Walkers Creek - A Western Read online

  'I don't understand,' he says, staying in his uncomfortable saddle while Humby dismounts.

  'Do you want me to spell it out for you? You lied to me this morning and then you have the cheek to come here with him,' she points at Humby, 'and rub my face in it.'

  'This morning?' Humby asks, looking at Logan with a raised eyebrow.

  'Shut up, I'm not talking to you,' she says.

  She looks attractive when she's angry. This might not be going as well as he'd hoped but he does seem to be doing slightly better than Humby.

  'Well?' she says, turning back to him, 'Do you have nothing to say for yourself?'

  'It's a little more complicated --'

  'Complicated? My life is complicated enough without needing to worry about your complications. You're just as bad as all the others. All of this has just been an elaborate ruse to spy on me hasn't it?'

  What can he say? He wants to explain all the details, the business with the dynamite in the cabin and the veiled threats from the sheriff but with Humby and Wilson standing there he can't go into all that. She's probably not in the mood to believe him anyway.

  'You misjudge me, Miss Nixon,' he says, floundering to find the words to placate her, 'the sheriff asked me --'

  'Don't bring him into this. You've gone too far now. I don't want to have anything more to do with you.'

  She turns on her heel and stomps back to the house. Humby follows meekly behind her.

  That stings. They'd got on so well before. More than a little of his reluctance to leave Walkers Creek sooner was the thought of not seeing her again. He thought he was finished with her when he heard that she was Humby's girl but now he knows he still thought he had a chance. To be greeted like this, well, it does kind of put a lid on it. He has to forget about her. Perhaps he should just turn his horse and ride away. It would take the others time to remount and give chase. But they would give chase. He could do with a bigger headstart than that. He ties his horse to the end of the hitching rail closest to the road out with the thought of making a quick exit if necessary.

  Wilson signals to him that they should follow Humby and Miss Nixon into the house.

  'I said I don't wish to discuss it Mr. Tanner. Stop following me about,' she says angrily.

  'Never mind him, he's a nobody, a guard, a trained animal. You should be more cheerful that the Mayor has come to make love to you.'

  'Oh, be quiet you pompous fool. I'm not impressed with your money or your status, and pretending to want to marry me isn't going to make me more likely to sell my ranch to you. Take a good look at it all, you'll never own it, not while I'm alive.'

  'I know you don't mean that. Why don't we sit down and take a drink together and talk it over.' With that Humby turns and ushers Wilson and Logan from the room.

  Wilson heads through one door. Seizing the opportunity to separate, Logan takes a different door.

  He hoped to choose a door that led outside, but his sense of direction has failed him and he finds himself in a corridor. So this isn't the escape from Wilson he was hoping for. If anything he's more trapped than ever.

  A girl steps out of one of the rooms carrying a basket with crumpled linen in it. She has backed out of the room and is carefully closing the door. She turns and notices Logan standing there in the corridor and lets out a little shriek, dropping the basket.

  'Sorry Miss, I didn't mean to startle you. Let me help you with that.'

  She scrabbles quickly at the basket, gathering back its contents. He notices that the linen is stained with blood.

  'What are you doing here.' She hisses. 'She said there would be no deputies in the house.'

  'You mean this?' he points at the little badge the Sheriff gave him. 'That's not what it looks like. I mean, I'm not a real deputy, or rather, I'm am a deputy but I'm not...'

  'I don't care. Just leave him alone. He hasn't done nothing that you can pin on him. Take me instead. Take me.' Tears stream down her cheeks.

  'Leave who alone?'

  He can make no sense of her replies. She's definitely frightened of something, and his deputy badge seems to have a lot to do with it.

  'You're not making any sense. You should take care where you go with those sheets. Humby is back there with Miss Nixon and there's a real deputy wandering about somewhere who might be a bit more interested in your story than I am.'

  She doesn't move from her crouch on the floor but continues to plead incoherently with him.

  'What's through there?' he asks, pointing at the door she has just closed.

  She sobs. He pushes past her and throws the door open.

  A figure lies sleeping in a bed tucked against the wall. A window opens onto the area behind the house where a handful of horses stand idly in a corral. He heads to the window, one hand resting on the holstered gun at his side. The sleeping figure groans but doesn't move.

  Logan stands by the side of the window looking out, keeping the bed in front of him. This feels like a trap. A man feigning sleep under a blanket with a gun concealed under there, he's seen that before. Is he really asleep? Why was the girl outside so anxious that he shouldn't see this? Does she know that this is a trap?

  The sleeping man coughs. Nervous, Logan draws his gun. There is a gasp from the doorway. The girl has followed him into the room and is standing there gaping at the weapon.

  'Don't shoot him, please.' She whispers.

  He points the gun at the floor but keeps it in his hand. He glances out of the window. It all looks so tranquil, the horses moving lazily in the hot sun.

  A fly buzzes slowly across the room. The girl is still watching him intently. Or rather, watching the gun.

  'Is he asleep?' He asks her. The answer seems obvious but he hopes to see from her reaction a clue, to see if this really is a trap.

  She nods. It's a slight movement, nothing more. A tear drips unnoticed from her cheek. She is still watching the gun.

  'Is he badly hurt?'

  She nods again, then a look of puzzlement comes across her face.

  'It's obvious.' He says, in answer to her unspoken question. 'He's asleep in the middle of the day, his sheets have blood on them.'

  She looks at the sheets in the basket still clutched to her.

  'Don't wake him.' She says.

  'I hope not to.'

  He glances out of the window again. Wilson! He throws himself back against the wall and out of sight. Cautiously he peers round and sees Wilson patrolling round the house. Gun drawn, he is pacing steadily round. That's a man who takes his job far too seriously. Or maybe he knows what happened to the missing deputy and that's why he's so nervous.

  'Who is he?' The girl asks, having moved slowly closer to the window to see what had caused Logan so much alarm.

  'A deputy.'

  'But you're a deputy too. Why are you hiding from him?'

  'I'm not really a deputy. And I could ask you the same question. You didn't seem too pleased to see my badge earlier.'

  'I thought you'd come to get him.'

  'He got hurt in some trouble that would interest a deputy did he? Never mind. It's not important. I've not come to get anyone. Nor has Wilson as far as I know. We're supposed to be protecting Humby.'

  'Not him again.' She says.

  'Again? Doesn't he normally bring deputies with him when he visits?'

  'He always used to come alone. But he hasn't been here for a long while.'

  Perhaps the missing deputy is making everyone nervous, Humby included. That would explain the unusual escort. Either that or the escort is a ruse to get him to give something away about the McLaren house. But then why bring him here? Does this injured man have anything to do with it?

  'Maybe you do need to tell me how he got hurt after all.'

  There's a groan from the bed and some movement.

  'He's waking up. Please, take your badge off before he sees it.'

  Her hands fidget, pulling at each other like fighting cats. In her eyes is the crazy anxiety he saw in the hallway. H
e steps away from her, worried by how unpredictable she seems. Keeping the gun aimed at the floor between them, he unhooks the badge with his other hand and tucks it in his shirt.

  He takes a glance out of the window. Wilson has rounded the corner and is out of sight.

  'Who are you?' asks the man in the bed. He coughs painfully.

  'I'm a friend of Miss Nixon's' he says, hoping it isn't too much of a lie.

  'Why are you here?' he gasps, his eyes streaming from the effort of the coughing.

  'Calm down Billy, it's going to be alright.' She rushes to kneel at his bedside and mops his brow. 'He don't mean us any harm. You don't do you, Mister?' she says, turning to Logan.

  'No Billy. I'm hoping I might even be able to help.' Weasel words. Lies to make him talk. He's not thinking of anyone's welfare but his own. Why should he care about this kid, and he does seem just a kid, suffering here in his bed, when only moments ago he was convinced the kid was going to shoot him from under his blanket.

  'I don't need no help.' Billy says, pushing his nurse to one side. 'And I certainly don't need no help from you, whoever you are.'

  Wilson appears again around the corner of the house. He seems to be walking circles round the building. Logan steps back from the window.

  'Right now there's a deputy patrolling round the outside of this house.' He pauses a moment to let the information sink in. 'Now why do you think he might be doing that?'

  'Dammit.' Billy struggles to wrestle free of the blankets. 'He won't get me, he mustn't get me. Where's my gun?'

  'He won't get you Billy,' Logan says calmly, 'because he doesn't seem to know that you're in here. So let's stay calm and quiet and try to keep it that way because I can see that you haven't got the strength to get as far as the door. Relax.'

  'Where's my gun? If any deputy comes in here I'll shoot him, I will.'

  'You've no need for a gun. There's no surer way of shortening your life than shooting at a deputy. Even if you kill him all sorts of hell will be raining down on you.'

  The look they both gave him made the bottom of his stomach drop out.

  'You damned fool kid.' He mutters shaking his head.

  'He shot me first.' Billy insists.

  'Don't make it any more right. Any judge is gonna think that he had reason to be shooting at you.' So that's why they were so scared. They both know that Billy has something to do with the missing deputy and they're terrified that another deputy is going to come along and dangle him from the end of a rope. He has a feeling that a judge wouldn't look too favorably on her either.

  Did the sheriff and Humby know that Billy was here and know about what happened to the other deputy? It would make some sense of why they had come here. Humby's romance as a smokescreen while they sought out the deputy's killer. But why not tell him what was going on? If that was the plan then they were clearly hoping in some way to link him and Billy and get their hangings advertised on the same bill posters.

  'You two need to keep quiet, and you need to think of some story that explains his wounds so that a doctor would believe you. Tell people he was gored by a bull, or fell onto a fence nail or something. Anything but a bullet.'

  They nod in unison, looking grateful for the advice. They're little more than children, both of them. No wonder they're so scared. If he can protect them maybe it'll keep his own head out of the noose. Maybe not, but at least if they ever try to pin the missing deputy on him, he knows where to find the real culprit.

  'Did you kill him? Will he be able to identify you?'

  'I think I got him.' Billy says quietly, sounding a little ashamed now, the pride and confidence evaporated.

  'Well, lets hope you did.'

  Wilson is making another circuit.

  It's taking him a while to get round the house. There's a stand of trees and bushes just beyond the corral. He could probably run that far before Wilson got back round again. Hell, he could probably walk that far. Would Humby or Emily see him go? He hopes they're too preoccupied to be looking. He pauses for a moment with distaste at the thought of her with another man but puts it out of his head.

  'That's the deputy making his patrol again. I don't want him to find me with you. You don't need to be attracting his attention like that.' More self-serving lies. 'I'm going to jump out of this window once he's out of sight and make a run for it. I want you,' he turns to the girl, 'to shut the window behind me as quietly as you can and then both of you keep out of sight until Humby and the deputy have gone. Do you understand me?'

  The kids both nod.

  He holsters the gun and raises the sash as smoothly as he can. It's big drop to the ground but he tries not to think about it and throws himself from the windowsill. He lands heavily and feels a sharp pain in his ankle.

  Tentatively he tries to walk on. It hurts, but his ankle still works. He sets off at a limping run towards the trees. Looking back he sees the girl closing the window sash and waving some sort of signal to him. Wilson is nowhere to be seen.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  'I still don't understand why you came here.' Emily says.

  'What more do you want me to say? Isn't it enough that I want you to marry me?' Humby persists in the same argument that has made him no progress for half an hour.

  'I know you don't really mean that. Let's cut the pretense. I have a ranch, a successful ranch, and you can't bear to see anyone other than you in Walkers Creek being successful. So you want the ranch. I'm not going to sell it to you and I'm not going to marry you. You're not going to get it.'

  She still has the rifle across her lap. She realizes that she wouldn't be able to use it if he rushed at her in that small room, but having it there as a barrier between them gives her some comfort. He gets up from his chair and starts striding about the room.

  'Your father was going to sell me the ranch.' He says.

  'Don't bring my father into this.'

  'No? Perhaps you've forgotten that he agreed that you and I should wed?'

  'That's nonsense and you know it. I loved my father and I won't have his memory sullied by your lies.' She is close to tears but determined that he shouldn't have the satisfaction of having made her cry.

  'Maybe we should ask your brother. I'm quite sure he remembers it.'

  'Leave him out of this too.'

  'No, really I think we should go and ask him. What do think he'd say? I've always got the impression he quite liked me, haven't you?'

  'You fooled yourself into thinking that I liked you. I wouldn't put too much store in your ability to judge people.'

  'I'm getting tired of this, Emily. I'm going to ask you once more to come with me.'

  'And then what? You'll get your henchmen to carry me into town. I don't see them here any more.'

  'They'll come when I call them.'

  'Really?' She has seen Logan making off through the trees. She chooses not to mention it.

  'You want me to call them now?' Humby heads over to the window to call out to the deputies.

  'So why now?' she tries to change the subject, hoping to deflect him. 'What makes you come here demanding my hand today when you haven't been near me for months?'

  'You want to know? Oh, I'm sure you know.' Humby has an angry fire in his eyes now. His hand is toying with the hem of his jacket.

  She knows he has a pistol under there. She shifts the rifle on her lap.

  'I'll tell you,' he says. 'You know I had a prospector looking at that valley. You know he found something. You flooded it anyway.'

  So that's it. The mining man is fired up by the idea of losing a possible money making opportunity.

  'What prospector? McLaren? He was working for you? Well that makes sense.'

  'Yes, inconvenient that someone should drop some dynamite down his chimney don't you think?'

  'Why do you care? It's on my land. You can't mine there. You shouldn't even have been poking about there.'

  'You really are a damned fool girl aren't you? The judge will happily sign your land over to me if
I can prove there's gold there. He's done it before. It's about jobs and prosperity. There's no space for sentiment. Walkers Creek hasn't become the success that it is with sentiment.'

  'You really do think you're above the law don't you? I'm surprised you even bother asking me to marry you. I'd have thought your friend the judge would just declare us married whether I wanted it or not.'

  'Don't think I haven't thought of that.'

  She swallows hard. She wants to take back those words she said. Why did she have to plant that idea in his head?

  'You know, the simplest solution,' he says, 'would be to get your brother to swear that your father consented to the marriage. You'd be bound by your father's promise then. You wouldn't want to break that now, would you?'

  She has the rifle pointing at him now.

  'Just get out of my house will you? I've heard enough of this. I've tried to be civil and all you can do is make insulting remarks about my father. Just get out.'

  He makes a move towards the door. She stands up and follows him with the rifle still pointing at him.

  'And don't think you can call on your friends to help. There are a lot more men here on my side than there are on yours.'

  Humby walks meekly towards the door.

  Now in a quick movement he's facing her, one hand on her throat and the rifle pointing stupidly at the wall. She tries to struggle but his grip tightens. She gasps for breath.

  'Now,' he says calmly, 'you're going to do as I say or I'll hurt you.'

  'You wouldn't dare,' she whispers, still defiant. He can't get away with this. Someone will help her.

  'Don't try me,' he hisses, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and jamming the butt hard into her ribs. The pain stiffens her up and she tries to cry out but the grip around her throat turns it into a gargle. She starts to find it hard to focus as she struggles for air and it all suddenly feels so hopeless. She cannot fight him, not like this. She has no weapon and he is so much stronger than her. She sags, defeated.

  'I want you to remember this moment,' he says, relaxing his grip a little. 'Remember how much in control I am, how much I control you. I could do anything I want to you now. Remember that. Anything. So when you get it into your damned fool head about how evil I am, just remember this moment.'