FOUR
The following morning, Nettie had had another visitor. "Mitch Watson was just here," she told Vin and Casey when they rode in for lunch. "He was telling me that the Triple Bar and some other ranches have been losing stock. He just came to warn me to keep a lookout. Casey. I think you had better stay close to the house for the next few days until the rustlers are caught or move on.""But, Aunt Nettie, we can't afford to lose any cattle," Casey protested.
"Yer aunt's right, Casey. Rustlin's a hangin' offence , so men like that ain't goin' to be too particular about whether they shoot a man or a woman," Vin said. Casey pouted and opened her mouth to protest, so he hurriedly added, "And I's sure Nettie will feel a lot safer havin' someone around the house with her."
Casey privately doubted that the tough old woman was at all concerned for her own safety, but then the happier though occurred, 'I suppose it could be that Vin's just too shy to say he wouldn't want me in danger because I've come to be so important to him.' She was not at all sure that that was the case, but she could not help hoping it was so. However, whether it was the situation or not, she felt it was a ridiculous thing to expect her to stay at the house and had no intention of doing so, especially if Vin was likely to be in danger himself.
+ + + + + + +
Late the very next afternoon, Vin was out checking stock, on the most isolated part of Nettie's property, when his keen eye caught sight of a small column of smoke barely visible against the darkening sky. Without hesitation he rode to check it out.
He expected to find a traveller, who had elected to stop for an early evening meal and was somewhat taken aback by the sight that met his eyes. However, always cautious, he headed to a small scrub covered hill to use it as a vantage point to check what was going on.
He slipped quietly from Peso's back, but did not tether him. He wanted the horse to be free to come to him if he needed it.
Then he edged his way silently along the hillside, until he was in a position to see the source of the smoke.
'Hell, rustlers!' he thought, as he looked down upon the five men standing beside a makeshift corral. 'And in daylight. Cocky bastards.'
He knew he had to do something as Nettie could ill afford to lose any stock. There was no point in going back to the ranch-house for assistance, as he did not want to involve either of the women, and going to the neighbouring Triple Bar Ranch was no option either, as the men could be long gone by the time he got back with help. No, he would just have to chance it by himself.
He raised his Winchester to his shoulder and took careful aim. He knew that he would have been justified in shooting to kill since he had caught the rustlers in the act. Given the odds that would be the sensible course of action.
Unfortunately, as his finger started to squeeze the trigger, a vision of Chris Larabee popped into his mind. The gunslinger was proud of the fact that he always gave his foes an even break and never back shot anyone. Vin knew that Chris would not have done what he was about to do and would not approve of it.
'Damn ya, Larabee,' he thought, lowering the weapon, 'what business is it of yours what I do?'
However, the vision continued to look at him, its disapproving, yet sorrowful, green eyes piercing his soul.
Cursing his weakness, Vin gave in. He raised the Winchester once more and fired a warning shot that sent the iron spinning transferred the full-length rifle to his left hand and drew his mare's leg.
The five men spun around to observe the slight buckskin-clad form approaching them, mare's leg at the ready.
One man made a slight move towards his holster. He cried out in shock as Vin's mare's leg barked and the said holster parted company from his belt. "Leave it!" Vin ordered. "Lessen ya want to lose that hand."
"I thought ya said the place was occupied only by an old woman and a girl?" Grant Masters hissed, as the tracker neared them.
"It is! I dunno who the hell he is. An interfering neighbour or some such I reckon," Ian Bryant opined.
"Well, he's gonna be sorry he stuck his nose in," Larry Jones whispered, sliding a derringer from his sleeve and palming it, before raising his hands.
Just then a girl's voice called, "Vin, I'm here! I'll help!"
"Casey, stay back!" Vin ordered. Keeping five men covered was going to be tricky enough without worrying about the headstrong girl.
However, the same spirit that had led Casey to disobey her aunt and follow Vin in the first place urged her forward. Ignoring the tracker, she rode right up to the men.
"Casey, get back!" Vin repeated. Hell, apart from the one who had lost his holster, the men still had their guns.
"But I can help," she insisted. With that, she started to swing down, the action distracting Vin enough for Jones to chance it. He hurriedly lowered his arms and tried to bring the derringer to bear on the sharpshooter.
Seeing the movement, Vin dropped and fired, taking Jones through the throat. As he fell the derringer went off, skimming across Casey's horse's nose. The animal panicked and sidled into Vin, while Casey, halfway out of the saddle, fought to remount and control the animal at the same time.
As the horse barged into him, Vin staggered and nearly fell, dropping the mare's leg. Bryant seized his chance and flung himself at the tracker before he could bring the full-length Winchester to bear, forcing him to the ground, dangerously near the animal's hooves. The two rolled backwards and forwards, punching, kicking and swearing. "Give us a hand, ya lazy bastards!" Bryant complained, gasping as a particularly vicious punch from the tracker took him in the ribs.
Two of the outlaws moved to assist their friend, piling into the melee. One tried to grab Vin's legs and receive a boot in the crotch that doubled him over.
"Vin!" Casey screamed, as she watched, helpless to do more than try to keep her mount from trampling him.
"Get out of here, Casey!" Vin shouted. He knew he had no real chance against the men, but hoped to buy the girl enough time to make her escape.
She hesitated and Masters grabbed hold of her, wrenching her away from the skittish horse and pinning her against him with one arm round her throat, while gripping his rifle with the other. She struggled, but the big man was far too strong and simply tightened his grip until she feared she was going to blackout.
Meanwhile, the tracker was still holding his own against the three men, much to their watching leader's disgust. Finally, he simply fired his rifle a couple of times to bring the fight to an abrupt halt. "Hell, Grant," Bryant complained, "what did ya do that for? I thought we were under attack."
"Looked like you boys needed a hand," Masters commented sarcastically, while holding his gun trained on Vin. "Looked like one kid might take out all three of ya. Yer goin' to regret interferin' with us, boy."
"Ya ain't plannin' to kill him, are ya?" Toby Hill questioned. "I ain't havin' no part in that."
"Me neither," Bryant said. "The kid could have killed me earlier, but went for my holster instead."
"No, I've got something else in mind." He turned to Vin and ordered, "Get yer jacket and shirt off. C'mon, do as I tell ya or I just might have to hurt yer girlfriend a bit more. No! Stay on yer knees," he instructed, as Vin made to get up."
"Whatcha gonna do, Grant?" Neville Rogers questioned eagerly, as the tracker complied. Having been kicked by Vin, he was not nearly so concerned about what their leader might have planned as the other two men were.
I'm gonna give him a little memento of this occasion," Masters said. He grinned nastily. "He won't be in such a hurry to get involved in other people's business again. Here, Bryant, ya take the girl!" He released Casey and gave her a hard shove in the outlaw's direction.
Casey stumbled and nearly fell, but recovered and tried to run. However, in half a dozen long strides, Bryant had hold of her. "Keep still, missy," he breathed into her ear. "The boss'll hurt ya too if ya don't behave yerself."
Masters smiled nastily as he removed the branding iron from the fire. "Okay, get down on yer stomach, boy, and don't move or I'll use the iron on yer girlfriend's pretty face."
Vin had no choice, but to obey. He lay down and waited, trying to prepare himself for the pain to come. Masters deliberately hesitated, watching the muscles tighten in Vin's back as he fought to lie still. Then he thrust the iron against Vin's right shoulder.
It was like having a red-hot poker sunk deep into his shoulder. The tracker could not suppress a scream of agony, but struggled to retain consciousness. He could not afford to pass out, welcome though oblivion would be as an alternative to the excruciating agony, as he had to stay awake to try to save Casey.
The men released him and he rose to his hands and knees, gasping at the dreadful burning pain.
"Now what?" Hill asked.
"We're out of here. The ranchers are startin' to put on extra patrols so I had intended this to be one of our last jobs. We'll take these steers to the canyon and drive out our whole herd tonight."
Just then a harsh voice shouted, "Drop ya guns, yer surrounded!"
The two rifle shots that Masters had fired had been heard by a group of Triple Bar riders on the lookout for the rustlers.
However, the outlaws knew they had nothing to lose. Their crime was a hanging offence and they had been caught red-handed. So, instead of complying with the order, all dived towards their horses, while pulling revolvers.
Bryant released Casey, with an urgent, "Get down, girl!" Then he ran for his horse, only to fall as a bullet creased his skull.
Before Casey could comply, Masters grabbed her arm. "C'mon, girl, yer my ticket outta here," he snarled, dragging her towards his horse. "Mount up!" he ordered, gesturing with his revolver.
Vin knew he could not let the man take Casey. He staggered to his feet. "No, take me," he appealed.
"Sorry, kid, ya ain't my type," Masters replied and turned his gun on Vin.
Realizing that the man was about to kill Vin, Casey knocked his arm. It was a good try, but Masters still managed to pull the trigger. The bullet tore into Vin's already abused shoulder, the white fire agony of impact bearing him backwards to the ground.
Unable to spare the time to check the results of his shot, Masters bundled Casey across the saddle and swung up behind her, managing to keep his gun against her the whole time.
Meanwhile, the Triple Bar riders watched helpless to intervene. They had shot Hill and Rogers down, but dared not chance a shot at Masters lest he shoot Casey.
Masters put spurs to his mount and rode hard. However, he knew his horse would not go far carrying a double burden and he decided his best bet was just to dump the girl and ride.
Accordingly, after a mile or so, reaching a wooded area that afforded concealment, he slowed and simply pushed her off. Then he was off without a backward glance.
Casey landed hard, but was lucky enough to escape with only bruises. Winded, she lay where she had fallen gathering her breath. A few minutes later, the two Triple Bar men, who had been dispatched to shadow the fleeing pair, reined up alongside her. "Are you okay, Miss Casey?" one asked, as both hurriedly dismounted.
"Y-Yes," she gasped.
"What do you reckon we should do, Jim?" the man asked, as he helped her up.
"We'll have to take Miss Casey back home. I don't think it'd be a good idea for one man to go after that bastard alone. In any case, night's setting in so it'll be hard to follow him. No, let's let the law go after him, we aren't paid enough for that."
Thus, they abandoned the pursuit and rode back to rejoin the others.
+ + + + + + +
Meanwhile, Joey Connors had ripped up one of the dead outlaw's shirts into a makeshift bandage for the tracker and was having to physically restrain Tanner from trying to go after Casey. "No, Vin, you lie there," he insisted, pushing him down as he tried to sit up. "The boys are following him and you're in no shape to go after him. We'll be taking you back to Mrs Wells' place once Kel has got these scum organized."
The foreman, Kelvin Brough, was busy tying the bodies of the three dead outlaws over their horses, having secured the surviving man.
"Please, Joey, I's gotta go after her. I cain't face Nettie without Casey. And that bastard'll hurt her. Please!" Vin begged. He tried to rise again, only to be restrained by Connors' strong arms.
"No, Vin! Keep still! You're losing enough blood now. Larabee will have my hide if I let you go gallivanting across the countryside."
"Yer not scared of him, are ya?" Vin asked, deliberately scornful.
Connors grinned. "It won't work, Vin," he replied. "Any man would be a fool not to be wary of Chris Larabee and so you can't shame me."
"Damn ya!" He was hurting so much that all he really wanted to do was lie down and die, but he couldn't do that, not until he had seen Casey safe. Couldn't these idiots understand that?
"You can cuss all you like, but I'm not letting you up until we're ready to head for Mrs Wells' place. And don't try to punch me either," he added, observing the dangerous glint in the tracker's eye, "you couldn't beat me on a good day. Come on, Vin, be reasonable!"
"Why should I when ya ain't?" the tracker retorted, pouting.
"How are you going, Kel?" Joey called, choosing to ignore the tracker. He liked Vin a lot, although not in the way Larabee suspected, and too much not to be prepared to fall out with him if it was in the tracker's best interests to be thwarted.
"I'm ready," Kel responded, "and I reckon I've timed it well. Look!" He pointed at the two approaching horses. "The boys are comin' back and Jim's got Casey up before him."
"She look all right?" Vin questioned urgently.
"Too far to tell, but she looks okay to me."
"Let me see! Damn ya, Joey, let me see!"
"Just slow down, Tanner, and let me help you," Connors scolded, putting a supporting arm around him and drawing him to his feet. "Now, just lean back against me or I'll have you flat on your back again," he warned.
Vin could not have argued even if he had wanted to do so. His head was spinning, there was a swimming mist before his eyes, he felt sick and his shoulder was a fiery torment. Had it not been for Connors' strong arms, he would have fallen. Gritting his teeth, he willed himself not to faint.
"Happy now?" Connors asked, preparing to lower him. He could feel the lithe body shaking and could see blood already seeping through the rough bandage.
'S'pose so," Vin gasped, submitting. He could not bring himself to admit that he had been unable to focus clearly enough to recognize any of the approaching riders.
A short time later, he was relieved to hear Casey's voice, in spite of her ridiculous question, as she bent over him. "How are you feeling, Vin?" she asked.
"Are you okay, Casey?" he queried, electing to avoid her question.
"Just a few bruises," she assured him.
"We're going to take Tanner to your aunt's place," Kel said. "Our bosses' spread is closer, but there's not that much in it and it seems more sense to move towards town. Then Joey'll go and fetch the doc and sheriff."
"C'mon, Vin," Joey said, "I'll take you up in front of me."
"I'll go on Peso," the tracker replied stubbornly.
"You'll never stay on," Joey argued.
"Yeah, I will. I ain't ridin' with anyone."
"All right, Tanner, but you'll be sorry," Connors warned. "You'd better let me give you a leg up at least."
"Okay, iffen ya must," Vin said as though making a major concession, though fully aware that the chances of him being able to mount Peso unaided were virtually nil.
Once astride, he clung there with silent determination, battling pain and nausea. "Sssseee, I'm okay," he slurred.
Joey shook his head. Buck Wilmington had told him how stubbornly the tracker guarded his independence and refused to admit to any infirmity unless forced to do so. He figured after a bit of jolting the tracker would be forced to concede defeat.
However, he had reckoned without Tanner's determination. Although sagging in the saddle and white with strain and pain, somehow Vin rode on.
Indeed, they were within a few hundred yards of the homestead, when Vin finally moaned and collapsed. Joey made a grab for him, but was unable to stop his fall. The tracker hit the ground hard and lay still.
Connors flung himself to the ground and scooped the slighter man up into his arms. He handed him up to Brough and they rode on.
Once they reached the house, Nettie took charge and had them carry Vin up to her bedroom. Then Joey got a fresh horse and headed for Four Corners.
+ + + + + + +
"They're here!" Casey called, as the horses thundered into the yard, two riders swinging down and running for the house.
Chris Larabee and Nathan Jackson hastened into the house, while JD Dunne, Buck Wilmington and Joey Connors tended to the horses.
Connors glanced after the gunslinger. He was not sorry to part company with him. The man seemed to have taken him in aversion for some reason and had reacted most oddly towards him in town.
He had gone to alert Jackson first of all and then to see JD. Buck had been lounging in the sheriff's office and had immediately said he would accompany the kid, but had added that he had better get Larabee too.
Connors had pointed out that there was only one prisoner and three bodies to collect, so a third man was hardly necessary. However, Buck had simply responded, "I suggest ya don't try tellin' Chris to stay home."
In minutes he was back with the gunslinger. Chris took one look at Joey and snarled, "Connors! It'd have to be you!"
Taken completely aback, since to his knowledge he had never done anything to offend Larabee, Joey had stared at him in shock.
JD had intervened. "Joey says he and some other Triple Bar riders went to investigate a couple of rifle shots and found the rustlers they'd been looking for. Somehow the bastards had managed to get hold of Casey and Vin. Joey says she's okay."
"Yeah, well Buck says Vin ain't, so we ain't got time to stand around yappin'," Larabee snapped. "I've seen Ezra and told him to mind the jail. Let's go!"
"We've gotta wait for Nate," Buck reminded him.
"He'll catch up."
Fortunately, the healer appeared as they were saddling up.
A breakneck ride had followed, with the gunslinger apparently stone deaf to all Nathan's warnings that they would be no use to the tracker if an accident occurred.
So now Connors stood and pondered Larabee's behaviour. Sure everybody knew he had a special affinity with the tracker, and Joey had always liked Vin very much himself, but the normally calm and cool gunslinger seemed to be in a state bordering on panic. Indeed, he was almost like a parent rushing to a beloved child's bedside or a lover to ... No, it could not be! And yet ... He shook his head at the ridiculous notion and turned to the task of caring for his horse.
"Where is he?" Larabee demanded abruptly, as and Nathan entered the house.
"Upstairs in Aunt Nettie's room," Casey replied.
Nathan moved for the stairs. Larabee went to follow, but the foreman of the Triple Bar moved to intercept him. "The boys have got a prisoner and a couple of bodies out back," he said. "Do ya want to see 'em?"
"After I've seen Tanner," Larabee replied, pushing past the man, and following Jackson.
The door to Nettie's room was open and she was sitting by the bed anxiously watching over an unconscious and deadly pale Vin Tanner.
Nathan hurriedly set his bag down on the nearby table and reached for the blanket covering Vin.
"It's his right shoulder," Nettie said. "The bullet's still in there."
"Has he been unconscious since it happened?"
"No, seems the damned fool insisted on trying to ride that horse of his and fell off on the way home," Nettie replied, the cuss word, which would have earned Vin a severe rebuke had he used it in her presence, showing just how worried she was. "He's lost a fair bit of blood."
"Okay, while he's out to it, I'd better get to work," Nathan said briskly.
"The water in that jug's fairly cold now, but was boiled, and I've got more on the stove. I've been cutting bandages."
"Looks like you're well organized," Nathan smiled. "I could do with you in my clinic."
"I expect it's almost a full time job looking after this dratted boy," she said, the fond expression on her face belying the harsh words.
"It most certainly is," Nathan replied, while gently removing the temporary dressings Nellie had applied. "Mind you, if he'd follow my instructions, the worry and workload would be halved. I reckon he'd heed you more than me."
"I'd take a switch to him if he didn't."
"That's an idea! I hadn't thought of trying that. Chris, could you just keep a hold of his other shoulder just in case he comes round while I'm probing."
A few minutes later, Jackson was holding the offending object. "Well, at least, that was easier than most of the tasks you all give me," Nathan commented to Chris. "Right, I'll just put a few stitches in."
That done, he turned to Larabee again. "Could you raise him up a bit, Chris, so I can get it bandaged The gunslinger settled himself on the side of the bed and carefully pulled Vin up towards him. "Yes, that's good. Hell!"
"What's the matter, Nate?" the gunslinger demanded urgently.
"Look at his back! Look what those bastards have done to him."
"What is ..."
"I'm sorry!" Nettie interrupted. "I meant to tell you, but I was so worried about the gunshot wound that ..."
"Tell me what's wrong!" Chris demanded his heart in his mouth, unable to see what they were looking at.
"They've used a running iron on him. He's got a very nasty looking burn on his right shoulder blade. Hell, that must have hurt!"
"Casey, said the gang's leader did it," Nettie supplied. "Apparently the man ordered Vin to submit to it on the threat of hurting her."
"That bastard is history," Larabee gritted. "Nate, do ya reckon Vin's gonna be okay?"
"Yes, though very sore for a bit."
"Right, then as soon as ya've got him bandaged, I'm after the bastard."
Nathan's eyes met Nettie's. Both knew the outlaw was as good as dead. Nothing would stop Larabee in that mood.
A few minutes later, the gunslinger was downstairs interrogating the one surviving outlaw.
"Who was the man that got away?" the black-clad man snarled menacingly.
Toby Hill shuddered inwardly. He had never met a man who scared him so much, but the man was a lawman, he would not harm him now that he was in custody ... would he? "I ain't known him long. I only know his first name," he lied.
"And ya ain't goin' to know me long lessen ya tell me what I want to know," Larabee retorted, fingering the butt of his revolver. "I probably don't need a name anyway 'cos sure as hell I ain't goin' to bother with a tombstone. The buzzards'll have him. They'll have ya too iffen ya ain't cooperative."
Knowing that the outlaw might be more cooperative if he realized he had some chance of surviving after his trial, Buck spoke up. "Chris," he intervened, "Casey said this guy tried to stop his boss shootin' Vin. The court might go a bit easier on him than it normally does for rustlers."
"Not if he's already dead they won't. Now ya just leave him with me for a few minutes. He's about to attempt an escape. Somewhat of a fatal error I'm afraid."
"Don't leave me with him, mister! Please!" the owlhoot appealed to Buck. He swung round to Chris. "Grant Masters!" he said. "It was Grant Masters!"
"And was will soon be the word for him," Larabee commented drily. Then he snapped, "Where's he likely to run?"
"Over the border! Purgatorio most likely."
Larabee nodded. "Okay, take him into town and lock him up, Buck."
With that he headed for his horse.
"JD!" Buck called urgently. "Come here and take charge of the prisoner quick."
Then he hurried after Larabee. "Let me go with ya, Chris," Buck appealed.
"No, it's only one man and the bastards all mine," Larabee replied. Then seeing the concern in his oldest friend's eyes, he relented slightly and patted Buck's arm. "Ya look after thin's in town for me, Buck. Don't worry, I'll be back after I've sent that bastard to hell."
"Yeah, well ya see that ya are. Vin needs ya. We all need ya."
Not at all certain that one tracker would agree with the ladies' man, but hoping like hell that it might be true, Larabee mounted his horse and galloped away.
Soon after that the Triple Bar men departed and then Buck and JD then headed back to town with the prisoner and the bodies, leaving Nathan to look after the tracker.
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