Authors: The Lone Texan
Jodi Thomas (30 page)
Drum stopped swearing and began listening.
“I know you don’t believe it, but I tried to help the little doctor. I locked her in a cell at night so none of the men could get to her. I clubbed the man who bruised her face, just for the hell of it. But you should know she weren’t hurt none while she was in camp. I saw to that. The night of the auction, if I hadn’t tied her up to the rafter, the men would have pawed her and passed her around. I’ve seen it before.”
Drum didn’t buy a word the outlaw said. “You’re a talking dead man,” he whispered loud enough that the stranger heard.
Captain Harmon paced restlessly. “So, if you’re one of the count’s personal guards, what are you doing outside the hideout?”
“Hanover trusts me. He’s got my wife and son to ensure I come back.”
Drum stilled. Daniel removed his grip as they both listened. Neither of them liked the idea of a child being in the camp. They both knew firsthand what he’d face.
“The count’s got a fever. He thinks he’s dying. He’s so weak he’s messing himself like a baby. He’s got it in his head that the only one who can help him is the little doctor. I’m on my way to get her. If you kill me, he’ll just send someone else until he gets her back. To him, she’s his property.”
The captain raised an eyebrow. “Why are you telling us this?” The man was writing his own obituary.
Luther looked directly at Roak. “Your woman asked me to help her escape, and I didn’t. I was worried about my family first, and second, I didn’t think he’d mistreat her. I figured the worst he’d do was keep her in camp as the doctor, but I underestimated his hatred of women. She’d be dead today if you hadn’t come for her, and my wife’s not safe, even if I do what he tells me.”
“But you were heading to find Sage and drag her back,” Drum shouted.
“No.” Luther shook his head. “I was going to warn her to get as far away as she could. Then I planned to go back and tell the count I couldn’t find her. If I’m lucky, he’ll be dead or feeling better and deciding he doesn’t need the doctor. At worst, he’d still be crazy with pain and have me killed.” He looked straight at Drum. “I don’t care anymore. The only reason I’ve gone on as long as I have is for my wife and boy, but my boy is sickly, and my wife cries all the time.”
Drum almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.
Captain Harmon motioned for them to untie Luther, then he offered him a cup of coffee. The man would have been a fool to reach for a gun; a dozen bullets would hit him before he could clear leather.
“Do you know of a way into the hideout besides the slow ride through Skull Alley?”
Luther held the cup with both hands. “No. If I did, I’d bring my family out. That narrow canyon keeps everyone in line. I’ve seen a few men try to run it on horseback. They started at night and made it past the first checkpoint, but by daylight the second guard picked them off as easy as shooting fish in a bucket. One man who tried to make it traveling only on foot got lost and ended up coming right back to camp, where Hanover had him hanged.”
He looked up at Drum. “I’d given up any hope till you got out. You got the doctor out too, and neither of you crossed through Skull Alley.” He took a drink of coffee. “I know, ’cause I sat up there for three days waiting to shoot anything that moved in that canyon.”
Captain Harmon drew his attention back. “How’d you know the doc was back in Galveston?”
“We got a man there who sends word on anything he thinks the count might like to know. He sent a note that he’d keep her occupied until we got there.”
“How’d he know who Sage was?”
Luther shrugged. “He was at the robbery when Charlie and his men took her. He says he’s an almost relative, whatever the hell that is.”
The captain kept questioning Luther, but Drum had listened to enough. Bonnie had told him there was only one man who was in the room with Sage when the robbery happened: Shelley Lander.
When the captain took a break from questioning, Drum moved beside him. “Cap, I know who the spy in Galveston is.”
“So do I, a scum of a gambler named Lander.” He put his hand on Drum’s shoulder. “I also know what you’re thinking. Someone needs to warn Sage. When he sent the note, he must have not known that she’d be leaving with her brother. But if she told Shelley where she was headed, this count is just crazy enough to go after her.”
“I’m on my way,” Drum said.
Captain Harmon nodded, then added, “Take Daniel Torry with you. A hard ride with a hangover will do him good.”
Drum motioned to Daniel. “Saddle up. I’ll explain on the way.”
Daniel looked confused. “What about killing Luther? I don’t want to miss out on that.”
As much as he’d like to stay around and beat Luther to death, Drum knew he had to get to Sage before Shelley had time to send word of where she had gone. He’d find out they’d left for Austin, and from there someone would have probably noticed what direction they took. Drum doubted Travis would speak to Shelley, even if he rode all the way to Austin. Travis wasn’t friendly with his relatives on most days, much less someone else’s, but there were those who knew where the wagons were heading, and Shelley might luck out and talk to one of them.
Captain Harmon waved them off. “We’ll try to hold him long enough so he’ll be waiting when you get back. If I have any luck, he’ll be in the cell next to Lander.”
Like two wild kids dismissed from school, Roak and Daniel took off at a full gallop.
CHAPTER 31
A
NOVEMBER ICE STORM, WHICH HAD MELTED INTO miles of mud, slowed Drum’s progress.
NOVEMBER ICE STORM, WHICH HAD MELTED INTO miles of mud, slowed Drum’s progress.
He’d talked Daniel into riding north of Galveston in hopes of saving a few days, but they were almost three weeks behind Sage. The shortcut helped little.
Drum missed her in Austin by two weeks, as he figured he would. Travis talked them into staying one night. He wanted details about Luther. Drum could see it in his eyes; Travis was making his own list. He might wear a suit and look to all the world like a respected lawyer, but part of him was wild and always would be. Drum wouldn’t be surprised if Travis McMurray went after the man. He was probably thinking the same thing Drum was. One lone man could get in and out of the camp, leaving no sign behind, only one dead count.
After everyone went to bed, Drum walked the streets of the capital city. He couldn’t sleep without knowing Sage was safe, so he tried to picture asking her to live here with him. Austin was exciting, but he couldn’t see either of them being happy to ride their horses around a park. The stores were fun to look into, and there were more places to eat than he could name. He’d never thought about where they’d live or what he’d do to make a living; he’d just wanted to be with her.
When Drum turned Satan toward Elmo’s Trading Post the next morning, he was on familiar ground. He’d made the trip many times and knew where all the best roads were and where to stop for the night. Daniel stayed up with him at every turn. He even stopped drinking, claiming it was a waste of time to try to swallow at the speed they rode.
The winds blew from the north, and mud slowed them more than rain. Both had good mounts, but Drum knew not to push them too hard. Satan was a McMurray horse, one of the finest in the state. If he rode Satan to ground getting to Sage, she’d never forgive him. The woman was almost born on a horse and probably loved them far more than she’d ever care about any man.
When they stopped to rest the horses, Daniel slept, and Roak paced.
One afternoon, Daniel leaned up from his nap and said, “What’s bothering you? You know Sage is safe. They couldn’t have gotten to her yet. Even if the count sent another man after Luther, he couldn’t be traveling faster than we are. Something else is festering like a burr under your saddle.”
Drum squatted down beside Daniel. “It’s that boy of Luther Waddell’s. I can’t stop thinking about him there in the camp.”
Daniel sat up. “I didn’t see any kids while I was there. My guess is the women who have them keep them out of harm’s way. As many years as the hideout has been there, you know a few kids are there somewhere. I saw clothes on the lines near the little houses along the pasture line. Maybe that’s where the wives stay. There wouldn’t be many. The kind of man who lives that life picks his mates by the hour.”
Drum agreed, then added, “Do you think if I showed Luther the back way, he could go in and get them all out before the firing starts?”
“There’s a chance he’d turn on you and warn Hanover we were coming. Or, just as likely, one of the wives would tell her man and blow the plan.”
Drum nodded. “Maybe, but I don’t think so. He looked real sad when he talked about his family. Surely he’d know who to trust.”
Daniel stood. “We could ask the captain when we get back. I’m kind of hoping the count dies of the fever before then, but in camps like that, there is always someone else to take the big snake’s place.”
“Time to ride.”
Daniel stepped into the saddle. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
They crossed through open country and reached Elmo’s Trading Post by mid-afternoon the next day.
Daniel pulled his horse. “Holy smokes, Roak, I thought we’d be riding into a little cluster of buildings around a trading post, not a town.”
Roak stared. “I don’t know what happened. The place looks like it’s doubled.” There was a regular main street with stores and a church next to the bank. A block away was a dance hall and a couple of saloons as well as homes lined up in rows.
They walked their horses down the dirt street, noticing construction happening all around them.
“Folks are moving to Texas faster than sugar ants move into a molasses pantry.” Daniel pointed at a café. “You think we could stop for some food? I’ve been eating your cooking for so long, my teeth are thinking about falling out in protest.”
Drum shook his head. “Between you and Sage I’m starting to question my skills as a cook.”
“What skills?” Daniel grumbled.
He made no move to turn in at the café. “Come on. I want to see Sage before we eat. Then I’ll buy you the biggest steak we can find.”
Daniel took a deep draw on the air as they passed a bakery. “I figured that. How about we take her some hot rolls? Women like it if you bring them something.”
“Rolls?”
Daniel grinned. “Works better than flowers, I’m told. It would on me anyway.”
Roak pointed to an old building with a crooked porch wrapped around it. “I’ll check with Elmo, the old trading post owner. He’ll know if Sage is staying in town. I’ll meet you back here in five minutes. You get the rolls.”
Roak walked across the street as Daniel hurried into the bakery.
The trading post looked about the same as it always had. The area where Elmo stored mail was gone, replaced with shelves of dry goods. Roak stood in the doorway and watched an old man, withered on one side, move toward him.
“Can I help you, mister?” Elmo Anderson said with gravel in his voice.
“I hope so. I’m looking for Sage McMurray.”
Elmo glanced up and smiled. “Drummond Roak.” He let the name roll around in his mouth a little before he got it out. “It’s good to see you again. I hear some mighty fine things about you, son.”
Elmo had always been nice to Roak. He’d given him small hauling jobs when he was a kid.
“It’s good to see you too, old man. How’d you let this town get so big?”
“You sound just like Teagen McMurray.” Elmo shook his head. “I don’t know how it happened. Let a few people in, and before you know it, things get out of hand.” He laughed. “They want to name it after me. Can you imagine?”
“No offense, but Elmo don’t sound like much of a name for a town.”
He agreed. “And Anderson don’t sound like nothing special, so I’m thinking they should name it Anderson’s Glen.”
Drum frowned. “There’s no glen.”
“I know,” Elmo snickered, “but my mother was Irish, and I think she’d like the sound of it.”
“I agree. Now about Sage?” He asked before Elmo got started on something else.
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