Showdown Read online

  “You are a vile, disgusting man!” the woman said. “All of you. What have you done with my husband?”

  “He’s alive,” Brownie told her. “He begs right good.” Brownie laughed. “He’s more concerned with his own hide than with yours. He said we could have you if we’d just turn him loose.”

  “I don’t believe that!”

  “Then you don’t know your husband a-tall, lady. He’s been beggin’ and a-sobbin’ and a-carryin’ on like a baby.”

  “Fuller has never begged for anything in his life,” Mavis Ross said haughtily.

  “Teddy, you and Burke bring her husband over here and have him say to her face what he done tole us,” Brownie said.

  Mavis hissed her fear and loathing at the man.

  “That’ll be fun,” Teddy said. “Then he can watch us strip her down and have a poke at her.”

  “That’s the idea,” Brownie replied.

  Frank sighed, his breath steaming in the cold air. He could not wait any longer. The situation was getting out of hand. He didn’t think he had a chance of getting all the women free, but he sure had to try.

  Frank moved around to the front of the church and waited by the side of the steps. The door opened and Teddy and Burke stepped out, closing the door behind them. Frank waited until they had stepped down to ground level before he eared back the hammer on his .45. “You boys stand real still and I’ll let you live,” Frank told them softly. “Make any loud noises and you’ll both be dead before you hit the ground.”

  “Morgan?” Teddy asked.

  “That’s me. And you boys know I will kill you.”

  “We ain’t movin’ nothin’ but our mouths, Morgan. What do you want?”

  “You boys walk back up the steps. I’ll be a step behind you. You open the door when I tell you to. Understood?” They nodded their understanding. “And when you’re inside, you step to one side. You make a try for your guns and I’ll kill you first.”

  “You’re crazy, Morgan,” Burke said. “You can’t buffalo ever’body in that church. Somebody is gonna make a play for their guns, and if you shoot, this place will be surrounded by men in two minutes. . . or less.”

  “You’re already in trouble, Morgan,” Teddy said with a quiet laugh. “Yonder comes Sonny. Now what are you gonna do?”

  Frank cut his eyes. Sonny was walking toward the church, for a fact, carrying a lantern. “We’ll just wait for him, boys. This is either going to go real smooth, or it’s going to get real bloody real fast.”

  “I ain’t lookin’ to die, Morgan,” Burke said. “Keep that in mind.”

  “Whether you live or die is all up to you,” Frank told him.

  “I feel the same way about dyin’, Morgan,” Burke said.

  “Just stay cool and collected, boys.”

  Sonny walked up and before he could raise the lantern to see who it was on the steps, Frank shoved the muzzle of his .45 under the man’s chin.

  “Stand easy, Sonny,” Frank warned him. “And don’t make a sound.”

  “Morgan!” Sonny whispered. “You son of a bitch!”

  “We’re all going into the church, Sonny,” Frank said softly. “And if you behave, you’ll live. You get my meaning?”

  “I got it.”

  “Good. Move!”

  Sonny stepped up the steps, behind Teddy and Burke. When they reached the door, Burke whispered, “Openin’ the door, Morgan.”

  “Go ahead.”

  The outlaws pushed open the door and stepped in, Morgan crowding in close behind them. As Teddy and Burke moved to one side, Frank again stuck the muzzle of his pistol under Sonny’s chin and pulled him to one side.

  “What the hell?” Brownie said.

  “Shut up,” Frank told him. “Tell them, Sonny.”

  “You boys keep your hands away from your weapons,” Sonny said, a definite edge to his voice. “Do what Morgan tells you to do.”

  “And if we don’t?” Woolsey demanded.

  “Sonny dies and you boys never know who your contacts are in Boise and South Raven,” Frank said. “You get no ransom money. Think about it.”

  “If you take the rich folks out of here,” Davis said, “we get no money no way. Right?”

  “I’m taking the women,” Frank said. “And leaving the men. So your glass is still half full, or half empty. Depends on your point of view.”

  “I reckon that’s so,” Davis said. “Now what, Morgan?”

  “You boys shuck those guns. And do it real careful-like. Put them on the floor and back away from them. All of you get over there in the corner at the far end of the building.” He moved his head, indicating the corner. “Start moving, right now.”

  When the outlaws hesitated, Frank again eared back the hammer of his .45 and Sonny said, “Goddamnit, move, boys. Don’t do anything stupid or we’re all in trouble.”

  “He can’t take us all, Sonny,” Woolsey said.

  “He can take me,” Sonny said. “And I’m the only one who knows all the details about this kidnapping. If I die, you’re all leaving here broke as the day you were born.”

  The outlaws put their guns on the floor and slowly moved to the corner of the building. Frank still held Sonny under his gun. “You ladies,” Frank said. “Get into your coats and move over to the wall to my left. But stay clear of me. Don’t get between me and the outlaws. Move.”

  The women quickly obeyed.

  “You men get out of your winter coats,” Frank said. “Throw them into the center of the room. Do it!”

  “What the hell are you up to, Morgan,” Davis asked, tossing his coat on the floor.

  “Getting clear of here,” Frank said. “Without killing anyone else. You want to be the one who spoils my plan?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Davis blurted out quickly. “I just axed a question, that’s all I done.”

  “I answered it.”

  “Shut up, Davis,” Burke said. “For God’s sake, close your mouth.”

  “Some of you women pick up those coats,” Frank said. “Do it carefully. Rest of you gather up those pistols.”

  The heavy coats and pistols were quickly collected.

  “Now what, Morgan?” Sonny asked.

  “Strip,” Frank told the outlaws. “Peel it all off right down to your skin.”

  “What?” Woolsey demanded.

  Several of the women smiled.

  “Strip, damnit!” Frank said. “Right now. Boots and clothing in the center of the room.” He pushed Sonny a few feet away. “You too, big man. Do it.”

  Frank chanced a glance at a couple of the women. “You ladies get their boots and clothing. Bundle it up tight and secure it with their belts and galluses. Do it quickly, ladies.”

  The outlaws were soon naked and shivering, doing their best to cover their privates with their hands.

  “You son of a bitch!” Sonny cussed Frank. “I’ll cut your balls off for this.”

  “Yours have shriveled up to the size of peanuts,” Wilma Crawford told the leader of the outlaws.

  Sonny cussed her.

  “That’s enough,” Frank said. “You ladies, out the back door. Move it, ladies. Let’s get the hell gone from here.”

  Outside, Frank closed the door and paused for a few seconds, just long enough to say, “We’ve got about three or four minutes, ladies. At the most. Follow me and don’t say a word. Try not to break off any twigs or low-hanging branches. Let’s go.”

  Frank led the women into the timber, and they were well away from the old town before the shouting began. Frank led them first to the lean-to and let the women rest for a time.

  “Where are you taking us, Mr. Morgan?” Eudora Edmonds asked.

  “To where I have Colette hidden.”

  “She’s unhurt?”

  “Yes.”

  “Our husbands?” Nellie Vanderhoot asked. “What about them?”

  “After I get you to safety, I’ll go back and try to free them. But I can’t promise anything. I’ve got to be honest about
that.”

  “What you did for us was very brave, Mr. Morgan,” Ethel Steele said. “You risked your own life when you certainly didn’t have to. Not after the way we have behaved toward you. I shall see you are compensated quite handsomely.”

  Frank chuckled in the darkness.

  “Does that amuse you, Mr. Morgan?” Clovis Knox asked.

  “In a way, yes. I didn’t do this for money. I assure you, I have enough money to last me several lifetimes.”

  “Then the rumors about you and Mrs. Browning are true?”

  “I don’t know what all the rumors say, ma’am. But Vivian and I were married right after the War Between the States. Conrad is my son.”

  “I knew Vivian,” Nora Greene said. “Most of us here did. She was a fine woman, and Conrad is a very handsome young man.”

  “Then you came to rescue us because you are a United States marshal?” Margaret Harrison asked.

  “I guess so, ma’am.”

  “You still risked your life.”

  “I reckon so.” Frank stood up. “Come on, ladies. Let’s move out. We’ve got a ways to go before you can relax and get really warm.”

  * * *

  Frank sat before the fireplace drinking coffee and smoking. The women were sprawled all over the cabin, all of them sleeping very heavily. Marvella came over and sat down. She whispered, “You had the Good Lord with you this day, Frank Morgan.”

  “I reckon I did, Miss Marvella.”

  “But you ain’t got a chance in hell of gettin’ these ladies’ husbands free from them white trash and you know it, don’t you?”

  “I reckon that’s so. I ’spect time I get back to the town tomorrow, they’ll all be long gone to that old fort. And I don’t know where that is.”

  “I do.”

  Frank lifted his eyes and smiled at the old woman. “I had me a hunch you did.”

  “I’ll draw you a map. It’s on the north fork of the Boise River. Halfway ’tween the north fork and the middle fork.”

  “That’s a ways from South Raven.”

  “It is for a fact.”

  So Sonny is probably planning a double cross, Frank thought. He doesn’t have a man in South Raven. But he has one in Boise. And he’ll be the one to ride in and collect the money, and that will be the last any of the outlaws will ever see of him. Very cute.

  But there will be one person who’ll damn sure see you again, Sonny.

  Me!

  Twenty-one

  Frank left the cabin long before dawn to return to Freetown, young Bessie with him. His suspicions a few hours back proved correct. The town was devoid of human life. The outlaws had pulled out in a hurry, leaving behind many articles of clothing, food, and more importantly, a corral full of horses, the saddles in the old barn.

  “How come they left the horses, Mr. Frank?” Bessie asked.

  “Good question, Bessie. One guess is they didn’t want to be slowed down by herding them along. I’ll saddle up a horse for you. You ride back to your cabin and get the others. Let your grandmother ride on the way back here. Will you do that?”

  “Sure, I will.”

  “I’ll have the horses saddled up and ready to go by the time you get back. Don’t let the others tarry, Bessie.”

  “I won’t. I’ll make them hurry.”

  Moments after Bessie had ridden off, Frank was prowling the town. He found the outlaw called Jeff in the back room of a building. The man was drifting in and out of consciousness, and Frank did not believe he was long for this world. Frank squatted down beside the dying outlaw and spoke to him.

  “Is that you, Claude?” Jeff asked, his voice very weak.

  “No. It’s Frank Morgan.”

  “I can’t see you, Claude. My eyes has quit workin’ and my head is hurtin’ something awful. Can you get me somethin’ for the pain?”

  “I don’t have anything, Jeff. Where’d the others go?”

  “To the fort, Claude. They said they’d send a doctor back for me.”

  Sure they will, Frank thought. Right. “I won’t leave you, Jeff.”

  “You a good friend, Claude....” The man’s voice trailed off and he once more lapsed into unconsciousness.

  Frank left the man and went to saddle the horses. When he returned, Jeff was still unconscious and his breathing was very bad. Frank had doubts as to whether the man would ever wake up. He went outside to smoke a cigarette. The day was sunny and bright, the sky an impossible blue. It was cold, but with no wind, it was not really uncomfortable.

  “Claude!” Jeff cried out once.

  When Frank reached the man’s side, Jeff was dead; blood had leaked out of his nose and mouth, the flow of crimson ceasing when the man’s heart stopped. Frank covered the man with a blanket and closed and locked the door. The old building was as good a grave as the ground.

  Frank walked the town. The bodies of Cassius and the other Negro the outlaws had shot were gone. Frank had no idea what had happened to them, and a quick search failed to locate them. The outlaws might have hauled the bodies off into the timber or tossed them in the trash dump. Frank called off his search, and began gathering up what food the outlaws had left and filling saddlebags with the canned goods. He rolled the few blankets left behind and tied them behind the saddles. By the time he finished, Bessie was leading the women into the town.

  “We can’t stop to rest, ladies,” Frank told them. “We’ve got to make time. We’re burnin’ daylight and we’ve got a ways to go.”

  “Our husbands?” Mavis asked.

  “Gone.” He pulled Colette to one side and asked, “Did you tell Wilma about her husband?”

  “Yes. She wants to see his grave.”

  “We’ll be there tomorrow. It’s not that far from here. We can spend some time there and Wilma can pay her respects to Maxwell.”

  “They weren’t a very happy couple, Frank.”

  “So I heard from a friend of hers in town.”

  “Dr. Raven?”

  “Yes.”

  “I suspect she’ll return to this country after the estate is settled.”

  “Could be. Let’s ride.”

  * * *

  It was slow going on the trail, for several of the women had been beaten repeatedly, and were bruised and sore and had to stop and rest several times. They spent the night in the ghost town of Red Rock. Prowling around, the women found several old pots and kettles and heated water to wash up in, then set about making some semblance of supper out of the food the outlaws had left behind. They were all sound asleep just after dark. The next morning, Frank was the first one out of his blankets. He stoked up the fire and put on water for coffee, then slipped into his winter coat and stepped outside for an early morning smoke.

  He didn’t tarry with his cigarette, for the air was very cold. He was back into the warmth of the old home in a very few minutes, and poured a cup of coffee. He turned as Wilma Crawford walked into the room.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Crawford.”

  “Morning. Please call me Wilma, won’t you, Frank?”

  “If you would like that, certainly. Coffee?”

  “Please.” A cup of coffee in her hands, Wilma thanked him, then asked, “Did my husband die well, Frank.”

  “Yes, he did, Wilma. He conducted himself very well at the end.”

  “Mavis’s husband offered her in exchange for the beatings to stop.”

  “I heard that. You think it’s true?”

  “Oh, yes. I have no difficultly at all believing every word of it.”

  Frank shook his head at the deadly flatness of her tone; it was filled with disgust. “Mrs. Ross . . . Does she believe it?”

  “She’s maintaining a strong and stoic face, but yes, she believes it.”

  “Tough way to learn what her husband is made of.”

  “About half of these men are heirs, Frank. They didn’t personally earn their wealth, they inherited it.”

  “Their daddies gave it to them?”

  “Precisely. And they
have very skilled men working for them to insure they’ll make more money.”

  “While they play around.”

  “Yes. Don’t misunderstand what I say, Frank. These men are not stupid. They all have fine educations and they understand business. But they have so much money they don’t know what to do with it, and they have so much time on their hands.”

  “And they have never been tested as men.” It was not a question.

  “They’ve never been tested as human beings, Frank. Not in my opinion.”

  Frank smiled as his fingers were busy rolling another cigarette. He held it up. “You mind if I smoke?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Thanks. We need to be thinking of getting the others up if we want to make town today.”

  “In a little while. I enjoy talking with you.”

  “Strange that a lady of your standing would say that. I’m not very genteel, Wilma.”

  “You’re real, Frank. And I can’t tell you what a relief it is to speak with someone who knows what life is all about.”

  Frank smiled as he popped a match into flame. “I’d be lost in your city, Wilma.”

  Wilma ignored that comment and asked, “You’re going after the outlaws, Frank?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Alone?”

  “Probably. I’d rather have it that way really.”

  A noise in the other room put an end to the conversation. Wilma and Frank looked toward the archway as Nellie Vanderhoot walked into the room, her eyes still puffy from hours of deep sleep. “I must look a fright,” she said, running fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath and exclaimed, “Oh, my, is that coffee?”

  Wilma smiled at her friend and replied, “It is and it’s good and strong. I believe it’s called cowboy coffee, isn’t it, Frank?”

  “I reckon you could call it that. Most Westerners like their coffee strong. Some folks say you could float a horseshoe in it.”

  As she was pouring a cup for Nellie, Wilma said, “Frank says we’ll be back in South Raven today.”

  “A long hot bath and clean clothing,” Nellie said, taking the cup. “I do so look forward to that.”

  “And then the wait for our ... your husbands,” Wilma said, correcting herself. She sighed heavily.

  “I’m sorry, Wilma,” Nellie said after taking a sip of coffee. “I know you must be feeling your loss terribly. You’ve been so brave about it.”