Love and Glory: The Coltrane Saga, Book 3 (24 page)

“Help me,” he whispered, struggling to lift his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. “They’re burning me alive. Please help me…”

“Drop it,” Travis motioned to the shorter man, the one holding the poker.

The man did, snarling, “Who the hell you think you are, busting in on what ain’t none of your business?”

Travis said calmly, “Who the hell do you think you are, burning a man?”

“He’s gonna tell us something,” the taller man spoke up quickly. “You just get back outta the way and let us finish, and we’ll give you a share.”

Travis sized them up. They were both coarse and rough in appearance, their faces reflecting the renegade lives they had led. There was probably no crime these two had not committed. A man, Travis had long ago learned, cannot mask his true character if you look deep into his eyes, and these two revealed themselves as rogues of the worst kind. He nodded to Sam to go to the suffering man’s aid.

“What was he going to tell you?” Travis asked quietly, holding both weapons unwaveringly, while Sam untied the victim.

“He found a silver lode,” the taller one volunteered. He was older, his eyes partially hidden by thick, flashy lids. A small black spot was centered on his left cheek. A bullet scar, Travis surmised.

“We saw him in Virginia City at the claims office,” he rushed on, sensing Travis’ immediate interest and mistaking it for his own greed. “We followed him around for two weeks, thinkin’ he’d go to his find, but he was onto us and leadin’ us on a wild goose chase. So we jumped him and decided to make him talk. We want that silver, and if you help us get it outta him, then we’ll split with you and your partner.”

“It’s bound to be a good lode,” the shorter man spoke up, a note of hope in his gravelly voice. “There’ll be enough for all of us. Look, my name is Frank Bailey and my partner is Josh Warren. The man you kilt was Abe Fordham, but he won’t worth a shit, nohow. We don’t care if you kilt him, do we, Josh? We ain’t mad.”

Josh shook his head, a nervous smile touching his lips. “No, we don’t care. We’ll gladly give you his share and part of ours. You look like a smart man. Maybe you can get it outta this bastard without havin’ to kill him.”

“No,” the victim choked. Sam was holding a canteen for him to sip water, but he pushed it away, turning beseeching eyes on Travis. “No. I won’t tell. Go on and kill me. My stake is claimed. It’ll go to my wife and my boy if I die. I’ve worked too hard to give up anything to you sonsofbitches.”

“Aw, shit, you fool,” Frank Bailey snapped. “You go on and tell us where it is, and we’ll all work together. There’s enough for all of us. Why do you want to be so damn selfish?” His voice ended in a whine.

“Why don’t you get out and find your own strike?” he cried, then turned to Travis once more. “My name’s Wiley Odom. I come from Louisiana. Help me, and I’ll share with you.”

“A fuckin’ Reb,” Josh spat on the ground. “Mighta known.”

“Shut up!” Travis snapped. To Sam, he said, “Keep an eye on them.”

He moved to Wiley Odom’s side and knelt down beside him. “I’m Travis Coltrane, and I hail from Louisiana, too. You’ve nothing to fear from me. I’m not after your silver. Now we’re going to see what we can do about taking care of your burns, and then we’ll take these two into Virginia City and turn them over to the marshal there. You can come with us if you want to see a doctor, or you can go your way.”

He blinked in suspicious confusion. “You don’t want my silver?” he asked, incredulous.

Frank Bailey screamed in a rage, “If you don’t want a part of it, you’re a goddamn fool.”

Josh Warren sputtered, “He’s willing to share with you two but not with us? That ain’t fair. We’re the ones who tracked him down, and it cost Fordham his life. I say you make the bastard talk, and then we’ll all share. That’s fair!”

Travis stared at first one and then the other in silence. “There will be no sharing of this man’s strike. He found it and staked a claim and it’s his.” He nodded to Sam. “Tie them up.”

“No you don’t.” Frank moved for his gun with incredible speed, managing to clear his holster but not to aim before an explosion sounded and he toppled forward to the ground.

Josh Warren had seen the movement and followed, but his gun never cleared before Travis fired and sent him after his partner into death.

Wiley Odom stared wide-eyed, then licked his lips nervously. “Lord, now you’re gonna torture me, ain’t you? But there ain’t no need. I said I’d share with you.”

“Relax, Odom.” Travis got to his feet and walked over to the two bodies. “We’re not interested in your silver. I told you that.”

“Then why…why did you help me?” he asked in wonder. “Everybody is after silver.”

Travis knelt and searched the men’s pockets. There was nothing of value to be turned over to the marshal in Virginia City. He pondered whether to bury them. Digging three graves was going to take a while, and he had hoped to make it to the mining town that day.

“Why did you help me?” Odom turned to Sam when Travis ignored him. “How come you ain’t after my silver?”

“He’s looking for his wife,” Sam explained. “Besides, we don’t want anything we don’t work for. We never have. As for helping you, well, you’re a fellow human being, and Travis Coltrane has never turned his back on anyone in need. I’ve tried to do likewise, but I’m not as good at it as my friend is. I lose patience, and I ain’t one to stick my neck out. He manages to stick it out for me, though,” he added with a soft chuckle. Travis couldn’t quite suppress his own grin.

Sam spotted Wiley Odom’s clothes and retrieved them for him. “Wait and let me get some salve from my saddlebag. It’s good for everything, including burns. We’ll rip up something for a bandage.” He turned to Travis, who was still kneeling over the bodies. “You want to bury them?”

“No,” came his quiet response. “I want to get to Virginia City. Before the sun rises on another day, I want to find Luke Tate.”

“I heard of him.”

Travis was on his feet in a flash, rushing to Wiley Odom’s side so quickly that the man shrank back in fear. “What did you say? You know Luke Tate?”

“I…I said I heard of him,” Wiley stammered, fright making him tremble. “I don’t know him.”

Travis realized he was terrifying the man. He forced himself to speak calmly. “Please. It’s very important to me. Luke Tate kidnaped my wife back in North Carolina and brought her out here.
Anything
you can tell me will be helpful. Just try to remember all you’ve heard about him.” Please, God, Travis prayed, let him say Tate is still in Virginia City and he’s seen Kitty and she’s all right. Please, God, I’ve waited so long.

Wiley winced with pain as Sam began to rub the black salve into his burned flesh. Then, swallowing hard, he said, “I ain’t never met him, and from what I’ve heard I don’t want to. He’s real trouble. Shot five men that I know of and the law don’t touch him. If he’s made a strike, I ain’t heard about it. He don’t seem to do nothing but hang around and make trouble.

“The reason I heard so much about him,” he continued, “is ’cause everybody in Virginia City stays clear of him if they got any sense.”

He paused, looking up at Travis as he whispered, “You say he’s got your wife? You poor man.”

“Save your pity for Tate,” Travis snapped. “He’s going to need it when I find him.” He took a deep breath and rushed on hopefully, “Did you ever see him with a woman? A beautiful woman with red hair and violet eyes?” Wiley Odom shook his head sorrowfully.

“When I was in Virginia City last week, I was there for five days. I saw Tate around in saloons and out in the street, but I never saw him with a woman.” Seeing the look on Travis’ face, he hastened to add, “Now, that ain’t to say he ain’t got your wife stashed away somewheres. He wouldn’t be a’bringin’ her into no saloon, anyhow.”

“Yes, he would,” Travis murmured sadly. “He’d take her everywhere with him.”

Sam spoke loudly, forcing heartiness. “Hey, that ain’t necessarily so, boy. He might keep her hid out somewheres. Hell, how did he know Nancy Danton would keep her mouth shut? He can’t be too careful, knowing the law might be after him.”

“I should have wired the marshal and had him picked up. But damn it, I wanted him myself. Wanted the pleasure of killing him. And I didn’t want to take any chances with a marshal I don’t know. Now it may be too late,” Travis finished in a whisper.

“No, it’s not too late.” Sam said gruffly. “Let’s get going. We can make Virginia City by midafternoon if we ride hard.”

To Odom, Travis offered, “We’ll be glad to take you in with us and have a doctor see to those burns.”

“I’m going to be just fine.” He struggled to his feet, his wounds hurting but gratitude overcoming pain. He held out his hand first to Travis, then to Sam. “I’ll never forget what you did. Never. I hope you find your wife. I’ll be praying for you.”

They reached the outskirts of Virginia City, Nevada, as the sun sank low in the west. Pausing atop a ridge, they immediately felt the boom-town excitement that hovered then over the mining city. Now and then a shrill laugh danced on the wind. A gunshot rang out, then another. Shouts. Sounds of revelry.

“It looks busy,” Travis said, fighting his teeming emotions.

“It is,” Sam responded. “Now we got to remember that if Tate sees us first, we’re in trouble. He’ll crawl in a hole and stay there.”

“I’m not so sure he would recognize me. It’s been several years, and there was only that brief encounter the day we followed his band of outlaws, the day I found Kitty.” His voice trailed off painfully.

Suddenly a realization flashed through Sam’s mind.

“Travis! Did you ever stop to think we won’t recognize Luke Tate? Hell, I just realized I don’t really know what I’m looking for.”

“Kitty described him to me very clearly,” said Travis. “I keep a picture in my head, a picture that wouldn’t go away even if I wanted it to.” Travis described Luke Tate for Sam, who listened carefully, nodding.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, and when they reached the teeming camp town, with its one main street fronted by saloons and gambling houses, miners’ supply stores and claim offices, they were easily swallowed up by the crowd.

“We start at one end of the street and go all the way down,” Travis instructed as they dismounted and tied their horses beside a watering trough. “Then we go up the other side. We stay at it all night long…as long as it takes to find Tate.”

Sam nodded agreement. “If he’s here, we’ll find him, and I’d bet my last drink of whiskey he’s here somewhere. And so is Kitty.”

Travis sucked in his breath quickly, his heart skipping.
Kitty.

He had to find her, had to. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly with a quick look at Sam, stepping up onto the boardwalk with determination.

It didn’t take long to find out that each saloon was like another. Prospectors were either celebrating their good fortune or drowning their sorrows in drink. Fights broke out frequently, and in the third saloon they visited, they ducked behind an overturned table as shots whizzed across the room.

Sam said very little during their search. He knew Travis was lost in his own world of misery and self-condemnation and he let his friend be. Like Travis, Sam prayed they were not too late for Kitty.

Piano music drifted through the open doorway of a saloon. They paused before entering it, eyes scanning the crowd of drunken revelers.

“Maybe we should just go to the marshal,” Sam said, frustrated after many hours of searching.

Travis shook his head. “I don’t want the marshal in on this. Even if this is a boom town, I don’t imagine there are many secrets. If Tate gets wind we’re around, he’ll run and take Kitty with him. No. We’ve got to take him by surprise, all by ourselves, and we’ve got to find him
tonight.”

He walked into the smokey saloon and Sam followed, knowing Travis was right. Neither of them would rest until Kitty was found.

Travis took a table in a corner, his back to the wall, where he could see everything. Sam sat at his right. A girl dressed in a scanty costume of tight, red satin and dyed ostrich feathers breezed over. Her eyes flicked over Travis, and her bored expression quickly livened. “Well, hello there, handsome,” she cooed, leaning over to give him a better view of her cleavage. “Ain’t seen you around here before. You come to find your fortune like everybody else? My name’s Sally, and I’ll be glad to show you around.”

Travis was scanning the room, ignoring her obvious play. “Just bring us a bottle of your best whiskey,” he said quietly, “and two glasses.”

“You ain’t so friendly, are you?” She sniffed, straightening.

She started to move away, but he reached out to clamp his hand on her wrist and pull her back. She sat down on his lap, pretending to struggle, but her eyes were shining. Her painted mouth turned up in a wide grin. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? I got a job to do, you know.”

“Worry about your job later,” he murmured, his breath warm on her ear. “Right now I need a little information.”

Sam glanced at him sharply. Travis had said he did not want anyone to know they were looking for Tate. Sam started to say something, then decided against it. Travis always knew what he was doing.

“Sure, honey,” Sally was cooing again. “I’m always glad to oblige when I can. You’re lookin’ for somebody, ain’t you? Well, just so you don’t tell anybody I run my mouth off, and as long as you don’t do no shootin’ in here.”