Man From Boot Hill (11 page)

Every time Nick opened his eyes, he didn’t bother checking if it was night or day. Sometimes there was light streaming through his window and sometimes there wasn’t. The biggest problem was that he couldn’t get himself to care about where the sun happened to be. Most of the time, he wondered if he would be better off if he simply didn’t wake up at all.

Nick had never been given to self-pity, and he sure as hell hadn’t picked up anything like that from his father. In fact, Stasys’s voice passed through Nick’s mind more often than any other. He felt as though his father was constantly scolding him for the mess his life had become.

The smell of freshly baked bread drifted through the house, causing Nick to stir. No matter what else had happened or what was going through his mind, Nick was always glad to see the Hemphill family. Doug was quick with a joke and kept them coming even though Nick wasn’t in the mood to laugh. Sue always made him feel better, even by
doing something as simple as dabbing his face with a wet cloth or rubbing his arm before she left. The children were heard more than seen, but their laughter would drown out the other echoes that drifted through Nick’s mind.

He never realized just how much attention he’d been paying to the sounds inside that house until a new one entered the mix. First, there was the creaking of the front door. Then, there was a rough voice from outside, which grew louder the longer it talked.

“I don’t think the question was too hard, Hemphill. All I asked was—”

“I know what you asked,” Doug cut in.

Nick winced at the angry tone in Doug’s voice. Although most folks sounded angry every now and then, Doug hadn’t raised his voice in such a way the entire time Nick had been there. In fact, it was difficult for Nick to picture what Doug might have looked like if he was angry.

When Doug continued, some of the edge was already missing from his voice. “I wish I could help you, but I just haven’t seen any strangers pass through here. It’s rare we even get to see you.”

“You can bullshit me all you want,” the first voice said, “but there’ve been reports of a man around here fitting this description. He’s wounded and he’s dangerous, so it ain’t a very good combination.”

Nick eased to the edge of the bed and then slowly got to his feet. It was an effort to stand up, but that
was only because he’d been content to lie on his back and count the boards in the ceiling until now. He made it across the room and pressed his ear against the door.

“If I see anyone, I’ll let you know. That’s going to have to do for now, Marshal.”

Nick heard the hinges creak, but that sound was interrupted by a solid thump.

“Move your foot, Marshal,” Doug said.

There was a silence and then a lower, growling voice. Nick pressed his ear even harder against the door until he was able to pick out more of the marshal’s words.

“…friends that’re very interested about this fella. If I have to tell them you wouldn’t let me have a look inside, I’ll just have to let them come see for themselves.”

“Then tell them to come back on Sunday,” Doug said cheerily. “Sue’s making a cake.”

Nick waited to hear the marshal’s response, but all he heard was a shuffle and the creak of the door shutting. He opened the bedroom door to take a look out and saw Doug turning around to face him.

“Nick, you’re up!”

“Who was that?” Nick asked.

Doug looked back at the door and shrugged. “Just a neighbor.”

“I heard some of what he said. He said he was looking for a man and he wanted to search this house.”

“Someone must have seen you that day and gotten the wrong impression. Like I said before, you were out of sorts.”

Although he hadn’t meant to, Nick put a vicious snarl in his voice when he asked, “What was his name?”

“Marshal Bagley. Do you know him?”

After a moment, Nick recalled hearing that name once or twice from Red. “He’s the law in a few little towns around here.”

“That’s right. It’s just some bad luck he’s around here right now. Don’t worry, though. He’s just making the rounds.”

“Who were the friends he mentioned?”

Doug chuckled and asked, “Did you have a glass against the wall?” When he saw Nick wasn’t laughing, he added, “Marshal Bagley says he’s on good terms with the Virginia City Vigilance Committee. Most folks around here think that’s just hot air to frighten the troublemakers.”

“God dammit,” Nick growled. “I need a gun.”

“What? There’s no need for that.”

Responding to Doug’s raised voice, Sue stuck her head in the door. “Is the marshal still here? What is Nick doing out of bed?”

“I need a gun,” Nick said to both of them. “Any gun you’ve got.”

“Nick thinks Marshal Bagley intends on doing him some harm,” Doug called over his shoulder to his wife.

“Does the marshal have a reason to do you some
harm?” Sue asked.

The way she was staring him down, Nick knew better than to try and lie. “Maybe.”

“You see?” Doug said quickly. “There’s no…what? Maybe? What do you mean, maybe?”

“If that marshal of yours keeps in touch with the Committee,” Nick explained, “there may be a chance that he’s out to put me down.”

“Why?”

Before Nick could answer, Sue interjected, “That damn Committee doesn’t need a reason. They never have. That’s why we left Virginia City, remember?”

“I know plenty about the Committee,” Doug said with some of the anger that Nick had heard in his voice a little while ago. “But I also know they go after some deserving targets as well. Which one are you, Nick? Be honest with me and I’ll stick by you as much as I can.”

Nick found the shotgun propped against a wall and snatched it up before Doug could do a thing about it. Checking to make sure it was loaded, he said, “Neither of you knows a damn thing about me. You don’t know the half of what the Committee is capable of, either.”

“Then tell us what we need to know,” Doug insisted.

“For one, I need to make sure that marshal don’t send word to Virginia City. Once Red hears about someone giving shelter to a wounded man, the Committee will come here looking for me. You don’t want that. Did you tell anyone my name?”

Doug recalled mentioning Nick’s name to his neighbor and cursed under his breath. “Damn it, let me go talk to the marshal. I can tell him you ran away.”

Nick looked at Doug and saw genuine concern in a face that he barely even knew. Although Sue was busy with the girls in another room, she had looked just as concerned when she looked through the doorway at Nick. It should have been easy for him to pick up his things and leave.

It should have been easy for Nick to take the Hemphills’ money as well as a fresh horse and start riding in any direction other than toward Virginia City. A few short months ago, Nick would have done all of those things. Hell, a few days ago he had been entertaining that very notion.

“How many deputies does that marshal have?” Nick asked.

“Don’t worry about that,” Doug said.

Sue came to her husband’s side. When she spoke, there was no uncertainty in her voice. “Three. There may be more, but I’ve only seen three men riding with Marshal Bagley.”

“Were any of them with him today?”

Finally Doug nodded. “Just one.”

Nick tucked the shotgun under his arm and walked into the kitchen. When he came back out, he was buttoning one of Doug’s jackets over him and patting the gun into place. “Hope you don’t mind if I borrow this,” he said.

Doug forced a smile onto his face and said,
“Only if you bring it back.”

“You might not see me again,” Nick replied without returning even a fraction of Doug’s smile. “I’ll try to stop by again, but I can’t make any promises.”

“Where are you going?” Sue asked.

By this time, Nick had made it to the front door and was peeking outside. “I’m going to make sure that marshal doesn’t report back to Red in Virginia City. After that, I’ve got some business of my own to finish.”

Doug reached out to grab hold of Nick’s arm. “You’re in no condition to ride anywhere. You shouldn’t even think about it.”

Nick got the man to release his grip with nothing more than a warning glare. Once Doug stepped back, Nick said, “You’ve done enough already. Whatever happens after this, it’s best that you don’t know about it. Whatever you think you know…forget it. And forget me, too, while you’re at it. It’ll be better all around that way.”

Doug was standing halfway between his wife and the door. His arm was still extended from grabbing Nick’s elbow and he extended it once more with his hand open. Nick paused for a second, and then reached out with one of his bandaged hands. Closing his fingers tentatively, Doug slowly shook Nick’s hand as if he was trying not to break an expensive piece of china.

“If you need to go,” Doug said earnestly, “just
go. Take whatever you need. Take the shotgun, but don’t use it on our account. I’ll do my best to make certain news doesn’t spread from here about you.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Nick said, “but I’d be asking way too much.”

Doug smirked, but it was less humorous and more conspiratorial. “Not as much as you think. I work at the telegraph office a mile from here and we get plenty of news before Virginia City does. We also get plenty of notices posted there by the law. Knowing that Committee, they’ll be posting one there, themselves, before long. It’ll be burnt as soon as they leave.”

Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to refuse the man’s help, Nick nodded and shook Doug’s hand in earnest. Although he felt the familiar burning pain shoot through his hand, his grip was stronger than it had been even earlier that same day. “I won’t ever forget you folks,” he said.

“Take care of yourself,” Doug told him.

Sue rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Nick. “Just run,” she whispered into his ear. “That’s all you need to do. Everything else will sort itself out whether you fight for it or not.”

Nick didn’t say anything. He just savored the warmth of her hug and stopped asking himself why the hell these people would do so much for an outlaw they’d scraped off the ground a matter of days ago.

When he stepped outside and helped himself to
one of the Hemphills’ horses, Nick vowed that those folks wouldn’t suffer because of their generosity.

Nick didn’t have much doubt as to where he should go next. The only thing that concerned him was getting there in time.

The deputy’s fist slammed into Mather’s face, sending a spray of blood into the air. Marshal Bagley stood nearby with his thumbs hooked in his belt, watching as if he was getting bored of the sight.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Mather grunted.

Marshal Bagley shook his head impatiently. “You know damn well. The man we’re after was wounded. Wounded real bad. We know he came this way, so that only leaves three choices. If he was dead,” Bagley said while ticking off one finger, “we would’a found a body by now.”

Ticking off another finger, Bagley said, “He might’ve gotten away, but he would’a had to steal a horse or walk faster than any man could, or we would’a spotted him. And three, he got patched up somewhere. Let me tell you, there are men in Virginia City who don’t like that third one very much at all.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Mather said.

Leaning down to snarl in the old medic’s face, the deputy asked, “Then how come I seen you coming back in here carrying that case a while back?”

“I treat a lot of folks around here.”

“But none of them
needed
treatment,” Bagley pointed out. “I asked.” When he saw the old man wasn’t about to say anything, the marshal nodded to his deputy, who then delivered another punch to Mather’s face.

“They’re good people,” Mather said as he spat out a wad of blood.

“Who are?” Bagley asked. “All we want is the fugitive. We get him and we’ll forgive the rest.”

Mather reflexively glanced to the right-hand window of his front room. “None of the folks around here deserve any trouble,” he said.

“And they won’t get it from me, just so long as I have something to pass along.”

Hanging his head low, Mather said, “I heard mention of a name. It may be the man you’re looking for.”

“What was the name?”

“Nick Graves.”

“That’s better,” Bagley said with a smile. “Now, just tell me where you heard that name.” Seeing the old man turn to look the other way, Bagley glanced to his deputy and told him, “Make this old buzzard spit out who was hiding that fugitive. Remember, he don’t need his teeth to say it.”

Grinning like a kid that had been given the keys
to a candy store, the deputy grabbed Mather by the shirt collar and hauled him over to the dining room. Weathering more than a few blows from the medic, the deputy threw the older man into a straight-backed chair and started pounding his fist into Mather’s face again and again.

Bagley remained in the living room and sat on the padded arm of the medic’s sofa. As he lit a cigarette, Bagley heard a horse racing toward the front of the house. Without disturbing his deputy, Bagley moved to a window and pulled the curtain to one side. He spotted the horse and recognized it as one of the animals that had been tied to the front of the Hemphill place.

The man climbing down from the horse wore a jacket that was just a bit too small for him and a hat that looked as if it had been trampled by an entire team of mules. His hands were bandaged and the ferocity in his eyes could have been seen from a mile away.

Walking to the front door, Bagley pulled it open and stepped outside. He clenched his cigarette between his teeth and rested his hand upon the grip of his holstered .45. He couldn’t see much more than the young rider’s face as he walked around his horse. “What can I do for you, boy?”

“You’re Marshal Bagley?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m Nick Graves. I hear you’re looking for me.”

Bagley’s eyes widened and the cigarette dropped from his mouth as he quickly drew his pistol.

Unfortunately for Nick, the years of throwing hot lead for a living overpowered what had happened in the last few days. His instinct to shoot first won out and he brought up the shotgun that had been wedged under his arm. Although Nick managed to get his left hand under the barrel, his right hand fumbled at the trigger guard. He knew he would have trouble working the trigger, but he had no way of knowing how badly his aim would be compromised. In fact, Nick was barely able to hold onto the shotgun when it roared and bucked in his grasp. The fresh blood that had soaked through his bandages and smeared along the surface of the weapon didn’t help matters either.

Marshal Bagley dropped to one knee and hunkered down as the shotgun went off.

Nick moved forward and forced himself to aim the shotgun one more time. He got his left hand back into place and then situated his right as well. For a moment, he swore he could feel his missing fingers gripping the weapon tightly. The subtle motions of aiming weren’t right, however. He could feel that the moment he tried to sight along the barrel.

Bagley fired a quick shot at Nick, which only missed by an inch or two. “Get out here!” he hollered to his deputy. “Right now, goddammit!!”

Seeing the uncertainty flicker through Nick’s eyes, the marshal dove to one side and swung his .45 toward the younger man.

Nick dropped to the ground just as the marshal’s shot blazed over his head.

The front door swung open to reveal a surprised man with bloodstained fists. “Jesus!” the deputy said as he lifted the gun that was already in his hand. “You all right, Marshal?”

Sweat poured from Nick’s brow. It was the most rattled he’d ever been in a gunfight since the first time he’d fired at another man. His hands felt as if he was being forced, arms first, into a vat of melted iron. The panic in his heart mixed with the pain to fill his entire body.

Nick saw the deputy, but also saw Marshal Bagley in his line of fire. All but choking on his next breath, Nick fought through the pain and aimed the shotgun. The moment he pulled the trigger, he could feel the gun sliding through his hands. Without a firm grip on the stock or barrel, the shotgun tilted downward just before the hammer dropped.

The thunder of the shotgun blended in with the gut-wrenching scream from the marshal as a load of buckshot ripped through his leg just above the knee. Bagley dropped and pulled his trigger as quickly as he could until the .45 was empty.

Amid the flurry of return fire, Nick ran for the first piece of hard cover he saw. He dove behind the corner of Mather’s front porch and scooted down as far as he could. The porch was only about a foot and a half high, but Nick was able to get most of himself behind it while frantically digging for the extra shells he’d stuffed into his pocket.

Still firing at the porch, the deputy dragged
Marshal Bagley toward his horse.

“Holy shit,” the deputy gasped. “Your fucking leg—”

“Just kill that son of a bitch,” Bagley snarled.

The deputy straightened up and took another shot at the edge of the porch. He then climbed up onto the porch and strained his neck to get a look along the other side of it. “I think he’s gone. Probably went back to them Hemphills. They’re the ones that patched him up before.”

“That squirrelly little prick,” Bagley snarled as he grabbed hold of his wounded leg. The moment he felt half of his leg hanging by a thick, meaty strand, he pulled in a hissing breath and took his hands away. “Go get that kid and kill anyone that stands in your way.”

“What about you, Marshal?”

“Just go!”

More than happy to look away from the gruesome sight of Bagley’s leg, the deputy mounted his horse and dug his heels into its sides. The animal let out a whinny and launched into a full gallop. Riding toward the Hemphills’ property, the deputy spotted Nick, headed in that direction.

Nick had been reluctant to leave, which was why he wasn’t that far ahead. When he heard the sound of someone following him, he brought his horse around. He’d already reloaded the shotgun, so he took it in his right hand and rested the barrel along the top of his left arm. Even though his fin
ger was still a little shaky upon the trigger, it was a bit easier to steady his aim while only using one damaged hand.

The deputy spurred his horse straight toward him and fired a shot, which hissed a few feet from Nick’s head.

Once the other horse was close enough, Nick pulled both of the shotgun’s triggers and unleashed its two barrels. The gun bucked up off of Nick’s arm and gave a thunderous roar that rolled through the air in all directions.

The deputy’s horse reared and kicked its front legs out while letting out a terrible scream, which was already fading by the time the horse keeled over. Although the animal caught most of Nick’s buckshot, the deputy in the saddle had gotten his share as well. He tossed himself wildly from the saddle, but wasn’t quick enough to keep from being caught underneath.

Nick walked over to the deputy while reloading the shotgun. “Who’d you tell about me?” he shouted.

“Don’t worry, asshole,” came the hurried reply. “Red’s gonna know soon enough where to find you! If I was you, I’d start riding for Mexico right now!”

“He’s gonna know? That means he doesn’t know yet.”

The deputy felt his stomach knot. He also felt his legs start to gain some leverage as he continued
to wriggle out from beneath his dead horse. “If you hurt me, them folks that took you in will pay for it.”

“What did you say?” Nick asked.

The deputy sensed he’d gained some ground and nodded. “Marshal Bagley gave the order, his self. I told him you were holed up with them folks and he’ll bring hell down on them if you hurt his men. Ride off now, and—”

A blast from both barrels of the shotgun cut the deputy off in mid-sentence, while also nearly separating his head from his shoulders.

Nick looked down at the bloody mess and said, “Nobody’s gonna know I was here and they’re not gonna know who took me in.”

He fumbled through the motions of opening the shotgun and digging in his pocket for fresh shells, but his bandaged fingers didn’t find any. Nick tossed the shotgun and picked up the gun from the deputy’s hand. He tried to fish a few rounds from the dead man’s gun belt, but his fingers weren’t up to the task. Swearing under his breath, Nick kept at it until he’d gotten one bullet free of its leather loop. That brought the gun’s cylinder up to half capacity.

It would just have to be good enough.

Nick rode back to Mather’s house and discovered Marshal Bagley was still there. The lawman had pulled himself to his horse and was just starting his painful climb into the saddle when Nick arrived. The moment he saw who was coming toward him, Bagley looped one arm over the horse’s
back so he could reach for his gun.

Nick knew better than to try and shoot at him from where he was. Although he knew he could hit the marshal on any other day, his fumbling with the shotgun had put him in his place. He climbed down from his saddle, carefully wrapped his hand around the pistol he’d taken from the deputy, and walked over to Bagley.

“I know who patched you up,” Bagley said. “You put that gun down or those folks will get a visit from Red’s Committee.”

There was no emotion in Nick’s face as he walked up to within five feet of the marshal. His hands may have been bloody and his fingers mangled, but his aim was good enough to keep Marshal Bagley from moving his gun arm one more inch.

“You fucking bastard,” Bagley spat. “No wonder them vigilantes are looking for you.”

“How long have you been taking orders from them?”

“Long enough to know it don’t pay to go against them. Besides, most of the assholes they string up got it coming, anyway.”

“Most? What about the Hemphills? What do you think will happen to them if you manage to tell Red they helped me?”

“You know…just as well as I do,” Bagley wheezed as his vision started to fade and his grip upon the side of his saddle loosened. “Red likes making…examples of folks like that.”

Nick flexed his mangled hands and muttered.
“An example just like me.”

“Let me go…” Bagley pleaded. “I need a doctor. Let me…get to one and I’ll see what I can do about Red.”

Shaking his head solemnly, Nick said, “There’s only one thing to do about Red and I’m the one to do it. You’re just another crooked lawman who shits on the folks he’s supposed to protect.”

The marshal froze in his spot as he stared down the barrel of Nick’s gun. The color was already gone from his face after losing so much blood. Even now, it was getting harder to maintain his grip on his saddle. “The rest of my…men will come. They…must have…heard the shots.”

“Here’s one more for them to go by,” Nick said before pulling his trigger.