Taggart (1959) (22 page)

He grabbed at her arm, and like a striking adder she stabbed at him with a knife
,
but he jerked away just in time. His face was still and hard, his eyes cold. "Al
l
right," he said. "I'll kill you for that."

Consuelo rode away from him and pulled up alongside Stark, who seemed not to notic
e
Shoyer. The gunman held his horse, and then abruptly he swung away from them an
d
started away across the hills. Grouped and silent, they watched him go, but nobod
y
called after him, nor spoke of him.

When he topped out on the rise, he drew rein and they saw him there, darkly ominou
s
against the red sun of the ending day. Miriam, staring at him, felt a shudder o
f
apprehension.

He was for a moment as if suspended there, as if he were part of the sunset, an
d
then he was gone and the horizon was empty.

Chapter
Thirteen.

S wante Taggart led the pack train into Globe with his Winchester across the saddl
e
in front of him. He sat straight i
n
the saddle, with his hat pulled down and his moccasined feet thrust into the stirrups.

The horse he rode was beat, and even the Missouri hardtails were walking with head
s
low, slogging it along the trail into town.

Miriam rode behind him, carrying her own rifle and followed by the mules. Bringin
g
up the rear were Consuelo and Adam Stark.

The town of Globe was a huddle of shacks and tents on the east bank of Pinal Creek
,
an isolated town whose isolation was its own protection. Every citizen had at leas
t
one gun within reach at any given moment. They expected an Apache attack at any time.

Freighters brought wagon trains in from Silver City at intervals, and there was som
e
communication with Tucson and Prescott.

The arrival of battered and bloody pack trains or freight wagons was not an unusua
l
sight in Globe during those first years of its rugged life, and only a few citizen
s
turned to look at the pack train that headed for the Wells Fargo office. Those fe
w
were seasoned mining men who knew a thing or two about pack trains and the comparativ
e
weight of various packs. These were obviously heavy, and heavy packs usually mean
t
gold.

Leaving both girls and Stark himself sitting guard over the gold, Taggart pushe
d
open the door of the nearest saloon. He stepped into the room, a tall, unshaven figur
e
with a bloody bandage on his left arm and a rifle in his right hand. At the bar h
e
asked the bartender, "Where's the Wells Fargo man?"

The bartender, a bald-pated man with red cheeks and a thick mustache, jerked hi
s
head toward a man down the bar. Then he called out, "Joe! Gent askin' for Wells Fargo!"

All heads turned, measuring Taggart with cool eyes. Joe was a short, squarely buil
t
man with a square, competent face. "What can I do for you?"

"Deposit," Taggart said.

They walked out together, and one man followed them to the door. At a comment ove
r
his shoulder, several others congregated to watch the mules unloaded, then drifte
d
across the street to see what went on.

Taggart was standing on the stoop of the express office and he stopped them at mid-road.

"Hold it!" he said. "No offense, but this is private business."

"What you got in those sacks?"

"Lay-overs to catch meddlers," Taggart said, using an answer he remembered from hi
s
grandmother.

"Is that gold?"

"Snakes," he said, "and Apache heads. We skinned our snakes back up the line a ways
,
and any of you boys hitting the trail tomorrow may find trouble around. I don't thin
k
we were friendly enough."

One by one the sacks were carried inside while Taggart stood on guard. Slowly, th
e
spectators drifted back into the saloon, where all news eventually was passed out.

The agent would be back in a little while and then they would know what was in thos
e
sacks. He'd tell them ... he was a man who loved a good story.

Only it didn't work out that way. When the last of the gold was measured out an
d
sacked up again, and receipts given for it, Joe hurried to close up. As he starte
d
to walk back toward the saloon Taggart dropped a rifle barrel across in front o
f
him and Adam Stark smiled and said, "Not tonight. Tonight you're our guest."

"But I've got a bottle over there!" Joe said.

"You stick with us. You'll have all you can drink, on us." Protesting, he was ushere
d
across the street and into a shac
k
that advertised BEDS. Stark promptly bought out the house. Then he sent out for
a
few bottles and, handing a bottle to Joe, he said, "You wanted to drink, go ahea
d
and get drunk, get stone drunk, dead drunk. But if you try to leave this place befor
e
stage time tomorrow you'll be able to feed yourself through the hole in the othe
r
side of your head."

"Now look here!" Joe objected. "I-!!" "Drink," Stark replied.

They sat out the night, the two girls dozing in chairs near the wall, Taggart an
d
Stark trading places on watch. At daylight Taggart stood on the stoop and watche
d
the pale light find its way down the gray street and along the shabby, wind-wor
n
buildings. There was no sign of Pete Shoyer.

Miriam came out to join him. "You think he'll come back?" she said, reading his thoughts.

"He'll come."

"What time is the stage due?"

"Shortly after ten, and we'll ride out with it. You two inside, Stark and I alongside.

He can sell the mules, they're at a premium here."

"And then?" "Tucson. "

Miriam was silent. And after that? Swante Taggart was not speaking of the after time
,
for he did not know. No man knew what would happen then. He seemed so sure, so confident
,
but she knew what a bullet might do.

Most skilled gunfighters avoided each other, she knew that. There were occasiona
l
meetings between them, but they preferred to avoid trouble ... there was too muc
h
of a chance that both men would be killed.

Somewhere a door banged shut and a windlass began to creak. A rooster crowed, an
d
then there was silence. A dog trotted into the dusty street and lay down to roll.

"A man comes a long way," Taggart said, "to get where I am now. "

"Shoyer is a dangerous man."

It was not that I was thinking of." He paused. "I wa
s
thinking of you. You're a lot of woman, Miriam, the kind a man woul
d
want."

"A girl waits a long time, too."

A lone horseman rode down the street and dismounted in front of the saloon. He wa
s
a stranger.

He went up on the stoop and banged on the saloon door, but there was no response.

Turning, he saw the two in front of the sign that said BEDS. "Where can a man ge
t
a bite to eat?" he yelled. "I'm hongry!"

Taggart pointed with the Winchester at the squat little building with glass in it
s
one window. It was no more than sixty feet away, but the man swung into his saddl
e
to ride the distance.

"Adam is grateful to you," Miriam said. "Without you we would never have gotten through."

"Without me you might never have had any trouble. I brought trouble to you."

"No." The strange rider had interrupted their conversation and Miriam wanted to ge
t
back on the right trail with Taggart, but she was not sure how to do it. She ha
d
always been outspoken with men, more direct than a woman should be, but now she coul
d
find no words, she could just look at him foolishly, feeling very young and suddenl
y
awkward. She must look a sight. How could any man be romantic with a girl who looke
d
as she must look?

Adam Stark came to the door, followed by Consuelo. Somehow the Mexican girl had contrive
d
to make herself look lovely, and Miriam stared at her enviously, wondering how sh
e
could do it so easily.

"He's out cold." Stark jerked his head toward the express agent inside. "I say w
e
load up the stage and take it out ourselves."

"There'll be a driver."

"We'll need him. I won't feel safe until this stuff is on deposit in Tucson."

Wells Fargo are responsible right now.

"Anyway, we're making sure." Stark glanced quickly at Taggart. "You're with me, aren'
t
you?"

"As far as Tucson? Yes."

He was going on then. Miriam tried not to show her feelings. He was going to leave,
. A
fte
r
all this. After all what? There had been nothing between them ... neither of the
m
had said much, only back there in the night they had talked a bit, but what did tha
t
matter? What did it really matter?

But the thought of Swante Taggart troubled her. What kind of a life was this fo
r
anyone? Eating no regular meals, sleeping anywhere at all, nobody to do for him.

Like that arm ... blood all over it and the flesh cut deep by a bullet, and he ha
d
said nothing about it until she found him bandaging it himself.

A few people were moving around now. They left the BEDS and strolled across to th
e
eating house, and while Adam and Consuelo ate, Taggart stood outside with Miriam.

"Always wanted a place with a few cows," he said. "Life like that is mighty lonely."

"I suppose so."

"A man has to live on his grass. Mostly it's far from anywhere ... no near neighbors
,
nobody to talk to. It's a wonder a man like that ever finds him a woman."

"If a woman loved a man she would live anywhere, anywhere at all."

"A man who loves a woman wants to give her things. He wants to pretty her up ...
d
resses and such things. A man on a ranch may not make much for three, four years.

Maybe longer. He doesn't have much to offer."

He stared gloomily across the street. "Best thing a man can do is keep traveling.

Keeps him from getting ideas. A man settles down he stagnates, he dries up, lose
s
all his get-up-an
d
go. Stark and Consuelo came out of the restaurant. The othe
r
two started in, but Consuelo stopped Miriam. "I was a fool," she said. "I am sorry."

"We're all fools part of the time. Some of us most of th
e
time. Men just as much as women, and some of them are as stubborn as any mule-heade
d
bronc."

Taggart started in the door, then flushing, he stepped back and held the door ope
n
for her.

There were three tables covered with a kind of slick cloth that Taggart had not see
n
before, and a waiter in a smeared apron crossed to take their order. "Ain't see
n
a egg this week," he said, "not until this morning. I got three left."

"Mr. Taggart will have them. I will have whatever else you have. "

"I got meat. I got beef meat, deer meat, hog meat, and some mountain sheep meat.

I can recommend any of it."

"Take the horns off a sheep and bring him in," Taggart suggested, "and you scrambl
e
those eggs and split them two ways. Miss Stark will have half of them."

The waiter stared owlishly from one to the other. "Now listen to that! You two ar
e
sure formal with each other. What you think this is, Boston?"