CHAPTER ELEVEN
LATER, WHILE MATT was preparing his bedding in the barn, Joan Mannix came out, glancing behind her.
“I can’t stay long,” she said.
“You shouldn’t be here at all, Joan,” Matt told her.
“I just want to know if you gave any thought to what we talked about?” she said.
“The extra job you talked about?” he asked. “I’d have to know what it is.”
“Matt,” she said, “I need you to kill my husband.”
“Why? What’s he done?”
“I’m not happy,” she said, “and he won’t let me go.”
“Well,” Matt said, “I can’t see myself doing that, Joan.”
“It wouldn’t be hard, Matt,” she said. “Nobody ever comes out here. No one would even know he was dead for days.”
“Joan,” he said, “you two have been married a long time. Why would you want to do this?”
“We’ve been married too long,” she said. “I need a change desperately, and like I said, he won’t let me go. I don’t know if this will sweeten the pot any, Matt, but once it’s done, you could also have me and the ranch.”
“Joan—”
“Shh,” she said, “not now. I have to go. Take a few days to think it over.”
She turned and rushed out of the barn.
Matt reclined on his bed of hay and thought about the couple. Joan seemed determined to hire somebody to kill her husband, and Andy seemed confident that she didn’t really mean it. Could he stay another week, pad his poke, and then walk away, confident that she wouldn’t ultimately find somebody to do what she wanted?
With no law in town, what else could he do?
MATT WORKED AND slept on the Mannix ranch for another week without either of them mentioning the offer. After supper that night, he sat with Andy on the porch.
“I think I’ve got enough to get myself on the trail again, Andy,” he said.
“Well, we’ll miss ya around here, Matt,” Andy said. “You’re a helluva worker. I don’t know what you did before in your life, or what you’re runnin’ from or to, but you can always come back here.” Andy lowered his voice. “That is, unless you kill me before you go.”
“Andy—”
“I’m just kiddin’, Matt.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m not sure Joan is.”
“Did she come to you again?”
“Well, no . . .”
“Then don’t worry about it. She’s not serious. Look, you gonna head out tomorrow?”
“I thought I’d give it another day or two,” Matt said.
“Good,” Andy said, “we can help you get outfitted, send you off with some extra for the trail.”
“You’ve done enough for me, Andy—”
“By underpayin’ you for all the work you did?” Andy asked. “I don’t think so. We’ll put somethin’ together for ya.”
“Okay,” Matt said, “I’ll take it. And I’ll spend the next day or so cleaning up, trying to make sure this place is in shape.”
“Good,” Andy said. “It’s already in better shape than it’s been in a long time.”
Matt stood.
“I’ll say good night, then.”
“Finish your cigar in the barn,” Andy said.
“Not a chance,” Matt said. “Too much hay in there. The last thing I want to do is burn down the barn I worked so hard on.”
“Good point,” Andy said. “Night.”
Matt started to walk away, then turned back.
“Oh, you’ll tell Joan I’m leaving in a couple of days?”
“I’ll tell ’er,” Andy said, and waved.
Matt walked to the barn. He spent a little time checking over his horse, making sure the animal was sound and ready to go. That done, he reclined on his hay bed, gave some thought to the continuation of his trek back to Fairview. Wise or not, it was something he had to get done before he could move on. Or before he could decide whether he even wanted to move on.
HE WORKED THE next full day and decided to leave the following morning. After supper, instead of sitting on the porch with Andy, he went back to the barn to start packing his gear. Not that he had all that much to pack. While he was doing that, Joan appeared at the barn door.
“So you’re done?” she asked.
“Yup,” Matt said. “It’s time for me to get moving.”
“And what about my offer?”
He stopped what he was doing and turned to face her. “I can’t do it, Joan,” he said. “In fact, I don’t even think you really want me to do it.”
She looked down at the floor and said, “You may be right about that, Matt. Will you have breakfast with us in the morning?”
“No, I think I’ll just get an early start.”
“I’ll make up a package for you,” she said. “Some food you can eat along the way. Maybe an extra shirt or two that Andy doesn’t need.”
“That’d be great,” Matt said. “I’d appreciate it.”
“And we appreciate everything you’ve done.”
She looked as if she wanted to say more, but finally just turned and walked away. He went to the door and watched as she walked back to the house.
IN THE MORNING both Andy and Joan saw him off, with Joan handing him a bundle wrapped in a blanket and tied off.
“Just some food and, like I told you, a shirt or two that Andy can spare.”
“I’ve never even worn them,” Andy said. “Joan’s always buyin’ me new shirts.”
“Thanks very much.” Matt tied the bundle onto the back of his saddle, with his bedroll, then mounted up.
“I wish I had a horse to give you,” Andy said, “but that steeldust you’re on is better than anythin’ we have here.”
“What you’ve given me is good enough,” Matt assured them.
“Good luck, then,” Andy said. “Stop by here again if you’re back this way.”
“I will,” Matt promised.
He waved again and headed north.
HE WAS CAMPING his first night out, after having gone at a leisurely pace for most of the day, just letting the steeldust stretch its legs while he did the same. He had opened the package Joan had given him, found the shirts and some cold chicken and another item he didn’t understand.
He had finished the chicken and was drinking coffee when he heard horses approaching. From the sound of it, there were half a dozen or so. Something must have been wrong for them to be riding so determinedly at night.
He was standing when they reached him, with his Peacemaker tucked into his belt.
“Hello the camp!” someone shouted. “Can we come in?”
“Come ahead,” Matt said.
He watched while six men rode in from the darkness to the light of his fire. One of the riders he recognized right away. It was Robbie Gentry, the bartender from the Big Muddy Saloon in Mud City.
“What brings you out here at night, Gentry?” Matt asked.
“Before we start,” an older man said, “could we ask you to drop your gun to the ground, please?”
“Why?”
“Better just drop it, friend,” Gentry said. “You’re not gonna try to use it on the six of us.”
Gentry was right. Even on his best day as a lawman, Matt wouldn’t have tried that. He took the gun from his waistband and dropped it to the ground.
“Thank you,” the older man said.
“What’s this about?” Matt asked.
“Andy Mannix was shot and killed this mornin’,” Gentry said.
“Ah, Jesus . . . who did it?”
“Well,” Gentry said, “Joan says you did.”
“What?”
“We don’t have a lawman in Mud City,” the older man said, “but I’m the mayor, and these men are a sort of vigilante committee.”
“So you decided to come after me,” Matt said. “Look, Andy was alive when I left. And, Gentry, like you told me, Joan did ask me to kill him.”
“You told him that?” the mayor asked Gentry.
“I told him there might be some work out there for him, but to watch out for Joan. Yeah, I told him she might try to pay him to kill Andy.”
“She made the offer,” Matt said, “but Andy himself said he knew about these offers and that she never really meant it.”
“Mr. Wheeler, we’re gonna dismount,” the mayor said.
“Come ahead,” Matt said. “I’ve got a pot of coffee on. Don’t know if I’ve got enough for everybody, but I can make another.”
The vigilante committee dismounted and tied off their horses. The four men who hadn’t spoken simply stood by and watched as the mayor and Robbie Gentry accepted coffee from Matt.
“My name’s Hollis,” the mayor said.
“Well, Mayor Hollis,” Matt asked, “what proof has Joan offered that I killed her husband?”
“She says she saw you shoot ’im,” the mayor said.
“Well, that’s a lie. Anything else?”
The mayor and Gentry exchanged a glance.
“Well,” Gentry said, “she says you stole his watch.”
“I killed him and stole his watch?” Matt asked. “Did she say I stole his shirts, too?”
“Shirts?” the mayor asked.
“She made a package for me, wrapped in a blanket,” Matt said, “some shirts and some food.”
“Where is that package?” the mayor asked.
“Right there.”
The mayor and Gentry both looked at the blanket off to the side tied with rope.
“Do you mind?” the mayor asked.
“Go ahead.”
The mayor stood and walked to the wrapped blanket, started to untie it.
“You mind if I search you, Wheeler?” Gentry asked.
“Go ahead,” Matt said, “and have your other men look in my saddlebags. You’re not going to find a watch.”
The mayor found the shirts and a few pieces of chicken.
“No watch,” he said.
Gentry patted Matt down and said, “Not here, either.”
They looked over at the other men, who had checked the saddlebags, as they shook their heads.
“So what do you want to do now?” Matt asked.
Mayor Hollis looked at him. “We’ve still got her word that she saw you shoot ’im,” he said.
“Her word against mine,” Matt said. “Mr. Mayor, was Gentry here right about Joan offering other men money to kill her husband?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Hollis said.
“It’s a big joke in town,” one of the other men said with a laugh. He subsided when the mayor gave him a stern look.
“Look,” Matt said, “I figure you came all this way and figured to take me in if you found that watch.”
“That’s what we figured, yeah,” Mayor Hollis said.
“You’ve got no other proof to take me in except for the word of a woman who is well-known for trying to hire somebody to kill her husband. You know what I think?”
“She finally decided to do it herself,” Gentry said.
“And then blame me,” Matt said, “the last man who turned her down. As a former lawman, I can tell you, you’ve got nothing to haul me in on.”
As a lawman in the same situation, Matt would have taken himself in, anyway. He hoped that these men wouldn’t be able to make that decision.
He saw with some satisfaction that the mayor and Gentry exchanged sheepish looks.
“We’ve got no authority to take you in without proof,” the mayor said. “We’ve got no lawman, and the circuit judge comes to town once a year, and he was here last month.”
“So we rode out here at night for nothin’?” one of the other men said.
“You fellas are welcome to bed down for the night and get a start back in the morning. Whenever your circuit judge shows up, you might want him to take a look at the situation with Joan.”
Hollis and Gentry exchanged a look again.
“You might even want to appoint a lawman before then,” Matt added.
“You said you used to be a lawman?” Hollis asked.
“Sheriff of Fairview, Montana,” Matt said. “That was a while back.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be interested—”
“From chief suspect to lawman?” Matt asked. “Now, how would that look?”
“I think he’s right,” Gentry said. “We’d better just find our own candidate.”
“I tell you what,” Matt said. “I’m heading back to Fairview after a few years away. I don’t know when I’ll be getting there, but that’s your best bet to find me if you want me to come back to testify.”
Hollis looked unhappy. “We’d better mount up and start back,” he said.
“In the dark?” one of the other men complained.
“Let’s make a few miles and then camp for the night,” Gentry suggested.
Matt felt that at least Hollis and Gentry were too embarrassed to bed down in his camp after their “capture” and “interrogation” of him came to nothing.
The six men retrieved their horses, mounted up, then looked down at Matt.
“Sorry about this, Wheeler,” Robbie Gentry said. “And I guess I’m sorry I sent you out there to find work.”
“I’m not,” Matt said. “I got what I needed, a few dollars to continue my journey with.”
“Well,” Gentry said, “good luck to you.”
The six men rode off, leaving Matt alone to make himself another pot of coffee. While it was boiling, he walked into the bushes and retrieved the pocket watch he had secreted there. Obviously, Joan had put it in with the shirts for the vigilantes to find and use to take Matt into custody. Matt had no doubt that Joan had decided to kill her husband herself. Poor Andy. He had liked the man. It must have been a great shock to be killed by his own wife after he was convinced she never really wanted him dead.
Angrily, Matt turned and threw the pocket watch out into the darkness.