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Noah Stanton had been Liam's shadow since he'd been old enough to ride a horse, which was not long after he'd learned to walk, which was shortly after his mama had taken off his diapers, letting him shift that out for himself. Most people didn't even notice Noah unless he was standing in the proximity of Liam, even though he stood a head taller. His father had told him there wasn't a thought in his head that hadn't first been rattling around in Liam's. So, when Liam hatched a plan to take the gold they'd stashed behind the cabin and light out, of course Noah went along with it. The fact that Gilford Hall might do very bad things to them never resolved itself into a thought in Noah's head, because Liam confidently declared that they could get away with it.
Two pack mules and four horses had been acquired from a ranch outside Lake City. The plan had no finesse to it. Neither man possessed enough gray matter between them to devise anything that might even warrant the name plan. They were just going to load the saddle-bags with as much as the mules could carry and leave. The closest thing that resembled a plan was that they had a destination of Oregon Territory. How they themselves might avoid being victims of a robbery, or where they could find an assay office and sell the gold without raising questions had not been a topic of conversation.
"Did anyone ask you why you needed so much truck?" Liam asked Noah as he carried bags and boxes into the cabin while Liam sat on the sagging porch watching him.
"Nah. They just thought I was goin' huntin' in the mountains. I told 'em I heard there was a pack o' wolves up Mount Baldy and I was goin' to bag me a few and come down and sell the hides for a stacka' gold. I told 'em I might even try to snag me a bear, maybe two. That's why I needed all them supplies." Noah looked quite pleased with himself.
"You told 'em all that, did 'ya? Seems you did a might more talkin' than I told you to. Dang, Noah! What was you thinkin'?" That was a rhetorical question, of course, and Noah stood with his mouth agape.
"Well, it don't matter much. I'm just quit of this place. I'm tired of that pretty boy, Ethan, telling me what to do! And I ain't so sure that new man, Cahill, ain't got his own ideas about stealing the gold."
The sun had set before they could finish sorting out the essentials that they'd need and those items that Noah had simply taken a fancy to. Not having carried that much money at any time in his life, the temptation was too great not to buy a few extras that caught his eye, like a full tin of lemon drops and another of black licorice. Liam conceded that he could take with him as much as he could carry in his pockets but no more. So, while they packed up the saddle-bags, Noah continued to stuff copious amounts of lemon drops and licorice into not only his pockets, but his mouth.
Liam tugged on the halter of the second mule, attempting to pull him closer to the cellar in back where the gold was stashed. He was anxious to be loaded and on their way before sunrise, thinking Ethan and the rest of them might be coming at any time. As much as he hated the sheriff's cock of a son, he had no desire to face him with a gun. Liam wasn't that good. Maybe if he could ambush him, he could take him out with his rifle, but that wasn't in his plan. He just wanted to be shut of Snowberry for good. He'd been looked down on too long by her good citizens.
Unfortunately, for both men, Ethan had decided to bring the promised supplies on this night. Frustrated by the day's events and his lack of success in getting information from Kat Meriwether, he decided a ride might be just what he needed. As it turned out, it was not.
His horse and the one he led packed with supplies stepped into the cabin's clearing just as Liam finished loading the last pack. Liam's head snapped up. From over the back of the mule he watched warily as Ethan approached the cabin. With eyes locked on the man, he pulled the pistol from the holster at his hip.
With the light of a nearly full moon, Ethan cautiously scanned the area, a habit of mistrust developed over the years working with men who trusted him as little as he trusted them. Riding in with his rifle balanced on his lap, his hand resting on the trigger guard, the muscles in his lower back tensed with each step. Tied to the porch post both men's horses stood saddled, pawing impatiently at the ground. Liam and Noah may have been lazy but both treated their horses better than family. They wouldn't leave them tacked up unless...
Ethan swung his head, straining to see past the shadows to either side of the house. Slipping from the saddle, he positioned himself so that his horse shielded him from anyone in the house. The fact that no one had stepped out to greet him only increased his uneasiness. The horses gave evidence that the men were still in the vicinity and they most likely were aware of his presence since he'd done nothing to make a stealthy approach, something he wished he'd thought to do.
"Liam! Noah! Come on out and see this fine box of whiskey I brought you." Having announced his presence, he brought the rifle barrel up, slowly chambering a round as he did. A movement in the shadow to the right of the cabin drew his eye.
"Liam, that you?" Ethan recognized the man's stoop-shouldered bulk. "I brought some supplies for you and Noah." He kept his voice even, casual, but the rifle in his hands belied his tone.
"Might neighborly of you." Liam's voice spoke from the shadows, simmering with anger.
"Surprised you haven't tended to your horses. That's not like you." Ethan sought to buy some time to assess the situation. He'd feel easier knowing where Noah was. "Hey, Noah! Come help me carry in your supplies."
"He's busy." Ethan could see the shadowed figure toss his head to the side. "Privy."
"Mr. Ethan?"
Ethan's gaze shifted to the left of the cabin, where Noah stepped out of the shadows, slack-mouthed, leading a pack mule.
Well, this was the least favorable scenario he could have imagined, flanked in the dark. Ethan continued to feign ignorance of the obvious intentions of the two men to head out. The packs on the mule certainly didn't suggest their departure was simply to take off without compensation. "What's going on, Liam?"
"I've had enough of you and your father! Me and Noah got plans of our own," Liam snarled back. As he did, he side-stepped to the protective cover of the cabin's western wall. "Now you, just head on back to your daddy."
Ethan could see the glint of moonlight off Liam's revolver. "Liam! You'll never get away with it." He didn't shout it. He simply stated the obvious fact.
From his left, Ethan watched Noah step forward, apparently unaware of the dangerous position he had moved into. "Ethan, why are you here?"
"Noah, get back!" Ethan shouted this time, worried that Noah would soon block his view of Liam. He tried again to reason with the man. "Liam, you know my father will never stop chasing you. He'll track you down."
Pulling up the mule, Noah turned to look in the direction that Ethan now pointed his rifle. "Liam? We ain't gonna shoot anyone else, are we?"
Liam's voice from the deeper shadows called out, "Noah, you simpleton, get out of the way!"
Ethan scanned the shadowed edge of the clearing for Liam. All he could do was hope to take some shelter of his own on the opposite, eastern wall of the cabin. He ran past Noah and the unhappy mule, sliding behind the edge of the porch. Laying his head back against the log wall, he cursed softly; this was the out-of-control he'd feared. He'd managed to extract himself from worse situations by using his persuasive skills. He tried again. "Liam, take a sack of gold and you and Noah head out. You can set yourself up in a nice town and live pretty good." Ethan didn't want to do this. He was sick of the whole thing. If he could just head out on his own, he would. An owl hooted from a nearby pine, laughing at him. His father wouldn't let him go either. "Liam, I don't want to fight you."
A sudden movement to his right brought him to his feet too late. He swung his rifle a moment after the flash from Liam's pistol sent a bullet ripping into Ethan's stomach. Ethan fired, striking Liam squarely in the chest. The man fell backward with the impact, crying out. Ethan dropped his gun and sagged to the ground.
Noah came at a run, kneeling by his friend's side, a look of disbelief washing over his face. "Liam? Liam? You dead?"
Ethan watched as Noah picked up Liam's gun, staring at it with a vacuous expression.
"You killed him, Ethan." Noah stood and walked toward Ethan, the gun hanging limp in his hand.
Perhaps he could still survive this. Noah wasn't a killer like Liam. He spoke calmly but with labored breath. "Noah, I need for you to go get my father. Tell him I've been hurt."
Noah shook his head slowly. "I can't do that. He'd kill me."
Ethan felt himself losing focus. He had to get through to this man. "Noah, I'll explain that it was Liam's idea, and you had nothing to do with it. Noah! Look at me!"
Noah dropped the gun and knelt down gaping at the blood pouring from between Ethan's fingers. "You're hurt bad, Ethan."
"Yes, Noah. Go get help. Please." He closed his eyes, passing into unconsciousness.
As Noah rode down the trail, he had a thought that was all his own. It took root in his mind and he watered it with words to keep it fresh in his memory. "I'm goin' to get Ethan help. I'm goin' to get the doctor and get Ethan help so he won't die."
Chapter 20
