To Reap and to Sow (5 page)

Despite the confidence Clint showed as he sat upright in the saddle and tossed a few boasts back toward Lynn, he was surprised that the two riders didn't show themselves for the rest of the day. He was even more surprised when he spent the entire next day without seeing so much as a hint of them.

Shaking the riders off his trail had been a fun diversion from a boring ride. His blood was racing for the rest of the day, which had turned to an uncomfortable anxiousness soon after. When they made camp, Clint took extra care to find spots that wouldn't be easily attacked. He stayed up as long as he could to keep watch and slept with one eye open just in case the riders decided to pay him a visit.

But they didn't get any visitors.

As they closed in on the neatly arranged streets and storefronts that were Thickett, Lynn began to act as if some of Clint's confidence had finally rubbed off on her. Rather than hang onto him for dear life, she kept her arms wrapped around him as if she was simply doing so because she wanted to.

“Another nice day,” she said.

“Don't say that.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Clint replied, “things haven't turned out so well when you've talked like that.”

“Things have worked out just fine,” Lynn told him. “We're here and it took less time than I thought it would.”

“That's because we rode like bats out of hell for most of the way.”

Clint felt a little slap against his shoulder before Lynn let out a laugh.

“You can gripe all you want,” she said. “You're not going to convince me things are anything but perfect.”

“Perfect may be pushing it a bit,” Clint said. “But I will admit the ride had its good spots.”

“You mean like last night in camp?” she whispered.

“Yeah. That's exactly what I mean.”

Thinking along those lines was enough to put a smile on Clint's face. Now that he was riding down Thickett's main street, he figured it was about time he allowed himself to let out the breath he'd been holding since he first realized he was being followed. For all he knew, Mark and the other rider had been scared off after being spotted and had given up on trying to catch up to them. Even if that wasn't the case, Clint knew it didn't do anyone any good to fuss about what other folks had in mind.

The town Clint saw didn't come close to living up to its name. Considering its name was Thickett, Clint couldn't think of a better compliment he could pay to the place.

Thickett was made up of a handful of streets arranged at nearly perfect angles. The boardwalks were straight and level, forming something close to a frame around well-maintained storefronts. Each shop was marked by a freshly painted sign and had some kind of decoration in every window. Even the sheriff's office was tucked away on a corner so as not to smudge the pretty landscape.

It was late afternoon when they arrived, so there was a fair amount of activity on the streets. In fact, Clint was surprised at how busy the place was considering its modest size. It was also a bit of a surprise since he had yet to see a saloon or gambling hall.

“Maybe you should live right here,” Clint said. “I haven't seen a town this inviting for a while.”

“I was just thinking the same thing. I wonder where someone would go to get a drink.”

Clint chuckled and turned around to say, “That's good to hear. I figured I might get in trouble by asking that question.”

Lynn winced and looked at the quiet folks watching them ride down the street. “You just might, at that.”

“So do you want to get a drink?” Clint asked. “I'm sure there's a saloon around here somewhere.”

“No. I'd rather look in on Tina.”

“Tina?”

“She's my friend who lives here,” Lynn said impatiently. “The reason why we came.”

“That's right. Her father's the farmer, right?”

Patting him on the back, Lynn said, “That's right. Now you remember. I'm amazed you get anywhere other than lost with a memory like that.”

Clint tipped his hat to a short row of men in battered overalls sitting outside of a bakery. “My memory's just fine. It's just that planning things too far in advance doesn't do me any good. Someone or something always crops up to spoil whatever I had in store for myself.”

Lynn pulled in a sharp breath. “Is that what I've done? Oh, Clint, I didn't mean to—”

“Relax,” Clint interrupted before she could get too upset. “I learned to be flexible way before I met you. And if I didn't want to help, I wouldn't have offered.”

“All right, then. I won't bring it up again.” And, just as suddenly as she'd pulled in that breath, Lynn was on to something else. “Wes's place is west of here. Or maybe northwest.”

Clint pulled back on the reins to bring Eclipse to a stop while Lynn thought things over.

“Definitely west,” she muttered. “Yes. That's it.”

“How far west?” Clint asked.

When he didn't get an answer right away, Clint asked, “You're sure this is a good friend of yours?”

“She's a very good friend. I've just never been here before.” Sliding down from the saddle, she said, “I'll get us some water and I'm sure it'll come to me.”

Clint watched her hop onto the boardwalk and approach the men lined up in front of the bakery. Even from his spot in the street, Clint could hear Lynn talk to the men in the overalls.

“Do any of you fellows know where the Petrowski farm is?”

Wes Petrowski was crawling in a pumpkin patch when Clint and Lynn rode up the road leading to his farm. The spread was actually due south of Thickett and was marked by a tall weather vane that squeaked loudly in the breeze.

At the first sound of Eclipse's hooves, Wes stuck his head up like a giant rabbit that had been caught eating a head of lettuce. He looked to be somewhere in his fifties, but could have been a decade older than that.

Like most farmers, Wes had been toughened up by the elements after spending years working in the middle of them. He wore a blue checkerboard shirt under a threadbare denim jacket. His scalp and neck had a red hue to it, which made the ring of white hair around the back of his head stand out even more. Sharp eyes glared from beneath a furrowed brow. When he stood up, Wes was brandishing a hoe like it was a two-handed weapon.

“Who're you?” Wes asked. Although the man's voice wasn't exactly threatening, the look in his eyes showed he wasn't to be taken lightly by a couple of strangers.

If Lynn took notice of the old man's eyes or the hoe in his hand, she didn't show it. In fact, she jumped down from Eclipse's back and ran up to him as if Wes was waiting for her with open arms.

“It's so good to see you!” she shouted. “I've heard so much about you!”

Wes didn't swing the hoe, but he didn't drop it either. He stood there like one of his own scarecrows, only with a more confused look on his face. Since Eclipse was facing the direction that gave Wes a clear look at Clint's holster, the old man kept his eyes pointed in that direction.

“I'm Lynn McKay,” she finally announced.

That caused Wes to change his expression as drastically as night suddenly changing to day. “You're Lynn?” he asked as he shifted the hoe to one hand and wrapped his free arm around her. “What took you so long to get here?”

“There was some trouble along the way.”

“If there's anything you need…”

Lynn chuckled at the protective tone in Wes's voice. “I'm fine. I have Clint, here, to thank for that.”

Keeping one arm draped around Lynn, Wes stepped forward to extend a hand up to Clint. “Any friend of my daughter's is a friend of mine. The name's Wes Petrowski.”

“Clint Adams,” he replied while shaking Wes's hand.

The years of working the land shone through in Wes's grip. He shook Clint's hand as if he was kicking around the idea of breaking a few bones. Unlike most powerful handshakes, this one didn't seem to have any bad intentions behind it. The hand that was doing the shaking just happened to be strong as an ox.

“I hope you didn't pay for a room in town,” Wes said. “I wouldn't have you sleep anywhere but under my roof.”

“I wouldn't want to impose.”

“Nonsense. You'll stay here and you'll have supper at my table. Tina would skin me alive if she found out I let it happen any other way.”

Clint couldn't help but smile at the farmer's rough yet amicable nature. Rather than rile the old man, Clint tipped his hat. “Much obliged. Is there a place for me to put up my horse?”

“This is a damn farm, ain't it?” Suddenly, Wes winced as if he'd been smacked on the back of his head. “Pardon the language,” he said to Lynn. “I've got more than enough space for you and your horse, Clint. Come on with me and I'll take you to the stable.”

Since everyone else was on foot, Clint swung down from Eclipse's back and led the Darley Arabian by the reins. Wes and Lynn were already several paces ahead and chattering back and forth about what had brought her all the way across Kansas. Clint looked ahead a ways and spotted a few buildings at the end of a set of ruts. It looked to be a fairly good walk, but he was in no hurry to get there. In fact, it was relaxing to just take his time and mosey for once.

Clint rarely ever got the chance to mosey.

It didn't take long before he got to like it.

Now, if only the rest of the world would forget about him for a while and let him sit still for a change.

“I swear to God I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch,” Joey muttered as he winced and got to his feet.

Lying stretched out in front of him was the horse that he'd just grown to like over the last few days. Now that horse was on its side and grunting in pain after tripping over a stump while chasing Clint.

“Are you ready to go or not?” Mark grunted. “That horse is done for.”

“No, it ain't! Don't say that!”

Mark rode over to look down at the animal. Its eyes were glazed over, and the pain was clear enough to see on its face. Letting out a breath, Mark drew his pistol and put the wounded animal out of its misery.

“There,” Mark said. “Now you can stop bellyaching about it.”

“Dammit,” Joey snarled. “I just stole that horse a week ago.”

“Then you can steal another one and we can catch up to Lynn.”

When he saw the fire in Joey's eyes, Mark tightened his grip on his pistol and aimed it in his direction. “You wanna start something with me or do you wanna take it up with the one who tripped up yer horse?”

The fire in Joey's eyes dimmed just a bit as he glanced back at the last spot in which he'd seen Eclipse.

“That's right,” Mark said, latching onto the small opening he'd created. “He was hoping to trip us up and got you.”

“We wouldn't even be out here if you weren't still stuck on that blonde,” Joey grumbled.

Seeing that the danger had passed, Mark lowered his gun and dropped it back into its holster. “It won't take long to collect her. She'll either come back with me or I'll see to it she don't keep another man's company.”

“And after that?”

“After that, we'll keep on with our own business. There's plenty to be done in these parts, and most of the lawmen don't even know us around here. Leastways, they won't as long as we stay away from Wichita.”

“That's where all this trouble started,” Joey pointed out.

“And here's where it'll end.”

“Sure. If you know where to look to find her again.”

Mark grinned. “I already know where to look. She's headed to a farm owned by a friend of hers. From there, she'll be movin' on to California. That's all she ever used to talk about.”

“Where in California?” Joey asked. “That's a big stretch of land, you know.”

“I don't know where, exactly. She talked about a few different places like San Francisco or Sacramento. That's why we need to catch up with her before she gets that far. And since I know where she'll be, that won't be a problem.”

Although Joey looked optimistic at first, that quickly faded. “What about the fella she was with? He coulda killed us both.”

“But he didn't. Not even close.” Mark spoke with plenty of steam behind his words, but wasn't able to keep it up for long. In fact, by the time he took his next breath, that steam had evaporated. “We'll have to keep an eye on him, that's for certain. But he must not be a real killer; otherwise, we'd be dead.”

“Yeah,” Joey said meekly. “I suppose that's true enough.”

“And if I know Lynn, she's got the man wrapped around her little finger. That's what she does.”

Joey nodded. “Sure as hell. I saw what she did to you.”

“Right. Now all we need to do is get to that farm, find them two and then wait for a spot to make our move.”

“What move are you gonna make?” Joey asked.

Mark seemed to be looking at something far away. He didn't even seem to hear the question for a few seconds. Finally, Joey's words made it through to him and he shook his head slowly. “Don't worry about what I'm gonna do. You just worry about backing me up.”

Just when Joey was about to throw himself behind Mark's plan, he stopped and cocked his head to one side like a dog that had just heard a strange whistle. “Wait a second. What's in this for me?”

That snapped Mark out of his faraway trance real quickly. “What do you mean by that?” he snapped.

“Just what I said. That fellow almost gunned us both down with some damn fancy shooting. If he wanted us dead, we'd both be in hell right now. I went along with you because we've seen some times together, but I don't wanna get killed just because you can't shake yourself free of this damn woman.”

As soon as those words were out of Joey's mouth, Mark was lunging forward to grab hold of him by the throat. One hand was clamped around Joey's collar, while the other hand dug straight into Joey's windpipe.

“I won't hear you speak badly about Lynn, you hear?” Mark growled.

Even though his face was turning red and it was hard for him to get a word out, Joey wheezed, “You said she was…no good. She ain't…worth dyin' over.”

“That's my goddamn business,” Mark said as he leaned in and tightened his grip. Suddenly, the viciousness in his eyes dimmed and some of the sense returned. Mark loosened his grip on Joey's throat, but kept hold of his collar. “That farmer does a good business. He's got money stashed.”

“How do you know all that?”

“Because Lynn talked about him and how well he took care of his daughter. I don't know how much he's got squirreled away, but there's something. So long as I get Lynn, you can have whatever else there is.”

Joey's eyes narrowed as he asked, “You swear?”

Mark nodded.

“Whatever money we find is mine? And you're sure there's money?”

“That's what I said, ain't it?” Mark announced. “Even if it's a hundred dollars, it's more than you got right now. All we need to do is bushwhack the man who's with Lynn and the rest is easy pickings.” Putting an edge to his voice, Mark added, “You wanna make your living as a bad man, this is a good start. You wanna crawl away just because some asshole took a shot at you, then maybe you should be a damn farmer yourself. Or maybe you could just throw on a skirt and do some cooking?”

Using both hands, Joey pushed Mark back. “I ain't afraid of no man who don't have the sand to finish a fight. Where's this goddamn farm?”