Matt kept his Colt in his hand and went inside the small lobby of the hotel. There was no one in the cafe or lobby and no desk clerk. Coming down the stairs was King Driscoll, followed by Adriane, and they paused at the last step. Bonnie was at the top of the stairs in her riding clothes, and she stopped to watch.
Matt moved a few steps aside to have a wall at his back.
King appeared friendly. “Heard they tried to blow up the jail, Marshal. Was anyone hurt?”
“No.”
Adriane forced a smile. “Oh, Matt, I have to talk to you.”
He waved her back. “Where’s Kerby?”
King’s face darkened. “Why?”
“I have a warrant for his arrest.”
“On what charge?”
“He murdered the first Mrs. McClain.”
King went pale. “That’s a lie.”
“Pollard saw him do it.”
“He’s lying to save his skin.”
Matt was grim. “We’ll let the jury decide that.”
“You’d never get a conviction.”
“Not here, maybe. But Laramie might be different.”
King’s hands were shaking as he gripped them together. Adriane was frantic and took her father’s arm.
“Matt,” she whispered. “Don’t do this.”
Her father drew a deep breath. “Let me bring him down, Marshal. We’ll talk to the judge.”
“Nobody’s takin’ me anywhere!”
The voice was cold and harsh and came from Kerby Driscoll at the top of the stairs. He had his six-gun in his right hand, and his left arm was around Bonnie’s throat, choking her as she frantically clawed at his arm.
He kept her in front of him.
Matt froze. “Let her go.”
“You blast me, you’ll get her,” Kerby said. “Now stand aside. All of you. Me and the little lady are going for a ride.”
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Matt said.
King pushed Adriane behind him as he turned. “Kerby, put that gun down and let her go.”
“You made me run away from Ohio, and all the time, you know them women got what they deserved. And so did McClain’s woman. Leadin’ a man on for nothin’. Smilin’ and teasin’.”
“Kerby, for my sake,” King gasped. “Please—”
“No, Pa. You’re always stoppin’ me. Well, this time, I’m in charge. And I’m not running away no more.”
Bonnie was fighting to free herself, but she was too small in his strong grip. Every effort she made only cut off her wind, and she was gasping for air.
Bonnie tried kicking him with her boot, but he just lifted her off her feet, and she lost all her color. She was unconscious, and he relaxed his arm hold from her neck, letting her fall slightly. He then wrapped his left arm about her waist and held her in front of him.
Matt was hot with anger. He kept aiming at Kerby as the man came down the steps, dragging the motionless Bonnie with six-gun pointed to her temple.
Adriane gripped her father’s arm. “Kerby, stop this.”
“Let him go, honey,” King advised her.
“Yeah,” Kerby snarled. “And you, Marshal, drop that Colt or I’ll blow her head off.”
“No, you won’t.”
Matt backed to the wall, six-gun leveled, but he didn’t want to agitate the crazed Kerby.
Dragging Bonnie outside with his weapon still at her head, Kerby made faces at the men who turned to stare. He moved out onto the steps, then onto the boardwalk and into the street. The sun was bright, but the mud sucked at his boots as he continued his staggered path.
Bonnie, coming to life, found herself in the circle of his arm. She pretended to still be unconscious while held tight at his side, the barrel of his gun hard against her temple.
Matt was on the boardwalk, the Colt ice cold in his grip. He was in agony, not knowing just what to do next, so he just started walking toward Kerby, who came to a halt.
“Stay back, Marshal.”
Matt stopped some ten feet from them.
Suddenly, Bonnie reared up and clawed Kerby’s face. He yelped, and she broke free, falling backwards into the mud and crawling frantically away.
As Kerby tried to chase her, Matt holstered his gun and flew across the space between them like a bullet. He crashed into Kerby who fired at him, the bullet burning Matt’s left arm above the elbow.
But Matt was upon him, beating him down to the muddy ground. Kerby fought back, grabbing Matt around the neck and wounded arm. Kerby pounded his chest, and Matt slammed his big fist into Kerby’s jaw.
They rolled in the mud, sliding around in their struggle to get a grip on each other. Matt rose up over him, then hit him on the jaw again. Kerby’s six-gun was lost in the mud, and he roared like an animal as he slid out from under Matt. He got up on his knees and charged at the prone Matt, falling on him.
Again they rolled around, beating each other with their fists. Kerby kicked and clawed. They were both covered with mud, and each was slippery as the other tried to grab hold.
They rose to their feet, grappling wildly. Then Kerby lost his footing and fell backwards, landing on his rear.
Matt jumped forward and grabbed him, rolling him over and bringing his right arm behind his back with a crunch. Kerby yelled, but he was stopped cold.
“Hold it,” shouted Stoney from the doorway of the jail.
Matt dragged his prisoner to his feet and turned to see Blackie running out in the mud to his side.
Matt pushed the prisoner forward, and Stoney helped him shove Kerby into the other cell as Pollard backed as far away as he could. Kerby was so covered with mud, he was hardly recognizable. Matt was just as covered, but he could take a bath. His dog shook off its mud, all over Stoney, who swore.
“Get Kerby some water to clean up,” Matt said.
Moving back outside with Blackie trailing, Matt saw Bonnie sitting up in the mud. Beyond, King Driscoll held his daughter’s hand on the hotel steps, and he was furious as he shouted at Matt.
“You can’t hold my son. Not on the word of some outlaw who’s trying to save his own skin.”
“Seems your son added a few words of his own.”
“That’s not admissible.”
“I’m afraid it is, bein’ spontaneous like it was.”
King looked devastated as Adriane hugged him.
Matt knelt at Bonnie’s side. She had mud on her face and clothes and even in her hair, but she was smiling.
“You look awful,” Matt said.
“So do you. Like greased pigs at the county fair.”
He grinned, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. “I reckon we both need a bath and a change of clothes.”
She slid against him, and his arm went around her. But when she saw Adriane watching from the hotel steps she pulled away on her own, so he just held her hand.
Before they could reach the boardwalk, Matt’s feet went out from under him, and he went over backwards. Bonnie tried to hold him and lost her footing, crashing down against his chest.
They collapsed in the mud. Matt was disgusted, so he just lay there, soaking in it, while Bonnie sat up at his side. She was laughing at him, and he looked up at her. Even with her muddy face, she was beautiful.
He reached up to put his hand at her shoulder, and he pulled her down to him, forcing her face closer, muddied flaxen hair falling about her throat and cheeks. She looked delicious. His lips found hers but slid right off. They laughed together.
She drew back, and again he got to his feet. He took her hand and carefully pulled her up to his side. As his arm encircled her, he finally remembered the whole town was watching. His face reddened under the mud.
The Driscolls watched them for a long moment, then went back inside the hotel.
At the hotel entrance Matt paused, her hand in his.
“Will you be all right?”
“Yes, but, Matt, what are you going to do? It’s just you and Stoney in there. And they must have the town sealed off.”
“You just go upstairs and stay there.”
Bonnie nodded, squeezing his hand, and went inside, where she was instantly confronted by an angry Adriane.
“You stay away from my Matt.”
Bonnie’s face darkened under the mud. “I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me.”
“Just remember what I said. He’s mine.”
Bonnie turned and went up the stairs, and Adriane was smug, determined if she couldn’t have Matt, neither could this useless woman.
Meanwhile, Matt headed for the jail to gather some clean clothes before going to Tuck’s for a hot bath.
He entered through the barbershop through the gaping hole in front and went to the back rooms where he found a barely conscious Red and a heavily bandaged, immobile Jasper, both on beds against the walls.
Jasper was trying to talk. His words came with great difficulty. “I’m right sorry, Matt.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Tuck says you got Monet. And now you got Kerby in jail.”
“Stoney’s in there with me. We’ll be all right.”
But even as he had his bath and changed into clean clothes, Matt wasn’t so sure. As he went back out into the sunlight he glanced down at the silver badge on his shirt, wondering if it was worth all of this. He knew it was.
Back at the jail Matt slumped in his chair at the desk. He was exhausted and weary, and as he checked his Colt he felt nausea from having killed a man.
Stoney was sitting with his boots on the table.
Pollard, keeping as far from the angry Kerby as he could, was gripping the cell bars. “Marshal, you can’t keep me in here with ol’ Kerby.”
“Keep quiet,” Stoney said, “or I’ll gag you.”
Pollard glared at him and went back to his bunk, but Kerby sat looking at Pollard with contempt. “When I get out of here, Pollard, I’ll personally string you up.”
“Yeah, well, you’re gonna hang, Kerby. I never did like you none. You’re a dude, that’s what you are. A nothing. And I saw you kill that first Mrs. McClain.”
“You’re lyin’. And I can tell plenty about you.”
“You don’t know nothin’,” Pollard snapped. “Besides, I made a deal, and it’s too late for you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe the marshal would wanna hear about all them raids you made out of this valley afore we come along, and how we got you to bribe the sheriff, and how you were the ones doin’ most of the killin’.”
“You gave the orders,” Pollard said.
Kerby hid his fear by sitting down with a mean look on his face, but he was plenty worried and sweating.
The smithy came and repaired the stovepipe with new fittings so they could have hot food and coffee. Matt and Stoney took turns sleeping, for they knew there was a long night ahead. When Matt was lying down, Blackie came and crawled on the cot, settling down with his head on Matt’s chest, his wet nose inches from Matt’s chin.
“You’re a thief,” Matt mumbled.
Blackie lapped Matt right across the mouth, and Matt grumbled and wiped his lips. “Drat.”
That night they were on their guard. Matt had buried the black powder out front when the moon was covered by clouds, but he realized he’d have a hard time seeing it in the dark.
The prisoners were sleeping around midnight when Matt began to feel his skin crawl. Blackie was growling and hair was rising on the back of the dog’s neck as Matt sat up, shoving Blackie aside.
Stoney sat up in his chair. “Somethin’s goin’ on.”
They turned down the lamps, and Matt peered out the front window into the moonlight. Men on horseback were gathering with a huge log dangling from ropes between two of their mounts. They lined up in front of the jail and were heavily armed. They were going to ram the door.