Everett Brooks and the Dodge City Renegade: Part 2
Storm clouds over the Hollow.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
I'm a dead man walking here
But that's the least of all my fears
Barton Hollow, The Civil Wars
Kneeling in the dirt, the expression on Everett Brooks’ face was inscrutable. Inside, however, his emotions swirled like the dark storm clouds roiling overhead. There were three dead bodies on his doorstep, and Caroline was missing. Behind the crouched gunslinger, Duncan MacTavish sat astride his muscular horse, his bearded face a mask of concern and anxiety.
“What do you think?” the Scotsman finally asked.
“Dead no more than a day. These two here are the Skinner twins, Earl and Melvin.”
“You know them?”
“Not enough to tell them apart. Only met ‘em a time or two. They’re big time rabble rousers out of Dodge City. Local authorities won’t touch them cause their daddy’s some swingin’ dick land baron.”
“You don’t mean to say their father is Jack Skinner, do you?” Duncan MacTavish asked, his brow creased with worry.
“The very same. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve been in talks to purchase quite a few heads of cattle from him. They say his stock is the best west of the Mississippi.”
“Well, I imagine the fact his boys were killed on land what belongs to you might complicate matters.”
“Your glibness, as ever, is appreciated, Everett,” the Scotsman retorted in annoyance. “So how do you know them?”
Everett Brooks shrugged. “They wanted to join the Riders a few years back. Matter of fact, it was right after the train incident. Amos was acquainted with them some way or another. I wouldn’t take ‘em. Wasn’t long after that a cavalry patrol from Fort Dodge showed up on our doorstep.”
“And you think these Skinner boys sold you out to the local garrison?”
“To my mind it’s the only way makes sense they could’ve found our camp,” Everett said pensively. “I always meant to go back and settle that score. Looks like Teddy’s done it for me.”
“Poor Teddy. I wonder how he got mixed up in all this.”
Everett Brooks got to his feet and stared hard in the direction of Heaven’s Hollow. “Let’s find out.”
Torrents of rain fell from the sky in relentless sheets, churning the streets of Heaven’s Hollow into sodden quagmires. Townspeople fled indoors, waiting for the downpour to pass over.
Deputy Jake Miller, a grizzled veteran of the Texas Rangers, watched with wary eyes as two waterlogged riders cantered slowly towards the jail, a third horse in tow, and what was clearly a dead body draped over the animal’s back.
“What the hell happened to Teddy?” the deputy growled in a voice composed of pure gravel.
“Nice to see you too,” Everett Brooks countered as he and Duncan MacTavish dismounted and took shelter on the jailhouse porch. “You got any coffee?”
“In there.” Jake motioned to where the tin coffee pot was warming on the woodstove, then blocked the doorway before Everett could get past him. “But first, you’re gonna tell me what happened to Teddy.”
Everett’s eyes flashed in reflexive anger at the antagonistic move, but he quickly composed himself. “We were hoping you could tell us, Jake. We found him and two others dead in front of my cabin. You know anything about that?”
“No, I sure as hell don’t. Who were the other two?”
“The Skinner twins. Heard of them?”
“Anyone who’s ever been within a hundred miles of Dodge City’s heard of the Skinner boys. Never would’ve guessed they were so close to the Hollow,” Jake mused.
“The bodies have been there since yesterday, and something brought Teddy out to my ranch.” Duncan MacTavish joined the conversation. “Can you think of any reason he would’ve gone there?”
Jake pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in thought. “Well, when I was on my way in to report for duty yesterday, I did see Teddy conversing with a couple of cowpunchers I didn’t recognize.”
“You remember what they looked like?” Everett asked intently. The deputy shook his head.
“They rode off before I could get a good look. But I do remember one of ‘em looked like a first shirt, and the other was an Injun. Comanche, I’d wager. Anyhow, when I got here, Teddy mumbled about somethin’ he had to take care of, and off he went. Ain’t seen him again ‘til you two rode up just now with him dead in the saddle.”
Duncan glanced at Everett. “Does that sound like anyone you know?”
“Do you have any idea how many cavalrymen out there would like five minutes alone with me? All three of us put together couldn’t count that damn high.” Everett rejoined caustically. He quivered with rage. “These sons of bitches took Caroline. They killed Teddy. And what’re we doing? We’re here squawking about it like a gaggle of gossipin’ old women!”
“Everett, I understand you’re upset. But in order to figure out where these men are, we first need to figure out who they are.”
“I’m not upset,” the gunslinger whispered malevolently, “I’m ready to kill.”
It was at that moment, with the torrential rain having eased off somewhat, that the meek clerk from the telegraph office ascended the jailhouse steps and, with trembling hands, thrust a scrap of paper towards Jake.
“What’s this?” the deputy barked.
“You’ll want to see this, sir. Since Sheriff Freeman is…indisposed.” the clerk’s gaze flickered nervously to Teddy’s corpse still draped over his saddle.
“Well, what’s it say?” Everett demanded.
Jake Miller cleared his throat and began to read the hastily scribbled words:
Mr. Jack Skinner:
Did not find E.B. He will come to us. Will need reinforcements. Regret to inform you sons are dead. Send Regulators next available train.
R.G.
The deputy looked up and scowled at the clerk. “How long ago did you take this down?”
“A man came in when the storm first started. As soon as the weather let up, I brought it over.”
Everett grabbed the clerk by the collar and yanked the squirming man towards him. “Who sent this?! What did he look like?!”
“I don’t know who he was! I’ve never seen him before!” the hapless fellow yelped. “But he wore a buffalo coat to keep the rain off him, a slouch hat…and a patch over his left eye.”
Pistol Pete Crosby, known to most of the townspeople in Heaven’s Hollow as Rudabaugh Jenkins, took a drag off the hand rolled cigarette perched between his lips and let out a low whistle.
“Caroline disappeared, and Teddy killed? You two go out of town for a couple days and everything goes to Hell.”
He was sitting with Duncan MacTavish and Everett Brooks in the Scotsman’s office of his saloon, The Scotsman’s Hall. Everett Brooks threw back a shot of whiskey, pulled out the telegraph clerk’s paper from his pocket, and handed it to Pistol Pete.
“What do you make of this?”
“Damn! The Skinner boys’re dead on top of everything else?! What have you got yourself mixed up in, Everett?”
“Forget all that. What does it tell you?”
“That Jack Skinner himself is gonna be gunnin’ for your ass.”
Everett rolled his eyes in aggravation. “Always did have to spell everything out for you, Pete. What’s it say about the Regulators?”
“That they’re comin’ by train.”
“And what’s the nearest railroad town to Heaven’s Hollow?”
“River City.” Realization dawned on Pistol Pete. “Which is where them fellas what took Caroline will be waiting.”
“Exactly. You ready for a good old fashioned bushwhack, Pete?”
“Hell yeah! Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
“I’m coming along as well,” Duncan MacTavish spoke up, to the surprise of both Everett and Pete.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Everett hedged. “I know you got that fancy six shooter in your belt” -he nodded at the Colt .45 with the ivory grip and nickel plated frame holstered on Duncan’s hip- “but Pete and I are experienced gunhands, and we’re going against hardened killers.”
“Now, see here, laddie,” the Scotsman retorted indignantly. “I fought in your War Between the States! And, before that, I fought in Crimea! I know how to shoot. I know how to kill. And, odd as it may seem given the nature of our…relationship, Caroline is like a daughter to me, and I want to see her back safe and sound just as much as you do!”
“It’s been two days. How come you ain’t at least tried to escape yet?”
Caroline, sitting close to the blazing fire in the dugout’s small hearth, looked at Randall Gibson with barely disguised contempt. “Close the door, would you? You’re letting the cold night air in.”
Randall and Red Knife had her sequestered in the shelter of an old miner’s camp in the Bighorn Mountain foothills a few miles west of River City. At the moment, it was just her and the one eyed sergeant. Red Knife had left the camp earlier that day.
“And here I thought you used to be enamored with me,” Randall quipped as he sat down next to her.
“That was a long time ago.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Year and a half ain’t so long if you ask me.”
“Why is it that men think they’re entitled to a girl’s affections for the rest of their lives? It’s been damn near two years since the last time I saw you! We aren’t in Dodge City, this isn’t Moxie’s, and I don’t have to pretend to enjoy being with you! You kidnapped me. Stole me away from the man I love.”
“Everett Brooks,” Randall spat in disgust. “That son of a bitch.”
“What do you got against Everett, anyway? Why go to all this trouble?”
“Because of this!” The cavalryman jabbed his finger into the patch over his missing eye.
“What’s Everett have to do with your bum eye?”
“Everything.”
Afterword: To enhance the impact of this story, listen to the song below after you read.
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Talk about stoopid.
Kidnap Caroline, hunting for Everett, but don't leave any forwarding address or a note for him.
How do they expect to find him? How did they figure he'd know who they were?
I like your style, I was only grousing about the stupid outlaws.
This felt tense, like the build up of "High Noon" or "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance". I can't wait to read more.