One Went to Denver and the Other Went Wrong (Code of the West) (24 page)

  Tap fought to get his breath as he strained at the leather straps that held his wrists. “Dillard,” he panted. “I should have known it would take a soft-skinned coward to bushwhack a man, tie him up, and then shoot him.”

  Pardee started to swing the carbine barrel at Tap’s head, but Dillard shoved him out of the way.

  “I said no.”

  Pardee spun and pointed the carbine at Dillard. “Don’t you ever, ever shove me again. Understand?”

  “I pay the bills around here, and you’ll do as I say.” Dillard yelled back. “And I say he needs time to think about the fact of who it is that is doin’ him in.”

  Pardee continued to hold the gun on Dillard.

  Tap felt that the leather straps on his wrists might be loosening. “Pardee, what’s a gunman of your quality doin’ workin’ for such a pasty-faced swindler like Dillard?”

  “He pays good.”

  Dillard ignored Pardee and walked up close to Tap. “You insulted me in front of the governor. You lost me hundreds of thousands of dollars. And you thought you were just going to ride out of town? No one lives long who crosses Carter Dillard.”

  “Yeah, you tie them up and shoot ’em. Now that ought to make you feel like a brave man.”

  “Don’t try that line on me because when I’m through with you, I’ll put a bullet through your head.”

  Pardee turned back to face Tap. “Where’s Pepper?”

  “How would I know?”

  “She seemed to think you were the heroic type who’d come rescue her, and now you’re the one needin’ help. We heard she and some crippled-up piano player were travelin’ with you.”

  “I’m by myself.”

  “You’re a liar,” Pardee sneered. He kicked wildly, but Tap rolled out of the way of the blow.

  Dillard pulled back the hammer of his revolver and aimed it at Pardee. “Back off, Junior. I’m settlin’ this right now.”

  Pardee pointed the carbine at Dillard. “Maybe this is the time to settle plenty of scores.”

  With Dillard and Pardee faced off, Tap pulled his left wrist free from the leather straps.

  The sound of a rifle being cocked at the doorway of the barn caused all three men to stare at the shaded figure standing in the morning light.

  Pepper had watched daylight creep into the hotel room through curtains so thin she thought it prudent to get up early and dress in the dark. By the time she could see the yard outside the hotel, she had her hair pulled back and set in combs.

  I’m goin’ to get back to McCurley’s and sit in the bathtub for three days. Then I’m goin’ to put on my fancy dress and sit in the parlor until Christmas. Christmas. The wedding. I’ll have to get that dress made and Tap’s shirt . . . maybe just a few ruffles.

  I wonder if he’s up yet? He’s probably out with the team. Maybe he’ll walk up on the hill with me, and maybe we could .
 . .

  Pepper carried her coat on her arm down the hall and out into the dining room. Someone from the kitchen staff was straightening tables. She waved as she stepped outside onto the narrow, covered porch. Strolling out toward the corrals, she held her hands up to shade her eyes from the bright morning sun. Something on the fence post caught her attention.

  A coffee cup? A rifle? That’s Tap’s ’73 with that long-range sight. He’s up already. Maybe he’s in the barn.

  Laying her coat on the rail next to the coffee cup, she picked up the rifle and walked to the barn door.

  I’ll tease him about leavin’ this out here.

  Hearing shouts come from inside, she paused at the door. The voices were too familiar. Without another thought she shoved the door open. Cocking the .44-40, she stepped in holding the heavy rifle to her shoulder.

  “Pepper,” Tap called out.

  “Ain’t this a quack,” Pardee sneered, with the carbine at his hip but now pointed toward Pepper. “I jist been thinkin’ about you, missy.”

  “Pepper, put the gun down before I have to shoot you,” Dillard commanded.

  “You ain’t goin’ to shoot her. You wanted Andrews. You got him. After we lead the loverboy down, I think me and Miss Pepper might just ride down to Texas for a spell.”

  She pointed the rifle at Pardee, then at Dillard, then back at Pardee. Both men inched toward her.

  “You come any closer, and someone’s goin’ to get shot,” she hollered. Then with a slight tremble in her voice she cried out, “Tap, are you all right?”

  “I’m not exactly my handsome self,” he called. “If you’re going to shoot one, shoot Pardee.”

  She whipped the rifle back toward Junior Pardee, and he instantly stopped moving toward her.

  “Pardee’s a fair shot, so shoot him first. Aim for the gut. Now Dillard couldn’t hit a buffalo from five feet. Isn’t that true, Pardee? Dillard’s just a blowhard that’s always hired someone else to do all the work. Isn’t that something, Junior? He gets the money. He gets the women. He gets the fancy clothes, and some other poor sap has to do all the work.”

  “Shut up. He’s just stallin’, Junior. You kill the girl. I’ll kill Andrews.”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Tap roared. “He kills the guy who’s tied up and wants you to take the first round of that 200-grain lead bullet.”

  “I said, shut up.” Dillard spun toward Tap and kicked at his head.

  Junior Pardee lunged and grabbed the barrel of Pepper’s rifle. Pepper squeezed the trigger. The blast bounced the rifle off her shoulder. She staggered back.

  Junior Pardee was lifted off the ground by the impact and flew back about five feet. For a moment he stared in disbelief at the bullet hole just below his rib cage. “She done killed me,” he moaned and then slumped to the dirt on the barn floor.

  Tap, having just freed his other hand from the leather bindings, caught the toe of Dillard’s boot with both hands and, twisting it hard, brought the man crashing to the ground. Pouncing on his back, he shoved Dillard’s arm behind him and kept him pinned face down in the dirt. Both men stared over at Pepper and Pardee.

  Pepper threw the rifle to the ground and slumped down to a sitting position against the barn wall.

  “Pepper? Are you hurt?”

  “I think I’m goin’ to vomit,” she called.

  “Put your head between your knees,” Tap called out. “Quick. Get your head lower.”

  “It’s not the first time she ever pulled a trigger,” Dillard cried out.

  Tap increased the pressure to the man’s arm.

  “But then there’s probably a lot of things she’s never told you,” Dillard mocked.

  Pepper wanted to shout something. She wanted to pick up the gun and shoot Dillard. She wanted to grab Tap and get him out of there. But all she could do was gasp for breath and try not to pass out.

  “Look, Andrews, you got a right to know what you’re gettin’ there,” Dillard continued. “Ask her what she owes me? Ask her about how I saved her life. Ask her about what I did for her and the baby.”

  “No!” Pepper began to sob.

  Tap rolled Dillard over and caught the man with a left cross to the head and then three quick upper cuts to the chin. On the third cracking blow, Carter Dillard’s eyes rolled back, and he slumped unconscious to the dirt.

  Tap crawled over to Pepper and pulled her head to his chest. He could feel the blood on his face mat in her hair, but he held her tight.

  For several minutes he rocked her back and forth. Tap could hear horsemen gallop off the road and into the hotel yard. Finally he pulled back and lifted up her chin so that she would have to look him in the eyes.

  “It’s all right now, darlin’ . . . it’s all over,” he tried to soothe her. “It’s all over. You saved my life. It’s all right.”

  “But, it’s not all right. Dillard—”

  “In the barn,” a deep voice bellowed from outside. “This is the county sheriff. I want you to walk out right now with your hands in plain sight. Do not carry any firearms.”

  “Come on, Pepper-girl. Sounds like the posse arrived a little late. Let’s go over to the hotel and clean up.”

  Tap left his rifle and Colt lying in the dirt and helped Pepper to her feet. When he stood, his right knee gave out on him, and he put his arm around Pepper’s shoulders. They limped together to the barn door and shoved it open.

  The county sheriff and a dozen posse members sat on their horses with guns drawn.

  “Andrews? My word . . . Have you been shot?”

  “We’re okay, Sheriff Branger.”

  “We tracked Carter Dillard and Junior Pardee here. Cheyenne telegraphed to say that it was Dillard who deposited that money in Barranca’s account. I’m to arrest those two for instigating the murder of Billingsly.”

  “They’re inside,” Tap reported, still limping with Pepper toward the hotel.

  “Are they dead?” the sheriff called.

  “Maybe Pardee, but Dillard’s just knocked out.”

  The sheriff and his men dismounted and tiptoed into the barn.

  “Pepper, wait a minute. Let me catch my breath.”

  “I can’t talk about it. I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you wanted to leave me, but I can’t.” She began to whimper  again.

  “Look at me. Don’t look down. You got nothing to look down about. I love you and I know that the Lord’s forgiven you for all that rotten stuff, just like He’s forgiven me. I don’t care what it is you can or can’t tell me. It doesn’t make any difference.”

  “It would if you knew.”

  “Nope. It’s done and over. Sometime when we’re sixty and sittin’ on the porch, with the grandkids running back to their place, and you feel like talkin’, then you can tell me all about it . . . if you want."

  Pepper felt all cried out. "Do you mean that?"

   "Yep. It don’t make any difference. Ten minutes ago in that barn I thought I would never feel you in my arms again. It was the most dead, empty feelin’ I’ve ever had. Then there you were at the door. As soon as I saw you, I knew everything would be all right. That’s the only thing that matters.”

  Pepper stared into his brown eyes. She stood on her toes to kiss him but then pulled back. “You don’t have a clean spot on your whole face. You look as bad as yesterday.”

  “I aim to fix that up shortly. Let’s go home, darlin’.”

  “Hey, Andrews,” the sheriff called out from the barn door. “What happened in here?”

  “Me and Pepper stood them down. That’s all. Didn’t we, girl?”

  “Yep. We stood ’em down. Together.”

  The sheriff hiked over to them. “You plan to come back to Denver to testify?”

  “Nope. Let the dead bury the dead,” Tap replied. “But you can come out to the ranch. We’ll sign a testimony. For now, we’ve got a weddin’ to plan. I’m not leavin’ the Medicine Bows again until we’ve recited those vows.”

  He smeared his coat sleeve across his mouth.

  “Hey, Pepper-girl, I think my lips are clean now.”

  He gave her a wink.

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