Chapter 30
“Can you believe the nerve of Mrs. Bartholomew?” Now that Tempest had a chance to think about it, she was getting up a good head of steam. “She left me high and dry in Delaware Bend, and then had the nerve to waltz into Burnt Boggy Saloon and act like we were best friends.”
“Maybe she was inspired by your actions,” Lucky said.
“Even worse, she pretended like what she did in the Bend was all for show when I know very well that she meant it.”
“Maybe she knew something you didn’t.”
“I only made one little chop. She burned down an entire saloon!”
“It was just a tent. And nobody was hurt.”
She reached over and pinched his arm. “Whose side are you on anyway?”
Lucky raised his hands, as if in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just saying I think she told the truth, at least from her viewpoint. When she heard about Temperance Tempest, she realized that a few chops with a hatchet could garner a lot more attention than a few songs.”
“But she left me in the Bend.”
“People have a way of twisting history to suit their aims. I imagine she believes her own story now.”
“But it’s not true.”
“Truth is in the eyes of the beholder.”
“Oh, be quiet!” She was so irritated she wanted to strike out at something because she’d never be able to get justice with Mrs. Bartholomew.
“I’d take her actions as a compliment. She just as well as admitted that you were right and she was wrong.”
“You think so?”
“It appears that way to me.”
“You may be right.” She felt a little mollified. She supposed she’d have to let her grudge go, although she’d been planning to nurse it for some time.
“I know you want to wait for Haig to get here, but I’d like to head out for Fort Coffee. It’ll take us days to get there as it is.”
“But he’s got Grandma’s money.”
“He’s spent it several times over by now.”
“I don’t mean her exact money, but he ought to have enough to pay me back.”
“Tell me how much and I’ll pay for him.”
“Thank you. But that’s not the same. There’s a principle involved here.”
“We don’t have time for principles.”
“Maybe we should take time.”
“I’m serious. We found the artist. We can find Haig on our way back.”
She sighed, knowing he made sense but not wanting to lose the opportunity to catch Haig. Elmira and Lamira had a gold eagle and payment for a gown, so they wouldn’t go hungry. Lucky had supported her thus far without complaint. Oddly enough, she was picking up his urgency. Haig’s trade was in Indian Territory, so he wouldn’t just disappear.
“What do you say?” he asked.
“Okay. You helped me. I’ll help you next. But I hate to lose Haig when he’s so close.”
Lucky reached over and squeezed her hand. “We’ll get him. And it’ll be for more than money. We can get him thrown in jail.”
“That’s exactly what I want. Justice.”
“It’s one thing to sell whiskey to American outlaws who are hiding out here. It’s another to sell to Indians. That’s something Deputy U.S. Marshals will definitely want to know about.”
“How do we find a deputy?”
“If nothing else, we go to the courthouse in Fort Smith.”
“Thanks.” She felt gratitude and warmth toward Lucky. She wished again that they hadn’t been interrupted when she was just learning the pleasures of being a man’s ladylove.
“Shhhh.” He held up his hand. “Do you hear that?”
She stopped and listened. She heard a rumbling in the west. “Is that a wagon coming our way?”
“Yes.”
“Why is everybody driving around in the dead of night out here?” She felt irritated for some reason. Maybe it was because she couldn’t seem to get a moment alone with Lucky, even when they were in the middle of nowhere.
“Stay still. They won’t see us here.”
“You don’t suppose . . . it couldn’t be Haig, could it?”
“Not unless they’ve been driving those mules into the ground.”
She felt a tingling in the Soleil Wheel over her heart. “I have a strange feeling it’s them.”
“If it is, we’ve got the drop on them.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Draw your revolver.”
As she eased her .32 out of its holster, she heard him slide his Winchester out of its saddle holster.
“If that wagon is going to Burnt Boggy, it’ll have to slow almost to a stop to make the turn off the main road. That’s when I’ll get a bead on the driver.”
“And you want me to throw down on Haig?”
“Just point your .32 in their direction. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“My hands are shaking so much I’m not sure if I can hold my gun steady.”
“Brace your hands on your saddle horn. And stay quiet.”
She clamped her teeth together, feeling shaky with chills. She wasn’t sure if she was scared or excited, but she knew she was exhilarated. She took deep breaths as she heard the wagon come closer. She was determined to be as cool and calm as Lucky. Maybe experience made all the difference.
As moonlight washed over the wagon, she saw only one person sitting on the seat. He wore a cowboy hat and held the reins. She felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. If Haig wasn’t the driver, where was he? She wanted to point out the problem and ask Lucky, but she remained quiet. Then again, maybe Haig had gotten rid of the driver and taken over the reins.
She realized she was holding her breath as the wagon slowed for the turn onto the Boggy River road. She quietly took a deep breath and prepared for action.
The driver completed the turn and drew the mules to a stop. He picked up a canteen and took a drink.
Lucky cocked his rifle and the sound was loud in the night. “I’d set that down real easy.”
The driver dropped the canteen and threw up his hands. “Mister, you can have whatever I’ve got. Just let me live.”
When Lucky glanced at Tempest, she shook her head to indicate that the man wasn’t Haig. He sounded like the driver they’d heard back at the creek.
“What happened to your partner?” Lucky asked.
“No partner of mine!” The man hawked and spit over the side of the wagon. “Damn fool about killed these mules in a race to get to Burnt Boggy.”
“And?” Lucky prodded.
“A few miles back he took a notion to forget the whole thing. He got down, got on the horse he had tied to the back of the wagon, and took off like greased lightnin’.”
“What’s your name?” Lucky asked.
“Rusty.” He gestured with his head toward the back of the wagon. “You can have this whole kit and caboodle. I don’t know your name and I can’t see your face. I’d be much obliged if you’d let me get down and walk back to Texas.”
“Burnt Boggy is burning as we speak.”
“Hornswoggle! Again?”
“If I was you, I’d turn that contraption around and make for Texas.”
“You’d let me go?”
“I’m interested in your partner, not you.”
“Might you be a Deputy U.S. Marshal? If so, I hope you catch that sidewinder. He’s a stone-cold killer.”
“I’ll get him.”
“If you won’t take me in for transporting whiskey, I promise I won’t sell a drop in Indian Territory.”
“Do you know where your partner went?”
“He said he had to see a man about a horse up near Skullyville. Bet he is meeting up with a bunch of horse thieves. If you’re gonna tangle with him, I’d take backup.”
“Thanks for the warning. Now get your rig turned around and get out of here.”
Rusty grabbed his reins. “You won’t regret letting me go. When I get north of the Red River, I’m staying there. Indian Territory is gettin’ too all-fired dangerous for the likes of me.” He turned his team around and drove away.
Tempest waited quietly with Lucky till the wagon was down the road toward the west before she glanced over at him.
“Sorry.” He slid his rifle back into its holster. “Haig’s flown the coop.”
“It’s okay. We’d already agreed to move on without confronting him.” She carefully tucked away her revolver.
“What bothers me is his sudden change of plans. Why give up money from a whiskey sale when he was so close to Burnt Boggy?”
“Maybe he somehow knew it was going up in smoke?”
“Even so, he’d figure Red Dog would need the delivery.”
“At least we know where he’s going.”
“Maybe Haig just gave Rusty a town’s name to cover his tracks,” he said.
“Where is Skullyville?”
“It’s near Fort Coffee.”
“And that’s near the Mounds?”
“Right.” Lucky looked toward the northeast.
She felt a tingle in the Soleil Wheel over her heart. “Do you think the Moon Rattler is calling us?”
“I think it’s time we were on our way.”