16

At the blast there was a sharp cry of pain and then an oath. The night stabbed with flame and answering shots sizzled the air uncomfortably close to Fargo’s head. He rolled, levered another cartridge into the Henry’s chamber, and fired again.

From the soddy window came a bleat of “What the hell?” The candle was extinguished and a rifle boomed.

Rufus and Abe were shooting wild and lead thwacked the ground all around.

Heaving upright, Fargo ran for the side of the soddy. Rufus must have spotted him because lead clipped a whang on his sleeve. He ducked around and the shooting stopped, and in the sudden silence his ears rang.

Fargo pressed his back to the wall and swore he felt it move. Turning, he discovered that it was partially buckled from age and neglect.

A sound prompted him to peer out. He was sure he’d hit Rufus but he must have missed his vitals.

Another sound, from inside the soddy, let him know that Abe was still in there. He focused on the doorway, the only way out. Or so he thought.

A form abruptly dived through the window.

Fargo snapped a shot, and so did Abe, in midair. The slug thudded into a clod of grass next to Fargo’s face, causing him to jerk back. When he looked out again, Abe was melting into the dark.

Fargo wanted to kick himself. He’d had a chance at both and blown it. Now he must go after them.

Tucking at the waist, he darted out. He reached the spot where he thought Rufus had been and stopped and crouched to listen. He figured they might go for their horses and fan the breeze but the night was as still as a cemetery.

They were out there somewhere, intent on finishing him off.

Fargo stalked them. He was wary of shooting at anything that moved; it could be the marshal.

Off in the night there was a scuffing sound.

Fargo stopped. The trick to playing cat and mouse was to move as little as possible. He waited for them to give themselves away, aware that Rufus and Abe were probably doing the same.

Something moved off to his right.

Fargo trained the Henry. Whoever it was, they were coming toward him. A few more steps and he could send them to hell. Then he caught a faint gleam on the figure’s chest, the glint of metal reflecting starlight. “Coltraine!” he whispered.

The marshal darted over and hunkered. “Here you are. What the hell happened? You were supposed to wait for me to shoot.”

Scanning for sign of the outlaws, Fargo whispered, “You took too long. I had a chance at Rufus and took it.”

“Did you drop him?”

“No.”

“You should have waited. Now we’re up against all six.”

“Only two. Rufus and Abe.”

“You don’t say.” Coltraine peered toward the soddy. “They could be anywhere. I’ll go check the sodbuster’s.”

“They’re not there.”

“It never hurts to be sure.”

Before Fargo could object, the lawman dashed off.

Simmering, Fargo stayed put. If Coltraine wanted his head blown off, let him go running around. Fargo would be damned if he’d make the same mistake.

Long minutes of silence followed. The coyotes had gone quiet and the breeze had died.

Fargo could crouch there all night if he had to. He thought about what Rufus and Abe had said and a cold anger festered.

Unexpectedly, Marshal Coltraine came running back. “No sign of them in the soddy. I reckon they’re gone.”

“You could be wrong.”

“Maybe. But I’m no good at twiddling my thumbs. We might as well head for town.”

“After you,” Fargo said, motioning.

The lawman’s reputation for fearlessness was well deserved. Standing, he made for where they had left their horses.

Fargo trailed a few steps behind. He wasn’t as willing to gamble his hide on a hunch. But they reached the Ovaro and the bay without being fired at.

Still not satisfied it was safe, he rode with his hand on his Colt.

They had gone about a quarter of a mile when Marshal Coltraine slowed so the Ovaro could come up alongside. “Well, that was a disappointment. I’d hoped to buck them out permanent.”

“They knew we were coming.”

“How could they?”

“They were lying in wait for us, I tell you.”

“You’re mistaken,” Coltraine insisted. “I didn’t tell a soul what we were up to. How about you?”

“No.”

“Then they couldn’t have.”

“You’re forgetting who told us the outlaws would be there.”

“Amanda Brenner? You’re sayin’ she’s in cahoots with the Cotton Gang?” Coltraine gave a curt laugh. “That’s plumb ridiculous.”

“I heard Rufus and Abe talking,” Fargo enlightened him. “Hoby Cotton sent them to kill us. He wouldn’t have unless he knew in advance.”

“Listen to yourself,” Coltraine said. “After all that poor girl has been through, how can you accuse her?”

“What has she been through?”

“Did one of those shots glance off your noggin? You helped track her down and save her from her ordeal.”

“What ordeal?” Fargo said. “Hoby and his gang never laid a finger on her.”

“They abducted her at gunpoint. That was enough.”

“Are you defending her because she’s the banker’s daughter? Or because you just refuse to see it?”

“See what? Amanda Brenner is as fine a young lady as I’ve ever met. She’s not one of those gals who puts on airs because she’s well to do or likes her own looks. She’s down to earth. Sweet. Considerate.”

“Marry her, why don’t you?”

“I should slug you,” Coltraine said.

“Will you at least question her? Make her admit the truth?”

“There’s no truth to admit. I won’t have you questionin’ her, either. She’s been through enough. You hear me?”

“I’m right here.”

“I mean it. If I hear you’ve been pesterin’ her, I’ll take it personal. Leave things like that to me.”

Fargo didn’t respond. He’d already made up his mind what he was going to do. He didn’t like having a bull’s-eye painted on his buckskins by a devious little filly. He didn’t like it at all.