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Authors: William W. Johnstone

A Texas Hill Country Christmas (20 page)

BOOK: A Texas Hill Country Christmas
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C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-SEVEN
One of the outlaws who had been keeping an eye on Evelyn Channing in the cave accompanied Tully back up onto the bluff to resume standing guard up there. The man Chance had shot through the shoulder, whose name was Shaw, stayed below so the other outlaw, Deke, could clean and bandage the wound. Shaw spent a lot of time glaring at Chance.
“I reckon that fella would like to return the favor and put a bullet in you,” Ace said quietly to his brother as they sat on crates and leaned against the wall of the cave. A few feet away, Porter sat likewise with Evelyn, holding her hand.
“I just wish my aim had been a mite better,” Chance said. “We might have been able to get away from the other one.”
“But then Miss Channing would still be a prisoner here.”
“She
is
still a prisoner here,” Chance pointed out.
“Yes, but she would have been on her own,” Ace said. “Now she's got us to help her when the time comes.”
“To make a break, you mean?”
“Yeah, and it needs to be soon.” Ace's voice took on a grim edge. “What do you think's going to happen when Hudson gets back with the rest of the gang?”
“He won't be happy to see us,” Chance said.
Outside, the rain poured down harder and harder. It sounded like a rushing river. More than likely, the rivers around here
were
rushing right about now, thought Ace. At the rate the rain was coming down now, flash flooding was inevitable, and it would probably be widespread. That was going to be dangerous.
On the other hand, it might help slow down the pursuit if he and the others were able to get away from the outlaws.
Their hands weren't tied. Deke and Shaw were a little too over-confident, Ace mused. If he and Chance could get their hands on some guns....
Porter suddenly stood up and walked toward the two owlhoots, who were sitting on the other side of the fire drinking coffee. Deke set his cup down and put that hand on the butt of his gun.
“Hold it right there, mister,” he warned Porter. “What do you think you're doing?”
“I want to offer you men a proposition,” Porter declared.
Shaw let out an ugly laugh and said, “I don't think you've got anything to bargain with.”
“Actually, I do,” Porter insisted.
Evelyn said, “William, no. Please, it won't do any good.”
He looked back at her, smiled, and said, “We'll see.” Then he turned to the outlaws again and went on, “You men are bandits.”
Deke chuckled and said, “I reckon you could say that.”
“You've robbed banks in the past?”
“Sure. Won't hurt anything to admit that.”
Because they figure we'll all soon be dead anyway,
Ace thought.
“It just so happens I work at a bank in Austin,” Porter went on. “So I propose an arrangement. You let Miss Channing go, and I'll help you gentlemen loot every penny in the vault.”
Deke and Shaw stared at him for a moment before Shaw said, “You'd help us rob a bank in Austin?”
“That's right. Strictly
quid pro quo
. Something for something. My help in return for Miss Channing's safety.”
Deke thumbed his hat back and said, “There are two things wrong with that idea, amigo. Our boss is sweet on the lady, and he ain't a man you'd want to cross. If we was to let her go, he'd likely kill us. And the second thing is, Austin's a big town. The chances of ridin' in there, robbin' a bank, and gettin' away with it are too blasted slim, even if it was an inside job like you're talkin' about.”
“Then perhaps I could steal the money and turn it over to you. I'd give you my word—”
Deke shook his head and snapped, “Go back over there and sit down. You're wastin' your time.” He leaned forward to pick up the coffee cup he had set down.
As the outlaw did that, Porter did something that none of them expected, not even Ace and Chance.
He kicked the coffee pot off the rock where it was sitting near the edge of the fire, keeping warm, and sent it right into Deke's face.
Deke howled as the heated metal burned his skin. He jerked back and toppled off the crate where he'd been sitting. Beside him, Shaw cursed and clawed at the gun on his hip. His left shoulder was bandaged and that arm hung in a crude sling, but his gun hand still worked just fine.
However, Ace and Chance lunged forward from their crates as soon as Porter made his desperate move. Shaw had barely cleared leather when Ace threw himself across the fire in a diving tackle. Shaw was half-standing as Ace caught him around the waist and drove him backward. When they landed, the back of Shaw's head slammed against the rocky floor of the cave. He went limp.
Chance went after Deke, hurtling past Porter. Deke was still yelling in pain from his burned face, but he had his gun out and swung it up. Chance grabbed the barrel and thrust it aside just as Deke pulled the trigger. The bullet thudded into the cave's back wall.
Chance swung a hard right to Deke's jaw. The blow landed cleanly with all of Chance's lithe strength behind it. Deke's head jerked to the side, and he folded up as limply as Shaw had.
Ace and Chance scooped up the outlaws' guns while Porter ran back over to Evelyn to make sure she was all right. She embraced him and exclaimed, “Oh, William! That was so brave!”
“Foolhardy and desperate, you mean, my dear,” he said. “But there was nothing else I could do.”
“The two up on the bluff will have heard that shot,” Ace said to Chance. “We'd better grab our guns while we can.”
They hurried over to where the outlaws had piled their gunbelts and quickly buckled on the weapons.
Chance said, “Maybe it's raining so hard they didn't hear that gun go off—”
The sharp crack of a rifle shot destroyed that hope. The bullet whipped through the air between the Jensen brothers.
“Will, get down!” Ace shouted to Porter, who grabbed Evelyn and dived to the ground, taking her with him. They scrambled on hands and knees behind some of the supply crates.
Ace and Chance split up, heading for different sides of the cave as fast as they could move. More shots rang out. The brothers returned the fire on the run. They couldn't see the rifleman but knew he had to be close to the cave mouth.
Chance found cover among the half-dozen horses in the rope corral, while Ace made himself as small as he could behind a little shoulder of rock. Ace had hoped they could get out of here before the other two outlaws closed off the cave, so they could fight in the open, but that wasn't going to happen. They were pinned down in here, and it wouldn't be difficult for Tully and the other man to keep them trapped until Hudson and the rest of the gang returned.
When that happened, Hudson would have even more reason for wanting the Jensens and William Porter dead. . . .
“Chance!” Ace called to his brother. “We can't stay here. We've got to make a break for it.”
“How?” Chance asked. “They've got us bottled up.”
“Cover me. I'm coming over where you are.”
Chance opened fire with his own Colt and the gun he had picked up. As he blasted shot after shot toward the entrance, Ace sprinted across the cave toward the corral. A couple of bullets smacked into the ground near his feet and two more whined past his head, but he made the corral without getting hit and ducked under the rope.
All the shooting had made the horses skittish. Ace knew it wouldn't take much to make them bolt toward the opening. In fact, he was counting on it.
“We'll stampede them out of here and be hanging on the sides of a couple of them, the way the Indians do,” he explained his plan to Chance. “Once we get outside, we'll take our chances with the other two.”
“Reckon there's not much else we can do,” Chance agreed. “Better tell Will what we're up to, though, so he and Evelyn won't think we're running out on them.”
Ace knew the men outside couldn't hear them in that steady downpour, but he kept his voice down as much as he could anyway as he called over to Porter and Evelyn and quickly explained the plan.
“Do I need to come with you?” Porter asked.
“No, it'll be better if you stay there and look after Miss Channing,” Ace said. He knew that Porter was a decent rider but didn't think the would-be writer was up to the sort of thing he and Chance were going to attempt.
“Good luck!” Porter called.
“We'll need it,” Chance said under his breath.
There was no time to saddle the horses. The brothers swung up bareback on their usual mounts and jabbed their boot heels into the animals' flanks. The horses lunged against the others, and that was all it took to send all of them pressing against the ropes until the barrier gave way. Like a wave, the spooked horses dashed toward the open air.
Ace and Chance slipped down on the sides of their mounts, clinging to the horses with one hand and one foot. It was a dangerous ride. If they fell off, they stood a good chance of being trampled.
As they burst out of the cave, the horses scattered. That gave Ace and Chance room to drop off. They rolled and came up with their guns ready. The rain was coming down so hard it was difficult to see, but then muzzle flame spurted through the gloom from near the cave mouth. Ace and Chance returned the fire and heard a man yell in pain. At least one of them had scored a hit.
Another rifle crack sounded and Chance's left leg went out from under him. Ace leaped to his brother's side and knelt there as he slammed a couple of shots toward the second rifleman. He triggered again, but the hammer fell on an empty cylinder. The other gun he had picked up was already empty.
A menacing shape loomed out of the downpour. The outlaw called Tully stood there in his slicker, rain running off his hat brim like a river as he pointed a Winchester at them.
“Blast it, this is no weather for foolin' around,” he snapped, raising his voice to be heard over the rain. “I think you killed Packy. I'm tired of this, and I know now you were just lookin' for that gal. The boss'll have to be satisfied with that—and your carcasses.”
The rifle barrel came up a little as the outlaw brought the weapon to his shoulder. Ace knew he was going to kill both of them and was ready to try a last-ditch leap that probably wouldn't get him anything except a bullet in the face—when another shot roared and Tully was driven back by the bullet that hit him. He didn't fall, though, until two more shots blasted from somewhere behind Ace and Chance.
Ace had no idea who had come to their rescue. He glanced down at Chance, who was conscious and holding his wounded leg, then turned his head to look behind them.
A tall, dark figure strode out of the curtains of rain. The stranger wore a poncho of some sort over black clothes and had a black hat pulled low over his face. The light wasn't good, but Ace was able to make out roughhewn features and a neatly trimmed mustache. The man held a Winchester pointed in the general direction of the Jensen boys.
“I know that was Tully Moran, a wanted outlaw,” the stranger said in a deep, powerful voice, “but I don't know who you two young gentlemen are. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't move too quickly until I'm sure what the situation is here.”
“Mister,” Chance said through teeth gritted against the pain of his wound, “I'm not gonna be going anywhere very fast with a bullet hole in my leg.”
“We were prisoners of that fella and the gang he is with,” Ace explained. “There are a couple more inside the cave.”
“More prisoners or more outlaws?” the stranger asked.
“Both,” Ace said. “They had a friend of ours and a young woman, and there are two owlhoots we knocked out while we were trying to get away.”
“We'd better check on that, then, before those outlaws regain consciousness.” The dark stranger finally lowered his rifle. “I can trust you, I take it?”
“Mister, we're so grateful to you right now you don't have a thing to worry about,” Ace assured him. “Who are you, and how'd you happen to show up just now?”
“I've been doing a little outlaw-hunting of my own,” the man said as he started past Ace and Chance. “And as for who I am—the name's Luke Jensen.”
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-EIGHT
As Seth looked through the rain-shrouded hills at the looming bulk of Enchanted Rock, he thought how primitive this land appeared in these conditions, like a prehistoric wilderness filled with savage dangers.
And that was right, he told himself. Because somewhere out there, waiting to kill him, was Oliver Hudson.
The trail was awash with water. Every little gully was full and running swiftly, and sheets of water lay over the fields and the road. Mud sucked at the hooves of Felix Dugan's horse. The rain continued to fall, pounding against Seth like millions of tiny fists.
Whatever happened to him today, he deserved it, he told himself. But Charlie and Delta didn't. Charlie's life and Delta's happiness were at risk because of him, and knowing that gnawed at his guts like a hungry buzzard.
Four men on horseback suddenly appeared in the sodden gloom up ahead, urging their mounts out of a stand of bare-limbed trees next to the road. Seth would have spotted them before now if it hadn't been raining so hard, but he couldn't miss them as they blocked his path. His hands wanted to reach for the guns under his slicker, but he reined in the impulse. He couldn't just start shooting without knowing what he faced.
He didn't stop until he was close enough to see their faces under their hat brims. The rugged, unshaven features were familiar. None of them belonged to Oliver Hudson, however.
One of the men urged his horse forward a step and called out over the rain, “Hold it right there, Sam! Keep your hands where we can see 'em.”
“Don't worry, Cameron,” Seth told the outlaw. “I don't plan to start the ball. And the name's Seth Barrett now.”
That brought a short laugh from the man, who went on, “You're Sam Brant and you always will be. Callin' yourself something else don't change a blasted thing.”
Unfortunately, Cameron was probably right about that, thought Seth. His dreams of a new life were over, shattered by the inevitability of the past.
“Where's the boy?” Seth asked harshly.
“The boss has him. The kid's all right. He ain't been hurt. All you got to do to save him is turn over the loot you stole from us.”
A bleak smile touched Seth's face as he said, “I guess I forgot there was supposed to be honor among thieves.”
“I reckon you did,” Cameron said. “Now shuck your irons and let's go. We'll take you to the boss.”
Slowly, Seth shook his head.
“I'm not giving up my guns.”
The four outlaws stiffened. Seth could tell that they were getting ready to draw on him.
“I wouldn't,” he snapped.
“Four of us and one of you,” Cameron said. “I know you're good with a gun, Sam, but you can't take all four of us and you know it.”
“And if you kill me, Hudson will never get his hands on that money. I know
that
, too.”
The argument went home. Cameron scowled in frustration.
“Hudson said we was to take your guns. He don't take it kindly when folks don't do what he tells 'em.”
“He'll like it even less if all this turns out to be for nothing, won't he?” Seth said. “That's what will happen if you force me to fight.”
Cameron turned his head and exchanged glances with the other men. Then he looked at Seth again and said, “All right. Keep your irons.” He drew a Winchester from the saddle sheath on his horse and worked the lever. “But if you try anything I'll kill you anyway, and devil take the hindmost.”
Seth shrugged and walked his horse forward. The outlaws parted and let him through, then fell in around him.
“Lead the way,” he told Cameron. “I want to get this over with as much as you boys do.”
 
 
Under different circumstances, Ace would have been shocked that the man who had just saved him and Chance had the same last name, but right now there was no time for that.
Instead he helped Chance to his feet as Luke Jensen strode toward the cave mouth.
“Can you walk?” Ace asked his brother.
“Yeah, it'll hurt like blazes, but I can get around. We'd better try to catch up. If Will's gotten his hands on a gun, he's liable to get nervous in there.”
That was a good point, thought Ace. He didn't want Porter to take Luke for one of the outlaws and try to shoot him.
Besides, as grim and hard-bitten as Luke Jensen looked, if Porter took a shot at him, it would probably be the young writer who got ventilated.
Ace looped an arm around Chance's waist. They went after Luke, Chance hobbling considerably as they did so. Ace called, “Wait a minute, Mr. Jensen.”
Luke paused and looked back over his shoulder.
“I thought you said there are two more outlaws in there.”
“There are,” Ace said. “But it probably wouldn't be a good idea to spook our friend Will.”
Luke leaned his head toward the cave and said, “Better let him know to hold his fire, then.”
Ace nodded and called, “Will! Hey, Will, don't shoot! We're all friends coming in.”
Luke grunted, and as the three of them started forward again he said, “I don't recall telling you boys we were friends. All I know about you is that I don't recognize your faces from any reward dodgers I've seen.”
“That's because we're not wanted anywhere,” Ace said.
“That we know of,” Chance added. He grimaced with each step he took.
“What are your names?”
“I'm Ace, and this is my brother Chance.” Ace paused, then added, “Our last name is Jensen.”
Luke stopped and looked over at the brothers as he raised one eyebrow skeptically.
“Really?”
“Yes, sir,” Ace said. “It's not that uncommon a name.”
“We even met the famous Smoke Jensen a while back,” Chance put in.
Luke stared at them for a moment longer, then abruptly he laughed.
“All right, whatever you say, boys,” he told them. “Let's go see about those other two owlhoots.”
As they walked into the cave, Ace saw that Deke and Shaw had regained consciousness, but Porter and Evelyn stood about fifteen feet from them, shakily pointing guns at them.
“Chance, you're wounded!” Porter exclaimed.
“I'll be all right,” Chance told him.
Luke looked at the two outlaws and said, “Deke Connolly and Nate Shaw. You two aren't worth much, but it all adds up, I suppose.”
Shaw curled his lip and said, “You talk like a stinkin' bounty hunter, mister.”
“Keep a civil tongue in your head or I'll kick your teeth down your throat,” Luke said. “Ace . . .” He rolled his eyes, no doubt an indication of what he thought about the names the Jensen boys went by. “Help your brother sit down so the young lady can tend to his wound. Then you and Mister . . . ?”
“Porter, sir. William Sydney Porter.”
“You and Porter can tie up these two while I cover them. And if they try anything, you'd better get out of the way in a hurry, because there
will
be gunfire. While you're doing that, you can tell me what's going on here.”
The next few minutes were busy ones. Evelyn used a knife she found to cut away the trouser leg around Chance's wound while Ace and Porter tied up the two outlaws. Luke Jensen stood there, still dripping water from his poncho and hat and kept an eye on everybody.
When Evelyn had cleaned away as much of the mud as she could from the deep bullet graze in Chance's thigh, Luke reached under his poncho with his left hand and brought out a small silver flask. He tossed it to Evelyn and said, “Pour some of that on the wound, then bind it up. And that's the best bourbon money can buy, young man, so I hope you appreciate the sacrifice.”
“Oh, I reckon I—Ouch!” Chance said as the fiery liquor bit into his flesh.
The heat from the fire was starting to dry all of them a little by the time Deke and Shaw were trussed up securely and Chance's leg was bandaged with strips of cloth discreetly sliced from Evelyn's rather bedraggled petticoat. That was the cleanest dressing they were going to find around here.
“Now I suppose I should get my horse and round up some of the mounts you stampeded out of here,” Luke said. “Then we can all get started for Fredericksburg. That's the nearest town, isn't it?”
“That's right,” Ace said.
Evelyn gnawed her bottom lip for a second, then said, “We can't leave.”
Luke looked at her and said, “Oh? Why not?”
“Because I heard them talking . . .” She looked at Ace, Chance, and Porter. “Before the three of you were captured, I mean. When I was a prisoner here by myself. I heard Oliver giving orders and . . . and boasting about what they were going to do.”
“You mean Oliver Hudson?” Luke asked.
Evelyn nodded and said, “That's right. He's the leader of this gang of outlaws.”
“He is
now
,” Luke said. “He didn't used to be.”
“I know. That's part of what I heard.” Evelyn took a deep breath. “He told the others they were going to kidnap a small boy, and that once they did that, someone named Sam would do anything they told him. I think Oliver means to kill this man Sam, whoever he is.”
“I wouldn't doubt it a bit,” Luke said. “And you're right, miss. Under the circumstances, we can't leave. Not with a boy's life at stake.”
Ace frowned and said, “Mr. Jensen, you seem to have a pretty good idea who all these people are and what's going on here.”
“That's right. I've been on Sam Brant's trail for quite a while.” Luke lifted the Winchester in his hands. “And I don't reckon I'm leaving the Hill Country without him.”
BOOK: A Texas Hill Country Christmas
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