Confessions of a Gunfighter (30 page)

Chapter seventy-nine

Lee rode back in right before dark.

We were sitting out on the front porch of the main house, and I had been explaining all that had happened during my stay at Midway.

Lee unsaddled his horse and joined us.

Mrs. Tomlin had saved Lee some supper, and he sat out on the front porch with us while he ate.

“I found him,” he told me.

“You tell him?” I asked.

“Yep,” Lee said. “He seemed pleased.”

“How come?” I asked.

“It’ll happen in town, and that’ll give Palmer an audience,” Lee explained.

“Oh,” I said.

Lee continued.

“Palmer’s going to be ready too. It seems like he’s healed up good, and he also told me that he’s been practicing.”

“He needed to,” I replied, and then I stood. “Well, reckon I’ll be turning in.”

Everybody said goodnight, and I went down to the bunkhouse and bedded down. But I didn’t sleep much, and I was up way before breakfast.

I was restless, and while I waited for daylight I cleaned and reloaded my ivory handled six-shooter.

By then everybody else was up, so we all went up to the main house and ate breakfast.

It was a solemn meal. Nobody talked much, and everybody looked anxious. That is, ’cept for Lee. He ate more than the rest of us combined.

After breakfast I went down to the barn and saddled Desperate. Lee came along too, and when he started saddling his horse I looked curiously at him.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“With you,” Lee replied.

I thought it over.

“I ain’t asking for help,” I finally said.

“I ain’t offering to help,” Lee replied. “I just want a closer look, is all.”

I frowned, but didn’t say anything.

Everybody else stood by as I led Desperate out of the corrals.

“We’d like to help if we could,” Mr. Tomlin spoke up.

I shook my head.

“I appreciate the offer, sir, but this is between me and Palmer.”

Mr. Tomlin nodded.

“All right then. You just be careful,” he said.

I nodded, and then Rachel walked over to me. Everybody else backed off and left us alone.

“I guess you have to do this,” she said.

“It’ll happen sooner or later,” I agreed. “Might as well be sooner.”

Rachel lifted her chin proudly.

“All right then, go do what you have to do. I’ll be here when you get back.”

I looked at her for a moment, and then I turned and stepped into the saddle.

Everybody watched us as we rode out. For some reason I had a lump in my throat, and I had to turn my head.

We trotted in silence, but then Lee finally looked over at me.

“How you feeling?”

“Still sore and stiff,” I replied.

Lee shot me a worried look.

“That ain’t a good way to be before a gunfight,” Lee said. “Especially stiff.”

“I’ll be fine,” I replied.

Lee nodded thoughtfully, and then he smiled.

“Seems like we’ve made this ride before,” Lee commented.

I smiled and nodded.

“Worried?” Lee wanted to know.

I shrugged.

“It’s always the tenderfoot that gets you,” Lee declared. “Now, Palmer ain’t no tenderfoot, but he ain’t got ‘it’ neither. But he does have luck.”

“You ain’t making me feel any better,” I said.

“Sorry, I was just thinking out loud,” Lee said. “You know me; I like to think ’bout things.”

“Uh-huh.”

Lee continued.

“Course, you’ve never been beaten.”

I disagreed, and I shook my head.

“No, Kinrich beat me the first time,” I said.

Lee frowned as he thought on that.

“True, but you beat Kinrich the second time around,” Lee said.

I smiled wryly.

“That’s why I’m still here,” I replied.

“’Spose it is,” Lee agreed. “Course, Palmer’s still here too.”

“’Cause he’s lucky,” I assumed.

“Yep,” Lee nodded. “So, the question is: are you better, or is he luckier?”

“Reckon we’ll find out,” I replied.

“Reckon so,” Lee said.

Chapter eighty

Like before, Lee rode into town first to look things over.

I sat down and waited on the same log that I had sat on before. About twenty minutes passed, and then Lee trotted back.

“Palmer’s sitting out on the front porch of the hotel, waiting for you,” Lee told me.

I nodded as I got mounted.

“And another thing,” Lee said. “Them new soldier boys ain’t in town. They’re out on a patrol somewheres.”

“Good,” I reasoned. “One less thing to worry about.”

Lee nodded, and then we rode into town.   

As we rode down the street the feeling suddenly grabbed a-hold of me, and I felt a fury building up inside of me like I had never felt before. Palmer had caused me a lot of grief over the years, and for the first time I actually
wanted
to kill.

I dismounted and looked at Lee.

“If Palmer kills me, then I want you to make sure that he doesn’t bother the Tomlins,” I said.

“Sure,” Lee nodded.

I nodded back, and then I tied Desperate to the hitching rail.

Lee did the same, and he stepped up onto the porch behind me.

“Good luck,” Lee said.

I smiled and nodded, and then I turned and walked towards the hotel.

Palmer stood when he saw me, and he stepped out into the street. I walked towards him and stopped when I was about thirty feet away. The wind was blowing a little, and dust swirled around us.

I studied Palmer. He was sober and solemn looking, and his face was hard as a rock.   

I spoke first in a low, hard voice.

“I don’t want this, Palmer, but you’ve left me no choice.”

“That’s right,” Palmer said solemnly. “I’ve been waiting for this day a long time. After I kill you folks will finally know who I am.”

“You’re nothing, Palmer, and you always will be,” I replied.

Palmer’s eyes went hard and flat. He stood there poised and ready, and any second now he was going to draw. 

There was no need to say anything else, so I just stood there and waited for him to make the first move.

Suddenly, Palmer made a grab for his six-shooter.

With lightning speed I palmed my Colt, and Palmer hadn’t even touched his gun handle yet.

My six-shooter blasted away, and Palmer’s body jolted backwards.

I slapped the hammer with the palm of my hand as I walked towards him, and every time I fired Palmer’s body jerked violently.

The loud clicking sound of my empty six-shooter finally made me stop. Palmer fell over backwards, and he was coughing and spitting up blood.

I reloaded and holstered my six-shooter, and then I walked up to him. Death was quickly coming to him, and he looked at me with terror stricken eyes.

“I thought I was faster,” he managed to say.

“You thought wrong,” I replied.

Palmer didn’t answer. His eyes were starting to glaze over, and just like that he was dead.

I shook my head as I looked down at him.

“What a waste,” I muttered softly.

Lee walked up behind me.

“You all right?” Lee asked.

I nodded curtly, and Lee frowned as he looked down at Palmer.

“Reckon he didn’t practice enough,” he commented.

“Guess not,” I replied.

It was silent, and then I turned towards the horses.

“Let’s go home,” I said.

Epilogue

Lee left two days later.

We had just finished eating breakfast when Lee announced that he was leaving. Everybody tried to talk Lee into staying, but his mind was made up.

“I ain’t never been able to stay in one place for too long,” Lee told Mr. Tomlin. “It’s time I drifted on.”

“Well, you’re welcome back anytime,” Mr. Tomlin replied.

“I appreciate that,” Lee replied earnestly.

They shook hands, and then Lee and I walked down to the barn. I stood by with my hands in my pockets while I watched Lee saddle his horse.

“You may not know it, but you’ve got a good future here, Rondo,” Lee said as he tightened his cinch.

“Think so?” I replied.

“Know so,” Lee said. “Don’t you go and mess it up now.”

I smiled wryly.

“I’ll try not to,” I said.

Lee looked over at me, and he smiled and nodded.

“So, where are you headed?” I asked.

Lee was silent as he finished saddling his horse, and I could tell that he was hesitant to tell me.

I waited patiently, and Lee finally gave in.

“I met some brothers by the name of Oltman up in Abilene,” Lee said. “We figured we might, uh, work together some.”

“Doing what?” I asked suspiciously.

Lee didn’t reply. Instead, he just laughed as he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a cigar.

I shook my head disapprovingly.

“You remember what Yancy said,” I said sternly. “You should quit that outlaw business before you get yourself killed.”

“Sure should,” Lee agreed as he bit off the end of his cigar.

“But you ain’t going to,” I figured.

Lee smiled as he lit up his cigar and took a puff.

“Nope, reckon not,” he said as he exhaled.

I sighed.

“Well, you take care of yourself anyhow,” I said.

Lee nodded as he stepped up into the saddle. He got himself settled, and then he looked at me and grinned.

“So long, Button,” he said.

“So long, Lee,” I replied.

Lee kicked up his horse, and I stood there and watched him go.

There was a part of me that wanted to go with him. But then I saw Rachel walking down from the house, and I quickly changed my mind.

About the Author

Born in West Texas, Tell Cotten is a seventh generation Texan. He comes from a family with a ranching heritage and is a member of the Sons of the Republic of Texas. He is currently in the cattle business, and he resides in West Texas with his wife, Andi, and their two children.

Tell is the award-winning author of The Landon Saga. His novels have won Gold and Silver in the Readers' Favorite awards, and Tell also won Best New Western in the Laramie Awards and bronze in the Global ebook awards for CONFESSIONS OF A GUNFIGHTER.

For announcements of new releases and all other information, please join The Landon Saga Facebook group
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or join Tell’s website
http://tellcotten.wordpress.com/

Acknowledgements

I’d like to thank Jim for his advice, and I’d also like to thank my wife and parents for all their support and advice.

Thanks to Mike for the great cover, and thanks to Eric for a fine editing job. And lastly, I’d like to thank Nik for all his help and advice. It was a real pleasure working with everyone on this book!   

Enjoy these sample chapters of
Entwined Paths
by Tell Cotten, available now through Solstice Publishing. 

Entwined Paths

Book two in The Landon Saga series

Chapter one

Cliff Curtis rubbed his shoulder gingerly as he looked down into the narrow valley. Behind him, his men waited impatiently.

Cliff frowned as he pulled out his watch and glanced at it. According to the time, the stage should be here.

He winced as he returned his watch to his shirt pocket.

“Is your shoulder bothering you again?” Rusty Curtis asked his older brother.

“It never stops bothering me,” Cliff grumbled. “Specially in the mornings.”

“You’ve probably still got some lead in there,” Rusty suggested.

Cliff didn’t answer. He was looking in the far distance, and he narrowed his eyes. 

“See that dust? That’s gotta be the stage,” Cliff pointed.

Rusty looked and nodded.

“Probably so,” Rusty agreed.

Cliff turned and looked back at his men.

“Get ready,” he said.

Everybody knew what had to be done. Cliff had laid out his plans the night before, and had carefully gone over every detail.

Everybody but Brian Clark and Rusty had grumbled about Cliff’s persistence. But then Rusty reminded everybody that his older brother had ridden with the likes of Ben Kinrich, Lee Mattingly, and Rondo Landon, and he knew what he was talking about.

Brian Clark had also ridden with these men, but nobody cared about that. Everyone considered him to be old and wore out, and they couldn’t figure out why Cliff had let him come along.

Brian Clark was in his mid-fifties. He was a grizzled veteran, and he had been an outlaw longer than most of these other fellers had even been alive.

He also had a gentle way about him that the others didn’t have. Everybody else was always eager to kill, and that bothered Brian Clark.

In all, there were six men.

Two of them were hot headed, teenage brothers named Clyde and Clay Taylor. They were brash and confident, and they were also eager to make a name for themselves. Both were green. But, their gun skills were sufficient enough, and they were plenty tough.    

The best marksman was Utah ‘Stew’ Baine. He favored his Henry rifle, and his accuracy was legendary. 

Stew had dark hair, and he was tall and slim. He was mighty sure of himself, and he spoke his mind freely.

Lately Stew had been questioning Cliff’s authority, and it was only a matter of time before there was trouble. But, Cliff was confident that he could handle Stew.

Cliff was in his late thirties, and he was built like an ox. His guns skills were better than most, and he also liked to fight with his huge, massive fists. 

During the Civil War he had ridden with Quantrill’s raiders, and afterwards he drifted out west. Once there he joined up with Ben Kinrich’s outfit, and after that he organized his own outfit. So far they had only done small jobs, and this was their first big robbery.

Then there was Rusty.

Rusty was ten years younger than Cliff, and he had grown up hearing all about his wild, older brother. He wanted to be just like Cliff, and so far he was doing a good job of it.

Cliff crouched beside a tree and glanced sideways at everybody. 

Everyone else had also crouched down, and they waited in silence.

The stage finally turned into the narrow valley, and it came straight towards them. 

“All right, Stew,” Cliff said softly. “Make sure and drop them horses. You wound ’em and we’ll have to chase ’em plumb to Mexico.”

“I know my job,” Stew glared at Cliff.

“Then do it!” Cliff hissed.

Stew already had his Henry rifle loaded and cocked, so he took aim and fired. 

A split second later there was the loud thumping sound of a bullet hitting flesh, and a horse squealed in terror.

Stew fired three more times in rapid fashion, and all three shots hit their mark. All the horses squealed and kicked out as they went down, and just like that the stage was stuck. 

“Get the driver and the man riding shotgun,” Cliff said calmly.

Stew worked the lever as he put another bullet into the chamber, and then he took aim. 

The driver was getting off the coach, and right as he jumped Stew fired. The bullet hit the man in the back, and he was dead when he hit the ground.

The man riding shotgun meanwhile, jumped down and took cover behind the wheel.

He thought he was well hidden. But, Stew’s next bullet hit him in the chest, and his body was thrown over backwards. 

There were a few terrified screams from inside the coach, but then there was silence.

“Doesn’t get much easier than that!” Cliff laughed as he stood. “That was good shooting, Stew. I couldn’t have done it any better myself.”

Stew grunted in response while Cliff turned towards the horses.

“Stay here and cover us while we go on down,” Cliff said.

Stew nodded curtly as he reloaded his Henry rifle.

It was then that Cliff noticed Brian Clark. He had a troubled look on his face, and Cliff laughed.

“What’s the matter, Clark? Is your conscience bothering you again?” Cliff asked in a mocking tone.

“They never had a chance,” Brian Clark frowned distastefully.

“That is correct. If it makes you feel better, next time I’ll let you go down and be a target for ’em,” Cliff laughed wolfishly.

Brian Clark frowned, but he didn’t reply as everybody but Stew mounted up. 

They kicked up their horses and made their way down into the valley. Then, they loped up to the stage and surrounded it.  

“You inside!” Cliff yelled. “Come out real slow, you hear? One wrong move and we’ll kill everybody.”

It was silent, and the door opened slowly.

“Don’t shoot!” A man pleaded.

“Come on out,” Cliff demanded.

Four passengers stepped out slowly.

Two of the passengers were middle aged men, and they were real careful to keep their hands up where they could be seen.

The other two passengers were women.

One was a plump, elderly lady, and her face was flushed and hot. She was in a state of shock as she stared numbly at the situation.

The last passenger was a young woman. She clutched a small carpetbag, and it partly hid the blue and white dress she wore. She had a good figure, long blond hair, and light blue eyes.  

Everything came to a stop as everybody stared at her. Cliff noticed this, and he snapped everybody out of it.

“Clyde, you and Clay get the payroll box down. Rusty, you get them saddlebags ready. Me and Clark will take care of the passengers.”

Everybody got busy while Cliff studied the passengers.

“Any of you armed?” He asked.

The two men shook their heads.

“You lie and I’ll kill you,” Cliff warned.

They insisted that they weren’t armed. Cliff nodded, satisfied, and it fell silent as Cliff eyed them.

He thought about robbing them too, but then he decided against it. They were dressed plainly, and he doubted that they had much.

The young woman meanwhile, looked all around her, and she shook her head angrily.    

“What kind of man would shoot men and horses like that!” She demanded to know.    

Brian Clark’s face turned red, but Cliff just grinned. 

“A good shot,” Cliff replied wryly.

“You’re a coward!” She fired back.

“No, ma’am, just lazy,” Cliff replied. “If possible I didn’t want to chase you, and shooting them horses was the easiest way.”

“You won’t get away with this!” She exclaimed.

“Don’t see nobody stopping me,” Cliff replied, and he laughed. “Unless you’re planning on doing it.”  

The young woman looked angry, but she managed to choke back her response.

It was then that Cliff noticed the small carpetbag.

“What’s in there?” He demanded to know.

“It’s none of your business!” The young woman fired back, and her eyes flashed angrily.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Cliff answered smugly. “Hand it over.”

The young woman just stood there, so Cliff added firmly, “Now, lady.”

The young woman glared at Cliff as she sullenly stepped forward and handed over her carpetbag. 

Cliff grinned as he looped the handles over his saddle horn.

“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate your hospitality,” Cliff said, and his eyes twinkled.

The young woman didn’t reply. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared back.

By now Rusty had emptied the money from the payroll box into his saddlebags. He tied the saddlebags on behind his saddle and looked at Cliff.

“We’re ready, Cliff,” Rusty told him as everybody mounted up.

Cliff nodded and looked back at the passengers. 

“You all get back inside, and don’t come back out until after we’ve gone,” Cliff said.

They did as they were told. 

Just before the young woman climbed back in she gave Cliff another searing glare. Then, she slammed the door shut.

Cliff laughed as he turned to his men.

“All right, let’s go.”

As they rode out they failed to notice the shotgun rider.

He had been sprawled out on the ground presumed dead. But now he painfully rolled over, grabbed the wheel, and pulled himself up.

He steadied himself against the stagecoach, and then he reached down and grabbed his rifle. He took a long, careful aim. Then, he let out his breath and fired.