Ralph Compton Death Along the Cimarron (27 page)

The sight of Cherokee Earl with his thumb hooked in his belt near his tied-down Colt had a sobering effect on Buck Hite. “Hell, Earl, you can't blame a man for asking questions ... looking out for his own interest, can you?”

Cherokee Earl didn't bother answering him. Instead, he looked across the shadowed faces standing before him. “Like McRoy said, we're waiting for Harper and Frisco to join us. Unless something bad has befallen them, they'll be along most any time.” Nodding at Danielle, he said, “You picked up a new man?”

“Yeah,” said Buck, trying hard to clear the opium stupor from his head. “This is Danny Duggin—a good gunman. He's riding with us now.”

“Duggin,” said Cherokee Earl, touching his fingers to his hat brim. Then he said to Buck Hite, “What about the two men you sent back to check for those troublemakers?”

“They're dead,” Buck said bluntly.

“Who killed them?” asked Earl.

“Duggin killed them,” said Buck. “They jumped him on the trail, and he took them both down. That's why I hired him. If he can handle Daryl and Lon Trabough, that's good enough for me.”

Cherokee Earl took a step closer, suspiciously eying her up and down. “Duggin, huh?”

“Yep, Duggin,” she repeated, standing her ground.

“So, Duggin, just what was you doing on the trail at that time?” Earl asked.

Here stood the man responsible for Stick's death and all the other trouble she'd gone through. Danielle felt herself bristle slightly at his question. But she kept her anger in check and said coolly, “I felt a powerful urge drawing me in this direction ... must've been so's I could get up here and answer a bunch of damn fool questions—why else?”

A tense dead silence fell over the group for a moment. Then Cherokee Earl let out a short laugh, saying, “I guess that's about as straight an answer as I'll ever get out of you.”

“Just about,” said Danielle flatly. “Anything else I say would just be me looking for the kind of answer I think you want to hear.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Either you pards need me working for you or you don't.” She looked back and forth between Buck and Cherokee Earl. “It's your call.”

Cherokee Earl nodded, understanding that if this Danny Duggin had anything to hide, he sure wasn't worried about it. “Down to business then,” said Earl. “They've been moving lots of silver through this bank, but mostly in small lots from the independent mining companies. What we're waiting for is a large shipment that'll be here in two days. As soon as I get the word, you'll hear about it from me or McRoy here. Meanwhile, we sit tight, keep a man in town at all times so we'll know when to draw our men together.”

Thinking about the Waddell woman and how to get to her to save her, Danielle asked, “Shouldn't we be camped together now? It looks like that would make it easier for everybody concerned.”

“You're right, Duggin. It would,” said Earl, again eying him as if wondering what his interest might be. “But I make it a practice to keep a large body of men spread out a little before a raid. It's a practice that has served the James Younger gang and others well over the years. I'm sticking with it.” He grinned, looking from one to the other of the men. “Besides, I'm what you might call
honeymooning
right now. I need a little privacy, if you understand what I mean.” He winked.

“Sure, no problem,” said Buck Hite, still sounding a bit groggy from the opium. “So long as you drop her ankles and pull your pants on quick once you hear about that silver load.”

The men chuckled, Earl included. “Don't worry, Buck,” he said. “I've been with this woman long enough that I'm losing interest. Far as I'm concerned, you can have her once we take care of business here.”

“Much obliged, but none for me,” said Buck. “I know better than to take a woman offered to me for free. There's a catch to it somewhere.”

“You might be right,” said Earl. “If she was all that much, I wouldn't be getting rid of her. You saw right through that, Buck. Looks like you and me might be riding together for a nice long time.” His grin widened as a ripple of laughter stirred across the men. Danielle just listened, wondering how she would go about getting Ellen Waddell out of this alive.

Ellen Waddell made good time starting out, riding down the steep, winding trail toward Taos. Yet once darkness had completely enveloped the land and she began to realize she had put some distance between herself and her captors, she slowed the horse to a walk and let the animal lead the way. Coming down out of a stretch of low hills onto some grasslands, Ellen caught sight of a campfire glowing in the distance. Using caution, she approached the fire as quietly as possible, the rifle lying across her lap.

When she'd reached what she judged to be a distance of a hundred yards, Ellen stepped down from the horse and led it through low brush and over loose rocky ground. She almost held her breath with each slight sound of the horse's hooves. Reaching a stand of scrub cedars, she stopped the horse and knelt in the darkness, listening until she heard the sound of two men's voices drift across the night. After a moment she stood up silently and whispered in the horse's ear as if it understood her words. “You'll have to wait here,” she said, tying the reins to a low scrub cedar.

She moved quietly, measuring and testing every step before setting her foot down firmly on the ground. She had no idea how long it had taken her to move the few remaining yards, but when she stopped again and sank down in the cover of wild grass, she could make out the fire clearly and see the two men huddled near it, their faces obscured by their wide hat brims. The smell of hot coffee and beans made her empty stomach moan softly. She knew she had to make a decision pretty soon whether or not to announce herself or move on. Looking down at the rifle in her hands as she smelled the food and coffee, she made up her mind. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and called out, “Hello the camp,” hearing the shallow sound of her voice in the broad, empty land.

“What the hell?” Frisco Bonham's coffee cup fell from his hand at the suddenness of a shrill voice reaching out of the darkness. His right hand clasped his pistol butt, but then stopped before drawing the gun from his holster. “That's a woman's voice!” he said, lowering his voice to Dave Waddell.

“Yes, it is,” Dave replied, already recognizing his wife's voice but not yet daring to believe his ears. He stood up in the firelight, looking toward the voice. “Ellen? Ellen Waddell? Is that you? It's me, Dave!”

Frisco gave Dave Waddell a bemused look, thinking he'd just lost his mind. “Hey there, partner, you better try to get a grip on yourself—”

“Shhh,” Dave said quickly, hushing him up. “That's my wife! I know it is!”

Hearing her name called out, Ellen's first instinct was to turn and run, fearing these men were a part of Cherokee Earl's gang and that somehow Earl had informed them that she was missing. But seeing the man stand up in the glow of the fire, hearing his voice, and watching as he looked back and forth trying to locate her, Ellen gasped, “Oh my God, Dave?” Then, realizing that it really was him, she called out loudly as she began to run toward him. “Dave! Dave! Yes, it's me!”

Dave jerked his hat from his head as if to better identify himself. “Ellen! My God, Ellen!” He ran to her as she came into the firelight.

Frisco Bonham stood watching, stunned, as the two met and sank to their knees sobbing, embracing. His eyes searched the surrounding darkness. If this woman was here, it was pretty good odds that Cherokee Earl and the boys were too. He eyed the rifle that Ellen Waddell had dropped to the ground. Dirty Joe's rifle, Frisco said to himself.

When Ellen could speak, she said to her husband, “I—I thought you were dead, Dave. I had no idea ...”

“That I would be searching for you?” Dave said, finishing her words for her as he wiped his eyes. “Ellen, I've nearly gone crazy looking for you!” He nodded quickly toward Frisco, then said, “This is Frisco Bonham, one of Cherokee Earl's men. He's been leading me to Earl ... so I could come get you.”

Ellen tensed in her husband's arms, having heard Frisco's name spoken by Dirty Joe and others of Earl's men. She looked up at Frisco just as he bent down and picked up the rifle she'd dropped.

“Evening, ma'am,” Frisco said, nodding with a slight grin. He held the rifle up, looking it over. “This belongs to Dirty Joe Turley.... Ain't no way he would have given it up. So I figure you got it some way and snuck off with it.”

Ellen gave her husband a terrified look. The two rose from the ground. Dave drew the pistol from his waist on their way up. He held it pointed at Frisco as he drew Ellen tight against his side.

“It makes no difference how she got the rifle. She's here now, and that's all that—”

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” said Frisco, grinning, raising his hands chest high and waving them back and froth. “I'm with you, pard, remember? I'm the one brought you two happy young lovebirds back together!”

Dave Waddell eased his grip on the pistol and on his wife. “He's right, Ellen,” Dave said. “If it hadn't been for Frisco, I wouldn't have been here tonight.”

“Ma'am,” said Frisco, “I might be an outlaw ... but your husband will have to admit I've been a man of my word. I told him to stick with me, that I'd bring him to you. And so I did.” In a grand gesture, Frisco swept off his hat and took a short bow.

“The most important thing is we're back together now,” said Dave to Ellen.

“Yes, we're together,” Ellen said, still standing against her husband's side, “but we might not be for long if we don't clear out of here before Earl finds out I'm missing.”

“If you don't mind me asking,” said Frisco, “how did you manage to get away?” He studied Dirty Joe's rifle in his hands as he asked.

Ellen looked into her husband's eyes for support, then turned to Frisco and said bluntly, “Earl left Dirty Joe to watch me. I killed Dirty, took his rifle, and made my getaway.”

“Killed him how?” asked Frisco with a wry smile. “Dirty Joe Turley was no easy piece of work as I recall.”

“All right,” she said, tilting her head up as if telling herself and the world that she was not ashamed of what she'd done. “I gained Joe's confidence.... Then, while he wasn't expecting it, I stabbed him to death with a butcher knife.”

“Ouch!” said Frisco, still grinning. “I bet ole Dirty didn't care for that one bit.”

Ellen turned her gaze back to her husband. “But like you said, the important thing is that we're together. Now we need to get out of here quick.”

There was a questioning expression on Dave Waddell's face as he asked her pointedly, “Gained his confidence how?”

Ellen just stared at him for a second. Then, before she could respond, Frisco cut in, saying, “I don't mean to throw cold water on whatever high opinion you might have of yourself, ma'am, but if Cherokee Earl's in Cimarron, you won't have to worry about him looking for you. He's got plans for a big robbery there ... big enough that he won't let losing a woman interfere with it.”

In spite of Frisco's reassurance, Ellen looked skeptical. “I think we better get moving, Dave.”

“Sure thing,” said Dave, holding her close with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his free hand stroking her hair. “God, I've missed you so much!” Then he snapped a glance back to Frisco and asked, “Just how big is this robbery you're talking about?”

Frisco shook his head back and forth slowly as if in awe at the thought of such an amount of wealth. “It's big enough that even once it's split a bunch of ways, nobody involved will ever have to pick up another branding iron for as long as he lives ... unless he does it to light his cigar, that is.”

“Dave?” said Ellen Waddell. “What does that matter? We're leaving right now ... aren't we?”

Dave seemed not to hear her until she shook his coat sleeve. “Aren't we?” she repeated.

“Uh, yeah,” Dave said finally, snapping out of a deep train of thought. “We're both heading out of here. We're not taking a chance on Earl showing up, robbery or no robbery.”

“All right, pard,” Frisco said reluctantly. “But I've got to say, it's a damn shame, you missing out on this big job after coming all this way.”

“What is he talking about, Dave?” Ellen asked. “Why does he keep calling you pard?”

“It's a long story, Ellen,” said Dave Waddell. Dismissing her question, he turned to Frisco. “My wife's right, Frisco. She's the reason I came this far. Now that I've got her, all I want to do is return home and live in peace.” He drew Ellen even closer. “For my wife and me, this nightmare is over.”

“In that case,” said Frisco, pitching Dirty Joe's rifle to Dave Waddell, “I'll take my leave and go on to Cimarron.”

“You're not going to tell Cherokee Earl where we are, are you?”

“Of course he will,” Ellen cut in.

“No, ma'am, you're wrong there,” said Frisco. “I won't mention you two if you don't want me to. But believe me, it ain't as important as you think it is. Sure, Earl did a wrong, stealing you the way he did. But if he wasn't through with you, he wouldn't have left you in Dirty Joe's care in the first place. The fact is, if Dave showed up with me, Earl would cut him right in on this robbery and let bygones be bygones.” He shrugged. “That's just how he is ... all us outlaws, for that matter.”

“Don't take me for a fool, Frisco,” said Dave. “You mean he would still let me ride on this big job after all that's happened?”