Death by Grit Page 5

  The sheriff shook his head. “Way I understand it, he lit on outta here after trying to shoot up the church. We’re lucky you’re the only one who got a bullet.”

  Jacob nodded, grateful he had gotten little Mary out of the way when he did.

  “Did you see anything?” he asked. “Anything at all? The direction, the … I don’t know.”

  He felt helpless. Stuck. Again. In the pivotal moment when his prey was almost in his grasp he had not only lost him, but he had also lost consciousness and with it any chance of further information. Jacob was furious with himself, and frustrated. He couldn’t be angry at the people of Haven. They were only trying to keep themselves safe, after all. He could, however, be angry with the sheriff.

  “Did you see what he was wearing? What his horse looked like? Anything?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Payne. We may just have to make due with knowing the man left Haven without causing any further damage.”

  “That may be enough for you,” Jacob said, angrily. “But it is not enough for me.”

  He sat up, pushed back the blanket and put his feet on the floor. It was time for Jacob to get dressed again.

  “We can agree that he left town, though?”

  “Sure did,” Sheriff Whitaker said eagerly. “West.”

  “West,” Jacob repeated.

  Assuming that was accurate, which at this point was anyone’s guess, west was still a vast open expanse of desert. He stood, pulling on his pants, and reached next for his holster and belt. He almost lost his balance, and felt a stab of pain as his torn and wounded muscles worked to help him keep his balance. But he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t rest. Jacob sat back onto the bed and reached for his boots.

  “Could you pass those to me, please, Sheriff?”

  Jacob finished gathering his belongings and getting dressed again almost in silence. He didn’t have anything else to say to the sheriff who had seemed to be thwarting him at every turn. The reverend was kind enough to gift Jacob with a shirt, as his own had been bloodied and torn. Mrs. Chadwick insisted he take with him a small cold lunch—Jacob recalled he still hadn’t eaten yet that day so he didn’t protest her generosity too strongly. He said good-bye to little Mary, made her promise to be good.

  Finally, when he had gathered all of this things, he said his farewell to the sheriff, all but begging him to notify Tucson and Owen Santos if word of Maloney came through Haven again. Jacob hated that he sounded like he was begging but he didn’t see any other way to make clear to the man the seriousness of the situation.

  Injured, frustrated, hungry, tired and weak, Jacob still had to continue on his mission. He made his way to the livery to collect Blaze and begin his hunt again.

  “You’re heading out of Haven, sir?” Andy asked, as he got the horse saddled and ready for Jacob. “S’pose there’s nothing to keep you here.”

  “That’s right,” Jacob agreed. “I’m on the trail of an outlaw, and it seems he has left town so I must too. I don’t suppose you saw or helped a man with a big bushy blond mustache in the last couple days, did you?”

  “Well, now, it just so happens that I did.”

  Jacob was shocked. Although now that he was here it made sense that the livery would have seen a new man coming to town, in his pessimism and frustration Jacob had given up hope anyone here would be willing to help him.

  “You did? Did he— Was it this man?” Jacob hastily pulled out the wanted poster and showed Andy the likeness.

  “Yes sir. That’s him. Mr. Moore he said his name was though.”

  “I don’t want to alarm you, but that’s the man I’m after.”

  “Golly,” Andy said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “He seemed so nice too. What’d you say he did?”

  “I’m not sure that’s important, seeing as he is no longer here. I wouldn’t want to scare people unnecessarily.”

  “I understand.” He nodded.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me?” Jacob asked. “The direction he went? If he said anything about his plans? Any identifying characteristic that can help me track him down.”

  “I’m not sure…” He stared off into space and scrunched up his face as though trying to remember.

  “Anything, Andy. Any detail you can give me. We never know when something is going to be useful.”

  “Well, now … Since you mention it, yes, actually, mister. Mr. Moore—uh, Maloney—had me put this blanket under the horse’s saddle. I ain’t never seen anything like it.”

  “A blanket?”

  “Yessir. A woven blanket that he told me he got from a savage.”

  “A native?” Jacob clarified.

  “Uh huh. I dunno if that was the truth or not. But I also heard him talking about Santa Fe and Austin, so maybe he got it somewhere else and just hadn’t put it on the horse yet.”

  “Can you remember what it looked like?”

  Andy scrunched up his face again with the effort of remembering. “Purpley. With black and white and gray. Kinda blocky, I guess. I dunno. I’m not much one for fashion.”

  “No, that’s great. That’s perfect. And you say he went west?”

  “Yes, sir. I saw him hop up on that gelding and git just a few hours ago.”

  Jacob took a deep breath. This was better than he had hoped. And it was better than nothing.

  “You’ve been very helpful, Andy. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “My pleasure, Mr. Payne.”

  As Jacob rode out of Haven, west toward the lowering sun, he cursed his luck. The entire interlude in town had been nearly futile. True, he had confirmed that Maloney had been there, at least. And even laid eyes on him. But he had been sent in circles, no one in town, least of all the sheriff, willing to do anything about the fact that they had a notorious murderer in their midst.

  And if that hadn’t been enough, Jacob had been shot. This injury would heal, and he thanked God it wasn’t worse than it was. But it would certainly hold him back. If the next leg of his search for Maloney required anything physical from him, he could be in trouble.

  Jacob thought over his options. He mulled over what he knew about Maloney, and what he knew about this part of the territory. At the moment the best piece of information he had to go on was that the man had traveled west, so that’s what he was doing too. West on the only road leading out of Haven. West toward … well, he wasn’t sure what.

  Chapter Nine

  Jacob and Blaze continued their trek west. Each jostle brought him pain, but he couldn’t stop yet. Maloney was still on the loose and Jacob didn’t trust for a moment that he was done with his path of destruction. The afternoon wore on, and Jacob had more than one occasion to be irritated that the sheriff of Haven had so delayed him that morning. The bounty hunter tried to gauge how many hours of sunlight he had left and what his plan would be once he could no longer see to travel. He would go as far as he could, hindered only by his own hunger and tolerance for pain.

  When he was only an hour outside of Haven, Jacob noticed a ranch in the distance, maybe half a mile off the main road. It was the only civilization for miles. From this distance it looked deserted other than the horses milling around the corral. But there was something—something small, something he almost missed—that caught his eye.

  Jacob peered toward the ranch, uncertain if he had seen what he thought he saw. Was it possible what he was looking for, what he had been prepared to travel all over the desert for, would be right in front of him?

  He directed Blaze down the long path toward the ranch. As each step brought him closer, he tried to catch a glimpse of what had drawn his attention before. That color. That hint.

  When he was just a hundred yards from the house, he stopped. Most of the landscape was small dry shrubs and saguaro cactus, but whoever lived here had put additional work into building up their homestead. A small group of trees along the track from the main road offered Jacob a little concealment. He dismounted and lead Blaze to the shade on the far s
ide.

  From that distance, he looked again. His suspicions were confirmed. One of the horses in the corral had snagged his attention. There, under the saddle just as Andy had described, was a purple woven blanket. Jacob’s thoughts echoed what the man had said: he had never seen anything like it.

  There was no question. That horse was the same one Maloney had rode off on. This ranch could be where the outlaw was hiding out. For a brief moment, Jacob was grateful for his luck. But then he recalled what the outlaw must be after to stop at the one residence outside of the town. Jacob needed to get in there and capture the man.

  Jacob watched the ranch for at least twenty minutes, waiting for something to happen. All he had to go on was seeing that purple woven blanket under the saddle of one of the horses. Why the horse had been left to roam around the corral still with a saddle on, Jacob could only guess. Likely Maloney intended to take what he needed and escape again.

  In which case, Jacob only had to watch long enough to see him leave.

  The bullet wound in his side throbbed with pain. Jacob vowed to himself that the first thing he would do once Maloney was in custody, was allow himself a rest. He wouldn’t be fool enough to think he was invincible, and he’d be no use to Santos if the hole in his side didn’t heal.

  Jacob sighed deeply, frustrated. Resting was the last thing he wanted to do.

  At least he wouldn’t have to do it yet.

  As the sun dropped lower in the sky, Jacob expected to see one or two of the windows light up from within. If everything was safe and secure at the ranch, if he was mistaken about whose horse that was, Jacob could expect to see at least one of the residents of the ranch going about an evening chore. Coming out to draw water from the well, or bringing in fuel for the stove. Maybe one of the men returning home from a day working the farther reaches of the property.

  But as Jacob watched, his suspicions grew. There was no movement. None at all, other than the horses still left alone in the corral outside the barn.

  From this distance, Jacob couldn’t expect to hear anything, but he should be able to see something. Light. Movement. Anything. He wished he knew who lived in this ranch and what he should be looking for.

  He wished, once again, that he had something more to go off of. That the people of Haven had been more helpful. Surely with a ranch this close to town, the family living here must be known to the sheriff or the general store or the reverend. Surely someone in Haven could have told him about this residence closest to town.

  Instead, Jacob was going in blind.

  But, at least he wasn’t stuck again.

  The situation in Haven, being locked into the jail with no recourse, had frustrated him more than he liked to admit. Jacob had always been independent, never liking to ask for help. Now, thank goodness, he didn’t have to worry about that. If he was right in his suspicions, if Maloney was inside that ranch house, then Jacob could do what he does best and apprehend the outlaw.

  Once he knew better what he was dealing with, he could formulate his plan.

  The door to the ranch house opened and Jacob was immediately alert. There was still no light within the building, so all he could see was the barest suggestion of a silhouette. It appeared to be a man, hatless. Jacob held his breath and tried to shrink farther into the shadows of the trees. If he were spotted at this juncture, all would be lost.

  After a beat, Jacob realized the man was not alone. Another figure was pulled out of the building with him. With the little Jacob could see, this second person also appeared to be male, but a bit shorter than the first man, and less broad across the shoulders. A boy, maybe.

  The man handled the boy roughly, holding his upper arm in a grip and all but dragging him down the steps from the house and across the property.

  So much Jacob didn’t know, and so little he could see from this small interaction.

  The man dragged the boy across the dirt to the barn, opened the door and pushed him through. The man himself followed for a brief couple minutes and Jacob was going crazy imagining all the things that could be happening behind that door.

  Not long after, though, the man appeared again alone, closed the barn door, and jammed the handle of a shovel through the door handles, effectively locking it.

  Whoever he had left inside the barn, he didn’t want to get out.

  The man turned back to walk towards the house. When he turned in Jacob’s direction, the bounty hunter could clearly see the man’s gray-blond hair and gray-blond mustache. It was Maloney. There was now no doubt whatsoever.

  When Jacob saw that, he knew what he had to do, and quickly. He was losing daylight.

  In only a few more steps, Maloney was back in the ranch house. If Jacob was going to make it to the barn without being seen he would have to run. He’d have to run all while avoiding the windows of the ranch house. It would be challenging but not impossible.

  He secured Blaze, making sure the horse was as far out of sight as he could manage with his reins wrapped around a tree branch. He checked his weapons, making sure to be as armed as possible in case the worst happened. And he took a long drink of water. The cool liquid gave him a boost of energy that he would need if he was going to be able to make this sprint with the hole in his side.

  Dropping his hat and everything extra he could, Jacob took one last searching look at the building within which Maloney had disappeared. He didn’t detect any movement within, but without any lamp lit he couldn’t be sure.

  He took a deep breath.

  Then he ran.

  Jacob ran straight toward the house. He sprinted across the dirt road, bounced over the split rail fence and crossed diagonally through the corral. The shortest distance to the side of the building was directly between the horses. As Jacob ran, he could feel his blood pumping harder. He knew his wound would start to bleed through his bandage if he had to keep this up much more. But still he ran, focused on his objective, ready to draw his revolver the second he saw Maloney.

  Four more steps. Three. Two. One long final step and he was to the house. Jacob ducked down below the windowsill and tried to catch his breath. It was difficult to listen to what was going on within the house while he was breathing so heavily, but the sound of heavy footsteps on the floorboards was unmistakable.

  Without knowing the layout of the house, Jacob couldn’t even begin to guess what he was doing in there, though he knew it was nothing good. Without knowing what Maloney could be up to or what resources he had at his disposal, Jacob was loath to confront him.

  No, the best step would be to free the young man he now knew to be imprisoned within the barn, pump him for information, and make a new plan from there.

  Chapter Ten

  Jacob listened hard. That sound—Maloney walking around the house—seemed to be receding. The ranch house wasn’t large, but if the outlaw wasn’t near the windows closest to Jacob, he had a chance. He looked around the corner of the house to where the barn lay on the far side. He would have to make another run for it. He was just barely catching his breath, but he couldn’t wait any longer.

  He put his hand to his side and felt the beginnings of sticky blood starting to soak through to his shirt. That meant it had already gone through the bandage. He sighed. Maybe he could … He didn’t know. He couldn’t think of a solution for his own injury until he had been sure to save the kid, and whoever else the murderer might have trapped here. Jacob knew he wouldn’t die from the wound. It was stitched up. He wouldn’t lose enough blood for him to worry about it yet.

  He had to move.

  As soon as he ascertained that Maloney wasn’t anywhere near his side of the building, Jacob took off in a sprint again, this time ducking low to try to stay out of view from the home’s windows. He dug down to find reserves of energy he didn’t think were there and ran, past the well, past the porch until he reached the barn.

  The door to the barn was in the direct line of sight of the ranch house, so Jacob had to move quickly. In one fluid motion, he pulled the s
hovel out of the door handles, opened the barn doors just enough so that he could slip through, and stepped into the darkening structure. As soon as the barn door was closed behind him, Jacob could hear what else was in there with him.

  It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but soon Jacob could make out the shapes of not one, but four people. The sound he was hearing was the muffled protests as each of the shapeless forms yelling and crying while still gagged.

  Jacob held his hands up so they could all see he wasn’t holding a weapon. Though he couldn’t make out any words, the sounds were clearly those of fear.

  “I’m here to help,” he said in a whisper. “I’m a bounty hunter from Tucson, here to capture the man that has tied you up.”

  The muffled cries he heard then changed their tone. No longer afraid, he sensed relief in the room as the captives heard his promise.

  Jacob darted to the closest person, sitting awkwardly, leaning into a loose pile of hay just cast against the wall. It was a young girl; she couldn’t be any older than six or seven. Close in age to Mary Chadwick, he thought with a pang. She had evidently been rolling around in the hay, trying to get herself free, because there were straws sticking through her brown hair in several directions.

  Jacob pulled the gag down with one hand and held a finger to his lips with the other, reminding the girl to be quiet.

  “Are you hurt?” he whispered.

  She shook her head and started crying. Bawling.

  “Shhh, shhh shhh,” he said, moving to untie her hands. “I know. I’m sorry. I know this is scary, but you need to stay quiet so the man doesn’t come back.”

  The girl nodded and closed her lips tight. Tears still poured down her face, cutting tracks in the layer of dirt there, but she managed to stay quiet.

  “Good girl. My name is Jacob. What’s yours?”

  “Bonnie,” she said in a loud whisper.

  “Bonnie?” His voice caught in his throat. “Your name is Bonnie?”