Sudden--At Bay (A Sudden Western #2) (11 page)

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Authors: Frederick H. Christian

Tags: #pulp fiction, #outlaws, #westerns, #piccadilly publishing, #frederick h christian, #oliver strange, #sudden, #old west fiction, #jim green

BOOK: Sudden--At Bay (A Sudden Western #2)
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We ain’t got to wait at all,’ he
whispered. ‘Hyar he comes now,
ridin’ down
the street.’

Chapter Ten

Sim Cotton on his palomino stallion
rode easily down the street. Chris Helm
rode beside him, his hands never far from the guns slung low
on his hips. Parris brought up the rear, his eyes flickering
nervously about, not quite meeting the half-curious,
half-apprehensive stares of the townspeople who watched in silence
as the Cottonwood men moved down the street. Sim Cotton could feel
the eyes upon him, and it pleased him to know that his appearance
with no more than a token force had created the impression he
desired. He felt it was symbolic of his strength. He did not need
to ride into his own town at the head of a gang, for that would
have indicated that he was unsure of himself, that this upstart kid
and the slow-spoken stranger were anything other than a minor
nuisance. He looked as if he had all the time, all the power he
needed.

Those watching could hardly have
known that time was Sim Cotton’s most potent enemy; that time
passing with the control of the town in doubt was like a cancer
gnawing at his vitals. Those awaiting his next move could scarcely
know that the loss of Norris and Rodgers had robbed him of two of
his top guns, or that the beating Art Cotton had taken had stripped
layers of pride from Sim Cotton himself, leaving nerves seared and
screaming for revenge. But he was in control. He rode down the
street like a king, tall and proud, a big man, virile and
confident. He reined his horse to a stop in front of the Oasis and
was about to dismount when a cold voice rasped ‘Don’t get
down.’

He settled back in his saddle. A small pulse started
to beat in his forehead, the slow measured beat of building rage;
but no trace of it appeared on his face.


I’ve ridden a long way,’ he said
mildly. ‘I’d like a drink.’


Drink someplace else,’ snapped
another voice. ‘Saloon’s shut —-to yu.’

Sim Cotton’s eyes moved to meet
those of the speaker, the bartender, Blass.


Well, Blass,’ he said, a touch of
iciness in his voice. ‘I hope yu’ve thought what yo’re doin’
though.’


First real thinkin’ I’ve done in
years,’ snapped Blass. ‘An’ the saloon’s still shut.’

Cotton shrugged, dismissing the bartender, and
returned his reptilian gaze to Green.


So yu came back,’ he said softly.
He surveyed the puncher from head to foot. ‘Yu don’t look good
enough to have beaten Art.’ His lip curled contemptuously. ‘Yu
don’t look much at all.’


Take another look at yore
brother,’ Green told him flatly. ‘O’ course, he might’a’ just fell
on his face.’ A cold smile lit his eyes for a moment. ‘Howdy, Helm.
Yore head better?’ He might have been asking an old-timer about his
rheumatism. Helm cursed and his hand moved, but Cotton stopped him
with a word.


No gunplay!’ he snapped. ‘I ain’t
come here to fight.’


Be interestin’ to know why yu did
come,’ suggested Green, but his voice lacked any sign of
interest.


Oh…’ Cotton pursed his lips. ‘A
talk. An exchange of views. An arrangement, maybe.’


Such as?’


Yo’re a good man, if yu licked
Art an’ sent Helm packin’. I can use good men. It’s that simple. I
thought we could discuss…’


Yu thought wrong!’ Sudden’s voice
was flat and final, and for a moment cold anger exhibited itself in
his mien. ‘Yu may be a big man, Cotton, but yo’re a long way off
the trail. Mebbe yu own a big ranch an’ run a hard crew, an’ mebbe
yu pay ’em well for doin’ what yu tell ’em to do. Mebbe that makes
a lot o’ people do things they don’t like doin’, but it don’t make
yu God, mister. Yore fat-faced sheriff aimed to have me Pecossed,
an’ I’m guessin’ yore man Helm wasn’t plannin’ on no picnic with
the kid, here, when he planned to ride along with him to Santa Fe.
Yo’re outside the fence, Cotton. Yu got to be put down like a wild
animal. No talk, no deal, no nothin’!’

Helm laughed into the chilled
silence. ‘He talks awful big for a man in such a tight. Look at
him! What’s he got to buck us with? A kid, a barkeep, a grocer an’
a cripple. Hell, I could take all of ’em with one hand tied
—–’


Yu want to try it
now?’

Sudden’s eyes had narrowed to slits
and he faced Helm squarely, his body falling into a menacing
half-crouch, his very stance instinct with a deadly menace that
sent a shiver into the veins of every man watching.

Helm laughed again. ‘Hell, I’ll
take yu any time I want to,

Green,’ he sneered. ‘But my way,
not yores.’


In the back, yu mean?’ was the
cutting reply.


Now, see here, Green interposed
Cotton, ‘I come here in good faith —–’


Yu came here to see what was
happenin’,’ jibed the puncher, ‘an’ now yu know what yo’re up
against. Yu don’t own this town any more, Cotton. We aim to stay
here until the U.S. Marshal arrives.’ This remark hit Sim Cotton
harder than anything said
so far. Was the
man bluffing, or had he really sent for the Federals?
If he had, then the game was getting out of hand.
Even Sim Cotton wasn’t big enough to tangle with the United States
Government —-not yet, anyway, he told his pride. Something of what
was passing through his mind must have communicated itself to the
saturnine figure on the porch of the Oasis, for Cotton saw that
Green was smiling–a wintry smile, but a smile
nonetheless.


That’s right, Cotton, yu better
think careful,’ Sudden warned the rancher. ‘Yu can’t buck a U.S.
Marshal.’


I can damned well buck yu,
though!’ Cotton’s mien changed. Blood darkened his visage, and the
veins stood out upon his throat and brow. ‘Yu better get out o’
this town. Yu better ride far an’ fast, because I’m comin’ back
here, an’ I’m takin’ this town. I’m takin’ it an’ if yo’re still
here I’m goin’ to hang yu in the street an’ leave yu there to rot,
yu an’ these snivellin’ backbiters who’ve sided with yu! Cottons
built this place an’ by the Eternal! Cottons can unbuild it! I’ll
burn down every house, every buildin’! I’ll line up every
snivellin’ cur in the place an’ shoot him down —- the man don’t
live that can cross me an’ tell the tale!’ Spittle flecked his
lips, and madness made his eyes roll white. The man was wild, far
gone out of reach, uncontrollable and murderous. Sudden snapped him
back with a cutting query.


Yu through?’

Cotton’s eyes cleared. He blinked
once or twice, as if unsure of where he was. Only the gloved hand,
closing and unclosing incessantly upon the saddle pommel, indicated
the struggle for control that the man was exercising. Cotton took a
deep breath.


No, Green,’ he said, his voice
still thick with rage, but quietly now and correspondingly more
threatening. ‘T’ain’t through—isn’t even begun yet. But I will. Yu
want war? Yu shall have it. The peace is over. Yu’ll die afore
sundown!’

He jerked the horse’s head around
and spurring the animal wickedly, thundered off up the street,
pursued by his foreman.

Harry Parris stood uncertainly in
the middle of the street, dust drifting down on him, looking after
Cotton and patently wondering what to do — whether to mount and
follow Cotton, or remain in the town.

He looked pleadingly at Green and the others. They
returned his gaze expressionlessly, then turned and walked into the
Oasis without a word. Parris stood there for a long time before he
shuffled off towards his cabin.

Blass watched him go through his window.


There goes a worried
hombre,’
he told the
silent group who stood by the bar.


Hell,’ said Billy with a nervous
laugh.
‘He’s
worried?’

Sudden smiled, feigning a confidence he was far from
feeling.


Wal,’ he drawled. ‘He had a
better job than we did.’ But their laughter had no heart in
it.

Chapter
Eleven

Cottontown had a still and empty
air. Most of the men in town, after the maniacal threats of Sim
Cotton, had taken Sudden’s advice and locked their womenfolk and
children securely in their homes. For perhaps an hour there had
been a tremendous bustle of activity on the curving street, but now
all was silent. Billy Hornby’s lip curled derisively as he surveyed
the deserted street. ‘This shore is a yaller-bellied town,’ he
sneered. ‘Damn if I know whether she’s worth fightin’
for.’


That ain’t why yo’re fightin’,’
Sudden reminded him. ‘Don’t go judgin’ these folks too hard. They
ain’t been pushed the way yu have; an’ none o’ them’s any kind o’
hand with a gun, I’d guess. I’m willin’ to bet most of ’em don’t
fire one from one month to the next. Yu can’t expect them to stick
their heads into this kind o’ fracas.’

A thin silence ensued, a weird, unnatural stillness
unbroken by the everyday sounds of children playing, women
gossiping in the street, horses and wagons passing outside. Over
the town hung an almost tangible apprehension, while men watched
from their doorways or through windows, their eyes fixed on the
road entering town from the north. To the north lay the Cotton
ranch. It was from the north they would come. Sudden had made his
plans. Now he deployed his forces.


Billy,’ he told the youngster. ‘I
want yu to sneak out mebbe half a mile from town along the trail
towards the Cotton spread. Take a water canteen. Stash yoreself in
the rocks someplace where yu can see the trail without bein’ seen.
As soon as yu spot riders comin’, duck out o’ sight. Let ’em pass,
yu hear? Don’t try to stop ’em, whatever yu do. Just let ’em come
in. When they’re
well past, pull yore gun
an’ fire her three time s in the air, fast. That’ll
be our warnin’ that they’re on their way
in.’

Billy’s expression was crestfallen.
Then it brightened.


Listen, Jim, why
don’t I take a rifle out with me? I could pick
’em
off afore they get into
town.’

Sudden looked at his young friend in mild
exasperation, then asked Doc Hight a question.


How many men can Sim Cotton raise
if he needs to?’

Hight considered for a moment, lips pursed.


Maybe fifteen, if you count Bucky
an’ Art,’ he replied.


Yu aimin’ to take on fifteen men
all by yoreself?’ Green asked
the boy. ‘Or
would yu ruther do it my way?’

Billy grinned. ‘Okay, okay. I was
just tryin’ to help.’


Then do what I tell yu. This
ain’t no game we’re playin’. Give
us the
warnin’. Then skedaddle back into town. That’ll give us a man in
back o’ them if we need one. Come in careful. Don’t take no
chances. Yu hear me?’

Billy nodded. ‘Watch
’em
go by. Fire three
shots. Then follow
’em
in, not too close, slow an’ careful. Hell, Jim, yu could train
a
monkey to do that.’


Then I’m pickin’ right,’ was the
smiling retort. ‘Git movin’.’

When the boy had gone, Sudden
turned to the remaining three
men and gave
them their dispositions. The bartender and storekeeper he told to
take up positions on the flat roof of the saloon behind the tall
false front.


Yu’ll be well hid,’ he told them.
‘Don’t show yore faces until the waltz begins. As soon as yu’ve
done shootin’ get down out o’ there. Once yo’re spotted, that’ll be
somewhere yu don’t want to stay.’ Blass and Davis nodded, and the
latter purposefully levered his Winchester.


By the Eternal!’ he growled. ‘I
hope they do start somethin’. I
shore owe
them boys a lick or two.’


Don’t be too eager,’ Sudden
counseled him. ‘Wait for me to
start the
ball. An’ yu, Doc: I want yu over in the Sheriff’s house.
Keep an eye on him, make shore he don’t give us no
trouble. If yu
got to, tap him one with
yore gun barrel.’


Where will you be, Jim?’ asked
the medico.


Me?’ said Green with mock
surprise. ‘Why, I’ll be over by the
jail,
mindin’ my own business.’


Yo’re goin’ to make yoreself the
bait?’ gasped Blass.


Yu might say that,’ Sudden told
him, his face sobering. ‘I’m relyin’ on yu boys to see I don’t get
hit.’


Yu reckon Sim is goin’ to rush
the town, Jim?’ asked Davis.


He never said,’ Sudden grinned.
‘But I reckon not. Cotton
knows he’s on the
wrong side o’ the law now. He got mighty edgy
when I mentioned the U.S. Marshal. If he thinks he might have
to explain what happened later on, he’s going to make it look as
right as he can. That don’t include no massacree.’


Was you serious about havin’ sent
for the Marshal, Jim?’

Hight said. ‘I don’t
recall…’


Just a bluff Sudden replied.
‘Like I said, Cotton’s on the wrong side o’ the law, an’ he might
just fall over an’ break his neck tryin’ to make it look like he’s
on the right side.’ He walked over to the window, and peered out
into the street.

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