Beneath a Dakota Cross (21 page)

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Authors: Stephen A. Bly

BOOK: Beneath a Dakota Cross
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Todd tipped the army hat, then placed it back on his head.

I see the hat. It is strange.

“Got word you boys needed a little help.” Brazos could feel the frigid air burn his mouth and throat.

Neither son left their stance to come to the wagon. Todd stood an inch or two taller than Robert. His broad shoulders, square, whisker-covered chin, and blue-gray eyes always brought comparison to his father, but Brazos knew that never in his life had he been as handsome as Todd.

“Hi, li'l sis. Didn't know Daddy would be bringin' you out,” Todd called out. His voice sounded nervous, flat.

Brazos parked the wagon twenty feet short of the fire, so he could study both freight wagons. The way the rigs were parked he couldn't tell if anyone, or anything, was on the far side of the wagons or not.

“Dacee June's just like a wart.” There was no humor in the tone of Brazos's words. “No matter how hard I try, I can't get rid of her.”

“Daddy!”

Robert rubbed his mustache with the palm of his hand, holding out all four fingers and his thumb.

Five of them? Or maybe four . . . should I count the thumb?

“Robert, where's Jamie Sue?” Dacee June blurted out. “We thought she came out with you.”

Two gun-toting men burst out from between the wagons, with two hostages in front of them. A small, middle-aged man with a woolly, flapped bill cap pulled down over his ears . . . and Jamie Sue Milan. “She's right here with us, Fortune,” the man with the shotgun said. His black and purple wool muffler was wrapped around his neck and up over his mouth, his hat pulled low.

Two other men with Winchester '73 carbines posed at each end of the freight wagons.

That only makes four. Robert signaled five, I think. I wonder if they meant that the fifth one was the one who came to town.
“Do I know you?”

“You do now. What do you have under that canvas?”

“Firewood,” Brazos reported. “I didn't know you had anything to burn out here.”

“Well, that sure is nice of you. That way it will take the corpses longer to freeze.”

“Who did you kill?”

“No one, yet,” the man sneered. “Toss that Sharps to the snow.”

“I'd like to keep it,” Brazos insisted. “It's sort of a family heirloom.”

“Throw it to the ground, Fortune, or Jamie Sue here takes a bullet in the brain.”

Brazos let the hammer down to safety, then tossed the carbine into the snow. “What's this all about?”

The man scooted to the fire circle, yanking Jamie Sue in front of him as a shield. “I'll tell you what it's about. We rode out here just to rob your freight. Figured it would be winter wages if we took it to Montana and sold it. But Jamie Sue happened to mention that the boy's name was Fortune. I just couldn't resist callin' you out. I'm mighty glad C. W. could ride into town and convince you to come out here on Christmas Day. Yes, sir, it just warms a heart to see such family dedication. Or maybe you came out just so you wouldn't lose money on freight.”

“Mister, I still don't know who you are,” Brazos reiterated.
The fifth must be good old C. W.
“Have we met?”

“Oh, we met . . . we just ain't been introduced. Most folks call me Doc. Doc Kabyo.”

Brazos felt his neck burn. “You killed a good friend of mine down on Lightning Creek.”

“He shot at Doc first. Two times,” the man next to Kabyo reported. “I ought to know. I was there.”

“He isn't a real doctor,” the small man in the heavy wool topcoat standing next to Jamie Sue reported.

“Shut up,” Kabyo growled at the man.

Brazos pointed at the man in the woolly hat. “Who's this?”

“He's a dentist,” Robert reported.

The man's expression was somewhere between terror and pride. “Dr. Nash is the name. Most just call me Tooth Nash. I'm goin' to begin a practice in Deadwood City.”

“That remains to be seen, Mr. Nash.” Brazos glanced at the nervous little man, then back at Kabyo.
From this distance I can't read his eyes. It's hard to size a man if you can't read his eyes.
“Kabyo, you hold the guns. So it's your play. What's this all about, besides a little revenge?”

“Don't sell revenge short,” Kabyo asserted. “It's settled many a conflict. But I don't need to do any more killin'. I plan on lettin' you walk back to Deadwood. But I will shoot you right here, if you don't tell me what I want to know.”

“What is that?”

“I want Hook Reed's map, the one he won in a poker game in Tucson, Arizona. The one that showed the location of the Dakota cross. You chased us off, just when we located Hook. That's not happening this time.”

“It's a worthless map,” Brazos reported. “We searched the hills for months and didn't find its location.”

“Good. Then you wouldn't mind givin' it up,” Kabyo said.

“I didn't bring the map out here.”

“Maybe you can just draw it on the ground for me.”

“I don't know what's on it.”

“That's a lie. Nobody totes a treasure map without studying it over and over. You said you searched for months. You got it memorized and you know it.”

“I forget easy.”

Kabyo grabbed Jamie Sue's black hair. Her hood tumbled to her back. He shoved the barrel of his revolver into her cheek. Robert rushed towards him, and the man next to Kabyo slammed the barrel of his carbine over Robert's head.

He crumpled to the ground. Then the assailant shoved the barrel of the gun into Todd's stomach. “That ain't smart, brother,” he warned.

“Now maybe your memory has improved,” Kabyo called out. “I'm cold, hungry, and tired of this blasted snow. I'm tellin' you the truth, I'll kill them if you don't tell me what was on that map.”

Brazos stared down at his carbine in the snow. “I'm tryin' to remember . . .”

“Try harder,” Kabyo hollered.

Jamie Sue whimpered as he yanked on her hair.

“What are you going to do with a gold claim, Kabyo? You boys aren't exactly the types to do hard labor in the stream.”

“Gold claim? Oh, it's a gold mine, all right,” Kabyo laughed. “Sixty thousand dollars in twenty-dollar gold pieces.”

“Gold coins?” Brazos said.

“The Union Pacific robbery, a year ago September. The old boys who stole the funds near Cheyenne headed north to the Missouri River. But they got trapped by Sioux and had to stash the gold in the Black Hills. Only one made it out, and he only brought enough money to reoutfit and go back after it. But he lost the map in a poker game down in Tucson to Hook Reed. He unfortunately had a memory lapse in the alley and died.”

“So you couldn't beat it out of him?”

“He was a dumb, stubborn man. I trust you aren't that dumb, nor stubborn. Now, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to shoot a person every sixty seconds until you tell me the contents of that map.”

“How do you know I didn't already dig up those gold coins?” Brazos challenged.

“Because you were surprised when I told you it was coins. You thought it was a mining claim. Are you going to tell me? Or do I send Miss Jamie Sue to her heavenly reward?”

“I'll tell you. What choice do I have?” Brazos spoke much louder than was necessary. “You've got one man at the head of the wagons, another at the foot, both holding .44-40 carbines. Then you two have guns pointed at my friends and family. That makes four of you against me, and my gun's in the snow.”

“You're smarter than you look, Fortune. What about that map?”

“Maybe I could get down and draw it in the snow.”

“Get down slow,” Kabyo barked.

Brazos tucked the buffalo robe around the wide-eyed Dacee June.

He stood up on the wagon.

“Keep your hands away from your vest,” Kabyo called out.

Brazos raised his hands, then climbed off the wagon.

“Come over here and draw us the map,” Kabyo ordered.

“Over here next to the wagon is smoother snow,” Brazos reported. “The snow's melted around that campfire.”

Kabyo shoved Jamie Sue and the dentist in front of him. “Go on over there,” he growled. “You men keep the two sons covered.”

Brazos glanced at Todd, who stooped down to help Robert struggle to sit up, his head in his hands. Then he looked straight at the other outlaws. “You fellas wonder why Kabyo doesn't want you to see this map I'm goin' to draw?”

“Shut up,” Kabyo yelled.

“Might be he doesn't plan on dividin' up that railroad gold, after all.” Brazos stooped down by the wagon. “Could be he don't want you to know.”

Kabyo's face grew beet red. His words fogged the air in front of him. “I told you to shut up!” He pointed his revolver at Brazos's head.

“Don't that beat all, boys? He's ready to shoot me, and I'm the only one on earth who knows what that map says.”

“Don't shoot him, Doc,” the man near the front wagon called out. “At least, not yet.”

“Come on over, boys,” Brazos called out. “You might as well all take a look.”

“Stay there and cover the sons,” Kabyo hollered.

“Shoot, Doc, we can cover them from over there. I'm half froze waitin' for Fortune to show. Figure I'd like to see that there map myself,” the man at the front end of the freight wagons called out.

Brazos began to draw in the snow with a gloved finger. The outlaws quickly huddled around him. “Now here's what's on that map. On the right is a big river.”

“A what?” one of the men asked.

“A BIG RIVER!”

“There ain't no big river in the Black Hills.”

“Boys, if it was easy to find, I would have found it by now. I'm just tellin' you about the map. In the middle was a wide stretch of grass.”

“You mean a meadow?” Kabyo pressed.

“I mean GRASS!” Brazos shouted.

“What is those two triangles over on the left?” Kabyo pointed to the snow with his revolver.

“Those aren't triangles. Those are mountain peaks.”

“They don't look like mountain peaks.”

“I'm not a very good artist,” Brazos explained. “This one on the end is QUIET Mountain and the one next to it is TALKING Mountain.”

“That's funny names for mountains.”

“You know how them Indians are with their names,” Brazos explained.

“And where's them gold eagles buried?”

“NOW, that's what I'm gettin' at.”

“Well,” Kabyo insisted.

“I said, NOW . . . that's what I'm gettin' at . . . right NOW!” Brazos hollered.

At the final “now,” Big River Frank, Grass Edwards, and the Jims threw back the tarp, each of them pointing a gun at a different outlaw.

“Drop the guns, boys!” Brazos commanded.

Kabyo raised his hands but held on to his revolver. The others dropped their guns in the snow.

Brazos scooped up his Sharps carbine and cocked the hammer. “You're lookin' at Hook Reed's friends, Kabyo. Ever'one of us would love for you to give us a reason for shootin' you. I said, drop it!”

“Dad,” Todd hollered, “there's five of them!”

“The other one's still in Deadwood,” Brazos replied.

A short man with a dark, wool coat slipped out from behind a freight wagon and pointed a battered Henry rifle at Dacee June. “The sixth man went to town,” he growled. “Drop all them guns or this little darlin' gets plugged.”

Todd took two steps towards the wagon and lunged at the fifth outlaw. The man swung around to shoot, and when he did Dacee June pulled the trigger on the shotgun under the buffalo robe. The blast sent buckshot over the man's head, knocking his hat to the ground. He pulled the trigger of his own gun as he spun. His bullet hit Doc Kabyo in the left kneecap. Brazos could hear the bone shatter as Kabyo toppled to the snow, screaming in pain.

Like a wounded dog lashing out when cornered, Kabyo raised his gun and shot his own man in the stomach. At the same moment, Brazos slammed the barrel of his carbine into Kabyo's skull. The outlaw leader crumpled in the blood-splattered snow.

The gut-wounded man cried out in pain.

Jamie Sue got hysterical.

The dentist fainted.

Dacee June sat with her mouth wide open but didn't scream or cry.

Brazos quickly gave orders. “Todd, take care of your li'l sis. Robert, if you're up to it, help Jamie Sue calm down. Big River, you and Grass get these three tied up by the fire. Jims, drag the two wounded over by the flames. Don't put them too close. We're going to toss on some of this firewood.”

“You goin' to leave them warm?” Yapper protested.

“We'll build a fire so big, maybe some Indian braves might see it,” Brazos announced.

Brazos waved his arms. “Let's get going. We can make Deadwood sometime this evening, if there's enough light to see.”

“Just leave 'em?” Grass Edwards protested. “Hook was our friend. It don't seem fair to leave Kabyo alive.”

“Soon as a Chinook blows in, he'll die of gangrene,” Big River suggested.

Within minutes, the fire was roaring, and everyone was ready to load up. Brazos gave the final instructions. “Jims, you drive that rear wagon. Big River and Grass, take the middle one. Stay under those buffalo robes if you can and don't take chances with frostbite. We've got enough wood left in the lead wagon for some protection from the cold, so we'll have Dacee June, Robert, Jamie Sue, and the dentist hunker down there. Todd and I'll drive it.”

“What about them? We really going to leave them like that?” Big River pointed to the bound men.

Brazos nodded. “They've got a fire. And we left them their ­horses.”

“My horse's lamed up,” one of the men complained.

“That's the least of your worries,” Brazos counseled. “But I am neither a killer nor a horse thief.”

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