Escort Duty
Jantallian
3
"Tarnation saddle it, Mort! Y'takin' a hellava risk!" Jonesy looked appalled. "How's Jess gonna know what y' just told me?"
"He already does."
"Y'mean y' told him before they left? Y' never had time."
"No, I didn't need to tell him."
"Why not?" Jonesy demanded, worry written all over his face.
"Because he was in Dodge City, five years ago, when the Storner gang had a shoot-out with Jack Cade and his brothers. Jess took down two of the Cades in a straight draw and then picked off one more of the brothers hidden on the roof. He was drawing a bead on Storner himself. So Storner should be properly grateful for the escort I've sent him."
"Y'reckon?" Jonesy looked dubious. "Don't recall thankfulness ever bein' a quality I've heard mentioned in the same breath as Maximillian Storner."
# # # # #
Max Storner tried to appear grateful as his escorts entered the room. The tall blonde looked reassuring enough as he strode across, his hand outstretched. "I'm Slim Sherman, Mr. Storner. Mort Cory sent me –"
"Us!" an all-too-familiar voice snarled from behind him.
Sherman ignored the interruption. "I'm here to see that you arrive safely back in Laramie."
"T'see that y' get there without too many bullet holes in y'!" amended the voice from the doorway.
Storner saw a brief expression, akin to the determination of one preparing for battle, cross Sherman's otherwise pleasant face. He stood quite still, yet somehow radiating his expectation that the other man would behave in a civilised manner. Storner doubted it. All Sherman said quietly was: "This is my fellow deputy, Jess Harper."
The dark man strolled across the room and looked down at Storner as he sat braced in his chair by the window. A feral grin twitched his lips and he said softly, "You on the look-out for somethin', Storner?"
"A reliable escort," Storner retorted shortly, trying to keep his voice steady. Five years on. Five years which had honed this man from a reckless youngster with a talent for gun-play to a lean and merciless fighting machine. He had survived those five years. And it didn't argue that his skill and accuracy had got any the less. And now Storner had no hold over him.
"Mr. Sherman's middle name is reliability," he was told sardonically. "Y' can trust him completely."
More than I can you! Storner thought grimly. There was no kid chained up in the barn to keep Harper in order now. No-one he cared enough about to enable Storner to force his co-operation. But he had saved Storner's life that day, when he had no reason to do so – there was no doubt about it. Probably in the hope he would live to be hanged. Well, that remained to be seen, but Storner was looking forward less and less to this dangerous journey in the company of only one trustworthy bodyguard.
"I want to start immediately!" he told them. No sense in prolonging things here, where he knew he was in danger. At least on the trail he would have only one thing to fear.
Jess Harper scowled. "We ain't goin' anywhere without gettin' fed!"
The reliable Mr. Sherman looked as though he had heard this before, because he appeared to suppress a sigh and a very slight smile touched his lips. He said firmly: "We can take food with us."
"Yeah? Then I'll hurry those women up preparin' it!" Harper jerked open the door and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
# # # # #
A pot of something savoury was stewing, filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma guaranteed to seduce two starving men. Stirring it, Unity raise an eyebrow enquiringly to her mother and gestured with the spoon to indicate the stew. A smile briefly lifted Concord's lips. Neither woman spoke, but they were as much in harmony and of one mind as their names suggested. Not only that, but they were extraordinarily alike in appearance: black-haired and creamy- skinned, slender and supple, like the silk they were dressed in. It was easy to see beauty in the fine-cut features of each face and the subtle brilliance of two pairs of black eyes.
Unity took another saucepan and carefully divided the stew between the two vessels. Concord went to the big dresser, moved a couple of jars on one of the shelves and took out a small tin from behind them. She brought it over to the stove and opened it carefully.
"Ain't no need for that!" The dark gunman was leaning against the door-jamb, watching them with those cool, bright eyes. It seemed to be his favourite pose. Before either of them could react he was across the kitchen and had removed the tin from Concord's hands. "No sense in wastin' good …" – he bent a little over the tin and sniffed – " … seasonin' … on Sherman."
"Why not?" Concord found she had automatically taken the tin, which he had closed, and that she was already returning it to its hiding place, exactly as if he had ordered her to do so. When she turned round, he had slipped an arm round Unity's waist and removed the spoon from her hand in one smooth motion.
"Because Mr. Sherman is a very fussy eater."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really." He pulled Unity away from the stove and into a closer embrace, which she did nothing to escape. Concord could hardly blame her for this, but she wanted a better explanation for why their preparations had been interrupted in this abrupt fashion. She folded her arms and waited.
"He only eats vegetables an' fruit," the gunman informed them. "Uncooked."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. Belongs to a really strict religious group. Call themselves the People of Genesis." Seeing the baffled and slightly disbelieving expression on both faces, he quoted: " 'Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat'.Genesis chapter one, verse twenty nine."
"Really!" Concord looked totally affronted, as any good cook might.
"Y're over-usin' that word!" The gunman let go of Unity and grabbed Concord by both arms in no uncertain manner. It was a rather less of a pleasurable experience than she had been hoping for. He snarled in her face: "What you're really goin' to do right now is pack plenty of fruit and anythin' we can eat raw and be quick about it!"
Concord was not easily intimidated. "And does he eat bread?"
"Yeah, but no butter."
Unity hastened back to the stove and removed the stew, little knowing what she was doing to Jess Harper's digestive system and how much will power it was costing him to forgo a good meal. The two women set about packing provisions under the steely supervision of a very observant escort.
When they were ready, he issued one final directive: "Don't talk about this. Don't even mention it in his hearin' or you'll surely find out what the wrath of God is like when Slim Sherman's bringin' it down! He may look mild and polite, but, believe me, when it comes to his beliefs, he's a holy terror. Just pretend this is what you've eaten every day of your lives – or you may not live many more days!" And with that, he herded them back to the drawing room.
# # # # #
A small pile of luggage had accumulated in the hall. The gunman favoured it with a kick as he passed by. There was a faint clink from one of the saddlebags. They were scarcely in through the door before it was obvious things were moving fast.
"Jess, can you harness up the buggy and get the horses ready?"
"I can. Is that what y're tellin' me to do?"
Slim took a firm hold on his temper and refrained from either thumping his partner or giving him a good piece of his mind. He'd known Jess wild – stubborn – incandescent - uncooperative – black as thunder – dead drunk more than once - and not infrequently bloody minded, but he had never known him to sulk. With Jess, it was all one explosion or a point blank refusal to do anything. Slim had never known him behave like this before. It was as if he had suddenly become a totally different person. As if contact with Storner had called into being someone Slim did not know, someone who had ridden into his home with a past and an agenda which Slim knew nothing about, someone who … someone he did not know if he could trust.
He gave himself a vigorous mental shake and said, "Yeah. But I didn't think you'd actually need telling."
Jess shrugged. "You want me to load up as well?"
"What do you think?" Slim snapped back, the extent of his patience having been severely stretched over the last few hours.
"I think y'might be aimin' to make sure you get all of the bounty."
"Bounty?" Slim stared at him. Neither of them had ever hunted a man down for money.
"You think I don't know what Mr. Storner –" Jess regarded the gang leader with a lifted eyebrow, "is aimin' to take with him." He lunged forward and grabbed Storner by the collar. "How about openin' those saddlebags, Storner?"
Storner braced himself against the chair and resisted the urge to head-butt this very persistent young man. It would do no good in the end. He said in placating tones, "Sure, we can open them. I pulled in every scrap of cash I have. I don't aim to make the banks a present of my money."
"Your money?" Jess sneered. "If you ever had a dollar you didn't steal, I'm the president of the USA!"
"So – it's going back to justice with me – back to Laramie and to the court there."
"Not all of it!" Jess snarled. "I reckon you own me five years back pay for that job in Dodge City. An' my rates have gone up since then!"
Max Storner turned pale. Slim's brow furrowed in consternation. Concord smiled a secret smile. Unity smiled in pleasurable anticipation.
Storner muttered: "You drive a hard bargain, Harper!"
"You should've thought about that in the first place!" Jess said coldly.
"Alright!" Storner assured him hastily. "You'll get your payment. I give you my word."
"You may recall I got plenty o' reason to doubt your word," Jess reminded him just as coldly. "But right now, I'll take it, provided the money rides with Mr. Sherman. I'm sure we can both rely on him to look after it."
What's with the 'Mr. Sherman'? Slim asked himself in bewilderment. When did Jess ever address him like that? Then, with conscientious single-mindedness and determination, he focused on the task in hand. "The buggy, Jess!"
"I heard y'!" Jess slouched out of the room, showing absolutely no enthusiasm for getting the escort party under way. But that had been characteristic of his behaviour ever since they had left Laramie. Slim sighed once more. Jess did not sulk. But he was doing an extremely good imitation!