Luke Jensen Bounty Hunter Dead Shot Read online

  “You’ll see me again,” Jessica said. “I’m going to be on that stagecoach when it leaves.”

  Luke wasn’t so sure about that, but he didn’t see any point in arguing with her about it before the doctor had even been there.

  They ate the breakfast of flapjacks, fried eggs, and thick slices of ham, washed down with cups of hot coffee. That made Luke feel considerably more human after the long night and not enough sleep. He was sipping the last of his coffee when Jessica said, “I’ve been thinking about what you asked me last night, Mr. Jensen.”

  “You mean about trusting us enough to tell us why those men are after you?” he asked, ignoring the warning frown that Hobie gave him.

  “That’s right.” She directed a cool, level look at Luke as she went on. “And you were right. They were trying to get their hands on me. Those men who attacked the stage, I mean, not just the ones last night. They work for a man named Milton Dietrich.”

  That name meant absolutely nothing to Luke. He glanced over at Hobie. The young man shook his head to indicate that he didn’t recognize it, either.

  Jessica said, “I’m not surprised that neither of you have ever heard of him. He’s a wealthy, powerful man, with interests in railroads and shipping and Lord knows what else, but he likes to conduct his business behind the scenes, I suppose you’d say. He lives in Boston. That’s where I’m from, as well. My father . . . well, he used to do business with Dietrich before he died.”

  “I wasn’t aware that your father had passed on,” Luke said. “I’m sorry.”

  “There was no way you could know about my father or any of the rest of it. But my mother died when I was a little girl. After my father was gone, I didn’t have any relatives in Boston. I have an older brother who lives in California, though. He’s actually my only relative that I know of.”

  “That’s unusual. Most people have large families.”

  “I know,” Jessica said. “I would have loved to have a large family. If I did, Dietrich might not have decided that he could just announce out of the blue that he and I were to be married.”

  “Married!” Hobie exclaimed. “How old is this fella, anyway?”

  Jessica smiled, but there was no warmth in the expression, only disdain. “At least twice my age. But it’s not uncommon for men of his years to marry much younger women, especially successful men.”

  “Maybe not,” Luke said, “but I can understand why you weren’t all that enthusiastic about the match, especially if it was all Dietrich’s idea.”

  “It was, I assure you. Like I said, my father had done business with Dietrich. He built ships for Dietrich’s line. So Dietrich had been to our house. I’ve known him for years. Evidently he’s had his eye on me for . . . quite some time.”

  “Why, that randy old goat!” Hobie said. Instantly, he looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Miss Wheeler—”

  “You can call me Jessica,” she told him. “As much as you’ve both done for me already, even though we haven’t known each other for twenty-four hours yet, you’ve earned the right.”

  “So Dietrich decides the two of you are going to get married,” Luke said, “and you don’t agree. That prompted you to leave Boston and head for California to live with that brother you mentioned.”

  “That’s right, but how did you know?”

  “It’s not very hard to figure out,” Luke said with a shrug. “Then, when Dietrich realized what you’d done, he sent those men to find you and bring you back to him.”

  Jessica nodded solemnly. “Yes, that’s exactly what he did. He’s so arrogant he thinks he can do whatever he pleases, and if anyone defies him, he’ll just crush them and take what he wants.”

  “In this case . . . you.”

  “Yes.” Jessica’s voice was little more than a whisper.

  “Well, by God, we have to put a stop to this,” Hobie declared. “Why didn’t you go to the law? It’s illegal to make people do something they don’t want to do.”

  “Dietrich doesn’t just have hired gunmen working for him,” Jessica said. “He has a small army of lawyers, too, along with plenty of judges and other officials who are in his pocket. He’d just make it sound like he was trying to help the daughter of an old friend and business associate and didn’t have any ulterior motives. He . . . he’d paint me as unstable and claim that my grief over my father’s death had driven me mad.” She looked back and forth between Luke and Hobie. “I honestly don’t think he would hesitate to have me placed in an asylum or something until I agreed to go along with what he wants.”

  “We’ve got to figure out some way to stop him,” Hobie said.

  Jessica reached over and put a hand on his arm as he sat in a chair beside the bed. “I can’t allow you to get mixed up in my troubles any more than you already have. Those men are killers.”

  “Well, they don’t know who they’re dealin’ with,” Hobie blustered. “Why, Luke here is a famous bounty hunter!”

  Jessica’s eyes widened a little as she looked at Luke. “Is that true?”

  “Never mind about that. What makes you think that Dietrich would leave you alone if you reached your brother in California?”

  “He wouldn’t have nearly as much influence clear on the other side of the continent. He can’t tell judges and lawmen out there what to do. And my brother has been pretty successful himself. Nowhere near the level of Milton Dietrich, of course, but Jacob has a fine ranch and plenty of friends. I think I’d be safe there.”

  “More than likely you would be,” Luke agreed. “But first you’ve got to get there.”

  Jessica’s chin jutted out defiantly as she said, “I won’t let that horrible man stop me. I’ll find a way to get there. I will.”

  “Darn right you will,” Hobie said. “We’ll—”

  A knock on the door made him pause before he could promise anything. In the long run, though, that wouldn’t help, Luke thought. He knew what was going through Hobie’s mind just as well as if it were printed on the young man’s face.

  In the meantime, Luke drew his right-hand Remington as he stepped over to the door. “Dr. Bismarck?” he called through the panel.

  “That’s right,” the medico answered.

  Luke opened the door and looked out into the corridor. The tall, spare doctor was alone. Luke holstered the revolver.

  “My patients don’t usually meet me with a gun,” Bismarck said.

  “I’m not your patient,” Luke pointed out. “Miss Wheeler is.” He stepped aside to let the doctor come into the room.

  “If you two gentlemen would give us some privacy . . .” Bismarck said.

  “We’ll be right outside the door,” Hobie told Jessica.

  When they were out in the hall and the door was closed, Luke crossed his arms, leaned against the wall, and said to Hobie, “You were about to tell her we’d take her to California, weren’t you?”

  “Well, somebody needs to. With a bunch of hired killers after her, you don’t think she can make it there alone, do you?”

  “Actually, I’m rather surprised that she’s made it this far. Boston is a long way off.”

  “So if we don’t help her, who will?”

  “I don’t know. But if we don’t track down Gunner Kelly and Dog Eater and get the bank’s money back, who will?”

  “That’s just money,” Hobie said.

  “A necessary evil in this world we live in.”

  “But it’s not important compared to a young woman’s life, is it?”

  “That depends who you’re asking, I suppose.”

  “I’m asking you, Luke.”

  “Let’s wait and see what the doctor says,” Luke suggested.

  Hobie looked like he wasn’t satisfied by that answer, but he didn’t argue any more. They stood there waiting in a somewhat tense silence until the door opened and Dr. Bismarck stepped out into the hallway.

  “Miss Wheeler appears to be in remarkably good condition for someone who took a header down a flight of stairs twelve ho
urs ago. She has some bruises and sore muscles, and I’d feel better about that knock on the head if she was agreeable to spending the next few days resting in bed. But she’s determined to resume her journey, and medically, I can’t really forbid it.”

  “So she can travel on the stagecoach?” Hobie asked.

  “That’s what I just said, isn’t it? I think she should be examined again by a competent physician at the next available opportunity, though.”

  Luke said, “There’ll be doctors in the other towns along the coach’s route. Did you tell her she could travel?”

  “I did. I suspect she’s already packing and getting dressed. She wanted me to tell you to be sure and not let the stagecoach leave without her.”

  “Thanks, Doctor.” Luke glanced at Hobie and added, “I guess we’ll take it from here.”

  A pleased grin spread across the young man’s face.

  A few minutes later, Luke and Hobie walked up to the stagecoach station carrying their rifles and saddlebags. They had checked out of the hotel. The stagecoach sat in front of the barn, where a couple hostlers were finishing up the job of hitching a fresh team of horses to it. The new singletree was in place.

  Jim Pierce walked around the coach inspecting everything, the way a careful jehu did before setting off on a run. He raised a hand in greeting to Luke and Hobie. “I was hopin’ I’d see you fellas again before we left this mornin’.”

  “You’ll see more of us than that,” Luke said. “With Ben Wallace laid up, who’s going to be your shotgun guard?”

  Pierce scratched at his beard and admitted, “We don’t have one. There’s a relief guard waitin’ at Moss City, just across the border in Arizona, but until we get there I reckon I’ll be driver and guard both.”

  “Not necessarily. I’ve got a guard for you.”

  “Who might that be?” Pierce asked.

  Luke turned and leveled a finger at a startled Hobie McCullough.

  CHAPTER 18

  Hobie was a little surprised, but once he realized what Luke had in mind, he was enthusiastic about the idea.

  The station manager wasn’t so sure, though. He frowned and said, “I don’t know how the company would feel about me hiring you for the job, young man.”

  “You don’t have to hire me. Luke and I are headed in that direction anyway. I’ll just tie my horse on at the back of the stage and ride with Mr. Pierce. You don’t have to pay me anything.”

  Hobie’s argument convinced the station manager.

  Pierce was pleased with the development, too. “I ain’t expectin’ any more trouble, but you never know. It’ll be good to have you boys ridin’ with us for the next leg of the trip.”

  Luke and Hobie had promised Jessica they wouldn’t reveal her secret. She hadn’t done anything wrong, of course, but still didn’t want people to know she was being pursued by an older man who had been lusting after her for years.

  Knowing what he did, Luke felt a little bad about not warning Pierce of the very good chance there would be more trouble. The stagecoach would continue on its way regardless, so Luke figured he and Hobie were doing what they could to help it get through to Moss City.

  Hobie wanted to go all the way to California with Jessica. If that was his decision, Luke would wish both of them the best. As for him, he had a couple outlaws to catch.

  Jessica and the Langstons walked down to the station from the hotel a short time later. Luke and Hobie had saddled their horses, and Hobie’s mount was tied at the back of the coach.

  “Where’s that gambler, Kemp?” Stephen Langston asked.

  “Reckon he’s stayin’ here in Harkerville,” Pierce replied. “His ticket was only good for this far, and I ain’t seen him since we got in last night. He probably spent the night in some saloon, playin’ cards, and he’ll sleep away the day.”

  “That means there’s room for you to ride in the coach if you want to,” Langston said to Luke, who shook his head.

  “I’ll be scouting our route,” he explained. Besides, the last thing he wanted to do was spend hours sitting on a hard bench seat in a stagecoach that rocked as much as a ship in rough seas. The dust was always bad inside a coach, too, blowing in despite the canvas covers over the windows. He would be a lot happier out in the fresh air.

  The passengers climbed into the coach and settled down for the journey.

  Hobie was right there to give Jessica a hand getting in. “If you need anything, I’ll be up top. You just give a holler.”

  Luke swung into the saddle as Hobie joined Jim Pierce on the driver’s seat and picked up the shotgun that was lying on the floorboard at his feet.

  The white-mustachioed marshal came along the street and regarded Luke with a disapproving frown. “Can’t say as I’m sorry to see you go, bounty hunter,” he snapped. “I can do without a bunch of gunmen in my town.”

  “Don’t worry, Marshal. I won’t be in any hurry to come back here.” Luke grinned and lifted a hand in a mocking wave of farewell as he heeled his horse into motion.

  They soon left Harkerville behind as the coach rolled on toward the border between New Mexico Territory and Arizona. Luke hadn’t had a chance to ask around the settlement about Kelly and Dog Eater, but he was confident they were headed in the right direction.

  Anyway, the outlaws probably would have avoided the town unless they needed supplies or planned to rob the bank. They would have been more likely to stop at one of the way stations along the stagecoach line to water their horses or buy a meal.

  Luke ranged ahead of the coach by as much as a half mile at times, and he dropped back a similar distance now and then to check their back trail. He didn’t see any signs of trouble, but knew better than to think those hardcases hired by Milton Dietrich would give up. It was only a matter of time until they struck again.

  The coach stopped at an isolated way station at midday to change horses and let the passengers stretch their legs, as well as have a meal of beans and stew. While they were there, Luke asked the man in charge of the station, “Have you seen two men come through here in the past week or so, leading several extra horses?”

  The man, who was wiry and wizened with age and had a brush of gray hair that stuck straight up from his head, tilted his head and frowned. “Are you talkin’ about a white man and a Injun, mister?”

  Luke felt his pulse quicken slightly. “That’s right. The Indian is an Apache.”

  The man spat. “I seen ’em, all right. Let ’em water their horses. But somethin’ about ’em wasn’t right, and it wasn’t just that the one fella was a ’Pache. Those red devils make everybody in this part of the country uneasy. But I tell you, that white man spooked me just as much or more than the Injun. I stood in the door with my rifle in my hands the whole time they was here. I was mighty relieved when they rode off.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Three days, I think,” the man replied with a squint-eyed frown. “The days sort of run together out here, but yeah, I’m pretty sure it was three days ago.”

  Luke and Hobie had cut into their lead, somehow. Kelly and Dog Eater must have been just ambling along, Luke thought, supremely confident that no one was on their trail.

  He was about to thank the man for the information and move on, but something else occurred to him. “I don’t suppose you heard them say anything while they were here about where they were going, did you?”

  The way station manager squinted some more, then finally said, “Come to think of it, I did hear the white hombre say somethin’ that sort of puzzled me, but it wasn’t about where they were headed. He mentioned somebody called Don del Oro.”

  “Gift of gold,” Luke translated. “I wonder what that was all about.”

  “Or maybe it was somebody’s name,” the man suggested again. “All I know is, I wouldn’t want to have those two lookin’ for me. That Don fella better have eyes in the back of his head if those two are after him. They was pure poison.”

  Luke couldn’t argue with that.
/>   The passengers climbed into the stagecoach and it rolled on. Luke knew from talking to Jim Pierce that it would stop for the night at another way station, then move on in the morning, crossing the Arizona border and arriving at Moss City around the middle of the day.

  As he rode alongside the coach, Luke asked the jehu, “Have you ever heard of somebody or something called Don del Oro?”

  Pierce thought about the question for a long moment, then shook his head. “Can’t say as I have. A lot of the fellas who own big ranches down in Mexico are called dons. Maybe it’s one of them.”

  Luke supposed that was possible. For some reason the phrase didn’t really sound to him like a man’s title and name, though.

  “What’s that about, Luke?” Hobie asked.

  “I was talking to the fella back at the way station. Kelly and Dog Eater were there three days ago. They said something about Don del Oro while they were watering their horses.”

  “Those are the bank-robbin’ varmints you’re after?” Pierce had talked to Luke and Hobie enough to know that they were tracking the two men who’d robbed the bank in Rio Rojo.

  “That’s right,” Luke said. “I was hoping to pick up a clue to their destination. I don’t know if Don del Oro is it, but I’ll have to keep it in mind.”

  Hobie didn’t say anything else. He was torn between wanting to continue on the quest that had brought him that far and his desire to help Jessica Wheeler safely reach her brother’s ranch in California.

  Luke suspected Hobie’s infatuation with Jessica would win that battle. That was fine. He had set out after Kelly and Dog Eater alone, and was perfectly willing to continue going after them alone. It was the way he had spent most of his time during the past decade and a half, after all.

  The afternoon passed without any trouble. The sun wasn’t far above the western horizon when the next way station appeared up ahead. The adobe building was a dark, squat shape in the sea of reddish gold light washing over the landscape.

  Luke rode ahead of the stagecoach and reached the station a few hundred yards ahead of it. As he reined in, two men came out of the building. One of them called, “That the stage from Harkerville comin’ up behind you?”