Those Jensen Boys! (22 page)

Buckhorn sat in a wing chair with his right ankle cocked on his left knee, wondering if Rose was going to show up, or if Eagleton had sent word for her not to come to the hotel seeing as he was well on his way to being drunk, having guzzled down the brandy at a pretty rapid pace.

The gunslinger shook his head just slightly. He couldn't very well ask the boss, he thought, not without possibly making his boss wonder why he was so interested in Rose's plans.

Eagleton was still muttering about the Jensens and the Corcorans as he paced, drank, and smoked. He stopped short when a knock sounded on the door.

Rose,
Buckhorn thought, then realized the knock was curt and peremptory, not feminine at all. He was already getting to his feet when Eagleton jerked his head toward the door.

Buckhorn put his left hand on the butt of his gun, then realized that with his right arm in the sling, he couldn't hold the gun with one hand and open the door with the other. He asked harshly through the panel, “Who is it?”

The answer came back, “Jacob Tanner.”

Buckhorn turned his head to look at Eagleton and raised an eyebrow inquiringly. Eagleton made a curt gesture indicating that the gunfighter should open the door.

He holstered his gun and did so, stepping back so the railroad man could come in.

Tanner brushed past him with barely a glance and confronted Eagleton, asking with a glare, “What the hell is going on over here in Palisade, Sam?”

Buckhorn quietly shut the door behind the railroad man.

“What do you mean?” Eagleton responded with a menacing rasp in his voice.

“I mean, you were supposed to have everything under control. This is your town, isn't it? You said you wouldn't have any trouble taking over the stagecoach line and getting that right-of-way, but Corcoran's still holding out and causing trouble.”

Eagleton glanced at Buckhorn as if he thought Tanner was saying too much for the gunfighter to overhear.

Buckhorn kept his face bland and expressionless as if Tanner's angry words meant nothing to him. Inside, though, Buckhorn was thinking that the Jensen kid's wild story was true . . . or at least had some basis in fact. Eagleton wanted the stage line because of the right-of-way along the road across the valley. He wouldn't need that unless he planned to continue operating the line himself . . . or shut it down and build a railroad spur.

“Everything is under control,” Eagleton assured Tanner. “Corcoran's only stagecoach is in Bleak Creek, so he can't make the next mail run. I have connections in Washington ready to move and strip him of the contract as soon as he fails to deliver the mail in a timely manner. In a couple days, Corcoran will be ruined and will have no choice but to sign over the line to me for whatever he can get.” A vicious smile touched Eagleton's lips. “It'll be a pittance, I can assure you of that.”

Tanner took out a thin black cigarillo, clamped it between his teeth, and grated out, “Maybe you should have just had him killed.” He waved a hand at Buckhorn. “The Indian could have handled it.”

Buckhorn stiffened. Eagleton caught his eye and gave a tiny shake of his head. Buckhorn forced himself to relax, but his dislike for Tanner wasn't disappearing anytime soon.

“Outright violence is dangerous,” Eagleton said. “I still have to live here, and in the new town, as well. I've tried to make it appear that any moves I've made against the Corcorans were accidents.” An edge crept into his voice as he went on. “I'm not the one who tried to bushwhack the Jensen brothers in Shoshone Gap. Really, Jacob, you should have known better. You're a businessman, a builder, not a killer.”

Tanner chewed on the unlit cigarillo. “I know. I lost my head when I saw the stagecoach coming after you'd promised it would be wrecked. I didn't know who the Jensens were then, but I knew I didn't want Corcoran getting any more help.” He sighed. “I came close to ending our problems with them right then and there, before they ever really got started.”

Buckhorn couldn't contain himself. “Close doesn't count for much in an ambush.”

Tanner glared at him and looked surprised that Buckhorn would speak up.

Eagleton said smoothly, “All right. Let's not worry about what's already happened. Where do we stand going forward?”

“Marshals Kaiser and Wheeler are still up on the mountain with the posse, searching for the Jensens and Emily Corcoran.” Tanner's lip curled in a disdainful sneer. “I don't have a lot of confidence in those two, but at least they're keeping the Jensens busy. They can't cause any more trouble for us as long as they're dodging the law. Bess Corcoran and her father are still here in town, but I don't see what they can do to hurt us. Like you said, they don't even have a stagecoach anymore.”

Buckhorn asked, “What if they deliver the mail by horseback?”

Eagleton and Tanner turned to stare at him.

The mining magnate frowned. “What are you talking about, Joe?”

“They brought the mail back from Bleak Creek by horseback last time.” As he put the idea that had just sprung into his head into words, Buckhorn saw that it made sense. “There's nothing stopping Bess from riding over there tomorrow, taking the mail from here with her, and bringing back whatever's at the depot. That would fulfill the terms of the mail contract, wouldn't it? It probably doesn't say anything about
how
they have to deliver the mail.”

Tanner took the cigarillo out of his mouth and used the other hand to scrub his face wearily. “My God. Does this travesty ever end? Every time we think we've got Corcoran backed into a corner, he finds some way out.”

“We don't know that's what they'll do,” Eagleton stalled.

“Nothing else makes sense.” Buckhorn enjoyed the way those two self-styled titans of industry were listening to him, a lowly half-breed gunfighter.

Tanner said, “He's right. We need to get hold of Corcoran and his daughter and bring them here so they can't do that.”

A worried frown creased Eagleton's forehead. “That would be kidnapping. I told you, I've been trying to avoid acting in the open.”

“Bring them in the back, keep them up here until it's too late for them to carry that mail to Bleak Creek, and it'll be your word against theirs,” Tanner argued. “Who do you think people are going to believe? The disgruntled owner of a failed business and his spiteful daughter, or the man who holds the future of this entire area in the palm of his hand?”

Buckhorn saw acceptance appear in Eagleton's eyes. The boss might not like Tanner's plan all that much, but he was willing to go along with it.

Eagleton nodded. “All right.” He turned to Buckhorn and went on. “Take two men with you. Go over to Corcoran's and bring him and the girl back here. Bring them in the back, though, and be sure you're not seen.”

With his arm hurting as bad as it was, Buckhorn would have preferred taking some more laudanum, going to bed, and sleeping for a couple days. But maybe if he did what Eagleton said, it would put an end to the standoff, he thought. “All right, boss. I'll get 'em.” He opened the door once again and left the suite.

 

 

Ace stepped back and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Bess.”

She came up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his for a long moment. When she broke the kiss, she whispered, “I was afraid I'd never see you again, Ace.” She looked around in the shadowy barn illuminated only by light from the street seeping in through the cracks around the double doors. “Where are Emily and Chance? They came back with you, didn't they?”

Ace hesitated, which caused Bess to gasp.

“They're not—”

“They're still up on the mountain. They were fine the last time I saw them. They're hiding from that posse, but I came back down to find you.” He frowned in the darkness. “What are you doing out here in the barn?”

“I was worried, and it makes me feel better to be around the horses. It always has. Nate's sleeping on the sofa in the stage line office.”

“That's good. I expected to find him in here, but I was going to get him to carry a message to you.” Ace slipped the paper from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “It's a telegram. You need to send it to the home office of the railroad when you carry the mail to Bleak Creek tomorrow.”

“The railroad . . . I don't understand.”

His hands still resting on her shoulders felt good as he explained the theory he had come up with concerning Samuel Eagleton's true motive for trying to take over the stagecoach line.

Bess nodded. “That all makes sense, I suppose. Do you think it'll do any good, alerting the railroad to what Eagleton and Tanner are doing?”

“I don't know,” Ace replied honestly. “Railroads have been known to bend a few rules to get what they want. They may prefer to look the other way about the whole thing. But it seems to be the only chance we have.”

“All right.” Bess slipped the paper into her own pocket. “I'll take this with me. Do you think Eagleton will let me get through to Bleak Creek?”

“I reckon so. If the posse doesn't catch Emily and Chance tonight, I think Kaiser and Wheeler will be watching you tomorrow, to make sure we don't try to rendezvous with you somewhere in the valley. I'm not sure Eagleton would risk sending gunmen after you under those circumstances.”

She laughed, but it had a slightly hollow sound to it. “You sure do know how to make a girl feel confident, Ace. What are you going to do?”

“I thought I'd slip back out of town and wait somewhere close by. If the posse comes back down, I'll head up the mountain to find Chance and Emily. We'll have to keep dodging the law until we find out whether or not that telegram is going to do any good.”

“That's awfully risky,” Bess said as she slid her hand up his arm. “Marshal Kaiser is a little crazy where you and Chance are concerned. He's not going to give up looking for you.”

“Well, we'll just have to steer clear of him—” He stopped short as they heard loud, angry words coming from somewhere nearby.

 

 

Eagleton had told him to take two men with him, so Buckhorn went over to the saloon, found Starkey and Byers playing poker, and told them to come with him.

Both men thought about arguing, but they could tell from the look in his eyes that he was in no mood for it. They threw in their cards and stood up.

“What's going on?” Starkey asked as they left the saloon and stepped out into the street.

“The boss has got a job for us,” Buckhorn answered curtly.

“And he put you in charge, Joe?” Byers drawled. “Hell, you've been shot.”

“I still have one good arm,” Buckhorn growled. “And it's better than either of yours.”

Both men bristled. Men who made their livings with their guns had to have a lot of pride in order to go about their business knowing that someday they would run into someone who was faster on the draw.

And on that day, more than likely, they would die.

“You can get your dander up later,” Buckhorn went on. “We don't have time for it now. Eagleton wants us to grab Brian Corcoran and his daughter and take them to his suite without anybody seeing.”

Starkey let out a low whistle of surprise. “So he's tired of messin' around, is he? Gonna just kill both of 'em and be done with it?”

“That'd be a shame,” Byers said. “Bess Corcoran's not as pretty as her sister, but she's still a nice piece of woman flesh. You reckon the boss 'd let us have a little fun with her before we finish 'em off?”

Buckhorn swallowed the bitter taste that climbed up his throat as he listened to Byers. “The plan isn't to kill them. We're just going to hold them until Corcoran fails to deliver the mail to Bleak Creek. That'll cost him his government contract and finish the job of ruining him. He won't be able to hold out against the boss after that.”

Byers made a face. “Good Lord. Times have changed, haven't they? I remember when if somebody was standin' in your way, you just hired fellas like us to wipe 'em out. Sure was a hell of a lot simpler back then.”

“I don't think the boss has got the guts to do that,” Starkey said. “He'll stoop to outright murder, but he doesn't want to get his own hands dirty doin' it.”

That was sure right, Buckhorn thought. And he was liking it less and less.

They reached the stage line office. The men standing guard out front nodded, and Buckhorn asked them, “Everything quiet?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” one of the gunmen replied. “We heard a noise behind the buildings a while ago, but when we looked there was nothin' back there. Could've been a dog or a cat, some critter like that.”

Buckhorn frowned. Anything out of the ordinary was a potential problem, and he would have preferred it if the men had found what caused the noise. But logically, they were right. It was probably just some night-roaming animal.

“You're liable to hear some other ruckus in a few minutes,” he warned the men. “The boss has sent us to fetch Corcoran and his daughter to the hotel. You'd damn well better keep that under your hats, though.”

“Sure thing, Joe,” the man agreed readily. “We don't question the boss's orders. The girl's not in there, though. I saw her go into the barn earlier this evening, and I'm pretty sure she hasn't come back out.”

Buckhorn's frown deepened. Again, something unusual. He didn't like it, I left them no choice but to deal with it as best they could.