Outlaw's Reckoning (8 page)

“I need to set things straight so that family don't get any more grief on account of that money.” The stranger kept walking and then stopped. “Since we ain't about to kill each other, do you want to help me?”

Clint walked next to the stranger all the way back to the houses that were huddled together like travelers around a fire. They took their time in getting back, so most of the commotion they'd stirred up had died down. Most of the shades were drawn tightly over windows, and the doors were all shut. Nobody was sitting on the porches, and the area was quiet enough for Clint's footsteps to crash in his own ears.

“So do you have a name?” Clint asked. “I don't like to work with someone without even knowing his name.”

The stranger kept quiet for another few steps before finally glancing over and saying, “It's Matt Fraley.” He paused and watched Clint as though he was waiting for something in particular.

Sensing the tension in Matt's voice, Clint said, “I haven't heard of you, but that's not too big of a surprise considering how much you like to sneak around in the dark.”

Matt laughed, but it still didn't make him look any friendlier. In fact, his scarred face and harsh features were ill suited to a smile of any sort. “Who might you be, mister?”

“Clint Adams.”

Stopping instantly, Matt squared his shoulders to Clint and dropped his hand to his holstered Schofield.

Clint reacted out of pure reflex and stepped back while placing his hand on the grip of his Colt.

“I've heard of you,” Matt snarled. “You're the Gunsmith.”

“That's right,” Clint replied.

“You're practically the law.”

“I've worn a badge, but not on a regular basis.”

“You wearin' one now?” Matt asked.

“Would it have mattered?”

“You're damn right it would've mattered. It's the difference between you talking to me right now and you laying dead on the ground.”

“We can definitely keep talking,” Clint said. “But you can only try to follow through on the other. Personally, I wouldn't recommend it.”

Matt didn't make another move to draw his gun, but he also didn't take his hand away from his holster. His eyes narrowed and his muscles tensed until even the wind seemed to grind to a halt around him.

Finally, Clint said, “If I'd wanted to shoot you, I would have done it a while ago. If you know anything about me, you should know that I don't need to trick a man to drop his guard.”

The muscles in Matt's jaw twitched and his nostrils flared. Then, like a passing storm, the anger and suspicion that had been there a moment ago were gone. He nodded and continued walking. “You're right. Any man could've fired on me back when we were in that scrap. Hell, the Gunsmith might even stand a chance against me in a fair fight.”

Keeping his own predictions to himself, Clint said, “And if I was working with the law, I wouldn't be here on my own chasing you down when I could have had a few deputies backing me up.”

Matt nodded absently.

“So where'd all that money come from?” Clint asked.

“Here and there. We socked it away over more years than I can count.”

“Who did?”

“Me and the boys I used to ride with.” Glancing over his shoulder, Matt added, “Jed Hasselman was one of them boys.”

Clint didn't react much to that news. To some degree, he'd already put that together for himself. “The widow told me her husband was a bad man.”

Grinning, Matt said, “Bad . . . but not the worst. Hell, I don't even think he would've gotten into so much trouble if it weren't for me.”

“So is that what you're doing here?” Clint asked. “Looking in on the man's widow?”

Matt didn't say anything to that.

“What happened to Jed? Were you there when he was killed?” Clint stopped walking and waited to see the expression on Matt's face that was like the cold edge of a sharpened blade. He didn't have to wait long.

“Did you kill him?” Clint asked.

The question was stated without emotion or accusation. It took plenty of effort on Clint's part to keep it that way, but he must have done a good job because Matt wasn't able to keep his scowl on for very long.

“I didn't pull the trigger that day,” Matt said. “But I might as well have. There's plenty of folks out there who I killed, and I'll get to them soon enough. There were plenty of men who rode with me at one time or another, but Jed was a family man. He wanted to go back to his pretty wife and see his boy, but I convinced him to do otherwise. It's because of me that he ain't here no more.”

“How so?”

Matt remained quiet and looked toward the dim lights behind a few of the windows in the nearby houses. His gaze locked on one of the windows, but not the one belonging to Kay or Henry. Staring into that random pane of glass, Matt said, “It just is.”

Clint had had his doubts regarding Matt's intentions. He knew nothing about the man besides what Matt had told him and what he'd figured out for himself. Still, those things were enough to convince Clint to stay at Matt's side rather than try to run him off.

“So do I need to worry about the big bad Gunsmith putting a bullet in my back?” Matt asked.

“Not yet.”

Matt stared at Clint for a few seconds and then nodded as if he'd taken his own personal inventory of him. “What about later?”

“We'll have to wait and see. As long as you want to lend a hand to that widow and her son, I'm willing to do what I can.”

“Good. Since the boy advertised how much money he can get, we'll have to make it known that he don't have it no more.”

“And how do you propose on doing that?”

“Simple,” Matt replied. “We rob them.”

It was getting close to midnight when Clint and Matt returned to the cluster of houses. Although they'd been watching the homes on the edge of town for a while, most of that time was spent in hushed talks regarding what they intended on doing. In the end, Matt broke away from their spot and headed toward the house that was closest to him.

Clint had to admit he was impressed by watching Matt sneak up to the homes. Matt wasn't exactly a small man, and Clint never took his eyes off of him the entire time. Even so, Clint lost sight of Matt more than once. He even had to admit that he might have lost Matt completely if he hadn't already known where to look for him.

For a few seconds, Matt huddled beside a dark house like just another unmoving shadow. When Clint got a bit closer and waved, the shadow returned the wave and then straightened up to his full height.

Matt had his bandanna over his face as he walked straight up to the front door of the Hasselman house and kicked it open so it banged loudly against the wall. “Give me all that money!” he shouted.

The commotion immediately sparked some movement behind several other windows. Curtains were pulled back, and a few lanterns were lit here and there.

“You heard what I said!” Matt shouted. “Give me that damn money!”

Clint moved in closer to the house and watched as the glow of a lantern came on in one of the back rooms. There was plenty of movement around the other houses, but those folks were still content to stay inside and watch from where they thought they were safe.

Suddenly, Clint heard what must have been Kay's voice drifting through the air. Matt said something else to her, and they had a short, somewhat heated, conversation. The conversation ended with a piercing scream that brought Clint running toward the house. Along the way, Clint pulled his bandanna up over his face.

Clint found Matt still inside with Kay. Matt had the money in his hand and a surprised look in his eyes.

“You're early,” Matt said.

Clint looked to Kay and saw that she was more surprised than anything else. He drew his Colt and stepped away from the door. “Who the hell are you?” Clint shouted.

Taking his cue, Matt bolted out the door and ran straight along a path that took him past all the other homes. After tugging the bandanna off his face, Clint stepped onto the front porch, straightened out his arm and sighted along the top of the Colt's barrel. Pulling his trigger once, Clint saw Matt stumble and then continue running.

Clint took a few more steps before breaking into a halfhearted run. All the while, he fired at Matt's back, until his target finally disappeared into a shadow. Standing out for all to see, Clint flipped open his Colt's cylinder and dumped out the spent shells so he could replace them with fresh ones.

“There were two of them!” said someone from one of the nearby houses.

Looking in that direction, Clint spotted an older lady with a kerchief tied around her hair. “Did you see where the other one went?” Clint asked.

The woman looked at Clint for a few moments and then leaned out so she could look up and down the path that wove between the other houses. “No. He must've run in another direction.”

“Did anyone see where the other man went?” Clint asked loudly.

A few neighbors shouted their responses, but they quickly began shouting back and forth to one another about what they all thought they'd seen. Clint turned back toward Kay and holstered his pistol.

“Where's Henry?” he asked.

“Still in his room. Was that man . . . ?”

“Yeah,” Clint replied quickly. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “He . . . didn't lay a finger on me.” “Here,” Clint said as he took Kay's hand and placed the wad of money into it. “Take this and stash it somewhere nobody will find it. Nobody, you hear? Not even Henry.”

Kay's face was a mask of confusion as she shook her head in disbelief. “But that man just stole this from me. Did you catch him?”

“As far as anyone knows, the man got away with every last penny of it. That way, nobody will try to steal it for real. After Henry showed that cash around town, someone was bound to come for it. This way, they'll all think it's already gone.”

She nodded as everything sank in. “So that man wasn't really captured?”

“No. He was the one to come up with this idea. Frankly, I think it's a pretty good one. But you've got to do some playacting to make certain everyone buys into it. Don't show this money to anyone. If you spend it or deposit it into a bank, do so in dribs and drabs.”

Now Kay nodded with assurance. “I understand,” she said while tucking the money into a pocket of her night-gown and covering it with the robe she'd thrown on. “But what if that man comes back? Should I thank him?”

“He won't come back. I'll make sure of that.”

She started to ask another question, but stopped so she could lean to one side and take a look over Clint's shoulder.

At that same time, Clint heard steps pounding up toward the house.

“What's going on here?” a burly man with a large, bald head asked. “Who was doing that shooting?”

“I was robbed,” Kay said sadly. “This man right here chased him off.”

Clint had gotten a look at the burly man and immediately spotted the badge pinned to his chest. “I think I know where he went.”

“Good. Give me a moment to round up some of my boys and we can go after him.”

“Just head out toward the southeast,” Clint said. “That's where I'm going and I'll signal for you. If I have to change directions, I'll fire some shots into the air to let you know where I'm at.”

“Are you a lawman?”

“No, sir.”

“Then stay put until I come back,” the burly man said as he turned and hurried away. “I won't be long.”

Clint let him go without saying another word. There were more neighbors poking their noses from their houses every second, and Clint could feel the pressure to leave weighing down on him. “I'm not waiting here,” he told Kay. “I need to go. When the sheriff gets back, just tell him I headed out like I said I would.”

“What are you going to do when he catches up to you?” she asked.

“Don't worry about that. Just remember what I said, all right? Put that money to good use and you should be set up for a good, long time.”

Kay nodded as if her neck was growing tired. Before Clint could step through her door again, she reached out to hug him and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said urgently. “And if you see him again, tell the man thank you also. I know you couldn't have pulled this off without his help.”

Not wanting to waste another second, Clint left the house and ran to the stable where Eclipse was waiting. It didn't take long for him to saddle up the Darley Arabian, but he could see the group of lawmen forming by the time he left.

Pointing his nose to the eastern trail out of town, Clint rode out and then circled around to the north once he was far enough away. Birdie's Pass was behind him once more when he heard the thunder of the lawmen's horses racing off in the wrong direction.

In the back of Clint's mind, there was the concern that Matt would be nowhere to be found when he arrived at the spot they'd agreed upon. Clint thought about that simply because he didn't know Matt very well and the man certainly had plenty of reasons to take off and never be seen again.

Then there was another part in Clint's mind that was certain he'd meet up with Matt again. Clint couldn't quite put his finger on why he thought that way, but he did. In fact, that part of his mind was even stronger than the first one.

After tussling with those two conflicting trains of thought, Clint put them aside so he could focus on the task at hand. He knew there was only one way for him to be certain which of those two possibilities would be the one to win out. He simply had to ride ahead and see which of them took place.