Chapter 6 #2
“Keep on riding. The ropes will hold.” Tex said nothing more, but Morgan heard a tone in his voice that set him on edge.
He did as Tex asked and kept moving. But he moved a little faster.
The stretch they’d ridden in on from Pa’s place was almost all solid stone.
It was tough to follow a trail up here, especially in the night.
Yet it was impossible to be as careful as they needed to be with all the horses, and surely they were leaving evidence of their passage behind.
The Duncans would find them now, but they were afoot, so they’d leave the gang far behind if they departed the cabin right away.
As they approached, Morgan saw Marley sitting outside.
His leg was extended in front of him, and he was holding a plate in his hand as he watched them approach.
Morgan saw him turn toward the door from where he sat, and then Owen came out of the cabin, nodded at them, and smiled.
They’d started out with seven men hunting them. One was dead. Two had run off. They’d just cut that number to two and set those two afoot.
Owen ate his meal quickly, then headed for where they’d corralled their horses.
As they drew near, Morgan smelled the cooking.
Delaney had made something to eat, probably more stew.
Morgan suspected the woman carried dried herbs or spices in her meager bags.
Salt for sure, but he thought there must be something more because she made an unusually fine meal from few ingredients.
Owen had the rest of the horses saddled before Morgan rode up. He left their two prisoners on horseback. Tex came up beside him and said in a low voice, “No sense talking about it before now, but we got trouble.”
Morgan frowned, looked in the direction behind them but saw nothing. He then turned his attention to the prisoner Tex had brought in.
The day was more than half gone when Tex said, “We need to keep moving.”
“I agree it’s best to push on. Good to see you outside, Marley.”
Marley nodded but kept on eating, not saying anything.
Owen led their horses up. “Get some food in your belly and let’s hit the trail. Good work—you took every horse they had.”
Delaney came to the door, a gun in hand, which she kept pointed at Clive. Morgan thought her overcautious attention to the polecat showed good sense.
Morgan and Tex went inside to eat and saw Boone on his feet. Pale and unsteady but up and ready to go.
“You’re looking better, Bridger.”
“Head’s still not right, but I can sit a horse.”
“Good. Owen’s got your horse saddled.”
Boone left the cabin.
Whatever the trouble was, Tex didn’t say anything more as they ate fast, packed up the bedrolls and saddlebags, then hoisted Clive to his feet while Delaney washed up and packed the pans away.
“We brought you some company, boy.” Morgan moved him along even as Clive clutched his belly.
Clive saw their new captives and straightened, which made Owen wonder how much of his pain was an act.
Clive narrowed his eyes. “Pa?”
Pa? Morgan knew enough about the gang to know Clive’s pa was Sly Duncan, supposedly the meanest of the group. His brother Gordon was bad, but Sly was the brains of the organization.
Clive’s eyes slid to the other prisoner. “Stella?”
Morgan felt like he’d been slammed into a stone wall. He whipped his head around to glare at Tex, who was mounting up.
“You captured a girl?”
Tex tugged the front of his hat.
Morgan glared at Clive. “A girl is part of the Duncan Gang?”
“She’s my sister.”
The youngster managed to work the gag out of her mouth. “Your big sister, Clive, and don’t you forget it!”
Morgan heard the female voice, and now in the sunlight, he noticed her long lashes and fine-boned face. He knew then she was absolutely a girl . . . well, a young woman more like.
“And you caught Pa?”
“If this trip takes long enough, we’ll have your whole family hog-tied and draped over our horses. We almost grabbed them last night. Probably could have if we didn’t mind a gunfight. There’s only two of ’em left.”
“Two? There should be more than that.” Clive sounded peeved.
“Beau and Macon rode off. They knew we were riding into trouble,” Stella said.
“They quit on the family when they were supposed to be saving me?”
“Yep.” She said it like she enjoyed snipping at him. “I tried to talk the family into quitting this fool’s errand and riding on to Cheyenne to try and talk you out of that hanging. Only Macon and Beau were smart enough to ride off.”
“I told you we had trouble,” Tex said.
“You bashed a woman over the head?” Delaney scowled at Tex, clearly disapproving. Morgan wondered if after she’d thought about it for a while, she’d decide that, man or woman, if you rode with a bunch of bloodthirsty outlaws, you might expect to get bashed over the head from time to time.
“I’ve never heard of a woman being part of a gang of outlaws.” Morgan shook his head as he tossed Clive onto horseback and lashed his hands to the saddle horn.
Owen took the time to get Boone boosted into his saddle.
“I want to sit up, too,” Stella Duncan demanded.
“It’s time to stop jawing and get on our way.” Owen mounted up. “I want these varmints locked up in a nice sturdy jail as soon as possible. One where they can watch as a gallows is being built outside the jail window.”
Sly was still unconscious. Or maybe he was faking it. Only a fool would trust anything about Sly Duncan. But more than his suspicion of Sly, Morgan trusted the knots in those ropes.
Tex dismounted, went to Stella Duncan’s side, got her down off the unsaddled horse, and shifted her to sit up on Stan’s saddled one. With her hands securely tied, he now bound them to the saddle horn.
Morgan considered their group. Boone was on horseback, pale but eager to get going.
Marley had somehow gotten into his saddle without asking for help or uttering so much as a groan.
Stella and Clive were sitting upright. Sly was still draped across a saddle.
Morgan sighed, moved to his horse, and was soon astride.
They set out on the trail, along with the saddle string of extra horses.
Three prisoners. Two men led, tied end to end, with one headed up by Morgan, the other by Tex.
Five honest folks. A couple of them were pretty seriously injured.
Though the outlaws were under control, the odds were not great that the Marshals wouldn’t encounter more trouble.
Morgan saw Delaney staring at the mound of dirt that marked Stan’s grave as they rode by. Her eyes were somber as she looked to Owen. He knew they were all in full agreement that whoever had killed Stan needed to be punished for what they’d done.