Yesterday's Fire

Chapter 25

...

He closed his eyes and slowly slid his fingers into the small bag crumpled in his hand, waiting for his heart to stop beating wildly before he pulled out one of the caramels. The instant he touched one, memories from the first time he'd seen Kenzie in Huber's store, filled his senses. The smell of lavender, her striking beauty so spellbinding, brushing against her as he intervened to stop the confrontation, her curt comments that had surprisingly hurt, and finally the sweet taste of his first caramel that would forever remind him of her. He blew out his breath as his eyes suddenly blurred, pulling one of the sweets out and slipping it onto his tongue, savoring it as if it were a part of her. Sweetness. As the caramel melted, he recalled the softness of her skin, the taste of her lips against his and he experienced a feeling of deep relief and joy that she was alive. Thurston's words had all been lies. She had eluded him and now he understood the man's anger and it made him smile.

"Why you smilin'?" Judge Reeves growled at him, interrupting his thoughts. "Mr. Thurston say somethin' funny?"

"He's a liar, judge," he said easily. "But you're probably too drunk to care."

"You show me respect, boy, or I'll have you gagged," the judge sputtered, banging down his gavel and wincing as he did.

"Don't wanna hear my side of the story?" He asked.

He heard the distinct sound of a pistol being cocked beside his ear and felt the cool weight of the barrel as Wheeler brushed it down the side of his cheek and laid it on his shoulder.

"I warned you...now shut the fuck up," he said roughly. "Unless you want to spend the rest of your trial unconscious."

"Won't make no difference either way," he replied. "Don't think the truth is allowed in this courtroom."

"But you confessed to your crime, Mr. Gentry," Thurston said from the witness chair beside the judge. "The sheriff and his deputies heard you. Are you denying you burned down my ranch?"

"No, but it was justified," he replied. "You wanna tell the Honorable Judge Reeves why or should I?"

"No one is interested in your fabrications, Gentry," Thurston said with a smug smile. "You're a desperate outlaw willing to say anything to escape the hangman's noose. Nothing could justify what you did."

"You had Joe Atwood shot and probably had his brother killed. Bonner shot Josie Atwood," he said, jumping to his feet as he grew agitated, wanting the townspeople to know the truth. "You sent Jim Hedges to burn out the Muellers and Black Jack Wallace to do the same to the Hawkins' place. They hung 'im, Judge, and shot his little girl..."

"Shut him up, Wheeler," Thurston shouted as the townspeople began to murmur and ask questions.

The butt of the pistol caught him on the jaw before he could continue, the pain stunning, dimming his vision as Wheeler shoved him back down in the chair. He could hear the angry shouts around him, and he started to struggle against Wheeler's hold on him, but deputies sat down on either side and held him there. One grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back and Wheeler forced a bandana between his teeth and tied it tightly, silencing whatever else he had to say.

"I'll have order or I'll kick the bunch of you out," Judge Reeves raged at the restless people. "This is my courtroom and this trial will proceed. Establish order Sheriff. Right now."

Wheeler's men spread out around the saloon, their rifles cocked and threatening, but men continued to shout out questions and Deeks heard Mrs. Huber demanding that Deeks be heard. The sound of the pounding gavel made his head hurt, but he kept his eyes on Thurston, whose face was now dark with outrage. The man didn't like to lose control, especially to people he thought beneath him and he watched him talk vehemently into the judge's face, but was unable to hear what he was saying amid the loud complaints of the disgruntled crowd. The explosive sound of Wheeler's gun being fired into the ceiling silenced the restless crowd, the last man to speak being knocked unconscious to the floor by one of the deputies.

"I've heard enough," Judge Reeves said. "Get him on his feet, Sheriff, and remove the gag. I've come to a decision, and he's entitled to some last words."

A few people mumbled in protest, but their fear was too great and they finally stood quietly, waiting to hear the verdict. Mrs. Huber turned to look at him, and he could see her resignation and it mirrored his own. He had no illusions about the outcome, and quietly prepared himself as the judge took a drink of whiskey and looked him in the eye.

"Max Gentry..."

"Name's Martin Deeks," he said.

"What the hell?"

"If I'm gonna hang I might as well hang with my real name."

"Verdict is guilty, so hang you will, boy, whatever your name is," the judge growled, bringing down his gavel one last time.

Deeks saw the smug look of triumph on Thurston's face and he suddenly felt lightheaded and hung his head, not wanting to see the man gloat. His thoughts turned to Kenzie, feeling hollow and incredibly sad that the promise of a life with her in it would never happen. He realized for the first time that the Atwood's would feel a deep sense of loss at his death and that made him sorry, but filled him with gratefulness for the brief time he'd had with them. Joe would let the Arapaho know and he hoped Hand and Little Shield would lay stones on his grave and chant a death song in his honor.

"Wheeler? Will ya see that the Atwood's get my mare?" He asked softly. "She's been a good ol' girl. Deserves a nice place to live out her days."

"You have my word," the man said.

He handed the bag of caramels to Mrs. Huber as he passed by and she was wiping tears from her eyes, which surprised him, and she patted his arm gently before they led him out the door. The dirt was hot beneath his bare feet, reminding him of the last time he prepared himself to die. They were almost to the sheriff's office when one of Wheeler's deputies galloped up and jumped down to report, the smell of his sweat sour as dirt swirled around his feet.

"Riders comin' in fast," he said breathlessly. "'Bout two, maybe three miles north a here."

"What you want to do Thurston?" Wheeler turned to ask. "It don't give us much time to hang the bastard and get you outa here. Best you take off now, before they get here."

"And miss seeing this man suffer for his crime?" Thurston rasped in anger. "I will not be rushed. That is something I will not tolerate. We'll take him with us and deal with him in a more private setting. Someplace familiar, perhaps."

"They'll catch you," Deeks grinned cockily as they pulled him quickly toward the corral.

"Don't count on it, kid," Wheeler said. "Union Army never caught me and I don't intend to let nobody take me now. Mount up boys, and tie this sonofabitch to his saddle. Billy...take six men and hold 'em as long as you can."

"Cain't I go with you, sir?" Billy whined.

"You messed up last night, son," Wheeler said coldly. "Now do as I order."

Deeks watched Billy and the deputies ride out to lie in wait for whoever was coming, knowing it had to be Kenzie. He smiled softly to himself, realizing he was proud of her, but it was mixed with fear that she was riding into danger, and he had to try and warn her. When a deputy led his mare over, he shoved the man aside and vaulted into the saddle, reining the mare around to make a run for it. Sheila bolted forward, but Wheeler shouted for his men to cut him off and he didn't make it far before he was surrounded by milling horses and angry deputies pointing pistols at him and grabbing the reins.

"Stop or I'll shoot your mare," Wheeler shouted.

Deeks' anger flared at the cruel threat and it forced him to stop, raising his hands in surrender, knowing the man would do it if he continued. The sheriff rode up beside him and pressed the muzzle of his pistol into the base of his neck until his men had tied the manacles on his wrists to the saddle horn.

"You try that out on the trail and I'll kill your horse and leave you tied to her," he said coldly. "Ain't a good way to die."

"The way he's going to die is quite familiar to Mr. Gentry," Thurston said as he rode up to face him. "Only this time I intend to watch you struggle to the very end."

The backhand across the face seemed like an afterthought, and Deeks hung his head, not wanting the man to see the sudden fear in his eyes. His gut quivered at the haunting memories and he looked off toward the north as his hope faded that Kenzie would be in time to stop the bastard's plan.

"I know she's alive, Thurston." he finally said. "She beat the shit outa the sheriff's little weasel and got away. Now she's comin' for me."

"I'll deal with her after I'm finished with you," Thurston said confidently. "Do you really believe she's riding to your rescue like some warrior goddess out of mythology? She's just an ordinary woman, Gentry, granted a beautiful one, but nothing special. Why would she put herself in danger for the likes of you? And if she does come and she finally finds what's left of you, I doubt she'll have the stomach to take me on."

"You're wrong. There ain't nothing ordinary about her," Deeks said with a soft knowing smile. "She'll hunt you down and kill ya."

"Unfortunately, you won't be around to know one way or the other," he sneered.

"You two done?" Wheeler asked as he pulled on Sheila's lead rope. "We need to put some distance between us and those riders. Figure it's the two marshals who been lookin' for you."

Deeks saw the look of annoyance as Thurston took in the warning, and he found he believed that no matter what happened to him, those two lawmen would hunt Thurston till they found him, if Kenzie didn't get to him first. They were the most stubborn lawmen he'd ever come across, and he trusted that they would look out for Kenzie when he was gone and for that he was grateful.

He looked back one last time as Wheeler and his four remaining deputies led him past the scaffold where he was supposed to hang. He knew where they were taking him, and he knew what Thurston intended to do. He was determined to go down fighting and if he saw a chance to end the bastard's life he would take it, even if it cost him his own.

...

Callen shot a look at Sam as they rode on either side of MacKenzie, who continued to push her horse to the limit. The town was in view now and he was becoming cautious, uncertain as to how many men they might be facing. According to MacKenzie's count there could be a dozen men waiting for them.

"Slow it down," Callen yelled at her, trying to break through her determined focus.

"MacKenzie..." Sam shouted, angling his mount to bump against the weary red roan she was riding.

It was if she were in a world of her own, but she finally acknowledged them and slowed her horse to a canter before finally pulling the gelding to a stop.

"They know we're coming," Callen said. "Don't think they're gonna let us ride in without a fight."

"You thinking ambush?" Sam asked as he turned to see how far back the cavalry patrol was.

"There's a shallow gully up ahead," Kenzie said as she drank a bit of water from her canteen. "Be a good place to try and slow us down."

"Or take us out. I say we wait for the troopers and do an old fashioned cavalry charge," Sam said with a smile. "Bugler and all."

"You gettin' nostalgic on me Sam?" Callen asked, wiping some of the sweat from his face with his bandana.

"We can't wait too long," Kenzie insisted, and Callen could see how frightened she was behind her determination.

"Take it easy, girl," Sam said, trying to calm her.

"What if he's already dead?" She asked quietly as she stared at the low line of buildings in the distance.

Callen had no idea what to say that would ease her obvious fear. He had never known such a determined woman in his life. When he first got to know her, she'd been hardened by the murder of her parents, and by the things she'd seen and done in her life. Everything for her was either black or white, good or bad, no shading of gray, or forgiveness for a man's trespasses. She had cut no one any slack until she met Deeks. She had changed because of him, because of the injustice done to him, and now, a man she had once distrusted and tried to vilify, seemed to have become the most important person in her life. And he could see how afraid she was that she might lose him, and he felt for her.

"Nobody on the scaffold," Sam said as he peered through the spyglass he always carried. "Noose still hangin' high."

Callen heard MacKenzie gasp at the words, her trembling hand pressed over her mouth and he could tell how hard she was fighting to control her emotions. Even Sam sounded relieved and looked at him as he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. His own thoughts were filled with the need to get into that town and make sure Edward Thurston didn't carry out another injustice. Whether Deeks had burned Thurston out or not, he didn't want to see the kid hang.

He reined his horse around, grateful to hear the jingle of tack and spurs as the mounted patrol from Fort Steele crested the low rise behind them. Lieutenant Hayes and his sergeant, Mooney, signaled a halt and then joined the three of them to assess the situation.

"Miss Blye...Gentlemen," Hayes said cordially. "What's the holdup?"

Callen was pleased it was Hayes in charge of the ragged group of cavalrymen that waited behind him. Both he and Sergeant Mooney were seasoned veterans of the war, but the ten enlisted men making up the patrol were a ragtag mix of local boys, poor immigrants, and men down on their luck, with probably a few on the run from the law as well. They were tough though and Sergeant Mooney kept them in line, not opposed to knocking a man on his ass if he got out of line. Although frowned upon by the higher-ranking officers, Callen had seen Lieutenant Hayes turn a blind eye to his sergeant's methods, especially when they were out of sight of the fort.

"We're thinkin' that gully up ahead might hold a few surprises," Callen reported.

"You bring a bugler with you, sir?" Sam asked with a smile.

"You Buffalo Soldiers always did love a good cavalry charge," Mooney replied, his thick Irish accent coloring his teasing words.

"Bianchi, your talents are required," Lieutenant Hayes shouted, before turning back to Callen. "The men have been spoiling for a fight. Good way to shake off the boredom."

Callen and MacKenzie filled the right flank, with Sam next to the lieutenant, as the sergeant deployed his men in a skirmish line, rifles at the ready. They started out at a trot, eased into a canter and when the order was given, Private Bianchi blew a rough, but energetic cavalry charge and they all kicked their mounts into a full gallop, charging across the open ground. The men who had figured to ambush them, fired wildly, but quickly realized they were outnumbered and started to run and the one man left standing quickly surrendered. MacKenzie's roan leaped the gully and she raced toward town and Callen and Sam followed, not knowing what other dangers might be waiting for her. There was no stopping her now, and Callen began to have hope that they had come in time.

Townspeople were gathered in small groups in front of the saloon, but scattered as the three of them galloped up the main street. MacKenzie slowed when she saw a woman in a bright yellow bonnet, yanking her exhausted mount to a stop and jumping down to question her.

"Where is he?" She cried out. "Is he okay?"

"Oh Kenzie, You must hurry," the woman said. "They have taken him."

"What do you mean? Where?"

Callen gently pulled her away from the flustered woman, and Sam rushed into the saloon and came out with a man in a black frock coat, slurring out swear words and stumbling as Sam pulled him down the stairs.

"Mrs. Huber, please," Kenzie choked out. "Where is he?"

"In hell," the judge shouted, struggling to get away from Sam. "Sentenced the guilty bastard to hang."

"Who were the witnesses?" Callen demanded.

"Mr. Thurston. He swore it was Gentry who set the fire," the drunken judge said, looking indignant at being questioned.

"Did he testify that he saw him there?" Sam asked roughly.

"No...but it don't matter. Gentry confessed to Sheriff Wheeler," Judge Reeves replied arrogantly.

"Did you allow him to defend himself?" Callen growled, growing angry at the man's pigheadedness.

"Bastard said it was justified," he replied. "Started accusin' Mr. Thurston of shootin' people and burnin' out his neighbors, so he rightfully ordered him gagged. Ask me, that boy is a lyin' coward."

MacKenzie grabbed him by the lapels and would have hit him if Sam hadn't stopped her.

"I've got a federal warrant for Edward Thurston's arrest on just those charges," Callen said, disgusted with the man. "Deeks was a witness."

"Thurston told me it wouldn't be a fair trial," She shouted in the judge's face. "How much did he pay you, you good-for-nothin' drunken bastard?"

"How dare you address me like that," he said angrily, raising his fist to strike her.

Sam yanked him back before he could, and threw him to the ground. "Stay down or I'll throw you in jail."

"Mrs. Huber, is he all right?" MacKenzie whispered.

"He look very sad, but he smile when I give him caramels," she answered softly, taking Kenzie's hand and patting it. "When he try to talk at trial, Sheriff hit him with gun. Make people of town very angry, but they pointed guns at us, so we could do nothing."

"Did they say where they were takin' him, ma'am?" Sam asked.

"I do not know this. He try to escape, but they stop him," her accent thickening as she spoke. "Last we saw, they tie him on horse and ride east."

"How many men, ma'am?" Callen asked.

"Thurston, sheriff and four deputies," the woman reported firmly.

MacKenzie immediately headed toward the sheriff's office, followed quickly by Sam, leaving a trailing Callen feeling exasperated. He was afraid to voice his thoughts, but he knew Sam was thinking the same thing. Once they hit their trail, he feared they'd find Deeks hanging from a tree and he feared what that would do to the woman storming around the corral, saddling her big gray.

Lieutenant Hayes and his men finally rode up with the remains of Wheeler's men draped over the backs of their horses. Sergeant Mooney dragged the man who'd surrendered down off his horse and shoved him toward the jailhouse, the man whining that he was a deputy sheriff and Wheeler's right hand man.

"Thurston and Sheriff Wheeler took Deeks and headed east. We just don't know where for sure," Callen told the lieutenant. "There's six of 'em. Could use a few of your men to give chase with us."

"I was there when Miss Blye was brought to Fort Steel," Lieutenant Hayes replied softly. "I'd like to be there when you catch that nasty sonofabitch. Like to give him a taste of the end of a whip. Sergeant Mooney can take care of things here with half the men."

"Be a pleasure to have ya Lieutenant," Callen said, shaking the man's hand.

"We goin' or what?" MacKenzie asked, mounted and looking anxious before she turned her horse east and started looking for sign.

"Sam, were headin' out," Callen yelled inside, startled by the look on his face when he came outside.

"That place is a hell hole, G. Wheeler's man said Deeks was chained up in there all night." Sam said with revulsion. "Thurston came in this mornin'. Taunted him and beat 'im. G, he told him he'd strangled MacKenzie to death."

"Sonofabitch."

"We're dealing with a sick bastard, Marshal," Hayes commented.

"He wants him to suffer...it's why he told him MacKenzie was dead," Callen said, finally understanding. "He's not gonna hang 'im, Sam. He's gonna take him back to where he left him for dead, only this time he's gonna make sure he doesn't survive."

...

The pace of the ride was hard and relentless, but he took solace in the fact that Thurston was running. Those marshals had been hunting him, just as they said they would, and the bastard was afraid. It made Deeks smile, if only to himself. He was exhausted, his body aching as they skirted rocky cliffs and wove their way through a series of deep gullies, the landscape growing harsh, the pale, high plateau of his nightmares looming in the distance. He was finding it difficult to focus on any one thing, his thoughts leaping and tumbling over the people and places that now meant so much to him. His hope of rescue had faded the longer they rode, Wheeler constantly sending scouts back along their trail to see if anyone was following. Each shake of a scout's head drummed defeat into his mind, and he tried to concentrate on how to get his hands on Thurston. Those thoughts would dissipate whenever a familiar part of the landscape appeared, replaced by memories of his time here and of the people who would mourn his loss. The thought that there were people who would grieve for him was a comfort. It made him feel less alone. Each person's face passed through his mind, finally lingering on Kenzie, his heart tightening in his chest. He was still amazed by her, still grateful for the few days and intimate moments they had shared. He let it sustain him as their progress slowed, and Thurston finally called a halt to the merciless pace.

"Look familiar, Gentry?" Thurston asked, as he rode back to face him.

Deeks stared back at him without expression, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear he secretly harbored. The man's eyes turned cunning and dark, making his gut quiver, wondering what the man was thinking.

"The Atwood Ranch is south of here, isn't it Mr. Gentry?" He asked as he looked down along the winding rivulet that would empty into Little Jack Creek. "I think it would make a fine base of operations while I rebuild my ranch, don't you think? Of course that would mean the current residents would have to be dispossessed, but I don't think that will be very difficult for Wheeler's men. I believe there is only a woman and an old man there at the moment, unless of course Gus has taken care of them already."

Deeks sat breathless as the man spoke, his mouth dry and his heart racing, searching for any words that might make the man relent, but he knew there were none.

"Please don't hurt them," he could only weakly plead for their lives, and that enraged him.

"Good God. You actually care about those people," Thurston looked surprised, but he laughed. "It always amazed me that they would protect an ill-bred stray like you. One never gets used to common people."

"Josie Atwood is a good woman," Deeks choked out. "She's a kind soul. She doesn't deserve to die. You don't have to do this."

"You forget, Mr. Gentry. I do what I want and no one stands in my way," he said coldly.

"Wheeler, you can stop this," Deeks turned to stare at the man. "They're innocent people."

"They have some remarkable horses, Wheeler," Thurston remarked unconcerned. "I'm sure you'll find one to your liking."

"I'll send Boone on down with the boys. They'll get it done. Get the place ready for ya," Wheeler said, his eyes remorseless as he looked unblinking back at Deeks.

The roar of outrage that tore from his throat silenced the birds and Sheila jumped, jerking her head up as Deeks kicked her into a gallop, tearing the lead rope from the hand of the man who held it. His mad dash down toward the ranch was crazy, but all he could think of was saving Josie, oblivious to the angry shouts and curses that erupted behind him. They were on him before he got too far, one rider cutting in front of him, forcing Sheila to stop while another grabbed for the reins, pulling his mare around and yanking roughly on the bit. Wheeler rode up beside him, cursing as he whipped his heavy pistol down across the back of his neck, and Deeks slumped in the saddle, completely defeated and crushed with sorrow.

"I warned you," Wheeler growled. "I'd just as soon shoot your horse and leave ya here, but Mr. Thurston has other plans. Don't mean you get off without punishment. If one of my slaves tried to run away, I'd lame 'im. Didn't run very far or very fast after that."

Wheeler pressed the muzzle of his pistol behind Deeks' calf and fired. He screamed as Sheila leaped sideways almost unseating the man on the horse next to her. Collapsing over his mare's neck, he fought to stay conscious as Wheeler ordered his men to tie his feet to the stirrups. His tears were for Josie, but a blinding rage blackened his heart as he struggled to endure the pain and mind numbing despair until he finally passed out.

...

She had no idea how far ahead they were, but she kept pushing her gray hard when she was sure of the trail. She longed to see him, but never let her mind linger on him for long, it made it too hard to concentrate on finding him. Wheeler was good at eluding them, backtracking and cutting down the creeks, making them spend valuable time searching for their trail. She felt the tension growing among the men with her, especially Callen and Sam. Whenever they had to stop, she saw that silent communication they shared, their usually unemotional faces now drawn tight with anger and frustration. She thought they had come to admire Deeks, which she knew would surprise him if he ever had a chance to find out. Just that thought touched her deeply, and sudden tears clouded her eyes.

"Kenzie!"

Callen yelled her name far down the creek, and his use of that nickname shook her. Both men had used it on this ride and she was not sure she liked that because it was so much a part of her connection to Deeks. Now they had found the trail again, but when she joined them, their expressions shook her.

"There's blood," Sam told her softly.

"How much?" She snapped the question out angrily as she swung down beside Callen as he studied the ground.

"Enough to weaken him," Callen replied a little testily. "But it'll help us track 'em."

"Why would they shoot him?" Lieutenant Hayes asked.

"Cause he can be cantankerous and a little crazy," Sam replied, sobering when Kenzie glared at him.

Sam turned his horse and quickly picked up the blood trail, followed by the troopers and the lieutenant, but Callen grabbed her arm before she could mount, his expression soft and kind and it made her so angry she wanted to hit him.

"Don't look at me like that," she said as she shoved past him and mounted her gray.

"Guess I'm just worried about you," he replied, too kindly for her taste.

"I'm not the one bleedin'," she snapped and urged her horse past him, quickly catching up with Sam, who had stopped again.

"They split up," Lieutenant Hayes said.

"Why would they do that?" She asked as she looked down at the small stream of runoff.

"The Atwood place is down that way," Callen said, his jaw flexing with anger. "And Thurston wants it. He won't care who gets in his way."

"Josie and Coot are the only ones there," her voice trembling with fear for them.

"My men and I will go," Lieutenant Hayes said firmly. "You find that young man and shoot that bastard."

"Yes sir," Sam said with a quick salute. "Those are my kinda orders, sir."

As she turned her horse to face the trail ahead, she couldn't keep her eyes from the plateau rising up starkly on the horizon and she shivered, her memories crowding out the hope she wanted so desperately to hold on to.

...

He woke when Sheila snorted and scrambled to catch her footing on a steep slope. Waiting for his dizziness to clear, he kept his head down as he endured the fiery pain pulsing in his leg. He could see that his lower leg and bare foot were slick with blood that dripped slowly, spotting the pale, dusty ground as they crested the edge of the plateau. It was a place of nightmares, a place where his hope had withered with each bloody step and now his blood marked this ground again, but this time he had no hope, just a dark need for vengeance.

Their pace picked up and he groaned as the saddle horn jabbed into his chest each time Sheila's hooves struck the hard ground, so he forced himself upright. Thurston rode just ahead leading his mare, while Wheeler kept watch at the rear, and he gasped out a ragged breath as his thoughts of Josie and Coot roared through his head.

"Looks like he's awake," Wheeler called out.

Thurston turned his horse, stopping in front of Sheila who groaned and lowered her head as he let go of the lead rope. Deeks saw the hatred in his eyes, and bit his blistered lip, watching wearily as the man took his time and drank deeply from his canteen.

"How long since you've had water, Gentry?"

"How long you been a sonofabitch?" He mumbled, before dropping his head to muster his strength.

Wheeler was standing beside him when he said it, and slammed his fist down on his leg and he muffled a scream as best he could as he sagged in the saddle. The man untied his foot from the stirrup and then ducked under his mare's neck and untied the other one, and finally came around and pulled a large hunting knife to cut the rope that tied his manacled hands to the saddle horn. Deeks watched his every moved with half closed eyes, and when the man pulled him down from Sheila's back, he had to hold tightly onto the saddle until he was sure he could stand.

"You know what's coming don't you Mr. Gentry?" Thurston gloated as he climbed down from his horse.

He didn't reply, simply watched as the man slowly and purposefully undid the lariat from his saddle. Neither man seemed to think he was a threat, as he leaned weakly against his mare.

"What? No fight left?" Thurston asked as he approached, brushing the lariat across his chest. "Ready to yield so soon?"

"You ain't worth the effort," Deeks whispered.

"I'm disappointed Mr. Gentry," he said, growing testy. "And you know how I hate to be disappointed."

He slapped the coiled rope across his face and he almost lost his footing, pressing his face into the saddle as Thurston grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him close.

"No stopping this time, my little guttersnipe," he snarled into his ear, "no chance to catch your breath, no time to yield, because I don't care anymore whether you yield or not. I intend to watch Wheeler drag you all over this desolate place until there is nothing left of you. If that little whore should ever find you, she won't recognize you. Your own mother wouldn't recognize you when I'm done. You ruined my plans, Mr. Gentry, but not anymore. After today, no one will even remember your name."

The man shoved away from him and walked back toward his horse, breathing heavily from his rant. Wheeler stepped in front of him to follow, holding his hand out to Thurston for the lariat, and Deeks jerked the hunting knife from the sheath behind the sheriff's back and rammed it up under his ribs, and then again, grabbing his collar and yanking him back into the thrust. The man groaned in surprise and struggled briefly as blood gushed from his side, coating the knife and Deeks' hand. As Wheeler fell to his knees, Deeks released the knife and pulled the man's gun, pointing it at Thurston before he could make a move. Stepping over the dead man where he fell, he fired at the feet of Thurston's horse, sending the animal racing away and leaving his owner all alone.

"Gonna make another speech?" Deeks asked as he limped toward the man. "Or do you just wanna yield?"

"We can make a deal, Gentry," the words rushed out of Thurston's mouth as he backed away, his hands reaching out in supplication.

"You ain't got nothing I want, Thurston" he replied softly, feeling so very tired.

"I have money," he said, smiling as if he'd found the solution. "You can buy whatever your heart desires."

"That woman you sent those men to kill? She cared about me. Told me she loved me like a son. Money can't buy that."

"You have principles, remember?" Thurston whined. "You're not a killer."

"You sure about that?" Deeks said, wavering slightly, knowing he had to decide before he passed out.

"I'm unarmed," the words came out as a whimper, and Deeks realized he didn't care what happened to the man.

"You really ain't worth killin'," he said wearily. "Guess I'll leave ya to the law after all."

Deeks needed to get to the ranch. His deep need to get to Josie was overwhelming, and he stumbled back toward his mare, his energy fading fast. Sheila snorted and stamped nervously and he turned to see Thurston charging toward him, his face contorted in rage. He barely had time to raise the gun, but he fired, the bullet tearing into Thurston's leg, just above the knee, his high screams spooking Wheeler's horse. Deeks grabbed for his saddle horn as his vision clouded, barely holding on as Thurston writhed on the ground, screaming bitter curses that drifted and died in the empty landscape. He watched for a few minutes before pulling himself up into the saddle, gripping a handful of Sheila's mane as he steadied himself, no longer interested in the pathetic raging of the wounded man. The two men stared at each other as Deeks urged Sheila past where he lay panting on the rocky ground.

"You can't leave me here," Thurston snarled desperately. "I'm a baron of noble birth."

"That don't matter much out here," Deeks said, and turned Sheila toward home.

...

...