Black Ransom (12 page)

NINE

THE FIVE YEARS
passed, and against what seemed insurmountable odds, Ehron Lee survived his imprisonment at Rockmound. Perhaps in some respects he was more dead than alive, but he
had
lived through his half-decade term. Physically he would recover from the bouts of abuse thrust upon him by the sadistic guards and those injuries incurred from his long years of labor.

Mentally and emotionally, though, he possessed deeper wounds, scars that would never heal.

His cell mates were men of sinister character, individuals whom a man of Ehron Lee's former gentle nature would never have acknowledged let alone form a friendship with. But under their shared circumstances, they had become his closest companions. While he would never express it, Ehron Lee could inwardly admit that the strange physically and psychologically afflicted Woody Milo and, particularly, the brutish Ward Crawford had helped him to endure those terrible years.

He could go further. They had become his blood brothers.

Throughout that period he never spoke of his wife, and neither was a mention made of her by either Ward or Woody.

Ward was as eager for Ehron Lee's release as was his cell mate himself. Five years of being locked up together had given the two men time to come up with a plan. What had begun as idle conversation to pass the time had gradually developed into a plan of some promise. Ward scolded himself for taking so long to come up with an idea that had been so simple, so obvious. He and Ehron Lee had been thinking much too broadly, and elaborately, for him to finally realize that the answer had been in their sight all along.

It was risky, uncertain, but Ward had thought out the details carefully . . . and besides, the way he figured it, whether the plan met with success or failure, he had nothing to lose. He didn't intend to leave Rockmound an old, beaten man.

Through grit and determination, he had managed to survive the first long years of his sentence.

There was no way he would serve out the years remaining—no matter what the cost.

The plan's success depended mostly on Ehron Lee. He would take much of the risk, and if all went well, Ward would return the favor. But Ward did not really look upon it as a favor, as he shared the same hatred and sought the same personal vengeance against the two men of power and distinction:

Judge Charles Hugh Harrison and Prison Superintendent George Watson.

Ehron Lee recognized that he would need a partner for what he was aiming to do, and while he admittedly wasn't sure whether he could altogether trust Ward, the man possessed those hardened, fearless qualities that would be useful in such an undertaking.

But before any such plan could be put into effect, there remained one obstacle: Ward first had to break out of Rockmound.

* * *

On a Friday midafternoon, Ehron Lee said good-bye to his cell mates. He shook hands with Ward and silently confirmed his commitment with a direct look into his eyes and a slight nod.

To Woody, he merely said “Adios” and wished him well. Woody seemed to be holding back his emotions at watching Ehron Lee depart. Even though his relationship with Ward had improved over the years and had become more teasing than contentious, Woody would rather it have been Ward who was leaving the prison that afternoon.

He knew nothing about the escape his cell mates had plotted. He could never be in on it, and once the plan took on serious overtones, Ward suggested to Ehron Lee that they keep their conversations private and confidential, speaking only when allowed during work detail and when they were alone in the cell, when Woody was elsewhere doing his chores.

As Ward sensibly explained it, “Wouldn't take much to break Whitey and get him to talkin'.”

Ehron Lee left the gates of the prison, riding on the back of an open horse-drawn wagon heading toward the town of Allensfield, which was as far as the driver would take him. Once he arrived, he took part of the meager funds he had earned for his five years of labor and bought himself some durable ranch-style clothing at the local haberdashery. With merely a passing interest, he made a subtle inquiry about George Watson, mentioning to the tailor that he'd had a past acquaintanceship with the man and had heard he was the superintendent at Rockmound. As the conversation progressed, Ehron Lee discovered where the house was. The house was mainly occupied by Watson's wife, Janette. This was information he filed away for later.

He then purchased a stagecoach ticket to Colbert City. Ward Crawford had “friends” who had a hideout near there, and Ehron Lee was told by his cell mate where to find them and to introduce himself as a friend of his.

At first, Ehron Lee had been doubtful.

“You sure they're still there?” he'd asked. “That was over five years ago. Don't wanta go trekkin' on a wild goose chase.”

“Don't worry 'bout findin' 'em,” Ward assured him. “That's where they set up housekeepin'. Hideout's as secure as gold so that's where they always ride back to. And if they ain't around . . . if they're off somewhere gettin' into mischief, there's always someone who is there.” He didn't elaborate, just tossed Ehron Lee a wink. “Guarantee it.”

As Ward told it, these men owed him a favor. They had got lucky and managed to shoot themselves free of capture following the bank holdup for which Ward was arrested, and during which the deputy marshal had been killed. Even with a promise of leniency, Ward stuck to the “outlaw code” and had refused to name his accomplices.

Ward felt confident he could count on them.

Yet when this aspect of the plan was discussed between them some months before, Ehron Lee wasn't as certain. He told Ward frankly, “I've given up trustin' people. Even those you'd swear would never betray yuh.”

Ward merely smiled at his cynicism.

“Maybe,” he said. “The difference is these boys know that if they don't come through for me, I might suddenly decide to spill my guts. And if they start showin' some doubt, Burrows, don't forget to remind 'em of that.”

And when Ehron Lee met the bunch at a small ranch many miles south of Colbert City, he initially encountered resistance and
did
have to remind them of the debt Ward was owed.

* * *

Jess Colfax and Randy Boggs were two of the meanest-looking hombres Ehron Lee had ever encountered. The third, Brad Riley, was a youngster who had a clean-scrubbed, boyish face, which he tried to mature by screwing up his features into a perpetual mean expression. They were living with and were cared for by a girl named Cora, who was Brad Riley's sister and who, Ehron Lee quickly determined, had been romantically involved with Ward Crawford. Cora was attractive yet had a tough, hard-bitten edge about her, sporting a short tomboyish hairstyle and dressed in a checked flannel work shirt and loose-fitting faded blue jeans. Ehron Lee had no difficulty recognizing that she was the type of gal Ward would be drawn to. She was more cordial to Ehron Lee than any of the men were and instantly peppered him with questions about how Ward was getting along.

Ehron Lee could comprehend the concern and maybe even love that Cora had for Ward, but at the same time he was puzzled about their relationship, as during the five years they had spent together in prison, sharing almost everything with each other, Ward had never once mentioned the girl.

Yet maybe indirectly he had, when he'd told Ehron Lee that he'd always find
someone
at the ranch.

The “ranch,” such as it was, was little more than a cabin and a small spread of property, virtually hidden in the foothills of an ominous dark-crested rocky mountain range known as Brimstone Canyon, a desolate area west of Border Pass through which few travelers dared venture. It was rumored that the Chiricahua roamed the southern region of these mountains.

From Hell's Doorway to Brimstone Canyon
. Ehron Lee chuckled inwardly as he considered the irony. Yeah, he contemplated, there was no question his path was set.

To the casual observer who might come upon the cabin, it would look to be unoccupied and neglected. A hermit, perhaps a prospector, was said to have built the cabin and settled there. Outside of very rare trips into Colbert City to purchase supplies, no one saw the man or even knew who he was. One day he simply vanished—either by choice or misadventure—leaving behind no possessions by which to establish his identity. All that remained inside the cabin were some sparse, crudely constructed furnishings, most likely crafted by the hermit himself.

The prevailing theory among the locals—and the reason this area was rarely ventured into—was that one day Chiricahua braves had come scouting down from the hills and discovered the hermit and captured him. Either that, or the old man himself had foolishly ventured too far into Chiricahua territory. His ultimate fate would remain a mystery, but given the Chiricahua's hatred for the white man and their unique methods of torture, various stories of what had happened to the hermit—becoming ever more gruesome in repeated tellings—became popular talk around saloons in the county.

The cabin provided two sleeping quarters, each supplied with a bed that suggested at some point the old hermit may have had a partner. One of the rooms was now occupied by the girl, Cora, while the three men had to work out their own sleeping arrangements in the other room.

The trio of outlaws didn't seem to do much more than drink whiskey and play cards. They'd been laying low since their last robbery some weeks before, which they'd pulled off in a neighboring county, and appeared to be growing restless with their idleness. Ehron Lee didn't like to be in their company and he sensed they weren't too sure about him either. These men were seasoned outlaws, and despite his having been hardened by his five years at Rockmound, Ehron Lee was not as yet a criminal—no matter what the court judged. Without knowing his history, the men could detect that when it came to their line of work, Ehron Lee was a tenderfoot.

Savagely slapping cards onto the table as they played their hands, the men cast periodic and furtive glances at Ehron Lee, trying to figure what part he had in the scheme their former partner Ward was proposing. They also weren't too keen on the threat Ehron Lee had relayed from their old compadre.

Taking a slug of whiskey, Jess Colfax said gutturally, “Reckon you and Crawford got to be pretty close partnered together in that cell.”

“Close enough,” Ehron Lee responded. He would not allow himself to be intimidated by the tight-eyed looks leveled at him.

“Don't rightly know if I approve of Ward's methods,” Randy Boggs said sourly. “Sounds sorta like blackmail.”

“Just callin' in a favor,” Ehron Lee explained.

“Don't call tryin' to get us killed no favor, fella,” Jess said.

Cora was standing at the counter with her back turned to the men, preparing the deer meat for their supper. She'd been listening to the talk without saying a word. But suddenly she spun around to face the table, pressing closed fists against her waist, and she spoke impatiently.

“He coulda got himself hanged protectin' you boys. Don't forget, it was
me
that sat in that courthouse every day. I heard what went on. They tried to talk him into makin' a deal that coulda got him off easy—if'n he'd name you boys. But he wouldn't betray you. He kept his mouth shut.”

Her brother, Brad, exhaled slowly.

“He wasn't hanged, Cora,” he said.

“Maybe not. But you gonna say he knew that at the time?” Cora returned. “And even if he didn't get no rope, look where he's hadda spend them last years: Hell's Doorway.”

“Hell's Doorway for him maybe,” Brad said with a smirk. “For us tryin' to get him outta there, it's more like that other name they call it: Cartridge Hill.” He swiftly formed his hand into a gun and fired off pretend shots at his tablemates. “Bang, bang.”

The men chuckled uneasily.

“Well, from where I see it, Ward Crawford's got more guts than you three combined,” Cora stated with emphasis.

Her comment silenced the men, though each wore an ill-tempered expression.

“Aw, forget what Cora says,” Jess said, tossing his cards onto the table and getting up from his chair. “Fact is, we ain't got no choice but to help Crawford.”

Brad spoke with some hesitation. “Yuh really think he'd turn us in?”

“Let's just say I ain't keen on gamblin' with the stakes so high,” Jess replied, deadpan. “And for us it could mean the rope. Sure, they got Ward, but the law can't be too pleased we got away all this time.”

Brad gave a thoughtful nod. “Reckon. Plus there are them other jobs we've pulled since then. Yeah, could definitely be a swingin' in our future if Ward talks.”

Randy gently laid down his cards and started to build a cigarette. “Never worried myself 'bout Ward turnin' on us.”

“If it makes you fellas feel any better, callin' in this debt wasn't what he wanted to do,” Ehron Lee said. “If'n there was any other way for him to get out, he'd'a first gone that route.”