Monument Rock (Ss) (1998) (32 page)

"But you approve of Frank Mailer?" she asked coolly.

He looked up then, measuring her with his glance. "No," he said flatly, "and yo
u
ain't goin' to marry him. That was a bad idea."

"I agree." Lona waited, wondering.

He rubbed his chin. "Lona," he said hesitantly, "I got a confession to make. Whe
n
Mailer first come down here, I figured him a right upstandin' young feller. Lately
,
he ain't seemed so much what he should be; in fact I been hearin' some things fro
m
up Durango way."

"Things?" She looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Stories. Stories of robberies and such. When he comes back I may have to fire Fran
k
Mailer."

At that moment they both heard a shout, then a sound of running horses, and Mailer'
s
hard voice, talking to Socorro.

Dunning turned on the girl. "Get to your room!" he said. "An' Lona, you keep you
r
mouth shut to what we've been talking about!"

Chapter
5

Miles back, along the trails north and west of Aztec Crossing, there rode a small
,
grim-faced group of men. In the van were three men on gray horses, three men wh
o
answered to the names of Jim, Pat, and Terry Mulhaven, the brothers of Johnny, wh
o
was alive but badly shot up back in Aztec.

There were eight of these men in all, headed by an Apache tracker, and these wer
e
the men who had built the Crossing from nothing to a fairly stable little outpost.

Storekeeper Worth, answering to the name of Bill, was among them, his old Sharp
s
across his saddlebow.

The peace and contentment of their town had been violated and good citizens had bee
n
done to death, so the attitude of the posse, self-appointed, was harsh and determined.

A dozen times they had lost the trail, and a dozen times they had found it again.

Their progress had been slow, but it was relentless.

Most often, it was the distinctive tracks of the blood bay ridden by Mailer tha
t
they found. They knew this horse by sight, and they knew his tracks.

"I wonder how much further?" Worth asked.

"We got all summer," Jim Mulhaven replied shortly. "This is one trail I ain't leavin'
u
ntil those hombres stretch hemp."

A good day and a half behind the outlaws, they ha
d
come upon the body of Kane Geslin. The sign made evident what had happened here.

"Killed by one of his own men," Worth commented.

"One less for us," Pat said grimly. "Let's be ridin'!" They rode on, into the hot
,
still afternoon, their eyes grimly upon the trail.

At Blue Hill, Mailer had wasted no time in facing Poke Dunning. He went at once t
o
the ranch house, opened the door, and closed it, looking at the older man acros
s
the big room. "Poke, let's get this over with. Come Saturday, I'm marrying Lona!"

He could see that something had happened-what, he did not know-but Mailer was a change
d
man, not suddenly insistent, demanding, but with some deeper, more deadly change.

"I don't think so, Frank. She doesn't want to marry you. And now I agree with her."

Frank Mailer looked at old Poke Dunning through narrowed eyes. "You double-crossin'
m
e, Dunning?" he asked.

"It could be I'm protectin' myself from a double cross. An' don't think that I'
m
scared of you telling people who I really am. I've been here for years and most o
f
those that haven't forgot who Poke Dunning was are dead."

"What if you died, mighty sudden," Mailer suggested, his eyes holding Poke's, "an'

I married Lona?^'

Dunning shrugged. "The trouble with that is"-he spoke carefully, knowing how slende
r
was the thread along which their course was holding, a thread that might snap wit
h
a burst of gunfire at any moment-"that Kilkenny knows."

"Who?" Mailer started at the name. "Kilkenny? Is he here?"

"Who do you think whipped you, Frank?" Dunning asked. "That was him, all right. Kansa
s
tipped me off."

"Kilkenny!" All thoughts were suddenly gone from Mailer's mind but the one. It wa
s
fantastic. He had heard of the gunfighter for years, but had never seen him. Rememberin
g
the description that Gates had given in the saloon the first night they met, he kne
w
Poke was telling the truth. Despite himself, he was awed and worried.

Had anyone suggested that the name frightened him, he would have scoffed at it. H
e
had never been frightened of anything, but one could not hear the countless storie
s
surrounding that name without it taking on an almost magical quality. He felt a strange
,
deadly chill within him. Kilkenny! And the man had beaten him with his fists, bu
t
perhaps with a gun ... ?

"Look," Poke said softly, "we've had our troubles, Frank. We both have it in fo
r
each other, but it ain't necessary. We started in this deal an' we can do all righ
t
with it yet. I can't let you marry Lona yet. . . not until I can trust you. We ca
n
settle this; the only thing in the way is this Kilkenny. We've got to get rid o
f
him."

"We?" Mailer looked at Dunning, trying to assemble his thoughts. The knowledge tha
t
Kilkenny was in this deal disturbed him.

"Sure! Look, alone neither of us can win. Together we can. As long as Kilkenny i
s
in the picture, we stand to lose, so what we've got to do is get him out of it. The
n
we can settle this deal between us, or work partners on it. Our first job is to b
e
rid of him."

"Maybe you're right," Mailer agreed grudgingly, "but that won't be so easy. Got an
y
ideas?"

"Sure. I've been thinking about it. Look, he came over to the ranch once, so we ca
n
get him here again. He was a friend of Lona's father. All right, we send him a messag
e
from her. He'll come, an' when he does, we'll be waitin' for him. Geslin, Starr
,
Socorro, an' us."

"Not Geslin. He's dead."

"Dead?"

"Yeah." Mailer's cold eyes shifted to Dunning's. "We had some words an' he trie
d
to draw on me. I killed him."

Poke Dunning absorbed that and didn't like it. He had known Mailer was good, bu
t
if he was good enough to get Geslin and not even collect a slug in the process, the
n
he was even more dangerous than Poke had believed.

"Ethridge is dead, too." Mailer was rolling a smoke. "We took that bank at Azte
c
Crossing."

Rage boiled up inside of Poke Dunning. He had refused to allow anything of the kind.

This was going directly against his orders. For an instant he was about to give ven
t
to his fury, but he throttled his anger. "That's no matter. We can use Socorro an'

Starr. It will be easy enough. You an' me an' Starr will be out of sight. We ca
n
have Socorro mendin' a saddle or something. Kilkenny rides in, an' we take him i
n
a cross fire. Four guns. He won't beat that."

"All right," Mailer agreed. "It's a good plan. Can you get word to him?"

"Sure. Through Kansas or that Spanish girl."

"You're right, there's something between them."

"Yeah"-Dunning nodded-"we should have guessed it. She's that Nita Riordan who wa
s
with him on the border and at the Cedars. Remember? We heard about her."

So that was it? Kilkenny's girl? But after Kilkenny died?

"Poke," Mailer said suddenly, "I think I'm goin' to like this. You get word to Kansa
s
or the girl. Let's get started on this an' get it over with."

Sam Starr walked into the bunkhouse and pulled off his boots. Behind him Socorr
o
followed, and Rusty Gates opened his eyes and looked at them in the darkness. H
e
could see only vague outlines, but he heard Socorro's muttered curse, then Starr'
s
low question. "How do you feel?"

"Bad," Socorro said. "My whole arm and shoulder are so stiff it hurts to move."

"You feel better than Geslin."

Socorro did not say anything for a minute. Then he said, "Frank should have burie
d
him. If there's a posse, they are liable to stumble on the body."

Rusty Gates was wide-awake now. What went on here? To speak would cause them to cla
m
up, and he wanted to hear more. He lay still and listened.

"There wil
l
be a posse," Starr said. "Aztec is a tough place. I knew that kid who opened up o
n
us. He was one of the Mulhaven boys, an' there's four or five more."

"Gunfighters?"

"No, but tough hands, and clannish as all get out. You can bet we've got a Mulhave
n
on us now, somewhere."

"What you plannin' to do?"

Sam Starr let that question slide. It was not that he did not know, but Socorro wa
s
pretty thick with Mailer. Starr planned to get his share of the loot and light
a
shuck for Texas. But fast.

A long time after, Gates saw Gordon Flynn come into the room, get something out o
f
his bunk, and leave again. Mailer still had not come in. When he did he undresse
d
and fell right into bed.

After Mailer left him, Dunning moved swiftly. He had to prepare for battle on tw
o
fronts. The trap had to be set for Kilkenny and he needed to be ready for Mailer'
s
nex
t
move, whether they'd done in Kilkenny or not. He crossed the patio and rapped lightl
y
on Lena's door. "Who's there?" she asked.

"It's me ... Pa. Get your clothes an' come out of there. You sleep in the back roo
m
tonight. Beside Dave Berts."

Lona thought quickly. Why Dunning wanted her to move she could not guess, but bein
g
close to Dave would make her feel much safer. She knew the old man's affection fo
r
her, and his loyalty. "All right," she said after a minute.

"You'll be all right there. Mailer's back."

She said nothing but went to the room mentioned, barred the door, and climbed int
o
bed. Poke Dunning walked into Lona's bedroom and sat down on the empty bed with hi
s
six-shooter in his hand.

His hunch might be wrong, but Lona was the pawn in the game now. Possession of he
r
person was as important as possession of the ranch itself, even more important, a
s
things stood. If Mailer came ... it was almost daylight when he heard the soft rustl
e
of grass, then heard a low voice. "Lona!"

He sat very still, and then a head and shoulders loomed at the open window. "Lona!"
t
he voice called.

Poke Dunning fired.

Mailer, Gates, and Starr came awake on the instant. Starr thought first of a posse
,
Gates and Mailer were thinking of Kilkenny. Gates kicked off the blankets and reache
d
for his boots. Mailer stared at him, then leaned back in bed. Going out into tha
t
yard was something he had no idea of doing right now. Firing a pistol and then waitin
g
might be just the trick Poke Dunning would try. "See what it is," he said, and sagge
d
back in his bunk.

Rusty Gates walked out into the yard, but there was n
o
sound and no movement. He waited, then crossed the hard-packed earth of the ranc
h
yard toward the house. He heard
a
faint stirring and turned toward the wing of the house. Someone had lighted a lantern
,
and he rounded the corner to see the dark figure of a man bending over another on
e
on the ground.