CHAPTER 6
Between spectators and passengers, the station was crowded, too crowded for Billy’s liking. He thought most of the town was up at Underhill’s funeral, but it looked like everyone else was here, waiting for a glimpse of James Grant and Al Brenner in chains.
Chief Edison had assigned a few men to keep the crowd back, but his best men were still up at Underhill’s grave, and those who were here were not much good. At least they were not Hancock men.
“I wasn’t counting on this,” Mackey told them as they got close to the station. “Change in plans. Jerry, park the wagon at the back near the stock car. We’ll board there where the crowd is thinnest. Jerry and I will hold them back while Billy and Josh get the prisoners on the stock car. We’ll help Edison’s men keep the crowd from swarming all over us.”
Billy watched Jerry bring the Clydesdale to a halt and set the brake before hopping down and moving toward the crowd.
Mackey climbed down, too, and covered the crowd with his Winchester. “Bring down the prisoners and load them into the stock car. Now.”
“You can’t do that!” Grant yelled as Josh and Billy pulled the prisoners to their feet. “I know those cars. There’s no way through to the rest of the train from there.”
Joshua opened the tailgate and jumped down. “Shut up and get moving. Time’s wasting.”
But neither prisoner moved. Brenner said, “You ain’t locking me in a goddamned car with livestock all the way to Helena.”
Billy grabbed hold of the shackles and yanked the chain up. “Get moving or we’ll put these chains over the tail hitch of the train and drag you there.”
The prisoners slid along their backsides until they got to the edge of the wagon, then slid down to the ground. With Joshua prodding them from the back, Billy climbed over the side and helped move the prisoners along as they crab-walked to the stock car.
Billy saw Mackey holding his Winchester low but ready as he watched the crowd that had finally spotted them and began to surge their way. Edison’s men did their best to hold them back, but it was only a matter of time before the crowd broke free and moved toward the stock car. He had seen how mobs worked, and if he had forgotten, he had been reminded of it the night before. A group of people that large tended to take on a mind of their own, and there was no way of knowing what might happen next.
Billy saw the ramp for the stock car had been moved aside, and he called out to Jerry to help put it back in place. It would be nearly impossible for the prisoners to climb up into the car the way they were chained together, and there was no way he would take off their shackles now.
As Jerry jogged back to help him, Billy saw two men break free from the crowd and charge forward. One had a knife and the other had a pistol.
Men, women, and children cried out.
Billy shoved the prisoners to the ground, but before he could bring up the Sharps, Mackey raised his Winchester and fired at the approaching men.
Jerry dove out of the way just in time.
The man with the knife dropped to the platform. The right side of his head disappeared in a cloud of red dust.
The second man with the pistol stopped in his tracks as Mackey levered another round into the chamber.
The crowd surged again, only this time as far away from the train as they could manage. Billy had a clear shot at the man with the pistol, but knew at this range, the fifty-caliber round would go through him and several people behind him.
Besides, Aaron had the man in his sights. He was not going anywhere.
“Set your pistol on the platform nice and slow,” Mackey ordered. “You don’t have to die today.”
“Shoot him, Andy,” Brenner yelled to the gunman. “Shoot him now!”
But Andy did not shoot. He looked at Aaron and the prisoners. He looked at the people who had backed away from him and at all the guns aimed at him.
He was all alone and with only one way out.
Billy saw the shift in his eyes, and knew this could only end one way.
Andy yelled, “Remember the Hancock Boys!”
His pistol jerked up.
Mackey dropped him with a single shot to the chest.
Andy’s pistol fired wide as he fell to the platform.
While the people on the platform cried out, Jerry scrambled over and helped Billy get the ramp back in place, then helped Josh drag the prisoners to their feet and into the stock car.
Billy covered Aaron as the marshal walked toward Andy, rifle still aimed down at the man he had just shot. He stepped on the dead man’s wrist and plucked the pistol from his hand. He stood over the corpse and faced the spectators, his voice ringing loud over their screams. “Anyone else want to try us today?”
The crowd fell silent. No one stepped forward.
One of Edison’s men slowly walked over to him. “I’m sorry about this, Marshal, but—”
Mackey handed him the pistol and walked back toward the stock car. Billy eyed the crowd in case anyone came at Mackey. No one did.
Jerry walked down the ramp as Mackey approached. “You know, I felt that bullet go right past my ear.”
“You’re welcome.” He walked up the ramp and into the stock car.
Jerry helped Billy pull the ramp away from the train. “Aaron’s awful handy with that Winchester, isn’t he, Uncle?”
But Billy was not in the habit of discussing Aaron’s shortcomings or his talents with anyone other than Aaron. Maybe it was from all the years he had spent hunting Apache and Comanche, but he was superstitious about certain topics. He had come to believe that a man was born with only a certain amount of medicine, and talking about such things could make him lose some of it, the way a glass of water gets empty if it sits too long.
“Cinnamon,” Billy said.
The answer caught Jerry short. “What?”
“The secret to why my coffee’s so good,” Billy told him as he stepped up into the stock car. “I put a pinch of cinnamon in the water, let it boil until it’s almost gone, then add the coffee and more water. It seasons the pot and gives the coffee a nicer flavor.”
“Cinnamon,” Jerry repeated as he helped Billy slide the stock door closed. “You two are a strange pair, Uncle. You and Aaron.”
“Stay alive, Jerry Halstead,” Billy said as he slid the door shut. “We’ll send a wire when we get to Helena.”
Billy would smile every time he thought of the puzzled look on his nephew’s face on the long trek to Helena.
* * *
The light inside the stock car wasn’t the best, but enough of the morning sun shone through the slats for the men to see what they were doing.
Enough for Billy to see Grant and Brenner dig in their heels at the straw outside Adair’s stall.
“There’s no way you’re locking us in with that animal,” Grant protested again. “There are rules, Mackey, and this is beyond the pale!”
The door to Adair’s stall stood open, the biggest stall in the stock car. The black Arabian mare had her head over Mackey’s shoulder as he stroked her neck. He kept his voice mellow for her sake. “Be quiet or you’ll hurt her feelings.”
Aaron’s ability to be two different men at the same time still amazed Billy, even after all these years. He had just killed two men—three within the last twenty-four hours—but around his horse, he was as gentle as a lamb.
“I’ve seen what that animal can do,” Brenner yelled.
“You should’ve thought about that before you sent two men to the station to kill us, Brenner. You don’t get tea and crumpets after that.” He patted the mare’s neck. “Now you get to spend time with this sweet little girl right here.”
Brenner balled his fists and punched his legs. “That damned hell beast of yours will kick us to death if you put us in there with her!”
“Not if you both stay nice and still.” Mackey continued to soothe the mare and spoke in a gentle tone. “The rocking of the train always puts her to sleep, and she’ll lay down in the hay like a newborn foal, especially since Billy or I will be here with you all the time. She’ll stay that way for most of the trip, as long as you two idiots don’t make a sound. That means no talking, no rattling those shackles. No trying to escape. One noise, even a whisper while she’s sleeping, and you two will find yourselves busted up or worse.”
“And what about when she relieves herself?” Grant asked.
“You’re an old stagecoach man,” Mackey told him. “What do you think? There’s plenty of hay in the stall to soak most of it up. The rest is your problem.”
“And what about when we have to relieve ourselves?” Grant persisted.
“Like I said, there’s plenty of hay in the stall.” Adair lowered her head even farther on Mackey’s shoulder, drawing him closer to her. He stroked the mane on her neck. “Now’s a good time to put them in, Joshua. She’s good and quiet now.”
Sandborne used the double barrels of his coach gun to prod them into the stall. The prisoners held the chains of their shackles to prevent them from rattling as they reluctantly moved inside and bunched up in the farthest corner of the stall.
Both men flinched when the stock car jerked as the train began to pull out of the station. Adair fussed a little, and her hooves sliding dangerously close to the prisoners, but Mackey kept stroking her mane and she quickly found her footing again.
Mackey patted her a final time before he slid out from under her and closed the stall door. She lifted her head over it and put her snout against her owner’s head.
Mackey looked down at the prisoners. “You two behave yourselves, and we’ll all have a nice comfortable ride to Helena.”
Mackey walked to the back of the stock car, but Grant yelled after him from the corner of the stall. “I’m going to kill you for this, Mackey. As God is my witness, I’ll make you suffer for what you’ve—”
Billy watched Adair swing her head around and butt Grant in the face. Not as hard as Billy had seen her do in the past, but hard enough to knock the man back against the wall. She kept her head an inch away from his, snorting loudly as she smelled his fear.
Billy held his finger up to his lips to remind both prisoners to be quiet and went to join the others at the far end of the car.