Chapter 13

The five riders thundered into the yard to find Ford standing there waiting for them. They hauled back on their horse’s reins and brought them to a hard stop.

It wasn’t until the dust had mostly cleared that they could make out Galloway standing at the large entrance to the barn. He held his cocked rifle across his body in a non-threatening way towards the riders, but Galloway could bring it to bear with a minimum of fuss should he need to.

Ford waited until the bearded, black-coated riders had brought their stomping mounts under control before saying, ‘I believe you fellers are lookin’ for me?’

Lem swept back his jacket to expose the butt of his six-gun. The others did likewise.

‘You’re comin’ with us, Ford,’ he said with authority. ‘We’re takin’ you back to hang. You and those that have helped you.’

‘Well, that is certainly a good incentive to lay down this here rifle and throw my hands up, ain’t it?’ Ford’s voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘How did you find me?’

‘The doc talked.’

Inside the house, Nora watched on nervously and a cold shiver ran down her spine upon hearing Lem’s comment.

‘You have overlooked the one simple thing that stands out in this equation,’ Ford pointed out.

‘What might that be?’

‘You didn’t bring enough men.’

Lem’s jaw dropped when he realized what was about to happen. The Winchester in Ford’s grip came up and leveled on the terrified vigilante. The rifle bucked in Ford’s hands, and blue-grey gunsmoke erupted from the barrel, punctuated by flame.

The slug punched into Lem’s chest and knocked him back over his horse’s rump. By the time he hit the hard-packed earth with a sickening thump, he was dead.

While Lem was falling, the rest of the vigilantes were drawing their six-guns. Ford had shifted his aim and now the Winchester centered on Miller. While he’d been adjusting his aim, Ford had worked the lever and jacked another round into the breech.

The rifle roared again and Miller grunted audibly as the bullet hit him in his middle. Gut-shot, he slid sideways from the saddle on to the ground where he curled into a ball as the pain started to settle in.

The guns of the three remaining vigilantes were out and firing by now, and slugs cut the air close to Ford. They snapped loudly as they passed causing Ford to duck instinctively and drop to his knees. With all their attention on Ford, the surviving vigilantes forgot about Galloway. And now, after a rapid recovery from the brutality of the opening rounds, he too joined the fray.

A bullet from Galloway’s gun cut close to one of the vigilantes who quickly swiveled in his saddle and snapped a shot at the homesteader. The slug chewed splinters from one of the barn doors and sprayed razor-sharp slivers through the air.

Galloway fired again and got second time lucky as the man threw his arms up and toppled from his horse.

Inside the house Nora watched it all unfold. The deafening gunfire, the men dying violently before her eyes, and out there amongst it all, her husband.

Her hand went to her throat. Oh God. Please let him live.

Now, after the short, vicious exchange of gunfire, there were two vigilantes left. One took stock of the situation and ran, leaving his compadre on his lonesome.

The remaining man sighted on Ford but a shot from Galloway smashed into his leg. He cried out in pain and his jerky reaction threw off his aim enough for the slug to fly high and right. Then the wounded man’s horse lurched sideways and he became unseated.

The vigilante hit the ground hard beneath his flailing mount’s legs. He rolled away from the deadly appendages and came up on to one knee, his face a mask of pain and rage. Despite the fall, he still managed to retain his six-gun and now looked for a clear target.

Ford sighted on him and squeezed the trigger. The Winchester kicked back into his shoulder and his limited view through the gunsmoke at the end of the barrel saw the final vigilante fall.

As the final echoes of gunshots died away across the Moose River, Ford climbed to his feet and looked about the yard and realized there were no more threats.

‘Galloway, are you alright?’ he called across to the homesteader.

Galloway just stared silently at the men that lay in his yard.

‘Galloway?’

His head snapped around. ‘What? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.’

There was a moan from the wounded Miller. Ford trained his rifle on him and slowly approached the downed man. To his left, the screen door slammed back as Nora Galloway burst through it and began to run towards her husband.

‘Don’t come out here, Nora,’ he cautioned her. ‘You don’t need to see this.’

But in her desperation she ignored him and threw her arms about her husband when she reached him, silently weeping as he wrapped her up.

Meanwhile, Ford knelt down beside the dying Miller. He rolled the man on to his back and moved his hands so he could see the wound. He looked at Miller and shook his head. ‘There ain’t nothin’ I can do for you.’

‘I . . . I kinda expected that.’

There was no animosity towards Ford from the dying man. Just a resignation of what was to come.

‘Is the doctor still alive?’ Ford asked Miller.

He nodded jerkily. ‘Yeah.’

‘Why is Wakefield in Stay?’ Ford asked him. ‘What is there for him?’

‘We needed . . . a place to hole up for . . . a while,’ Miller gasped. ‘After that . . . job we done a while back.’

‘What job?’

‘Fifty thousand dollars in gold coin,’ Miller answered.

Ford searched his memory for a moment and then he recalled the incident. Around seven months back a money shipment on a stage was hit. The $50,000 it carried was stolen and everyone was killed, the cavalry escort that accompanied the stage included.

‘That was Wakefield?’ Ford asked.

‘Yeah,’ Miller nodded and then gasped as a fresh wave of pain washed over him.

‘Where’s the money now?’

Miller smiled showing blood-stained teeth. ‘Safe. He keeps . . . it in his room. Behind the sideboard.’

The vigilante stiffened and went still. His chest stopped the regular rise and fall of the living.

‘Hey,’ Ford shook him gently. ‘Hey.’

It was no use. Miller was all talked out. All that remained was death.

A shadow fell across Ford and he looked up to see Galloway standing over him.

‘He dead?’

Ford nodded.

‘What are we goin’ to do now?’

Ford rose to his feet and looked about. He thought for a moment then said, ‘We need to get your wife somewhere safe before they come back.’

‘I can send her over to the Wilson spread,’ Galloway told him. ‘She should be safe there for a while. What are we goin’ to do?’

‘After you help me, I need you to ride to Fort Somerset,’ Ford explained. ‘While you’re gone I’ll be keepin’ Wakefield and his men busy.’

‘You do realize that the ride is a four day round trip?’ Galloway explained.

‘Uh huh.’

‘What makes you think that you can keep them busy for that long?’

Ford smiled wryly. ‘I’m goin’ to steal his money.’

Talbot thundered into Stay on a worn-out, foam-lathered horse. He was bathed in sweat and when he dragged the mount to a shuddering stop at the hitch-rail, he just leaped from the saddle and left the horse standing where it was.

Townsfolk stopped and stared at the obviously panic-stricken man who rushed up the steps of the Cedar Log. He crashed his way through the front doors and looked about the mostly empty room. He scanned the tables and spotted Jesse at a corner one with Luther.

He hurried across to the table and scooped up the half empty bottle of rye and took a big swig. After which he slammed it back down on the battered tabletop.

Jesse could plainly see that all was not right.

‘What happened?’ he asked, his voice carried a hard edge.

Talbot’s grey eyes locked on to Jesse’s gaze. Beneath his dark beard was a pale shocked face.

‘We found Ford,’ he informed Jesse. ‘By damn we found the bastard.’

‘And?’

‘And I’m all that’s left!’ Talbot half shouted. ‘The son of a bitch opened up on us and cut the others down cold. Between him and that damned homesteader feller we didn’t have a chance.’

‘All right, take it easy,’ Jesse said in an effort to calm him. ‘Tell me what happened so I can pass it on to The Judge.’

‘When we showed up at the homestead, Ford was just standin’ out in the yard as bold as all get out,’ Talbot told Jesse. His eyes widened as he continued, ‘Lem told him we were takin’ him in and then he just up and told Lem that he hadn’t brought enough help. Then he just cut loose. I ain’t never seen a man do that before. Not that quick. Not with a rifle. Lem and Miller were down before we could even get our guns drawn. That other marshal was right. He said Ford would come. And he said he’d kill us all.’

‘Just calm down and stop gettin’ all bent out of shape. What happened next?’

‘The homesteader cut loose and they had us cold. There weren’t nothin’ we could do.’

‘So how come you managed to get out?’ Luther asked. ‘You cut and run?’

‘I did what I had to!’ Talbot screeched and spittle flew from his lips.

All eyes in the saloon were suddenly directed at their table.

‘OK, calm down,’ Jesse snapped. ‘Go and get yourself a drink.’

Talbot reached for the bottle again.

‘From the bar,’ Jesse said and moved it out of reach.

They watched him go then Luther said, ‘Mordecai ain’t goin’ to be happy about this.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Have you noticed of late that since Ford arrived in town that our numbers have dwindled some?’ Luther pointed out. ‘Four men today, two the other day, and Gil. The way things are goin’ there’ll be none of us left soon. That fool may have run, but he could be right. Ford just may kill us all.’

‘It ain’t like you to be spooked so easy, Luther,’ Jesse commented. ‘Is what that fool sayin’ gettin’ to you?’

Luther tossed back what was left of his glass of rye. ‘I ain’t spooked, Jesse. Just mighty cautious about dyin’.’

Jesse stoppered the bottle. ‘I guess we best go and see Mordecai and see what he wants us to do.’

‘He ain’t goin’ to like it.’

Jesse sighed. ‘No. No, he ain’t.’

‘Damn son of a bitch,’ Mordecai Wakefield rasped out when he heard that he’d lost another four men. ‘I can’t believe that one man could cause so much trouble. Where’s Talbot?’

‘Out in the hall,’ Jesse told him.

‘Get him.’

Jesse crossed to the door, opened it and mumbled something to Talbot. He entered and Jesse closed the door behind him. Talbot stood next to Luther, and Jesse took station on the other side of him.

Wakefield stared at him for a moment before his face changed to a silent snarl and his right fist lashed out. The wet sound of his punch as it struck Talbot on the jaw filled the room. Talbot staggered but remained upright.

‘Damn coward!’ Wakefield snarled. ‘You run out on your friends. Left them there to die.’

‘But . . . but there was nothing I could do, Mordecai,’ Talbot stammered as he dabbed at the bloody corner of his mouth.

Wakefield lashed out again. This time, Talbot went down. ‘Don’t damn well call me Mordecai. How many times do you have to be told?’

There was genuine fear in the man’s eyes as he stared up at the vigilante boss.

‘Sorry, Judge,’ he mumbled through bruised and bloodied lips.

‘You will be,’ Wakefield said harshly. ‘We’re goin’ back out there to get him. And guess what? You are goin’ to be right out front leadin’ the way. This time, if you run I’ll damn well shoot you in the face.’