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4
The shock of the impact and finding someone so unexpectedly at the end of the rope was considerable. Slim caught his breath and replied equally irritably, "I'd've been able to slow myself down if you'd left the rope slack instead of holding it taut!"
"Yeah?" Jess sounded supremely unimpressed. "I've got reason to know doin' that lands you right slap-bang in the trees!"
Slim could not deny this. After all, he had found Jess tangled in the branches, bleeding and bruised and cursing vehemently - but under his breath. He himself had survived unscathed during his investigation of the fort and his descent from the stockade, both thanks to the scouting Jess had done the previous night. All the same, he was deeply angry at what he had found, bone-weary from lack of sleep, and utterly surprised to find his partner was not safe in the hotel, guarding the woman who had got herself inextricably mixed up in this business. He was also determinedly not even thinking about what might have gone on in his absence. Suffice it to say, in his opinion, Jess had every reason to be looking after Chantal and none whatsoever leaving her to her own devices, about which Slim had severe misgivings!
These thoughts deprived his tongue of his usual courtesy. "What the heck are you doing here?" he demanded crossly and ungratefully and sounding uncannily like his partner's habitual reaction to the arrival of a certain young lady!
"Savin' you from makin' a hole in the forest?" Jess replied smugly.
"I thought you'd be fully occupied in town!" Slim told him.
Jess looked at him hard for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "Tal don't need a body-guard," he said quietly. There was a moment of profound thought on both their parts, then Jess went on: "That's the point. And she'll stay put when she knows it matters."
He turned away and began to walk back to the horses. "C'm on! We've got trouble ahead of us. Carlin was in town tonight!"
Slim groaned. As if they didn't have problems aplenty already! New worry surged to the fore. "He didn't spot you, did he?"
Jess shook his head. "We worked out a way to make a quick exit before he did." They had reached the horses and he picked up Traveller's reins and hopped into the saddle.
Mounting Alamo, Slim noted, almost in passing, the entirely natural way Jess said 'we'. He was also still thinking overtime. "It's bad news that Carlin was in the hotel."
"He wasn't." Jess turned Traveller and began to make his way carefully back down the gorge and the stream-bed.
"He wasn't?" Slim was baffled. "So where was he? Where did you see him?"
"Saloon," Jess told him briefly. "Where else would you expect?"
Slim urged Alamo alongside him, with some difficulty due to the terrain, and peered at his partner's face. Jess's hat was jammed even further over his eyes than usual and he was not looking at Slim. "But –"
"I won back the money I lost last night," Jess told him calmly. "And there's a rumour goin' round that something's gonna happen tomorrow – a big shipment, they said –" He paused and swallowed hard before continuing, "You know what that means!"
Slim nodded. All his anger surged up again as he thought of more children being brought in to some unknown fate, but to certain captivity. However, he was realistic as always and could face the unpalatable and inescapable fact: "There's nothing we can do to stop it!"
"Not without reinforcements," Jess agreed. They had finally made it from the gorge to a decent track and he cut short any further discussion of who else had been in the saloon by urging Traveller into a swift canter. "C'm on! We've got a message to send."
First light was touching the ramshackle buildings of the town when they rode in and stabled the horses. For some reason, no-one seemed to have noticed Alamo or if they did, presumably they thought the horse belonged to Chantal. No-one seemed to notice Slim either, which was what they'd hoped, but still disconcerting. After all, he wasn't the kind of person you overlooked. Provided there was no provocation to fight, Jess could do a fair job of merging with his surroundings, but deception was so alien to Slim's nature that he was, always and unmistakably, himself – at least unless dire necessity dictated otherwise. No-one spotted them retreating to their dingy and uncomfortable room and this time the only shock was to find Chantal had, from somewhere, procured the makings of a meal.
There was total silence as they both fell on the food like starving wolves. This was characteristic of Jess, who always behaved as if he had not seen a square meal in weeks, but Slim matched him for once, mouthful for mouthful. Both energy and resilience had been sapped by all they had done over the last twenty-four hours. After a brief tussle over the last bread roll – eventually divided equally – they both felt marginally more able to tackle their problems, only …
"Could y' just brew up a couple of pints of black coffee now?" Jess requested wistfully. On being told summarily he'd have to wait till the café opened, he added: "In that case, I ain't gonna ask where you got the food from!"
"Just as well," Chantal informed him. "Never mind what I've been doing! What did you find out?" She turned her beautiful green eyes on Slim with an expression which totally contradicted any notion that she might be fobbed off with a general answer.
Slim drew a deep breath and focused his inner vision on the layout and details of the fort which he had memorised. He spoke carefully and simply, repeating the key points, because he knew that once he had heard it, Jess would retain the information verbatim. Chantal too seemed to be paying acute attention to every detail.
"So we know where they're being held," Jess summarised, "and we know the strengths and weaknesses of the fort. But ain't there something peculiar about where it's built?"
"Yes, it's obvious once you get up there," Slim agreed. "The trail leads to the fort, but nowhere else. There are no tracks up or down the mountains around it. It's completely isolated. So what is it guarding?"
"Must be whatever's behind the locked gate you found," Jess said.
"And there's no way either of us is going to get through that gate."
"No. But I'm willin' to bet the kids go through it. Why else would they be locked up right next to it?"
"The footprints suggest that," Slim affirmed. "And whatever's on the other side is profitable enough to risk kidnapping and shipping a load of innocent youngsters from all over the country!"
"But we need to know what. We've gotta get proof." This brought them right back to where they had started, trying to find a reason for the attack on Mike and all the others who had been less lucky.
"And why children?" Chantal put in. "Quite little children, if Mike's age is anything to go by." She saw Jess's hands clench for a moment, then relax in all but the very slight movement of his left thumb against his palm. It was like the twitch at the tip of a cougar's tail.
"Yeah, what use can children be put to that adults …" Jess's voice trailed off and his face hardened into an emotionless mask. He knew from bitter experience what prisons were like and the fate of the most vulnerable inside them. If so, the use to which they were being put was too horrible to contemplate.
"If it's prostitution, I don't see the need for the locked gate," Chantal remarked calmly. "And if that's the business, it makes no sense to bring them all to a little town in the middle of nowhere."
Both men stared at her blankly for a moment, disconcerted once again by her realism.
"We know what is behind the gate is at the heart of this," she reiterated. "Whatever goes on there, it needs qualities which small children have – their size, their agility –"
"Their obedience!" Jess interjected. "Whatever they're bein' made to do, they ain't gonna be able to argue or fight like an adult would!"
"We have to get in," Slim growled, furious with frustration, "and we have to find a witness, just one witness who's willing and able to give evidence in court."
"You said the place is only barred," Jess reminded him. "Could we get one of them out?"
Slim shook his head. "How do you know what conditions are like inside? You might find them all chained up. Or they might be too frightened and beaten to trust you. Or you might get trampled in the rush for freedom – in which case the guards would just round them up and dispose of you."
Jess's hands clenched again, but he had to admit the justice of this. "What about getting inside ourselves and watching what happens?"
Slim shook his head and Chantal chuckled. "I can't see either of you being taken for even a twelve-year old!" A momentary gleam showed in her eyes as she said this, but they were both too preoccupied to notice.
"And there's no way we could escape detection in daylight," Slim pointed out. "Especially if we want to make it to the other side of that gate."
"Get taken on as guards?" Jess was not going to give up easily.
"Maybe. But did you get the impression they were hiring?"
It was Jess's turn to shake his head in frustration. "No. From what I heard, none of them were locals. Mostly gang members and not long out of prison. And someone has a hold over them which makes sure they'll keep their mouths shut about what goes on. Fear ... or loyalty … or just money, a lot of money!"
"Makes sense if Carlin's got a hand in it! He's a long-headed schemer."
"He ain't never gonna believe you'd want to sign up with him," Jess said thoughtfully, "But he might just believe I'm up for hire - for a high price, of course." He did, after all, have a reputation to maintain.
"Maybe he won't want to dig that deep into his profits!" Slim joked half-heartedly.
"And whatever else he ain't doin', he'll be turnin' in a good profit!" Jess observed savagely.
And on the bitter note of Carlin's master-minding, weariness overcame them both. They were literally nodding off where they sat. Chantal got up and gathered the dishes and plates together.
"I'm going to take these back. Turn in, the pair of you!" she ordered firmly. "Proper bed and real rest. You'll be no use for anything otherwise." And seeing potential protest in both faces, she added truthfully: "I've already had a good night's sleep. And I don't need either of you sitting guard with a shotgun!"
As she left she heard the thud of two pairs of boots hitting the floor, accompanied by a drowsy mutter from Jess about "gotta send that message to the Ranulfiar today!" She wondered with amusement which kind of message this would be? The quickest would presumably involve going to sleep.
# # # # #
Long hours later Slim awoke from a much-needed and reasonably refreshing sleep. He did not open his eyes immediately, as he still felt a distinct reluctance to move, but he was instantly aware once again that he was not alone in the room. He also knew without looking that the other person was Jess – and long familiarity born of living under the same roof told him immediately something was wrong. His eyes snapped open. Years of practice at not waking others made him slide from the bedclothes, rising silently in one fluid movement to his bare feet. Then he froze.
By the light, it was late afternoon. Jess was awake. He was actually standing up. This in itself was sufficient to make Slim uneasy. When Jess decided to sleep, practically nothing could get him out of bed. Admittedly this was not the normal circumstances of early morning at the Sherman Stage Stop, but Slim was so used to having to drag or drive Jess to get up that he felt for a moment that he must be still dreaming.
Jess was wide awake. He was standing by the window. Standing absolutely still. He had a piece of paper in his hand.
"Poco tonto, así es como eres!" Slim heard him murmur as his hand clenched on the paper. "This is just like you, Tal, you little idiot!"
The next moment he turned, sensing Slim's movement, and met his friend's eyes. Shock coursed through Slim. He'd seen such a look in Jess's eyes before: not often, but on those occasions when some danger had threatened the people he loved most of all. Certainly Andy had merited that look - and Jess's sister, Francie – not to mention Mike, particularly after the attempted kidnapping, and, had he known it, Slim himself. Now, for a split second, Jess's feelings were utterly clear.
Then he suddenly laughed and handed the paper to Slim, saying: "If I don't murder that woman some day it'll be God's own blessed miracle!"
"What?" Slim was still trying to process the situation and Jess's reactions. He took the paper but went on staring at his partner. A series of emotions chased across Jess's face – anger, amusement, pride – but his brows drew together in his fiercest frown and he said simply: "You've got the letter. Read it!"
Slim made himself focus on the paper. It was indeed a letter, in slanting French handwriting. He looked up at Jess again. The frown was still there – and the other emotions too. "Read it!"
He read:
Dear Jess and Slim, when the next shipment of children passes through here today, they have to transfer the kids to smaller wagons to get up to the fort. There's a time when they're all herded into the Livery barn. No one's going to notice one more scruffy child than they originally had. Give me a day to find out what's going on and then I'll be close to the door of the prison all night. If I can't be there or you can't get me out, go ahead and free us all when the reinforcements arrive. I can wait. Chantal.
Below this, there were a few words in French: MG Voilà les dangers que nous allons partager PT. Slim had a feeling he had seen them somewhere before. And right at the end was something addressed to him:
PS – Slim, I'm trusting you to hog-tie Jess or otherwise deter him from immediate recklessness until tomorrow night!
His jaw dropped in total amazement and it was some seconds before he was able to stutter: "S-she's going to try to join the s-shipment?"
"I presume so," Jess agreed, his voice astonishingly calm.
"She'll never pull it off. They'll find out!"
Jess looked at him with an unexpectedly reassuring smile and shook his head. "How old did you think Tal was when you first met her?"
Memory supplied the answer. "About twelve," Slim recalled.
"Me too," Jess admitted with a reminiscent grin. "Thought I was in for a long wait, but it turned out not."
Slim felt his jaw drop again at this casual revelation. On top of the shock of Chantal's actions, the sudden illumination was almost too much. Pulling himself together, he protested: "Yes, but it didn't take long to see the truth."
Jess grinned again. "It took quite a fight in Jonesy's kitchen and her smacking me across the face with that damn' plait of hair before I realised." He turned and looked at the arm-chair, which was littered with scraps of material. "My guess is she's roughed up her clothes and plaited her hair and – hey!" He registered exactly what the material was. "That's my shirt she's torn up!"
Slim looked too and nodded in agreement. "It's the one she was mending for you."
"You're kiddin'!" Jess was momentarily diverted.
"I promised I wouldn't give her away," Slim told him hastily. "So don't let on you know. Anyway, I guess she thought it was the worst shirt any of us possess!"
"Darned woman!" Jess muttered with inadvertent irony, adding under his breath, "Every time we meet, clothes always end up gettin' shredded!"
Slim affected not to hear this. There are times when the details are the devil. Instead he addressed the practical issues. "The shipment will have been made by now. It's too late to stop her."
"Stop her?" Jess sounded both incredulous and amused. "Have you ever tried to stop Chantal Picard when she sets her mind on something?"
"No," Slim admitted with a flash of insight, "but I guess it's as much use as trying to stop you when you're hell-bent on your latest act of recklessness!" He looked closely at his friend, remembering how Jess's hand had clenched on the paper when he did not know he was observed. "You ok?" Slim wanted to administer a supportive hug, but wasn't sure if it was needed or not.
"Yeah, I'm gettin' used to the shocks," Jess told him wryly. "At least life ain't ever gonna be boring!"
Life? … O…k ... Slim thought, but aloud he said: "Where did she get all this information from?"
Jess shrugged. "Same place as the food, I guess. Better not to think about it!"
"So we need to think what to do next."
A familiar priority was evident in Jess's reply. "Get something to eat," he said firmly. "An' a good strong drink! Then we need to find Samson and send that message."
His admirable intentions about bringing dinner back to the room to share with Slim were abruptly shot down the instant he closed the door behind him. As he stepped into the corridor, the door of the room opposite opened and Jess found himself face to face with the one person on this earth he had no wish to see again.
"Bud Carlin, by all that's wonderful! Didn't expect to be runnin' into you any time soon." He got all the volume he could into his surprised exclamation.
"So it's an unexpected pleasure for us both!" Carlin's genial tone was belied by the deadly look in his eyes.
"Yeah, guess you don't have much to thank me for, but I sure owe you the price of a drink. Come on!" Jess headed away from the door, behind which he profoundly hoped Slim was listening, and headed for the stairs.
"You owe me? Why?" Carlin sounded wary but amused.
"I'll tell y' when we find a bar which won't poison us both!" Jess forced himself to grin ingratiatingly. He led the way out of the hotel and down the street into the least insalubrious of the saloons. They hauled up to the bar and Jess ordered a bottle of whiskey. He figured if he was going to die, he might as well die happy. None of this showed in his face as he turned on Carlin with a countenance which combined innocence of any misdoing and reckless self-interest in equal proportions.
"Guess there ain't a jail tough enough to hold y'?" Jess poured them both a generous glass.
"No thanks to you!" Carlin retorted drily.
"Me?" Jess's expression was now one of total innocence. "I wasn't interested in gettin' you. I was after Pete Morgan. Stole $200 off me. And busted my head in! But he paid for it in the end."
"You killed Pete?" Carlin's voice was speculative. After all, he had expended considerable energy and ingenuity in getting Pete Morgan out of jail.
"Ain't no low-down sidewinder gonna slug me and take my money!"
"Pete was a fast gun." Carlin made the statement in the knowledge that he was absolutely right.
"Yeah? Well, he ain't so fancy-fast now, is he?" Jess's voice was a contemptuous sneer. Then he drew a breath and changed to a more conciliatory note: "I never intended to do more'n catch up with Pete. So I'm sorry doin' it took y' down too." The lie nearly choked him but he continued enthusiastically. "That's why I owe y'. I got half the reward money."
"And presumably your lanky blonde friend got the other half?" Carlin ran a reminiscent hand over his jaw. Slim's punches obviously still rankled.
"He got half – yeah," Jess admitted. "But friend? Y' kiddin'! You saw we were squarin' up to each other when you dropped by."
"Why?" Carlin's question was like a whip-lash or a knife thrust.
Jess positively smirked. "Because he didn't like me teachin' his little brother how to deal off the bottom of the pack, that's why! I took a fancy to the kid, stuck in a dead-beat place with no chance of freedom. So later, I lit out after the lot of y' because I didn't want to see the kid left on his own when his stupid elder brother decided to take you in and got the worst of it."
"As he certainly would have done without your help," Carlin pointed out.
"And the kid would have suffered over it," Jess shrugged. "Sometimes a kid needs a break."
"You can't afford to be sentimental in this business," Carlin sneered.
"I'm not. Later on, I figured the relay station was an easy billet for a couple of months, once I'd played along with Sherman over catchin' you. The kid would be good and ready to ride out with me when I moved on. Reckon sometimes it pays to choose y' partners young and train 'em up. That way you don't get hit over the head for y' poker winnings."
"I hear you cleaned my men out last night?" Carlin changed the subject, much to Jess's relief. He didn't sound concerned about his men and seemed to find their losses amusing. "But you didn't have the kid with you. You were with a woman. A very beautiful young woman, so they said?"
"Beautiful be damned!" Jess swore roundly and added: "Handsome is like handsome does. She's gotta knife for a tongue and her knife-hand over the purse!"
"She's paying you?" Carlin sounded faintly incredulous.
"Her father's payin' me to escort her safely to his new place in Calgary. Figured she's be safer on the train and the stage if she had a tame gun sittin' next to her."
"You're both a long way from the stage route."
"Blame the lady. She had a fancy to see more of life before her father's marries her off to some rich rancher up there. It just makes keepin' her intact a bit more of a problem," Jess scowled. "Wish I'd a job that paid less and just involved shootin' a few people!"
"So ditch the girl. There's plenty of work around here for a hired gun."
"Wouldn't I like to! But her pa's got his own ways of makin' sure I deliver her in saleable condition and if I cut loose, I'm gonna need good back-up to make sure he don't use them," Jess replied bitterly.
"But you've ditched the kid?" Carlin's sudden switch back to the Shermans was disconcerting.
"Never got started together. Turned out he had more of his self-righteous brother in him than I counted on. Once we split the bounty, we split company too. Ain't something I'm regrettin'."
"Unlike your present employment," Carlin pointed out with a grin. "Well, since you're so flush with money, you can buy me a meal to make up for two years of stinking prison slop!"
Jess wondered briefly if even his stomach was tough enough to take sitting down at table with Bud Carlin, but there was no option. "Name y' eating place!" he said.
