Chapter Eleven
x
From inside the house, Kitty had followed the entire conversation between Matt and Biggs, a terrible sick feeling twisting inside her stomach. Never had she felt more torn than at this very moment. Part of her was glad to see him, longed for him to bring an end to this nightmare and take her safely back to Dodge; another, more rational part of her mind told her it wasn't very likely that he was coming back with them-not now after he had willingly placed himself at the mercy of Biggs in hopes to secure hers, Doc's and the children's freedom.
Hugging Carrie tighter to herself against the sudden chill that was stealing over her, she wished he'd never come.
Footsteps sounded on the porch outside and moments later, Doc shuffled into the house, followed closely by the Marshal. Kitty looked up as his tall, familiar form darkened the doorway. He had to duck slightly as he stepped over the threshold, his hands still raised at his sides. Biggs was right behind him, poking him forward with the tip of his colt barrel.
Matt had taken only a few steps into the room when the outlaw ordered him sharply to stop. "That's far enough, Dillon," he growled.
Matt obliged. Feeling the gun barrel ease, his eyes quickly skimmed the room to take stock of his surroundings. Right away, he caught sight of two more men-no doubt, Biggs' partners. One, a tall and lanky-looking fellow was leaning with his back to the fireplace while the other, a shorter, dark-haired man had positioned himself behind Kitty who was sitting at a table, holding Carrie in her lap.
Kitty.
Across the room, their gazes locked and they stared steadily at each other for a few long seconds. To anybody else, his face remained unreadable but Kitty could see the carefully disguised concern behind his eyes.
Matt quickly looked her over. Her clothing and hair appeared a little disheveled, but he was thankful to find no obvious signs of injury. Her eyes were telling a different story though. He had known her long enough to be able to read the distress and emotional strain reflected in their deep-blue depths.
The children, although obviously frightened, seemed fine as well. Matt silently vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to keep it that way.
From behind Kitty, Kiley suddenly gave a low whistle of astonishment.
"Well, I'll be-" His words stopped short for a second until his mind caught up to his surprise. "He sure's a big one ain't he?"
Stanton murmured his assent and Biggs snorted in contempt.
"The bigger they are, the harder they fall, Kiley," he growled. His lips were drawn into a thin, humorless smile. "You'll see soon enough." Crunching the knuckles of one hand against the other, he shot Matt a meaningful grin. "I got somethin' real special in mind for our friend the Marshal here."
Matt wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to find out what Biggs had in stock for him. Whatever it was, he had a feeling that it was most likely going to be deadly. He didn't bother asking, other more important matters on his mind at the moment.
His eyes skitted sideways as he motioned with his head in Kitty's and the children's direction. "How about lettin' them go now?"
"No, Matt," Kitty immediately protested, fighting silent a rippling tremor of panic. "Please, don't-"
Her anguished plea stabbed at his heart, but he willed himself to ignore it. "Never mind, Kitty," he brushed her off with a quick glance.
The sharp tone of his voice, a tone she knew had its roots in his concern for her, caused her to fall silent. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and didn't say anymore.
Matt's eyes, flint-hard but otherwise expressionless, rested on the outlaw, steadily, unwavering. "How about it, Biggs?"
Biggs didn't reply right away. Unhurried, he pulled a fresh cheroot from his jacket pocket, then casually struck a match against the nearby wall. The flame caught with a loud hiss and the sharp tang of sulfur. Idly, he puffed on the rolled tobacco, coaxing a cherry glow from the smoldering tip. The match was carelessly finger-snapped to the floor. "Nobody can say I ain't a man of my word," he said at last and then added, a strange smile now spreading across his ugly face. "If I said I'll let them go then that's how it's gonna be."
A gray plume of smoke from the cheroot coiled into the air, climbing lazily towards the ceiling.
Matt didn't like it. There was something about Biggs' last statement that didn't sit too well with him. But before he had a chance to study the other's face closer, Biggs had already turned towards Stanton.
"Go an' hitch the doc's buggy."
Stanton gaped at Biggs, a look of unbelief on his ruddy face. He couldn't understand it. Dan Biggs wasn't known to be that easily swayed, especially not by a lawman; besides, he, himself still had, what he considered unfinished business with this Adams and the redhead. His hand automatically went for the enormous lump that had formed in the back of his head and he flinched. "You ain't serious, ain't you?" he ventured uncertain.
Biggs' eyes narrowed. He looked at him hard. "Get goin'," he growled, jerking his head towards the door.
For another second, Stanton continued to stare at Biggs uncomprehendingly, but the other's face remained unyielding. With a muffled curse he finally wheeled around and stomped out the door.
Biggs slipped his colt from his holster again and then turned to the doctor, flagging him towards the door. "All right, Adams...move it!"
"Not very likely," stated Doc flatly.
The outlaw stared at him through narrowed eyes, not sure whether he had heard right. "What'd you say?"
"Let me get somethin' straight here, mister," the doctor burst angrily, wagging a finger into Biggs' disfigured face. "I'm not goin' anywhere-unless that is, Matt here goes, too!"
Biggs raised his brows. "That so?"
Doc tilted his chin and glared at him defiantly. "You bet your life!" His tone was sharp with challenge, almost belligerent, and he made no effort to mask it.
Unfazed, Biggs tapped ashes off the cheroot and stuck it back between his lips. His tobacco-scented breath wafted into the doctor's face as he leaned towards him.
"How about we bet on your life?" he intoned softly. The colt in his right clicked twice as his thumb forced back the hammer to add weight to his words.
But Doc didn't back an inch. He'd taken about all he was going to take without losing his temper. His lips compressed into a thin line, he dragged a swift hand across his mustache, standing eye to eye with Biggs as if daring him. "What're gonna do...shoot me? Well, go on...why don't you just do it an' get it over with!"
"Doc-" Matt's voice came low, cautioning. "Calm down." He saw something coming and he knew he wasn't going to like it.
Doc's head whipped around and his eyes leveled harshly on the lawman. "Oh, don't you be calm with me, Mister Marshal!" he snapped, bristling up even more. "You know what he's gonna do? That murderer there's gonna kill ya! You think I'm gonna just stand by and..."
Biggs' facade of calmness crumpled. A purplish vein began to flicker dangerously on his temple as his features darkened. "I just about had it with you!" he erupted angrily. "Kiley!" He made a swift sweeping gesture with his gun in Kitty's direction.
A small whimper escaped Kitty's throat as the cold muzzle of Kiley's gun was suddenly pressed hard against her temple. The little girl in her arms, already frightened, began to cry and Rory's eyes widened in silent horror at the sight.
Matt felt the bile rising in his throat and it took every ounce of control he had not to panic. He stood stiffly, eyes schooled to practiced calm. Inwardly, he shuddered, his heart rate accelerating. Sweat broke out on his back and he realized with a detached kind of shock, that he was afraid.
His eyes were drawn to Kitty. He could tell the effort it afforded her to remain calm as she softly continued to comfort Carrie while trying her best to ignore the deadly weapon pressed to her head. Matt felt his raised hands clench into fists and willed them to relax.
A tense second passed and then Biggs spoke again. "You still got somethin' to say, doc?" he challenged softly.
More silence followed.
Matt shot a glance back and forth between the two men. He wanted to warn the doctor to ease off, but he fought down the urge to do so, afraid it would provoke Biggs only further.
Doc stared at Kitty and opened his mouth as if to speak, then, just as quickly, closed it again. He jammed his hands deeper into the pockets of his baggy trousers, balling them into fists and dropped his gaze to the floor. "No,...no, I got nothin' more to say," he ground out quietly.
Biggs' grin returned, the knowing light of supreme satisfaction sparking in his eyes. "Good...that's what I thought." He nodded once at Kiley and to Matt's relief, the gun moved away from Kitty's head.
The crunch of boots on the stony ground outside was followed by the clomping of footsteps on the porch and moments later, Stanton's lanky form darkened the doorway. "All ready," he announced, albeit not very enthusiastically as he pointed over his shoulder to the buggy that was sitting in front of the house.
Biggs flagged Kitty with his gun. "Ladies first, red." A contemptuous grin curled sun-chapped lips. "Say good-bye to your Marshal-friend."
Kitty climbed to her feet. "How kind," she replied bitterly. The little girl in her arms had stopped crying and was clutching on to Kitty's shoulder, her big, green eyes now looking fearfully about.
Kitty walked past Doc and stopped when she was level with Matt. Their eyes met. She knew him well enough to tell that he wasn't quite as confident as he was trying to appear. Fear began to curl about her heart. She had always known that she might lose him one of these days. Every time he had set out in pursuit of another lawbreaker, she had braced herself, knowing that this might be the time, he didn't come back. So far, he had always returned. Could it really be different this time?
Matt saw the turmoil in her eyes. He knew exactly what she was thinking, but he didn't know what comfort to give. He tried to smile and made a good attempt at it, at the same time wondering whether it looked as phony as it felt. He had never been very good at fooling her.
"Marsal," Carrie declared happily, her little arms stretched out towards him.
Matt's lips turned with a flicker of a smile even as he felt his chest tighten. "You be a good girl now," he said. He gently stroked a callused hand over her soft, curly tresses. Then he turned to the little boy who was standing beside Kitty in intimidated silence. Matt saw the puffy, red welts on the side of his face and his jaw tightened. There was no need to ask who had done this to him, and he definitely had a good notion by now to beat Dan Biggs within an inch of his rotten life.
He brought his hand up to his shirt and his fingers fumbled with the clasp of his badge. For a second, he regarded the shiny piece of metal, thinking what it represented, what it meant to him. Then he held the boy's shoulders and crouched to look him in the eye.
"Why don't you hold on to that for me, son," he said gently as he pinned the badge to the little boy's chest.
Rory's hazel eyes went wide and his morose expression lightened a little. Despite the tears that glittered in his eyes, he managed to give the Marshal a smile that showed the huge gaps in his teeth.
"Yes, sir...don't you worry, Marshal," he assured him proudly. "I promise, I'll take good care of it for ya."
Out of the corner of his eye, Matt caught Kitty's gaze on him. No woman had ever looked at him the way she did. Although her eyes were swimming with fear, the love in them was bright and clear, and he knew it would last him for the rest of his life-however long that was going to be.
"You might as well keep it, kid," snickered Kiley. "'Cause he ain't gonna need it no more." He raised his gun, cocked it and beaded it on the Marshal, one eye shut. "Pow! Pow! Pow!" he intoned with a savage grin. Chuckling low and ugly, he then trained the gun on the little boy whose eyes widened with fright. "Pow!"
At the sound, Rory squeezed his eyes shut. He stood frozen, his knees weak and trembling in his worn pants.
The outlaw gave a short, sharp bark of savage laughter and his partners joined in.
Matt glared up at Kiley, more than ready to take him apart as well. Luckily, his common sense prevailed. "Leave him be," he gritted, his voice hoarse with barely controlled anger.
Kiley just snickered in response but didn't say any more.
Matt smoothed his hand through the boy's curly hair. "It's all right, don't be afraid."
Rory sniffled. Reluctantly, he nodded. "Marshal?" his voice was hesitant, reed-thin. "They're-they're gonna hurt you, ain't they?"
Matt pressed his lips together, oddly touched by the boy's concern. "Not if I can help it," he answered quietly, his words a sincere pledge to himself.
Rory managed a ghost of a smile. He brushed his runny nose against his sleeve as he snuffled back a few remaining tears.
Matt drew back and straightened to turn to Kitty once more.
"Take good care of them." He nodded at the children.
She looked so lost that he wanted to gather her into his arms and comfort her, assure her that it was going to be all right and it afforded him a tremendous effort to resist the urge to do so.
Kitty felt her throat convulse and swallowed hard, forcing back the misty tears that threatened at the corners of her eyes. She managed a wan smile but her eyes betrayed her misery.
"Aw...now ain't that sweet," Biggs suddenly broke in, one corner of his mouth twisted in a sneer to reveal tobacco-yellowed teeth. Then his face turned ugly. He waved Kitty away from Matt. "Enough of this...get movin'!" he growled impatiently.
Taking his cue from Biggs, Kiley prodded her with his gun. "C'mon, move it, red!"
Slowly, and with obvious reluctance, she began to walk, glancing at him over her shoulder one more time.
It would have been all too easy for her to come apart, but she bit her lip to stifle further tears, refusing to give Biggs the satisfaction to see her cry.
x
x
It didn't take long, and Kitty and the children were seated aboard the buggy. The physician stepped around to the driver's side and climbed up. He righted himself on the seat and collected the reins.
His expression was quiet and grim as his gaze settled on the four men standing at the foot of the porch. Matt, towering over the others, was standing a few steps in front of Biggs who was hovering at his back, gun drawn while Kiley remained a little off to his left, the rifle in his hands raised and ready.
Kitty was sitting numbly beside the doctor, staring at Matt from pain-filled, deeply shadowed blue eyes. Suddenly, she remembered her own thoughts from the other night at the Long Branch.
Why couldn't everything he did be as simple as locating a lost relative? Ya, right, she thought bitterly to herself, realizing how wrong she had been.
Biggs removed the cheroot and spat on the ground. "Get them outta here," he said to Stanton who was holding Doc's horse by its bridle.
At the other's command, Stanton let go of the horse's head and raised his hand, sending it smacking down onto the animal's rump with a loud whoop.
Startled, the bay jumped and broke into a canter, jostling the buggy's occupants in their seats as the vehicle lurched forward.
Under the men's cajoling and jeering, the buggy barreled from the yard, stirring alive a huge dust devil in its wake. It continued on at a sharp pace for a good three hundred yards until it finally slowed down as Doc regained control of the spooked horse.
Matt watched, hands loosely at his sides, relief surging through him with every pace that the buggy put between itself and the house. The stroke of mid-morning sunlight was warm on his neck, a touch barely felt through the shell of his troubled thoughts.
With Kitty, Doc and the children safe he could fully concentrate on finding a way out for himself. He wasn't quite sure how to go about it yet, but he had no intentions to let Biggs shoot him up-not without a fight anyway.
Biggs prodded Matt with his colt. "See, Dillon? I'm a man of my word."
Matt didn't say anything to that; he knew that he wasn't expect to, but again, there was something strange, almost deceptive in the other's statement that he didn't like. He watched as Stanton came strolling over, but he didn't see the quick, meaningful looks the two men exchanged.
The silence stretched out between them as the seconds continued to slowly tick by.
The outlaws' gazes remained pinned to the buggy as it continued to make its slow, cumbersome path up the dirt road.
It almost seemed as if they were waiting for something to happen.
Stanton was comfortably leaning against the hitch rail and toying with colt, idly rolling the cylinder across his forearm to check its spin. Then he holstered up the gun and straightened away from the beam.
He glanced over at Biggs and the two men locked eyes. "Witnesses ain't good, Stanton," said Biggs slowly, meaningfully.
"Yeah,...'specially not when it comes to killin' a lawman," agreed the other readily.
The men turned their attention to the buggy again, watching as it now topped the rise.
One moment, its outline was darkly silhouetted against the bright blue sky, the next moment it had disappeared from view as it went down on the other side.
Biggs nodded slowly once. "Kill' em."