A Frontier Christmas (12 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: A Frontier Christmas
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“That judge that sentenced us, Kirkpatrick, has come back to town to witness the hangin'. I heard Masters and Worley talkin' about it. He's stayin' in the hotel. We're goin' to pay him a visit.”
“We ain't got time for that,” Jacobs objected.
“Yeah, we do,” Jesse said. “We're goin' to take time for it.”
They grabbed the horses and moved through the alley, tying them off behind the hotel, then went inside the front. The lobby was dark, except for one kerosene lantern burning dimly on the desk. As the desk clerk snored loudly, they checked the registration book.
“He's in Two-Twelve,” Jesse whispered.
Taking the spare key to the room, the three men left the desk clerk undisturbed, and moved quickly and quietly up to the second floor. They walked down the carpeted hallway until they found the door. Slowly, Jesse unlocked the door, then pushed it open.
The steady, rhythmic breathing told them that the judge was sleeping soundly.
Jacobs took out his knife.
“Wait,” Jesse said. “I want him to know he's about to die.”
Jesse put on the judge's shoulder. “Wake up. Wake up.”
The judge snorted, then opened his eyes. “What is it? Who is there?”
“You don't recognize us?” Jesse asked. “You're the one that sentenced us to hang, and you don't even recognize us?”
“You!” the judge gasped.
Wally's knife flashed across Kirkpatrick's throat.
His eyes opened wide in shock, then he fell back down onto the pillow.
“Let's get out of here,” T. Bob said.
“Not yet,” Jesse said.
“What do you mean, not yet? What's left?”
“We're takin' him down to the gallows and we're goin' to hang him there.”
T. Bob frowned. “You mean carry him through the lobby?”
“No. We'll push him through the window and out into the alley.”
C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN
One of the carpenters who had built the gallows walked into Kathy's Diner during the breakfast hour. In a highly agitated state, he looked around till he spotted Marshal Worley. “Marshal, you'd better get down to the gallows fast.”
“What happened? Pete, don't tell me they collapsed during the night.”
“No sir, it ain't that. It's somethin' worse. It's somethin' much worse. You'd better get on down there, right now.”
“Kathy, I'll get you later,” Marshal Worley called as he followed Pete toward the front door.
“No problem, Marshal,” she called back.
The marshal hurried alongside Pete. “Now what is it, Pete?”
“You'll see.”
Even before they reached the jail, Worley saw scores of people gathered in the street in front of the building, but he couldn't see the gallows. They had been built in between the jailhouse and the blacksmith shop, which was next door. And the crowd was growing as more people started running toward the scene.
He quickened his gait. Arriving at the crowd, he started pushing the people aside. “Make way. Let me through!” he ordered.
When he got to where he could see the gallows he stopped, gasping in shock and anger. Two bodies were hanging from the gallows—his deputy, Jason Masters, and Judge Daniel Kirkpatrick.
 
 
The newspaper put out an EXTRA edition that hit the streets before nine o'clock.
PRISONERS ESCAPE JAIL
Shocking Scene on Main Street
This morning Judge Daniel Kirkpatrick and Deputy Jason Masters were found dead, suspended from the gallows that had been constructed for the legal execution of T. Bob and Jesse Cave.
After cutting the bodies down, Marshal Worley checked the jail, where he discovered that the cell door was open and the Cave brothers were missing. The two had been sentenced to hang for the brutal slaying of John Guthrie, as well as Mr. Guthrie's wife, son, and daughter.
It is the marshal's belief that the prisoners had assistance in escaping, as it seems quite unlikely they could have opened the jail cell door by themselves.
“Oh, my!” Cora said when the newspaper was delivered.
“What is it?” Meagan asked.
“Those men who murdered Nora Guthrie and her whole family have escaped. And not only that, they murdered poor Deputy Masters and Judge Kirkpatrick.”
“Oh, that is awful,” Meagan said.
“It's also frightening.”
“I see no reason to be frightened of them. It would extremely foolish of them to come back to Rawhide Buttes.”
Cora nodded. “Yes, now that you mention it, I think it would be foolish of them. I shan't let them spoil my Christmas.” She set the newspaper down. “Tell me, Meagan, do you think it is too early to decorate the store for Christmas?”
“No, I don't think it is too early at all,” Meagan said. “After all, Christmas is only a week away. Besides, I'll be going back in another day or two, so if I'm going to help with the decorations, we must get started right away.”
Sidewinder Gorge
Late that afternoon, Jacobs and the Cave brothers rode into the entrance of the gorge. Jacobs dismounted and stood with his arms extended out to each side for a moment. They saw a puff of smoke, followed by the sound of a gunshot.
“What the hell? They're shooting at us!” T. Bob hollered, frightened.
“Hold on,” Jacobs said.
Two more puffs of smoke were followed by two more gunshots.
“That's the signal,” Wally said as he remounted. “We can go in, now.”
Inside the canyon, Max Dingo sat at a table in the outlaw saloon. He was told that three riders were coming in.
“Who are they?” he asked.
“It's Wally and the Cave brothers,” Nitwit Mitt said.
“Good, good. He got 'em, I see. Bring 'em to me as soon they get here.”
 
 
Fifteen minutes later, the three men were standing in front of Dingo.
“Here they are,” Nitwit said.
“How much money do you two boys have?” Dingo asked, looking at Jesse and T. Bob.
“We don't have no money at all. We was in jail, and what money we did have was took from us,” Jesse said.
“I sort of thought as much,” Dingo replied. “Tell me, just how do you expect to pay for your time while you are here?”
“What do you mean, pay for our time while we're here? Who should we pay? And why should we have to pay to be here?” Jesse asked indignantly.
“Why, you should pay me, of course. And as to why, it's simple. As long as you are inside this canyon, you are safe. Nobody from the law knows about it, and even if they did know, they couldn't get in. You're as safe here as you would be inside a fort. Don't you think that's worth something?”
“Well, I—”
Dingo held up his hand to stop him. “Are you hungry? We got beans, ham, bread. You're welcome to any food we have as long as you are here.”
“Thanks!” Jesse grinned.
Dingo smirked. “That comes with the rent you'll be payin' for stayin' here.”
“Where are we s'posed to get the money that we're to pay you with?” T. Bob asked.
“Well, boys, I expect you'll get it the way ever'one else in here does. You'll find a job to do, you'll do it, then you'll give me one third of whatever you make.”
“One third?” Jesse exclaimed, spittle coming out with the shouted word.
Dingo turned and looked at Jacobs. “Wally, didn't you explain things to these boys?”
“I haven't had time to explain it all, yet. Anyway, I figured that more 'n likely, you'd do a better job of tellin' ' em how things work here.”
“How things work, yes indeed,” Dingo said. “Jesse, T. Bob, I have to tell you that I don't understand why you two are bellyachin' about this. If we hadn't arranged to break you out of jail, by now you'd both be crow bait.”
Jesse shrugged. “So what's next? Do we go out and look for something that will make some money for us?”
“You'll stay here, eating my beans and staying out of trouble, until I find something for you to do.”
“What if we don't want to stay here?” T. Bob asked. “What if we just moved on right now, and took our chances?”
“Where are you going to go? More to the point, how are you going to get there?” Dingo hadn't moved from the table.
“What do you mean, how are we goin' to get there? I reckon we'll just ride out on the same horses we rode in on,” T. Bob said.
“Not on my horses, you ain't.”
T. Bob was confused. “Your horses?”
“Tell me, boys, are those the same horses you was ridin' when you was caught?” Dingo asked.
Jesse thought a minute. “No, they're different from the ones we had.”
“Where did you get the horses?”
“They was out back of the jail when Wally broke us—” Jesse stopped and stared at Dingo for a long moment. “They're your horses, ain't they?”
Dingo smiled. “That's right. I told Wally that he could
borrow
them so you two would have some way to get here once you escaped. If you stay here, you'll be needin' a way to get around. Especially if you are going to find some way of making money for me.”
Jesse looked at T. Bob, then back to Dingo. “So what you're sayin' is, we can keep the horses, and we can stay here and eat the food, but we'll be workin' for you. Is that right?”
Dingo smiled broadly. “You're right, Wally. These boys is pretty smart, after all.”
Chugwater
It was beginning to show signs of the season. Volunteers were wrapping greenery and red ribbons around the lampposts, and the merchants were beginning to decorate their establishments. Only the R.W. Guthrie Building and Supply Company was not joining the other merchants. It was still draped in black bunting.
Duff rode into town to pick up the mail. Seeing a letter from Meagan, he smiled and took it with him over to Fiddlers' Green to read.
Biff greeted him heartily. “Duff, Rose made haggis, neeps, and tatties for lunch today. I can't stand the stuff, but I know you like it, so there's some back in the kitchen, keeping warm for you.”
“Ye do know, don't ye, Biff, that the only reason I call ye m' friend, is because you had the good sense to marry a Scottish lass?”
“So you tell me. Have a table in the back there. I'll bring your meal and a dram.”
As he waited for the meal, he opened and read Meagan's letter.
Dear Duff,
By now, I'm sure you have heard that Jesse and T. Bob Cave have escaped. In doing so, they murdered poor Deputy Masters and Judge Kirkwood. They hung the bodies on the very gallows from which they were scheduled to hang.
Marshal Worley says that he has contacted Sheriff Martin in Cheyenne, and Martin will raise a large body of deputies to go in pursuit, which means you will not have to. I hope that you don't, for I would worry about you. I have never known of anyone as evil as these men appear to be.
On a happier note, I am nearly finished with my task here, and Cora's store is all ready for Christmas. I shall be returning home in two more days, in time for the Christmas Eve dance.
      
Love,
      
Your Meagan
Biff brought the plate and the Scotch. “From Meagan?” he asked, indicating the letter.
“Aye.”
“Does she say when she'll be back?”
“Before Christmas, she says.”
“Are you plannin' on marryin' that girl?” Before Duff could reply, Biff held out his hand. “I know. It's none of my business. But I'm talkin' to you as a friend, not just your friend, but as a friend to both of you. I know you have strong feelings for her, and she's certainly made no secret of how she feels about you. So, if you don't plan on marryin' her, the only right thing to do is to let her know how things are.”
Duff was silent for a long moment, drumming his fingers on the table.
Biff cleared his throat. “I'm sorry if I made you angry, Duff, for that wasn't my intention. I just felt that—”
Duff held his hand up to stop Biff in mid-sentence. “Ye haven't made me angry, lad, for there is truth in what you say. But there is Skye.”
“Skye is dead, Duff.”
“Aye, but there is still so much of her in my heart that I dinnae know if it would be fair to Meagan.”
“Duff, Skye loved you. Do you think she wouldn't want you to be happy?”
“There is much to what you say,” Duff replied.
“You're damn right there is. Look, I know I just spoke out of turn, but it's like I said. You are a good friend. If you were my brother, I wouldn't be talking to you any different than I am now. I've got to get back to the bar. You just think about what I said.”
Duff nodded. “Aye. I'll think about it.” He watched Biff walk away, recalling Skye, in memories that were sweet . . . and painful.
Ian McGregor owned the White Horse Pub in Donuun in Argyllshire, Scotland. His daughter Skye was a buxom lass with long red hair, flashing blue eyes, and a friendly smile. She and Duff were soon to be married, their banns already posted on the church door.
“Skye, would you step outside with me for a moment?” Duff asked.
“Ian, best you keep an eye on them,” one of the customers said. “Else they'll be outside sparking.”
Skye blushed prettily as the others laughed at the jibe. Duff took her hand in his and walked outside with her.
“Only four more weeks until we are wed,” Skye said. “I can hardly wait.”
“No need to wait. We can go into Glasgow and be married on the morrow,” Duff suggested.
“Duff MacCallister, sure and m ' mother has waited my whole life to give me a fine church wedding now, and you would deny that to her?”
Duff chuckled. “Don't worry, Skye. There is no way in the world I would start my married life by getting on the bad side of my mother-in-law. If you want to wait, then I will wait with you.”
“What do you mean, you will wait with me?” Skye asked. “And what else would you be doing, Duff MacCallister? Would you be finding a willing young lass to wait with you?”
“I don't know such a willing lass,” Duff replied. “Do you? For truly, it would be an interesting experiment.”
“Oh, you!” Skye said, hitting Duff on the shoulder.
He laughed, then pulled Skye to him. “You are the only willing lass I want.”
“I should hope so.”
Duff bent down to kiss her waiting lips.
“I told you, Ian! Here they are, sparking in the dark!” a customer shouted.
With a good-natured laugh, Duff and Skye parted.
 
 
That was the sweet memory, but Duff couldn't have the sweet without the painful. Unbidden, that recollection sneaked in, as well.
Duff and Skye were halfway to the office of Sheriff Somerled when they saw him and three of his deputies coming toward them. Chief Deputy Rad Malcolm was one of the men with him.
“Sheriff,” Duff called. “I was coming to see you.”
“Shoot him!” Sheriff Somerled shouted.
“No, Sheriff!” Skye shouted, jumping between Duff and the sheriff.
The sheriff and all three deputies opened fire. The flame patterns of their pistols lit up the night. The sound of gunfire roared like thunder.
“Oh!” As Skye spun around toward Duff, he saw a growing spread of crimson on her chest. She fell to the road and, even as the sheriff and his deputies continued to shoot, he managed to pull her off the road and through the shrubbery.
“Skye!” Duff shouted, his voice racked with pain and horror at what he was seeing. “Skye!”
She lifted her hand to his face, put her fingers against his jaw, and smiled. “Och, 'twould have been such a lovely wedding.” She drew another gasping breath, then her arm fell and her head turned to one side. Her eyes, though still open, were already clouded with death.
“No!” Duff shouted. “No!”
 
 
Duff subsequently exacted a terrible revenge from those who had killed Skye, but that hadn't brought her back, and as he'd told Biff, the memory of her still burned in his heart. In truth, Meagan occupied just as much of his heart as did Skye. Would it be fair to Meagan to have to share him in such a way?
But Biff was right. Duff was going to have to make a decision soon. He was either going to have to commit to Meagan, or let her go.

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