Chapter 29
Austin stood just outside the cabin, arms crossed, his coat flapping slightly. The breeze was still cool, especially in the woods. From inside came the voices of his men, but outside, it was quiet. He didn’t like it. Austin had never liked it when things were too quiet.
They had arrived at the cabin earlier in the day, and his men were inside, preparing for a fight. There were twelve of them, if he counted himself. Those numbers should have made him feel confident, but they didn’t.
Austin lit his cigarette and took a long drag while watching the campfire. Later, they would use it to cook their food, but for now, it provided some warmth.
He had no idea when the masked men would come, but he knew that they would. He had gotten word that Jeremiah Wilson had been killed. Nobody had witnessed it, but Austin knew it was the same men. Just like with the others, they had made no attempt to hide the body.
Austin had lied to Angela, saying he was going fishing with some friends. She had no reason to think that he was lying, and he didn’t really care anyway. What he did care about was the masked men. He wanted them out of the way.
He took another drag of his cigarette as he scanned the surrounding area.
The cabin was a couple of miles into the woods.
An old trapper’s cabin that he had bought on a whim years ago.
He had never had much use for it before.
Austin had chosen for his men to gather there because of its seclusion.
There was only a narrow, overgrown path leading to it, with trees on all sides.
If the masked men found them, which Austin was sure they would, they’d come through the trees.
When Austin was done with his cigarette, he headed back inside. Maxwell was cleaning his pistol for the second time. Austin couldn’t remember a time when he had ever seen Maxwell so nervous.
“You think they’ll come tonight?” he asked without looking up.
Austin thought about it for a second before answering. “I don’t think tonight, but soon.”
“It isn’t fair,” Buck said. He was one of Austin’s newer recruits. “Twelve of us waiting on two men like they’re some sort of boogeymen.”
“They’re not boogeymen,” Maxwell stated, still not looking up from his pistol. “But they are trained, methodical, and have already killed nine of our men without getting caught.”
“They’re still just men,” Buck shot back.
“No, they’re not,” Austin said, deciding to chime in. That quieted the room. Anybody who thought these were ordinary men was fooling themselves.
That night, they ate beans and salted pork around the fire. The men were mostly quiet, having said all there was to say. Austin could tell that they were scared, and rightfully so. Fear wasn’t a bad thing; it was what kept men alive.
***
The land stretched golden and wide ahead of them.
There were brittle bushes and some scattered trees.
Spring had arrived and brought with it the first blooms of the season.
Small clusters of bluebonnets flared along the trail, and once in a while, they came across some berry bushes, starting to look alive again.
Dakota rode ahead, Riot’s hooves stirring up dust. A few feet behind her, Blade and Africa followed. It was early in the day. They had eaten breakfast before the sun rose and then got on their way.
Blade had healed remarkably well, but since he had been shot, he was acting differently.
She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something had changed.
Maybe it was the two near-death experiences.
One alone could traumatize a person; two so close together could do some real damage to a person’s mind.
He didn’t seem angry or scared, though, and he slept soundly at night.
Dakota glanced over her shoulder, causing the corner of his mouth to turn up into a smile.
No, he wasn’t angry at her; it was something else. It was almost like he wanted to tell her something but didn’t know how. Yes, that was it, Dakota thought. It was like something was bothering him, and he didn’t know how to tell her.
He was trying to act like everything was all right, but Dakota knew him too well.
He was more careful around her and hesitated before speaking.
Sometimes she would catch him staring at her, and he would quickly look away.
Dakota kept telling herself that she was probably overthinking it, but Blade had taken a bullet to the abdomen for her not too long ago.
She knew the pain still lingered. Maybe that was all it was.
She wanted to ask him, but at the same time, she wanted to give him space to deal with whatever was going on. She was so confused.
At around noon, they arrived in Sweetwater, Texas.
It was their second-to-last stop. It had been a wild ride, but Dakota was ready for it to be over.
They searched far and wide for Maxwell Barnes but once again had to resort to asking.
Once this was over, there were going to be a whole bunch of towns they could never visit again.
This time, Dakota went with Blade to ask. The saloon smelled of tobacco and stale whiskey. A few locals lounged at the tables. Nobody paid any attention to them. The barkeeper was a young man, probably in his early twenties. Dakota hoped that he had the information they needed.
Blade walked up to the bar and greeted the man. Dakota followed his example.
“We’re looking for Maxwell Barnes,” he said. “Was hoping you knew where we could find him.”
The barkeeper was way too friendly, but Dakota and Blade listened as he told them a very detailed story about the last time he had seen Maxwell.
It took a while, but when they left the saloon, they knew where Maxwell was.
Well, they didn’t know for sure, but they had a good idea.
Maxwell had told the barkeeper that he was going out of town for a while to visit a friend.
Blade and Dakota suspected that the friend was Austin.
“I guess we’re heading to Houston,” Dakota stated as they mounted their horses.
Blade nodded. “Our last stop.” He adjusted his hat and then turned to her. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”
Dakota didn’t have to think about it. “Yes,” she replied immediately.
Blade laughed at her enthusiasm. “Might as well get a good night’s sleep before starting the last leg of our adventure.”
Dakota was glad that it was coming to an end, but she was also scared. She had no idea what came next.
They checked into the only inn in town, hoping that it wouldn’t be part brothel like last time.
Dakota didn’t really care but was happy to see a family with children there instead of working women. The building itself didn’t look structurally sound and resembled a barn more than a house.
This time, their room had two single beds. Dakota felt slightly disappointed by that fact.
They were both tired and had no intention of drinking any alcohol, unlike the last time they had stayed at an inn.
Instead, they ate dinner in the dining room and then went to bed early.
The next morning, they set off early.
Regardless of what happened next, it would be over soon.