Chapter 13: The Farmhouse
By high noon the next day Lloyd was forced to stop and examine his horse. It was limping badly. Lifting the Bay's front foreleg he could see the underside was swollen and red. "He's gone lame. Must have cut the pad on some sharp rocks or something."
Riding double, Mark felt Will sit a little straighter in the saddle and avert his eyes from his uncle.
"So what are we gonna do now?" Roark asked. He was in a foul mood again, his head still throbbing from last night's whiskey binge and starting to get agitated about the money. Roark had wanted to split up the loot this morning, but Lloyd had insisted on keeping it together until they were safely out of the valley, or so he said. The convict wiped his parched mouth and took a swig of stale water from his canteen grimacing. He wished Lloyd hadn't smashed the last bottle of whiskey in the fire last night.
"He'll never make it over the mountains like this." Lloyd cursed. "We're gonna need to change horses." He thought a minute. "We past the outskirts of a farm about five miles back. Might be our best chance to find fresh mounts." Now that they had the money, Lloyd was eager to head over the mountains and was trying to avoid towns and settlements as much as possible. But there was little choice in the matter now as the outlaws were forced to double back.
A little while later from their position on a slight rise, Lloyd and his men staked out the small wooden ranch house in the clearing below. Across the compound was a barn with a corral adjacent, and beyond a larger fenced in pasture where a few horses could been seen grazing in the distance.
A man about Lloyd's age was outside chopping wood. A few minutes later, the front door opened and a woman in an apron came out carrying a glass and a small basket full of laundry. The man stopped what he was doing, and leaning the axe against a stump, accepted the glass, as the woman hung the clothes on the line to dry. She then went over to a small wooden structure on the other side of the clearing, emerging a few minutes later carry a piece of cured meat. She spoke briefly to the man again then disappeared into the house. Soon after, the man resumed his chopping. Besides the two of them, no one else seemed to be about the remote farm.
Satisfied they were alone; Lloyd motioned his men back down the hill. Leaning against the hillside, he took out his gun and checked it, then explained his plan. "Will, wait here until we get in position. When I give the signal you and the kid are going to take the Bay down nice and easy. They won't expect anything with the kid along. When you have their attention, we'll move in. With luck, we'll take them by surprise."
But Mark was edgy. Roark had been in an especially mean mood all morning and snapping at everyone, clearing getting on Lloyd's nerves as well. "No." Mark said suddenly. Will's eyes widened at Mark's defiance.
Lloyd's left eyebrow rose. "That's not a word I like to here boy! You'll do as you're told."
His voice quivered slightly but he held his ground. "I won't help you! Not….not unless you promise no one will get hurt." He was looking at Roark who just glared back with a sadistical smile. It had been enough they had killed his Pa and Micah. Mark couldn't bare to see anyone else was harmed.
Lloyd's icy glare made Mark cringe thinking he'd gone too far, but instead a second later he heard Lloyd chuckle. "You're sure one hell of a gutsy kid." He paused and smiled almost pleasantly. "All right, I promise kid, no one gets hurt." Lloyd threw Roark a stern warning, "No trouble from anyone, clear?" Roark gave Lloyd a sour grunt. Lloyd then leaned in close to Mark and suddenly grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. "But you try and tip them off boy," he said menacing holding the pistol up in front of the boy's face, "then the deals off, you understand?" Mark nodded solemnly as Lloyd released him. He didn't intend to cause any trouble.
"Give me your gun Will," Lloyd ordered. Will shot his uncle a puzzled look. "It will look too suspicious if you're packing," the outlaw explained. Reluctantly Will un-strapped his gun belt and handed it over to Lloyd.
Soon after, they set Lloyd's plan in motion. The outlaw leader headed around to the side of the house staying low and out of sight of the windows, taking position behind a buckboard wagon, while Roark and Briggs disappeared around the side of the barn. Once in place, Lloyd silently signaled Will.
"Come on, let's get this over with," Will said flatly as he proceeded towards the farm house with the Bay in tow. Mark anxiously followed a step behind.
Seeing the two strangers approach, the man suddenly stopped his work and stood up. Walking a short distance over to the porch he retrieved his rifle. In remote areas such as this it was not unusual for strangers to be met with caution. But as he saw Mark's slight frame standing beside Will, he brought the rifle down ever so slightly.
Will stopped several feet away, tipping his hat. "Afternoon sir," he said politely. The man continued to look at the two dust ridden travelers cautiously. "Sorry to bother you mister, but my horse here went lame about five miles back and we've been walking ever since. We saw your ranch and were hoping you would allow us to stop and water and rest our horse a bit."
The man cocked his head to the side and could see the Bay was definitely favoring one leg. Mark standing a little behind Will remained silent, keenly aware that Lloyd was in earshot.
The man stared at Will and Mark for a few more moments. Then apparently deciding they were harmless, let the rifle down, and set it against a stump. Extending his hand, he apologized, "Sorry, can never can be too careful out here."
"I understand, sir."
"Who's there Pa?" a young woman's voice called out.
"We've got visitors Sarah."
"Oh?" The woman stepped out of the house onto the porch. Will hadn't gotten much more than a glance of her earlier on the hillside when Lloyd had been staking out the place, but up close he could see that she was younger than he thought, closer to his own age. She was slimly built with brown hair tucked wispily in a bun, a few strands hanging about her oval face. The young woman looked curiously at the two dust ridden travelers through bright friendly brown eyes. "Why, hello there." Her voice was warm and pleasant.
Will felt Mark nudge him in the side and with some embarrassment Will realized he must have been gawking at her. He took off his hat and gave the young woman a little nod, "Hello, mame." The young woman smiled back. "Um….you sure have a nice place here."
"It's not much, but we call it home," the rancher replied. "Names Ed Bailey and this is my daughter Sarah."
"Please to meet ya. We don't get many visitors here."
"I'm Will and this is um….my little brother, Mark."
The woman smiled warmly back. "Nice to meet you, Mark." He nodded mechanically, smiling nervously back. A slight frown appeared on her face as she noticed their rather disheveled appearance and the dark circles around the young boy's eyes. "My, you both look plum worn out."
"Yes mame, we've been walking for quite a spell," Will said.
"Seems their horse went lame on them Sarah," Ed Bailey explained.
"Oh dear."
"There's a trough over by the corral. You're welcomed to water your horse there and I have some feed in the barn too."
"Thank you," Will replied. "Appreciate your kindness."
"By the looks of it both of you could do with a meal as well," Sarah remarked. "I'll be happy to fix you something. I was just about to go make lunch anyways." She looked down at the boy. "You like apple pie?"
"Yes, mame," Mark replied nervously.
"Well, you're in luck, I just took one out of the oven a little bit ago. Should be nice and cooled now."
Lloyd had just moved from behind the wagon. As the woman was about to turn towards the house, Will said hastily, "No." She stopped short and gave him a curious look and he added quickly. "I mean no thank you. We don't want you to go to any trouble, really."
"It's no trouble at all. We have plenty enough to share with a few tired strangers."
As Lloyd slowly approached the two from behind, Will tried to think quickly. "But, um…we don't have much money to pay for the meal."
The young woman looked indignant. "As if I would accept such a thing!"
Ed Bailey chuckled. "No use arguing with her son. My daughter has a very stubborn streak. Best just to accept the offer gracious like."
"Thank you then," Will finally said.
Sarah smiled back.
"Hold it right there," Lloyd said suddenly from behind.
Startled, Ed Bailey spun around to see a pistol pointed directly at him. Before he could react and retrieve his rifle, Lloyd already had him at a disadvantage. The rancher raised his hands in the air. A few seconds later, Sarah gasped as Roark and Briggs appeared from either side of the barn, guns drawn.
Realizing he had been tricked, the rancher shot Will a furious look. "What's going on here?" he demanded.
"No sudden moves mister and no one gets hurt" Lloyd turned to Will. "Get the rifle."
Will reluctantly retrieved the rifle, averting his eyes guiltily from the rancher and his daughter.
Motioning with his pistol, Lloyd forced them inside the house. "Sit down!" he ordered. The two retreated into a couple of winged back chairs near the fireplace.
Mark stood behind one of the tall straight back dining room chairs, with Will a few feet away. Briggs and Roark hovered near the door.
"What do you want?" Ed Bailey demanded calmly.
"We only need a few horses and some supplies. Cooperate and we'll leave you in peace." Turning he ordered Will to round up a few horses. He wanted two fresh mounts, one for him and one for the boy. They would make better time if the kid wasn't riding double.
"All right," Will nodded. "Come on Mark."
"No leave the kid here where I can keep an eye on him."
Will was forced to comply but gave Mark a re-assuring look before heading back outside. He was forced to squeeze past Roark's bulky frame who made no attempt to step aside. He glimpsed the look of cold amusement in the convict's eyes. Once Will left, Lloyd motioned Mark to sit down on the raised fireplace hearth which extended over to the far wall in the small living room.
Lloyd then walked around the room noticing the fixings for lunch already laid out on the wooden counter in the kitchen and the smell of fresh baked apple pie. "Mighty nice of you to offer to feed us mame."
"We certainly will not!" Ed Bailey snapped.
"It's okay Pa. I don't mind," Sarah reassured her father. "We won't cause you any trouble, mister."
Lloyd jerked the gun indicating for Sarah to get up and move into the kitchen while the rancher was forced to remain in his seat. While she made cured meat sandwiches, Lloyd helped himself to a piece of pie. "Not bad, mame. My compliments."
Will returned just as she was finishing and told Lloyd he had two fresh horses pinned up in the corral. But the hand that Will had cut a earlier when he'd helped Mark get out of the tunnel was bleeding again, having split open when he caught the bandage on the metal latch to the corral.
Lloyd looked at Sarah. "Fix up that wound of his, then Will get some grub before you're out of luck!"
Sarah's mouth pinched in fury as Lloyd settled down at the table with Briggs and Roark who were already chowing down. The young woman grabbed some clean strips of cloth from a drawer nearby and tossed them defiantly on the counter as Will went over to the sink. He unwrapped the dirty rag from around his hand and pumped cold water over the top of it, cringing a bit as it stung.
"Looks a little infected if you ask me," she remarked caustically.
"It'll be fine" Will replied thinly. He cleaned the wound out as best as he could aware of the young woman's defensive stance. Finally, Will offered an awkward apology. "I'm sorry I had to trick you and your pa. It was necessary."
Sarah looked at him oddly. Will took one of the clean strips of cloth and awkwardly tried to redress the wound.
"It will never stay on like that!"
"It'll be alright, mame. I don't want to trouble you."
Sarah scoffed. "Well you've already done that now haven't you?" Will couldn't help the guilty flush that crept up his face. Sarah let out an angry huff. "Hold still, I'll do it," she said grudgingly, grabbing his hand.
Will looked up a little startled by her offer but didn't protest as she applied some ointment and redressed the wound. It felt a lot better.
"Thank you." Will bit his lip. "Can I ask you one more favor?" Sarah gave him a heated glare. "Would you mind seeing if you can get the boy to eat? He could use a square meal."
Sarah's face quickly lost its anger. She looked over at Mark who was sitting quietly in the corner, his eyes starring absently at something on the little table nearby. "Yes of course," she said with compassion.
"Thank you. He's been through a lot."
Sarah made up a two more sandwiches. Will was surprised when she handed one to him with the faintest of a smile. She took the other one over to the boy along with a glass of milk and a piece of apple pie. "It's Mark right?"
Mark looked up startled. "Yes mame."
Sarah handed him a plate of food. "Mind if I join you?"
"Thank you, but I'm not very hungry."
She sat down next to him on the hearth. "I'm offended since I did go through all the trouble of making it for you. Besides, my pa says I make a very good apple pie," Sarah said teasingly.
Mark gave her a little smile. "All right." He took a bite of the pie. It was very tasty. As he ate, his eyes drifted off again to something on the little table and Sarah realized he was looking at an old photograph of her when she was about ten standing next to her father who looked very proper and handsome but with a much fuller head of hair than Ed Bailey sported nowadays. Sarah chuckled. "I tease my pa about that picture sometimes you know. Pa was always a bit proud of his full head of hair. Annoyed him no end when he started loosing it."
It took effort to swallow the last bite of food as Mark's thoughts again turned to his pa. He handed Sarah back the plate. "Thank you. I've had enough."
Sarah watched him quizzically seeing a deep sadness suddenly in his eyes and wondered what had caused it. She looked up and saw Will watching her from across the room.
Having finished his meal, Lloyd addressed the rancher. "We're going to need a few supplies. Where do you keep your stores?"
Still seated, Ed Bailey pointed indignantly to a small room in the back by the kitchen. Lloyd walked over and examined the contents. "Come here boy," Lloyd motioned to Mark who hesitated briefly, but got up and crossed the room. On Lloyd's instructions he took a couple of empty flour sacks and loaded them with some supplies. Once done, he followed Lloyd and Briggs outside to the barn while Will and Roark were left to keep an eye on Ed Bailey and his daughter.
While the rest were busy outside, Roark got up and started wandering about the room curiously riffling through drawers and opening cabinets, unconcerned with privacy. Ed Bailey compressed his mouth irritably. Roark finally came to a small wooden cabinet with glass doors on the upper half and spotted something of interest. He tried to open the door, but it was locked.
Jerking his head towards the rancher he ordered, "Open it!"
Ed Bailey slowly got up and crossed the room, retrieving a small key from a china cup on the shelf. Roark grabbed the key. In the very back was an unopened bottle of whiskey. Several items where in front of the bottle and Roark started carelessly tossing them aside in his quest to retrieve the bottle.
"Now see here," Ed Bailey fumed. "We've cooperated just fine, there's no need to destroy my things!"
Will stepped forward. "Lloyd said he didn't want any trouble, Roark."
"Well Lloyd ain't here right now is he?" Roark replied sarcastically, "And I'm certainly not taking orders from a punk kid either!" He pulled a little wooden box out with a fancy design on it. "What's this?"
"Please put that back," Sarah pleaded.
Roark held the little box between two fingers looking at the young woman. He opened it up and a soft little musical tune chimed out. "Well isn't that real pretty."
"It doesn't have any real value, just sentimental. It belonged to my mother."
"Just put it back Roark," Will demanded.
Roark smiled. "Whatever you say." He went to replace it on the shelf, but at the last second let it slip from his fingers. The little box fell to the floor landing on its side and the music died instantly. "Oops. Sorry it slipped."
"How dare you!" Ed Bailey fumed, finally having had enough and made a move towards Roark as he was reaching into the cabinet for the whiskey.
Roark swung back around and rammed his fist into Ed Bailey's stomach, then as the rancher doubled over, brought his pistol down hard on the man's head.
Ed Bailey slumped to the ground unconscious "No! Pa!" Sarah screamed, racing to her father's side.
Roark swung his pistol towards her, but Will sprang into action and careened into Roark grabbing his wrist holding the gun as he pushed the larger man hard against the wall. The gun went off shattering one of the front window panes out.
From the barn, they heard the shot. Lloyd cursed as he and Briggs raced towards the house leaving Mark alone in the barn.
Roark regained his footing and threw a right cross at Will. He ducked and spun about punching Roark hard in the side. Roark grunted and stumbled backward. He grabbed an oil lamp off the table and flung it at Will. It missed and shattered against the wall. Roark advanced but Will, being younger and a bit swifter, managed to land a punch to Roark's jaw, sending the convict into one of the winged back chairs just as Lloyd and Briggs burst into the room.
Lloyd immediately shot two rounds up in the air. "All right! Enough!" He looked at Roark who was laboriously trying to scramble to his feet.
"What's going on here?"
"He started Lloyd, I swear!" Will said breathing heavily while Sarah knelt by her father cradling his bleeding head.
"Kid's lying. The rancher tried to jump me!"
"That's not true. You goaded my father into it by deliberately destroying our things over a stupid bottle of whiskey! We've co-operated with you in every way. There was no need to pistol whip my father," Sarah said tearfully.
Lloyd let out a series of curses throwing the convict a furious glance. Kneeling down, he examined the rancher. "He'll be all right, he's just knocked out." He turned to Briggs and Will. "Grab him and take him outside."
"What are you going to do?" Sarah demanded.
"Don't worry, I just need to put you two somewhere were you're not going to interfere for a while. Take him out to the smoke shack."
Will and Briggs each grabbed one of the rancher's arms and carried him outside and across the compound. Sarah anxiously followed with Lloyd next to her, his pistol at her side.
Once they left, Roark grabbed the bottle of whisky and slumped into the chair choosing to stay behind to nurse his injured pride. It was the last time he was going to let that snot nosed brat get the better of him, Roark promised himself.
Opening the door to the smoke shack, they laid the rancher on the floor and Lloyd motioned Sarah inside. He shut the door and placed the wooden peg in the latch, then as an added precaution, wedged an axe against the door.
He turned to Briggs. "Are the horses ready?"
"Almost."
"Then get that sorry piece of horseflesh in the house and let's get moving!"
Briggs left but Will held back wanting to talk to his uncle.
"What is it now Will?" his uncle snapped impatiently.
"Well, I was thinking Lloyd, can't we just leave the kid here? I mean, he'll probably just slow us down anyway."
"The kid stays with us for now!"
"But I don't understand, you've got the money and already took care of his Pa and that marshal."
"I'm not taking any chances until we're out of this valley and into the mountains. Jasper Pass is about a five hour ride from here. Once were up to the top, any posse trying to follow us up will have a dozen and a half trails to pick from and hundred dead end canyons to dry gulch themselves in. After that I could care less what happens to the kid."
"But…"
Lloyd reeled on him and grabbed him by the shirt. "Listen up. Stay here if you want. I don't give a damn anymore, but the kid's coming with me, understand! I've had about enough of you AND Roark to last me a lifetime!" Lloyd released his nephew and stormed away.
Alone in the barn, Mark had heard the additional gunfire after Lloyd and Briggs ran back into the house and his heart once again filled with dread. Loud shouting had soon followed and several minutes later he saw Will and Briggs carrying a limp Mr. Bailey out with Sarah following, with what looked like blood staining her dress. Lloyd had directed the group across the compound out of sight.
Mark had turned away sickened and pounded his fist on one of the support beams. It was then he had noticed the black satchel leaning up against a bale of hay unattended. As he stared at it, Mark had suddenly been consumed with raw anger. They had killed his Pa, had killed Micah and now it looked like they had killed Mr. Bailey as well, and all for the satchel full of money lying at his feet. Blood money as his Pa might have said.
As he stared at the case, his hatred grew to the point that he just wanted to be able to lash back at them somehow, make them hurt as much as they had hurt him and everyone else. It was then he got an idea, a horribly reckless idea. Before he could reason himself out of it, Mark took one last look outside and then snatched the satchel, dragging it over to the feed barrel.
Unbuckling the leather straps, he took both cloth bags out. Eyes darting around the barn, he spotted an old barrel in the corner and untied the sacks then dumped the stacks of money inside. He then covered the money with several dirty rags, and further concealed the loot by stacking a few empty crates and some loose wood up against the barrel. Mark then raced back over to the feed bin, and using the scoop filled both sacks with grain until they approximated the weight of the money. He then shoved both sacks back into the satchel. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he tried to re-buckle the straps. It was then he heard Roark's argumentative voice approaching. Mark quickly replaced the satchel in its previous position just as Roark and Briggs rounded the corner and entered the barn.
Roark looked suspiciously at Mark standing next to the satchel. Mark's heart was pounding so hard he thought for sure both men could hear it.
"Get going Roark!" Briggs was saying.
"I'm not taking orders from any of you anymore!" Roark rounded back. "I'm taking my cut and getting out of here!" As Roark reached down to grab the satchel, Mark's face lost every vestige of color, suddenly realizing just what a foolish stunt he'd pulled. But luckily neither seemed to have noticed as Briggs grabbed the satchel before the convict could get his hands on it.
"Nothing doing, Roark. We split it up when Lloyd says so and not before. And with that last stunt you just pulled back there, don't be surprised if your cut gets negotiated!"
"What do you mean by that?" Roark demanded.
"It means you've been the biggest pain in my side from the beginning Roark," Lloyd suddenly said as he and Will joined them. "I would suggest you quit your bellyaching and get your sorry butt mounted before you get left behind with squat!"
"Now see here Lloyd!" Roark argued.
But Lloyd had drawn his gun and practically jabbed it into the convict's face. "Make your choice Roark, or I'll make it for you!"
The convict's eyes wavered and after a tense moment he backed down. Lloyd re-holstered his weapon and then tossed some canteens to Mark ordering him to refill them. Gratefully, Mark complied. A short while later, the five soon were mounted up and rode out.