The Devil's Boneyard Read online

  “What?” He responded, not fully back from his thoughts.

  “Waco,” she repeated. “Waco and Walt Murphy, you’re going back there. Don’t tell me that wasn’t where your mind was.”

  “I’m sorry, Rachel, there’s something I’ve got to find out, or I ain’t ever gonna have any peace of mind.”

  She shook her head as if disgusted. “I guess there just ain’t no cure for what you’ve got. When are you leaving?”

  “Before long,” he said.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Are you sure you wanna do this?” Riley Best questioned Reuben again. “This feller you’re goin’ after ain’t no ordinary gunslinger. I can tell you that for a fact.” He patted his shoulder that was still in the healing stages even now. “Lester went to throw down on him first, but Savage beat him with time to spare to put a bullet in me, too, before I could pull my iron. I ain’t takin’ his part, I’m just sayin’ Lester drew first and Savage did what anybody would do. That’s all.” Looking at the somber face of the gray-haired man, he could guess that Reuben wasn’t hearing anything he was saying. “Reuben,” Riley pleaded. “I know you’re grievin’ the loss of Lester. I am, too. Lester was a good ol’ boy, and I was right sorry I couldn’t do nothin’ to keep him from gettin’ shot. It was just bad luck, that’s all there was to it. So why don’t we just call it that and don’t go lookin’ for more bad luck? You’ll have a full house here in no time. Things will be just like they was before Pete Russell and Ormond Hazzard led Ben Savage up here.”

  Reuben continued to clean and oil his Colt Peacemaker while Riley tried to persuade him to reconsider his plans. He didn’t utter so much as a grunt in response to Riley’s pleas until he had finished cleaning his gun, reloaded it, and slipped it back in the holster. Then he looked Riley square in the eye for a moment before turning to one of the two women sitting close by, listening to Riley’s plea. “Dora, honey, pour me a drink of that rye whiskey.” Turning back to Riley then, he said, “I heard every word you said and I know you’re afraid I’m gonna get myself killed. I ’preciate that, but the man took my son’s life. It don’t matter to me who drew first. He killed my boy, and he’s gotta pay for that.” He interrupted himself to take the glass of whiskey from Dora. “Thank you, honey.” Back to Riley then, he continued. “I tried to get one of you boys to gun Ben Savage down for Lester and me, but there wasn’t nobody interested in doin’ it. And I’m sorry for that now because I know it wasn’t nobody else’s responsibility to avenge my kin. It’s my responsibility to do it for Lester. I know what you’re thinkin’, but I ain’t as old as you think I am. And Ben Savage won’t be the first gunslinger I’ve come up against. I’ve made a few widows in my day and I’m still here to talk about it. So I’m goin’ to Buzzard’s Bluff, and that’s all there is to that. There may be snow on the roof, but that don’t mean there ain’t a fire in the stove,” he quoted. “Besides, it don’t take much strength to pull a trigger.”

  Paulene pulled her skirt up to wipe a tear from her eye with the hem of it. “That’s the sweetest story I ever heard, I swear.”

  Riley was distracted from Reuben’s lament for only a moment to give her a look of disbelief before returning his attention to the old man. Losing some of his patience with Reuben at this point, he said, “I ain’t sayin’ you ain’t able, Reuben. I just don’t think you’re considerin’ the fact that you ain’t as young as you used to be, and it’s been a long time since you’ve had to pull a trigger.”

  “You’ve had your say, and I ’preciate what you’re tryin’ to tell me,” Reuben said. “But I’ve made my peace with myself that that’s what I’ve got to do. So tomorrow mornin’ I’m headin’ outta here to Buzzard’s Bluff. And me and that saloon ranger are gonna settle this thing between us.” He watched Riley’s reaction and when he saw him slowly shaking his head, he asked, “Are you gonna try to stop me?”

  Riley shook his head again. “Nah, I ain’t gonna try to stop you. Hell, I’m goin’ with you.” He looked at Paulene. “You girls be all right here by yourselves for a couple, maybe three days?”

  “Yeah, we’re big girls, ain’t we, Dora? We’ll be all right,” she replied. “You go do what you need to do, then get yourselves back here. But ain’t you already had enough trouble with Ben Savage, Riley? You still ain’t healed up from the last time you crossed his path. Ain’t you afraid you might be shot on sight?”

  “There’s that chance, I reckon, but only if he sees me first. Ain’t nobody else in Buzzard’s Bluff that’s ever seen me, so I’ll try not let Ben Savage see me at all. Now, I reckon if we’re goin’ first thing in the mornin’, I expect I’d best go make sure my horse and tack is in good shape to ride.”

  Reuben left the room with him, still telling him he appreciated his support, but stressing the fact that he didn’t have to plan on calling Ben Savage out, himself. The women watched until they had left the room before Paulene expressed her thoughts about their plan. “If that Ben Savage is the rip-snortin’est gunslinger they say he is, this is the last we’ll see of Reuben and Riley. And if they don’t come back alive, we’ll turn this place into the hottest gol-danged whorehouse in Texas. Those cowpokes that go to the Reservation over in Waco will be comin’ to the church to get their religion.”

  * * *

  As they had declared, Reuben and Riley, with one packhorse, rode away from the church the next morning. After a good breakfast, prepared by his cook, Frances Wright, they set out for Buzzard’s Bluff. Dora and Paulene saw them off with wishes of good hunting and words of caution. Grateful for Riley’s accompaniment, Reuben was confident he was up to the task he had set for himself. Riley, on the other hand, was not sure he wasn’t crazy for returning to the town where the man lived who very nearly killed him. He was important for one reason right from the start of the mission, however, for Reuben had never been to Buzzard’s Bluff and didn’t know which road led to the town. Once they were on the road to Buzzard’s Bluff, however, Reuben said he was going to need some. 45 caliber cartridges for his Colt, Army single-action Peacemaker. Riley also carried a Colt, but it was configured to use .44 caliber cartridges, so he suggested that Reuben could buy his cartridges at Cletus Priest’s store, halfway between Waco and Buzzard’s Bluff. Riley’s suggestion surprised Reuben and he said as much. “Ain’t that the place you said you got shot?” When Riley shrugged, Reuben went on, “And that woman blasted Slim Dickens?”

  “That’s the place,” Riley admitted.

  “Ain’t you afraid they’d shoot you on sight?”

  “I don’t think they would,” Riley answered, although a little uncertain of it. “When me and Lester and Slim was there, we never had no quarrel with Priest or his wife. Our quarrel was with Ben Savage. Savage cut me and Lester down, and Slim was fixin’ to shoot him, but Priest’s wife unloaded her double-barrel shotgun on him before he got off a shot. I don’t fault the woman for doin’ it. Savage was most likely a friend of her and her husband’s. She most likely thought Slim was gonna kill her and her husband, too, after he was done with Savage. When they found out I wasn’t dead, they coulda finished me off, but they didn’t. The woman bandaged me up and Savage let me go.” He paused a moment while he recalled the situation. “He told me to stop and rest my horse before I rode him all the way back.”

  Reuben took a few moments to consider all Riley had said. “I reckon you could be right,” he finally allowed. “I need the cartridges and I druther get ’em before we get to Buzzard’s Bluff.” So they decided they would stop at Cletus’s store.

  * * *

  They sighted the rustic cabin sitting by a healthy creek, ten miles past the spot they had picked to rest their horses. “Best let me ride on ahead of you,” Reuben suggested, “just in case they see you and decide not to take no chances.” Not absolutely sure himself, Riley gave no argument and let Reuben lead the way up the path to the store.

  “Cletus, lookee yonder!” Jenny Priest called from the front window, where she had gone when she happened to
catch sight of two riders coming from the wagon road when she walked past.

  Responding to the excitement in her voice, Cletus walked over to the window beside her. He squinted to try to see who the riders were but didn’t recognize them. “Who is it?” he asked.

  “I don’t know who the feller in front is,” she answered, “but look at the one behind him. Ain’t that the feller that got shot in here, that I put a bandage on? It looks like him to me.”

  Cletus squinted harder to get a better look. “Blamed if you ain’t right. That is that feller! Ben Savage let him go, and now he’s showin’ up here again.” They exchanged worried expressions, both thinking Riley had returned to take his vengeance on them for the deaths of his two friends. “Well, they’ve come to the wrong place to even any score they think they got a right to,” Cletus said. “Grab that shotgun!” He went to the stockroom door and reached inside to get the Henry rifle propped up just inside the door. Then he joined his wife, who had already positioned herself behind the counter. With shotgun and rifle lying on the counter, aimed at the door, they awaited the arrival of the two visitors.

  So far, so good, Riley thought as they pulled up before the front steps and dismounted. Seeing no sign of anyone outside the store, they walked up the three steps to the porch and entered the store. They stopped dead still just inside the door, halted by the sight of the two weapons pointing at them. “Can I help you?” Cletus asked.

  Afraid to make a sudden move, both men stood frozen for what seemed a long silent moment before Reuben responded. “You always greet customers like this?”

  “Only the ones who brought trouble with ’em when they was here before,” Cletus answered, watching Riley closely.

  Noticing, Riley spoke up then. “We ain’t bringin’ no trouble this time. I ain’t forgot you doctored by shoulder and neck, ma’am,” he said to Jenny. “Reuben, here, needs some .45 cartridges, and I need some chawin’ tobacco if you’ve got any. I thought I owed you the business. Then we’ll be on our way.”

  The sincerity in his voice caused both Cletus and Jenny to hesitate. “Well, sure, I’d be glad to sell you some forty-fives, and I’ve got tobacco, too. How much do you need?” When Reuben replied that he could use two boxes, Cletus pulled his Henry off the counter and leaned it against the shelf behind him while he took the cartridges off the shelves above. Jenny aimed her shotgun away from them but left it on the counter as a deterrent in case they had any mischief in mind. After filling Riley’s request for chewing tobacco, Cletus took payment from each of them and saw fit to apologize. “Sorry we said howdy like we did, but when we saw it was you, we was afraid you’d come to blame me and Jenny for what happened here that time.”

  “No,” Reuben answered him. “Like Riley said, our quarrel ain’t with you folks. Our quarrel is with Ben Savage. He killed my son in your store.” His statement caused Cletus and Jenny both to become tense once more, until they picked up their purchases off the counter and headed for the door. “Good day to ya,” Reuben said upon leaving.

  Husband and wife remained stationed behind the counter until they heard the horses leaving, then they both hurried to the window to watch them out of sight. “Well, ain’t that somethin’?” Cletus asked. “Gave me a start when I saw ’em ridin’ up here.” He paused to think about it before remarking, “That was too bad that old feller’s son was killed, weren’t it? Wonder which one of them two that got killed was his son?”

  “Clabber,” Jenny spat, “don’t matter which one. They both deserved to get shot.”

  * * *

  Reuben and Riley continued along the road to Buzzard’s Bluff before making camp for the night at a wide stream that showed signs of many campers before them. They figured they would have about a twenty-five-mile ride to make Buzzard’s Bluff the next morning. As they took care of the horses, Reuben wondered aloud, “Reckon Dora and Paulene will be all right till we get back?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Riley replied. “Two tougher women ain’t ever been born.”

  “Less you ain’t countin’ that Priest woman back yonder at the store,” Reuben said.

  * * *

  Riley and Reuben were deep in their slumber about an hour past midnight, enjoying the night sounds of the crickets by the peaceful stream, while far behind them the three women at the church were sleeping as well. It was Dora who was first stirred from her bed by the smell of smoke that seemed to be coming in the windows from outside the building. She lay there for a little while, and when it didn’t seem to go away, she got up and went into Paulene’s room to awaken her. “What is it?” Paulene asked, trying to clear the sleep from her head.

  “Smoke,” Dora said. “I smell smoke. Something’s on fire somewhere.”

  “You sure?” Paulene asked, hoping Dora had been dreaming. Then she smelled the smoke as well. Before she could say anything else, she was startled by the sound of crashing glass in several windows out in the church area almost simultaneously. It was followed by the sound of horses loping around the building with yelling and pistol shots like those heard in an Indian raid. Dora screamed and Paulene jumped up from her bed. “They’re burnin’ the place down! We gotta get outta here!” She wrapped a blanket around her and handed one to Dora, who was too terrified to move. “Come on!” Paulene yelled at her. “We gotta get outside!”

  When they ran outside the room, they found great parts of the area converted to a saloon in flames and the shooting seemed to increase. They realized at once that the shots were aimed at the windows as the raiders rode around and around the church. Their attackers were trying to kill the occupants of the building. First thoughts of putting out the fire were soon abandoned when it became obvious that it was already too far along. The old building was going up like kindling. “If we don’t get outta here, we’re gonna burn up with it!” Dora cried in panic.

  The best exit left to them was out through the kitchen, so they plunged through the smoke-filled room to the small cubby between the kitchen and the back door where the cook, Frances Wright, slept. Dora opened the curtain that served as a door and found the terrified little woman curled up in a corner of the small room. “Frances!” Dora cried, “come on, we’ve got to get out of here!” She didn’t wait to make sure Frances was following and rushed to the back door behind Paulene.

  When Paulene opened the door, it created a draft that pulled a black plume of smoke out with the two terrified women, who stopped on the steps when one of the raiders pulled his horse to a stop before them. “Walt Murphy!” Paulene blurted. “You double-dealing double-crosser! What are you doing?”

  “Who else is in there?” Walt asked. “Where’s Reuben and Riley?”

  “Why don’t you go in there and look for them?” Paulene spat back at him.

  “Maybe I will, slut.” He raised his pistol and put a bullet in her breast. Dora screamed when she saw Paulene collapse on the steps. Terrified, she turned and tried to run back into the burning building. Another shot from the sheriff slammed the young girl between her shoulder blades and she went facedown on the kitchen floor at the feet of Frances Wright. The frail little woman, frightened speechless, backed into her room. Walt kicked the buckskin hard and galloped around the back corner of the building before some of his posse rounded the corner.

  The surprise assault on the outlaws’ hideout continued for only a short time when it soon became obvious that there was no opposition and anyone inside must surely have perished. The posse of eight, led by Sheriff Walt Murphy and his deputy, gathered at the back of the burning building to assess the results of their actions. Their main attention was naturally drawn to the body of the woman lying on the back steps. “This is just plain bad luck here,” Walt was quick to try to allay their feelings of guilt for having killed a woman. “She shoulda give up right at the start and she wouldn’ta got shot. We was all shootin’ into that buildin’. Ain’t no tellin’ whose shot was the one that kilt her, so it ain’t nobody’s fault. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought there was so
me shots comin’ outta there, too. Since I’m the one leadin’ this party, I’ll shoulder the blame for the woman’s accidental death.”

  “Ah, it weren’t your fault no more than any of the rest of us,” Bob Graham said. “Like you said, it was an accident. Shots was flyin’ everywhere. It’s a wonder we didn’t shoot one another. She didn’t have no business runnin’ with outlaws, anyway.”

  “She ain’t the only one,” Wayne Price announced. Standing closer to the steps, the deputy was peering through the open door when a draft sucked some of the smoke from the kitchen. “There’s another body layin’ just inside the door. I swear, Walt, it looks like another woman.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Walt was quick to exclaim, “that is sorry luck. Them poor women shoulda tried to come outta there with their hands up. None of us here woulda shot a woman, even if they was whores. What about that little space back of the kitchen where the cook sleeps? Can you see that far?”

  “I can’t see in it,” Wayne said, “but if there’s anybody in there, they ain’t alive. That whole space ain’t nothin’ but a ball of flames.”

  “Them poor women,” Walt repeated. “They shoulda got outta there. We’ll give ’em a decent burial.”

  The posse stood around for a while to watch the fire destroy the old church building, but it was obvious that it would be some time before it finished the job. “Looks like it’s gonna be a while before this is done,” Walt told them. “You’ve all responded to the town’s needs and you’ve done a good job. We won’t have to worry about a gang of outlaws holed up right outside our town no more. It’s awful late now, so I reckon you all wanna get back to your homes. Me and my deputy will stay here till daylight, so we can make sure there ain’t nobody else in there.” That seemed to be the choice for most of the posse. Two of them, feeling regret for the deaths of the two women, volunteered to dig a grave for them. They remained long enough to do that with a pick and shovel they found in the small barn, then they, too, returned to their homes.