to his feet, and once he was up, the pain in his leg was intense. But the need to get away made him strong, and he eased open the door, bit by bit, until he could see outside. Streaks of dawn were just about breaking through the leaves overhead, and Jake looked about him, recognizing the stretch of forested land he used to ride through. His temporary hiding place was a windowless shed which he was glad to leave behind, but he was filled with consternation at what lay around him. He began to hobble forward, shivering a little from the bracing morning air, but Lane had not only a strong body but a strong will. He mastered the art of using the piece of wood for support and was soon making good progress, ignoring the pain as he moved along.

The search party that Rosie had sent out had been scanning the landscape all night, the men taking different directions and combing the countryside on their horses. All of them carried pistols. They were not sure who or what their enemy was, but all of them were acutely aware that Lane’s life was in peril. Two of them found the shed, empty now, but they spotted the blood on the floor and the grass outside; noticing how the turf had been flattened at regular intervals by the piece of wood that even now was taking Lane’s weight as he leaned on it for support. As they followed the tracks, they heard shouts and hollers from the other men in their search party and galloped away to find them.

Lane stopped briefly by a tree to catch his breath, looking about him anxiously. That was when he heard the hum of an engine. There was something familiar about it, and he cocked his ear to listen more intently. The sound drew nearer and Lane’s heart leapt. It was his Ford. He was sure of it. He wanted to shout out but he daren’t. He kept moving in the direction of the engine, but disappointingly, it moved away and grew fainter.

When the two men who had found the shed joined the rest of their search party, it was to see tracks of Lane’s Ford. They could recognize them instantly because nobody else in the vicinity had a similar car. Some of the men went off in pursuit of the car whilst the others returned to look for Lane.

Chivonn’s heart was racing as she stepped on the accelerator. She didn’t know this part of the country at all. She was just driving blindly, hoping at some point to find Lane. She retraced her path, honking now as the morning light made her bolder, and her efforts were rewarded. Lane heard the sound of the car horn and moved more quickly into the clearing, but stayed behind a tree until he was certain that it wasn’t one of the masked gang making off with his prized vehicle. When he saw Chivonn behind the wheel, he could have leaped for joy. He waved frantically, and she raced towards him, anxiety contorting her features. She was crying and laughing all at the same time as she jumped out of the car and ran towards him – tears eclipsing the laughter when she saw his wounded leg.

The search party had heard the horn too, and followed it, surprised to find Chivonn already there with Lane. There were whoops of joy and clucks of concern as together they got Lane into the back of the car.

‘I’ll go and get a doctor,’ one of the men said and Chivonn nodded, driving carefully over the bumpy paths.

Lane was quiet, loss of blood and the effort of hauling himself on one leg over the uneven terrain, sapping him of any energy.

‘Are you alright?’ Chivonn asked, glancing over her shoulder.

‘Yes,’ Lane whispered, but she didn’t hear him. She concentrated on getting back to the Ranch House as quickly as possible, grateful when they finally drove up to the front porch. The search party was already there and so were Rosie and the housekeeper. The men lifted Lane out of the car and up to his room. Chivonn called for hot water and strips of clean linen. She bathed Lane’s wound with warm water and alcohol, and bandaged it up with strips of linen. The doctor arrived a while later, and dressed the wound again.