.44 Caliber Man (4 page)

With the
attention taken from him, Temple let the team’s ribbons fall and
lunged across the seat. Grabbing hold of the shotgun’s butt, he
began to slide it from the boot and came to his feet. Continuing to
turn, he caught and raised the fore grip with his left hand.
Snuggling the butt against his shoulder, he looked along the twin
tubes at the horsemen.

Deciding that
the man with the Spencer posed the greatest threat, Temple gave him
priority. The Kid still faced the coach, dealing with Indio, and
April’s Derringer could not be relied upon against an enemy thirty
yards away. So Temple sighted on the bandido and sent nine .32
buckshot balls hissing his way. Through the puff of burned-powder
smoke Temple saw the Spencer’s barrel jerk upwards. He heard a
horse scream in pain and altered his aim to the second Mexican.
Startled by the bellow of the shotgun above them, the three team
horses moved restlessly. The coach rocked under Temple’s feet,
causing him to tilt the shotgun and his second barrel’s charge flew
harmlessly into the air.

Spreading out
after leaving the shotgun, the first cloud of balls reached their
target with inches separating them from each other. Two of the
balls caught the Mexican in the body, a third drove into the ribs
of his mount, while a fourth raked a bloody furrow across the rump
of another horse. Letting out a scream of pain, the wounded horse
reared on its hind legs. With his rifle pointing into the sky and
slipping from numb hands, the man slid backwards over his horse’s
rump. As he landed, the other injured animal kicked out. Its
iron-shod hoof grazed the top of the man’s head, then it went
bucking and leaping across the range.

Satisfied that
he need devote no further attention to Indio, the Kid swiveled
around. He cocked the Colt on the recoil as he started to turn and
made ready to deal with the last of the gang. Although he had shot
the half-breed from waist level, aiming by instinctive alignment,
he knew such tactics would no longer work. That kind of shooting
was only practicable at close range. The Kid would need to use the
Colt’s sights. So he brought up his left hand, gripping the right
as added support for the Dragoon’s four-pound-one ounce weight.

Raising the gun
shoulder high and at arms’ length, the Kid saw the result of
Temple’s intervention. That left only one of the gang to be dealt
with. Even if he did not make a fight, he would ride as fast as he
could to tell the Flores boys what had happened to Addn. The Kid
knew what would happen then. So he took the best aim he could
manage at the man, no easy matter with the horse made restless by
its companions, and fired. Through the swirl of powder smoke, the
Kid saw the man’s horse leap violently and its rider topple
sideways from the saddle.

After thrusting
Indio from the coach, Jeanie bounced to her feet. Her intention of
grabbing the Kid’s Winchester ended as she looked from the coach.
Born and raised in frontier Texas, Jeanie could evaluate a
dangerous situation and draw sensible conclusions. From all
appearances, the Kid would not need his rifle. There was something
else calling for more urgent attention. Jeanie felt herself the one
most suitable, with the Kid fully occupied, to deal with the
matter.

There might
only be a few bandidos present, but they were sure to belong to a
larger gang. So the coach had best be got moving pronto, headed for
Fort Sawyer, before the rest of the gang arrived. However, one of
the team horses had been killed and getting a replacement might
spell the difference between safety and death. Maybe the bandidos’
mounts were trained for the saddle, but one of them could be put
into harness in an emergency.

Seeing the
results of Temple’s shotgun blast, Jeanie knew she must act fast.
Not for the first time since starting her trip to Brownsville, she
found herself cursing the unfamiliar garments her mother insisted
that she wear. Grimly hitching up her skirt, showing her
high-button boots and bare legs to above knee level, she leapt from
the coach. On landing, she saw the Kid tumble the second Mexican to
the ground. Without sparing a moment to announce her intentions,
Jeanie sprinted by the Kid. So far the horses had not scattered and
she hoped to catch at least one of them before they took off
running.

Although he lay
without moving, the gang’s horse-holder had suffered no worse
injury than a graze across his ribs. Before reaching him, the Kid’s
bullet had punched a hole in his mount’s ear and caused it to rear.
That and the pain of the close-passing bullet had tumbled the man
from his saddle.

Realizing that
he was not seriously hurt, the bandido gave thought to escape. Even
as he tensed to make a sudden leap for the nearest horse, he saw
Jeanie running towards him. At first he could hardly believe his
luck, then guessed what she planned to do. Swiftly he revised his
plans. Instead of taking the risky way of trying to jump on to a
horse, he would let the girl come up and grab her. With her as a
hostage, the gringos would not risk shooting and have to let him
go.

In falling from
his horse, the revolver had dropped from the banding’s holster. He
could feel it beneath his body and cautiously moved his hand until
his fingers crept around its butt. Then he watched the girl coming
nearer and prepared to hurl himself at her the moment she was close
enough.

Shock numbed
Colin Farquharson as he watched Adàn Flores falling away from him.
For a moment he stood rigid, staring in fascinated horror at the
blood which oozed from the hole in the bandido’s temple. Then the
thunder of shots brought his attention to what was going on around
him. Turning, he watched the short fight rage its course. So
swiftly did everything happen that Colin hardly found time to
collect his startled wits. Seeing Jeanie spring from the coach and
dart by the Kid jolted Colin from his daze. To him it seemed that
the girl was flying in hysterical panic and running blindly into
danger.

The sight
spurred Colin into movement. Forgetting his revulsion at having
caused the death of another human being, he raced forward at an
angle which would bring him to the running girl. Even hindered by
her hitched-up skirt, Jeanie raised a fair turn of speed. In fact
she ran so fast that Colin only managed to catch up with her as she
drew near to the horses. Noting the nervousness exhibited by the
animals, Colin decided he must stop the girl before she ran among
them and was seriously hurt. Flinging himself through the air, he
wrapped his arms about Jeanie’s waist. A startled screech broke
from the girl as she felt herself caught, lifted from her feet and
borne to the ground. Feeling her struggles, Colin gently but firmly
pressed his torso on to her and held her down.

Guessing what
Jeanie had in mind, the Kid lowered his Dragoon. A quick look
around told him everything was in hand by the coach. Although a
touch pale, April still held the Derringer and seemed capable of
using it again should the need arise. Up on the box, Temple was
once more calming his team. So the Kid set off after the girl. He
saw Colin converging with Jeanie. Before the Kid could say or do
anything, the Scot had tackled her. A grin twisted the Kid’s lips
as he thought of what Jeanie would say when Colin released her.
Then he saw something which drove all the levity from him.

From his
position on the ground, the bandido had been unable to see Colin
until the Scot made his presence felt to Jeanie. Watching the man
and girl go down, the bandido let out a snarl. However, he started
to thrust himself up and saw the Kid running towards him. Maybe he
could take the strangely-dressed man and the girl hostage, but not
with Cabrito coming his way. Jerking up his revolver, the bandido
cut loose a fast shot in the Kid’s direction.

Flinging
himself aside, the Kid missed death by inches. He went down in a
rolling dive, landing on his stomach and throwing lead. Under the
circumstances there was no time for fancy, careful shooting. A man
could only get off his bullets as fast as possible in his enemy’s
general direction and hope that Ka-Dih
ⁱⁱⁱ
would look with favor on his
efforts.

Using the heel
of his left hand to strike back the Dragoon’s hammer, the Kid
fanned off three very fast shots. Luck, or Ka-Dih, was with him.
All three bullets hit their mark, ranging across from the bandido’s
right hip to the center of his left breast. Lifted almost on to his
feet by the impact of the bullets, the man threw his gun aside,
spun around and pitched forward on to his face.

The last
shooting, so close to them, proved the breaking point for the
already spooked horses. Rearing and plunging, they scattered and
went racing away. Although the Kid rose fast, he saw there would be
no hope of catching any of the fleeing animals. Even the one with
the buckshot wound was running at speed and showed no sign of
stopping.

Growling a
curse, the Kid looked at the two bandidos. A man could only trust
their kind after they were dead. By all appearances, the pair
before him classed as trustworthy. Then he turned his eyes to where
Jeanie’s legs were flailing wildly from under Colin’s body.

‘
Lemme go!’ she yelled in a muffled voice. Take your stinking
paws off me.’

‘
Best let her up afore she bites her way out through you,
friend,’ the Kid advised, walking to Colin’s side and returning the
Dragoon to its holster.

Kneeling up,
the Scot looked at the Kid. Jeanie wriggled on to her back. Up
until then she had thought that one of the bandidos was holding
her. Instead she found it was the damned dude in the skirt that had
brought her down. Glaring around, she saw the badly-needed horses
racing away.

‘
Get yourself offen me, you loco son-of-a-bitch!’ she spat
furiously. ‘What in hell game’re you pulling? We needed those
hosses!’

‘
Needed the ho—’ Colin began and rose hurriedly, bending to
offer her his hand. ‘But I thought that you—’

Instinctively
he knew that carrying on with his reason for stopping her would
only make matters worse.

‘
You thought I was what?’ Jeanie demanded, taking his hand and
letting him draw her erect. ‘Damn it, if you hadn’t stopped
me—’

‘
That pelados
^iv
there
would have,’ the Kid put in. ‘He was playing possum, gal, waiting
to grab you.’

Jeanie looked
at the body of the Kid’s victim and nodded. Put that way, she could
appreciate the danger so narrowly averted. However, she felt that
Colin’s motives sprang from a different, less complimentary reason.
Rubbing her right hip, she scowled at the Scot.

‘
You near on bust me in half,’ she complained. ‘And the
hosses’re gone.’

‘
I can’t tell you how sorry I am, miss,’ Colin
answered.

‘
Standing here whittle-whanging about it won’t help,’ Jeanie
sniffed. ‘I’ll go see if Lou Temple needs help with the
team.’

Watching the
girl stalk away, Colin sucked in a deep breath. Admiration mingled
with the worry lines on his face as he turned back to the Kid.

‘
Yon’s a brave wee lassie. Most girls I’ve known would be
screaming and swooning after what she’s been through.’

‘
Jeanie was born and raised out here,’ the Kid replied. ‘She
was fighting Indians when she was ten. This’s not the first time
she’s been in a shoot-out.’

‘
It’s my first time,’ Colin said. ‘I killed that
man.’

‘
He’d’ve done as much for you—’ the Kid began.

‘
What will the police say when they hear about it?’ Colin
interrupted.

‘
Davis’ stinking State Police don’t get out this way,’ the Kid
replied. ‘Most any other lawman out here’ll want to shake you by
the hand. Only, if you’ve any sense, you’ll not stop in Texas long
enough for them to do it.’

‘
I don’t understand you.’

‘
Feller you killed’s called Adàn Flores. His three brothers’re
going to come looking for you.’

‘
It was an accident,’ Colin protested, guessing what the Kid
meant by the cryptic words. ‘His pistol went off when I knocked it
up. I didn’t mean for it to happen—’

‘
That won’t make no never-mind to his brothers,’ warned the
Kid. ‘All they’ll know is that Aden’s dead and they’ll come gunning
for whoever did it. Can you handle a gun?’

‘
I’ve used a rifle and a shotgun since I was a lad. But I’m not
much of a hand with a pistol.’

‘
Best get that Spencer there unless you’ve a rifle along,’ the
Kid suggested. ‘If the rest of ’em’re around, you’ll need one.
How’re you with that knife you’re toting?’

‘
My dirk?’ Colin replied, touching the hilt of the knife
sheathed at his side. ‘I’ve been taught to use it. But surely if I
explained and—’

‘
They’ll not give you time to explain,’ the Kid growled. ‘I
know their kind. Do you want that rifle?’

‘
I’ve my own on the coach,’ Colin answered, impressed by the
seriousness with which the Kid spoke.

‘
Let’s go unpack it then,’ the young Texan ordered. ‘Sooner
we’re moving, the better for all of us.’

Raising no more
arguments, Colin walked at the Kid’s side towards the trail. Jeanie
was helping Temple to unhitch the dead horse and April leaned
against the side of the coach struggling to control the nausea
which welled inside her.

‘
Abel’s a goner, Kid,’ Temple said, straightening
up.

‘
We’ll load him on top and pull out as soon as you’ve give this
gent his rifle,’ the Kid replied. ‘Can those three crow-bait haul
the stage to Sawyer?’