Badlands Legend

  Knowing he had no chance against this gambler, Reedy flushed and lowered his head.

  Roscoe released his hold on him and escorted him to the door. When the bartender returned, Yale got to his feet and stopped beside the owner of the Red Dog.

  “I’ll take my money, Jack, and the paper Buck signed.”

  “With pleasure.” Slade handed them over, then offered his hand. “It was a real pleasure to watch you play again, Yale.”

  “The pleasure was all mine.” Yale was smiling as he turned around.

  The smile died on his lips when he saw the three men who had just stepped inside the Red Dog. All were holding guns. All the guns were aimed at him.

  Will Fenner’s voice was warm with laughter. “Well now, boys. What did I tell you? If you want to find a gambler, just look in a saloon.”

  He walked up to Yale and pressed a pistol to his chest. “You just saved us the trouble of hunting for you, Conover. Now the first thing I want you to do is unfasten that gunbelt.”

  With one hand Yale released his gunbelt and let it fall to the floor. Fenner kicked it across the room, where Justin Greenleaf bent and retrieved it.

  Fenner nodded toward Slade and the cowboys who were seated around the table. “If you’re wise, you’ll take yourselves out of the range of fire. You see, my boys and I have a score to settle with this traitor. And we’re not leaving until he’s paid up.”

  Slade and the others shoved away from the table and backed up, leaving Yale alone to face his fate.

  Cara strode through the town with fire in her eyes. If what Cody told her was true, Yale had returned to his old ways.

  How could he do such a thing? Especially in front of her sons? Drinking. Gambling. In the very saloon where his sister-in-law was the cook. In the town where his own brother was the respected sheriff. By tomorrow, everyone would know. And they’d all enjoy gossiping about the wild, reckless Yale Conover, who still didn’t have a lick of sense.

  Not that she cared, she told herself, blinking back tears. What Yale did with his life was his own business. But he had no right to display such a weakness in front of her sons. They deserved a better example than that from a man they admired.

  Admired. He didn’t deserve their admiration. What he deserved was their contempt. And she was going to let him know as much. Right now. In front of everyone in that wicked, terrible place.

  Though she’d never set foot in a saloon before, she stomped up the steps and shoved her way through the swinging doors. It was then that she realized her sons had followed her.

  “Ma,” Cody shouted.

  She went through the doors before turning to him. “You get on home now. I don’t want you in this place.”

  “Ma…” Cody was staring beyond her.

  She turned. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she saw Yale standing near the poker table. In quick strides she crossed the room and pushed past the man beside him to poke a finger in his chest.

  “How dare you leave my sons in the street while you come in this…this saloon.”

  His voice was deadly quiet. “Go home, Cara.”

  “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Send me home to be a good little woman while you…drink and gamble like some…”

  “Gambler,” he said softly. “That’s what I am. What I’ll always be. Now go home, Cara. And take the boys with you.” His tone deepened. “Right this minute.”

  At the harsh look in his eyes she backed up a step. Then finding her courage she wagged a finger in his face. “Oh, yes. I’ll go. I certainly have no intention of staying in this filthy place. But know this, Yale Conover. I don’t ever want to see your miserable face again. Do you understand me? Whatever I thought….” She swallowed, fighting back the emotion that was threatening to undo all her courage. “Whatever I was beginning to believe about you was all a lie. I know that now. A skunk can’t be tamed into a housepet. And neither can you. All you’ll ever be is a no-good drinking, gambling fool. My pa was right about you. You’re not good enough for me. You weren’t when we were young, and you aren’t now. So just stay away from my boys and me. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” His hands fisted at his sides. His voice remained completely unemotional. “Go on now. Get out of here.”

  Her jaw dropped. And though tears threatened, she managed to blink them away. “That’s it then? That’s all you’re going to say? You’re just sending me away, never to see you again, and all you can say is get out of here?”

  He started to reach for her, then thought better of it and merely stared at her with a mixture of pain and fury. “That’s right. Now go. Get out.” He glanced over at her sons, who were cowering near the door. “Take your mother home now. You hear me?”

  “Yes, sir.” Cody hurried over to catch her hand.

  In a state of shock she allowed herself to be led out of the saloon.

  As she walked through the swinging doors she heard a voice say, “That was good. You’re real smooth, Conover.”

  She froze. She’d heard that voice before. At her ranch, when he’d shouted his threats. And then again when they’d taken refuge in the mine shaft. And though she’d never seen his face, she would never forget that voice.

  Will Fenner.

  And those men standing in the dim shadows hadn’t been drinking and gambling in the Red Dog. They were part of his gang.

  Catching her sons’ hands she began running toward the jail. Their only hope was to summon Gabe as fast as possible. Knowing Fenner’s temper, he wouldn’t waste any time before taking his revenge on Yale.

  Sweet heaven. Hadn’t Yale warned her that Fenner would take this personally? He saw Yale as his enemy. The man who’d betrayed him. And he wouldn’t rest now until he’d exacted the ultimate price for that betrayal.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  By the time Cara reached the jail her breath was burning her lungs. As she stood in the doorway she called to a boy of about six, “The sheriff. We need him right away.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.” The little boy smiled. “The sheriff and my pa, Lars Swensen, got word that a gang of outlaws were a few miles outside of town. That’s where they’ve gone. To arrest them.”

  “Can you go after them?”

  The boy shrugged. “I don’t think they’d like that, ma’am. My pa told me to wait here for them.”

  “Listen to me.” She struggled for breath and had to keep herself from shaking the boy into submission. “You have to find them and bring them back right away. The gang of outlaws isn’t out there beyond the town. Those men are right here. In the Red Dog.”

  At her words the boy’s eyes widened. “You sure of that, ma’am?”

  “I am. And if you don’t fetch the sheriff right away, his brother will die.”

  He brushed past her and pulled himself onto the back of a pony. “I’ll go as fast as I can, ma’am.”

  Desperate, Cara looked around, then seeing a locked wooden cabinet containing several rifles, she grabbed up the broom from a corner of the room and began prying open the door of the cabinet.

  “Ma. What are you doing?” Cody grabbed at her arm but, like a crazy woman, she brushed him aside and continued battering the cabinet until the door finally gave.

  She reached in and snatched up a rifle and a pouch of ammunition. Her hands were shaking so badly she fumbled and dropped several of the bullets before finally managing to load the rifle.

  Turning to her son she ordered, “Cody, stay here with your brother.”

  Then she started running toward the saloon, praying she wouldn’t be too late.

  Will Fenner’s eyes were hot with fury as he faced the man who had fueled his festering anger across a long and tedious trail.

  “When Justin first brought you to us in the Badlands, I had a funny feeling about you, Conover. You were too smooth. Too polished. And you had way too many questions. I thought you might be the law. There’ve been lawmen in the past that tried to pass themselves off as outlaws hiding in the Badlands in ord
er to arrest entire gangs. I figured you for one of them.” His teeth peeled back in a snarl. “You’ll never know how many times I’ve wished I’d followed my first instinct about you and just shot you where you stood.” He glanced at his gang members. “There’s a lesson to be learned here, boys. Next time, shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Rafe threw back his head and roared. “I’m with you, Will. Now how about some whiskey? We’ve been on the trail a long time.”

  Fenner nodded. “Bartender. Get over here and pour us some whiskey.”

  Roscoe Timmons slunk out of the shadows in the corner and stepped behind the bar, pouring the contents of a bottle into three glasses. Then he walked among the men, handing them out.

  Before he’d even given away the last glass, the first ones were already emptied, and he was forced to retrieve the bottle and pass among them refilling their glasses. Rafe grabbed the bottle from his hands and lifted it to his lips, completely ignoring the whiskey that trickled down the front of his shirt.

  Fenner drained his glass and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, all the while keeping a narrowed gaze on Yale’s face. “You’re real smooth, Conover. With that pretty-boy face and those soft gambler’s hands. I bet you’ve never done a lick of work in your life.”

  Yale gave a slow, easy smile, hoping to keep this outlaw talking, while he figured out his next step. “Work is for suckers. I found out early in life a better way to make a living.”

  Fenner chuckled. “Me, too.” He turned to his men. “Didn’t I, boys?” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Yale take a step forward and swung his head back, jamming his pistol in Yale’s chest. “But I’m no fool, pretty boy.” His eyes narrowed. “You think you can take on me and my gang and walk out of this place alive?”

  Yale met his stare with cool appraisal. “You call three men a gang? What happened to the rest?”

  “Thanks to you, the rest are either dead or ran off in the night, afraid of what might happen next.” He gave Yale a chilling look. “But I don’t need any help killing you. It’s going to be a pleasure. And this time, you’re not going to wiggle your way to freedom, are you?”

  “I could if you’d give me a fighting chance.” Yale nodded toward his gunbelt, in the hands of Justin Greenleaf. “Just toss me one of my guns, and I’ll show you how.”

  “Now I know you take me for a fool. Maybe all that sweet-talking nonsense works on the ladies, but you’re dealing with men now.”

  Yale’s voice was pure ice. “No. I’m dealing with cowards. Men who plot and scheme to use their violence on a helpless widow and her children.”

  Fenner’s eyes grew hot with fury. “It was a good plan. And it would’ve worked if you hadn’t spoiled everything.”

  A voice in the doorway had everyone turning. “If you and your men had your way, my ranch would have become your hideout. And my boys and I would be dead. It’s only because of the goodness and courage of Yale Conover that we got through that ordeal safely. Now drop your guns.”

  For the space of several seconds the saloon went deadly quiet as everyone studied the slender figure in the doorway, looking incongruous in her delicate pink gown, taking aim with a rifle. A rifle pointed at Will Fenner.

  Fenner turned to his men. “Are you just going to stand there and let one skinny woman give us orders?”

  “If either of you takes a single step toward me, I’ll shoot your leader.” Though Cara’s legs were trembling beneath the long skirt, her voice sounded strong and steady.

  A feral smile curled Fenner’s lips. “Well now. Isn’t this interesting?” He kept his pistol aimed at Yale. “I see you’ve sweet-talked your way into another female’s heart. And probably into her bed, didn’t you, Conover?” He lifted his head. “I say the lady’s bluffing. But just to guarantee that she doesn’t get away with this, if she shoots me, I’ll see that this traitor dies with me.” He gave a chilling laugh. “Now what do you say, woman?”

  Taking advantage of her momentary hesitation, Rafe started toward her, causing her to back up.

  “You see?” Fenner challenged. “Take her gun, Rafe.”

  As the burly outlaw reached for her rifle, a small figure stepped through the swinging doors. A quavering voice called, “Don’t you touch my ma.”

  Cody stood there, taking aim with a rifle he’d taken from the sheriff’s cabinet. And though his hands were shaking, he stood his ground.

  “You going to let a scared kid stop you?” Fenner demanded.

  “I am when his rifle’s pointed at me.” Rafe stood still, assessing the situation.

  Fenner’s patience snapped. “You do as you’re told.”

  As Rafe stepped closer, little Seth darted underneath the swinging doors and scrambled to his feet holding a rifle that was bigger than he.

  Now it was Rafe’s turn to back up, with three guns pointed at him.

  Seeing it, Fenner gave a hiss of frustration. “I suppose this scrawny brat’s going to tell me he can shoot that gun.” When Seth said nothing, Fenner taunted, “What’s the matter, boy? Too afraid to even get a word out?”

  Cody took a protective step closer to his little brother. “Seth can’t talk.”

  “A mute?” Fenner threw back his head and laughed as Rafe, finding his courage, started forward again. “Isn’t this rich, boys? The only thing keeping us from getting our revenge against this traitor is a poor little widow and her two useless sons. It’s time to teach these fools a lesson. Take their guns, Rafe.”

  The scar-faced outlaw grinned. “As easy as swatting flies, Will.”

  Rafe swept a hand out, knocking the rifle from Seth’s hands. In that same instant Cody squeezed off a shot, and the outlaw let out a howl of pain as he grabbed his shoulder and dropped to the floor.

  Cara, seeing Justin Greenleaf aiming his gun at her son, took aim and fired, sending him whirling backward against the wall, where he slid to the floor, looking dazed and helpless.

  Yale used that moment to lunge forward, pressing Fenner up against the poker table as he wrestled desperately for the outlaw’s gun.

  Cara and her sons were forced to stand by and watch helplessly, knowing they could just as easily shoot Yale as the outlaw.

  There was a roar of gunfire, and Yale seemed to stiffen, before his arm, dripping blood, dropped uselessly by his side. Using him as a shield, Fenner wrapped a beefy arm around his throat and ordered Cara and her son to drop their guns. Cody looked to Cara for guidance.

  Seeing her hesitation, Fenner lifted his pistol to Yale’s temple. “If you don’t drop them right now, I’ll blow this gambler away right before your eyes. Is that what you want?”

  Through a blur of pain Yale shook his head. “Don’t do it. He’s going to kill me anyway. Those weapons are your only defense.”

  Cara’s voice trembled with emotion. “Promise me you’ll spare his life if we throw down our guns.”

  A grinning Fenner lowered the pistol. “I give you my word.”

  When they dropped their rifles, Fenner motioned to Justin Greenleaf, who was sitting weakly against the wall, still holding Yale’s gunbelt in his hand. “If the woman or her brats make a move, shoot them.”

  He stepped away from Yale. “Now, traitor, you’ll taste my revenge. And I promise you, it’s going to be slow and painful.”

  Cara let out a cry of horror. “You gave me your word you’d spare his life.”

  The outlaw gave a chilling laugh. “You’ve just learned a valuable lesson, woman. Never trust the word of an outlaw.”

  Slowly, deliberately, he fired a second shot into Yale’s shoulder.

  The force of the bullet drove Yale backward, against the poker table, where he clutched the edge before sinking slowly to the floor.

  Across the room Cara dropped to her knees, sobbing. Her two sons seemed frozen in place as they watched the scene unfolding before them.

  Fenner stood smirking as blood streamed through Yale’s fingers and spilled in an ever-widening pool on the floor around him. “When I’m
through with you, pretty-boy, no one will even recognize you. Now you’re going to learn what it means to cross Will Fenner.”

  He lifted the pistol again and took aim. As he did, little Seth launched himself across the room shouting, “No. Don’t you touch him.”

  Cara and Cody were so startled, it took them a moment to react. Then, seeing Seth throwing himself at the outlaw’s back, they raced across the room to stop the little boy before he could be harmed.

  Furious, Fenner tossed the boy to the floor in a heap. Then seeing Cody and Cara heading toward him, he took aim at them. “Stop right there or I’ll kill all of you.”

  Through a haze of pain Yale realized that Cody and Cara had no chance against the outlaw’s gun. Through sheer force of will he staggered to his feet and stumbled forward, determined to put himself between them and the line of fire.

  Just as he did, Fenner turned toward him and took aim. There was a tremendous explosion of sound. Yale looked up, wondering why he was still standing. Then he realized the shot hadn’t come from Fenner’s gun, but from somewhere across the room. He looked over to see Justin Greenleaf, looking grim as death.

  “You once saved my life, Conover,” he said softly. “Now we’re even.” He turned to Rafe, who, though still alive, was too wounded to stand. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen enough killing to last me a lifetime.”

  Cara and her sons crowded around Yale, who had slumped to the floor.

  “Oh, my darling.” Cara stared at the pool of blood and lifted his head to her lap. “Please don’t die, Yale.”

  He managed a slight smile, before the pain rocked him. “…don’t want to die, Cara.…want to live for…” He touched a hand to Cody’s face, then Seth’s. “You were both so brave.”

  “You taught us how,” Cody said.

  His hand lingered on Seth’s cheek. “You picked a good time to have something to say, son.”

  Seth burst into tears.

  “I’m so sorry for the things I said earlier, Yale.” Like her son, Cara’s tears rolled down her cheeks, splashing on his blood-spattered coat. “I feel so ashamed.”