Part 7 (1/2)

”No, sir,” Burroughs agreed. ”I've had enough of war to last me the rest of my life.” He took a sip of his coffee. ”I'm a peace-loving man now.”

”I try to be,” Luke said with a sigh, ”but somehow it never seems to work out that way.”

There was a lot of truth to that. Clearly, in his line of work a man couldn't expect much peace and quiet. Death and danger were his frequent companions, in fact.

But there were times when he wasn't chasing outlaws, and even then trouble seemed to have a way of finding him.

Maybe it was the Jensen name, he mused. Judging by what he had heard from Smoke and Matt, the same thing happened to them. No matter where they went or what they did, sooner or later somebody wound up shooting at them.

The food was good, and Luke enjoyed the meal. He kept an eye on the time, though. He didn't want to miss that train and have to wait for the next one. He had nothing against Rattlesnake Wells-in fact he liked most of the people he had met-but he was ready to put the place behind him.

After checking his turnip watch one last time, he slipped it back into his pocket and said, ”I've got to be going, Derek.” He laid a couple silver dollars on their table, which would more than pay for their meals. ”It was really good to see you again, and a stroke of excellent luck, too.” Luke smiled. ”In all likelihood, I'd be dead now if you hadn't been around last night.”

”Right place, right time.” Burroughs held out his hand as both men stood up. ”Maybe we'll run into each other again one of these days.”

”I hope so.” Luke clasped Burroughs' hand for a moment and then left the cafe to head for the marshal's office.

Consuela had been there while he was gone, he discovered. She'd brought breakfast for both prisoners.

”It was more than they deserve,” Helton told Luke. ”Especially the gal. She called poor Seorita Diaz all sorts of ugly names. But she's a real lady, the seorita is. She never turned a hair. It beats me why Bob hasn't married her yet.”

”Wondered the same thing myself,” Luke admitted, ”and I haven't even been around here very long.”

Helton chuckled. ”He'll come to his senses one of these days, maybe.” The deputy stood up and reached for the keys. ”I reckon you're ready to take McCluskey down to the depot.”

”That's right.”

As if to punctuate Luke's words, the shrill sound of a steam whistle came through the open front door of the office. The train was about to roll into Rattlesnake Wells.

After leaving the cafe, Derek Burroughs walked at a deliberate pace along Main Street until he reached the livery stable.

Joe Peterson greeted him by saying, ”Got your horse ready to go just like you asked, Mr. Burroughs.”

”Thanks, Joe,” Burroughs said with a friendly smile. His saddlebags and rifle were already on the mount. He had brought them over earlier, before meeting Luke for breakfast.

”You think you'll ever be coming back to Rattlesnake Wells?” The liveryman didn't seem offended that Burroughs checked the cinches. Any man who spent much time in the saddle wanted to be sure everything was as it should be before he mounted up.

”I don't really know,” Burroughs replied to Peterson's question. ”Maybe one of these days I'll mosey back in this direction.”

”Well, if you ever do, you know where to bring your horse. It's been a pleasure doin' business with you.”

”Same here, Joe.” Burroughs handed an extra silver dollar to the liveryman. Everywhere he went, he tried to be as pleasant and easygoing as possible. Everybody was glad to know him and sad to see him go.

That was the way Burroughs wanted it.

He swung up into the saddle, lifted a hand in farewell, and turned the horse to ride out of the settlement and head into the mountains to the north. As he started up the slopes, he heard the whistle of the locomotive. The train was pulling in, and in less than an hour it would roll out of Rattlesnake Wells, heading back to the junction with the Union Pacific.

Burroughs smiled as he thought about what that train was going to be carrying, in addition to a bounty hunter and a prisoner.

CHAPTER 13.

The train's pa.s.sengers disembarked fairly quickly, then with much clanging of metal and hissing of steam, the locomotive backed the caboose onto a siding where it was uncoupled. It pulled forward again and was uncoupled from the coal tender, the two pa.s.senger cars, and the two freight cars that made up the train.

With that done the locomotive rolled into the roundhouse to be turned so it could head back the way it had come. Luke felt his impatience growing as minutes pa.s.sed and the locomotive didn't reappear.

He stood on the platform next to McCluskey, who was wearing cuffs and leg irons again. Luke kept his left hand on the outlaw's right arm. The other pa.s.sengers getting ready to board the train kept their distance.

”You'll never get me to Cheyenne alive,” McCluskey said as he scowled.

”That's a foolish thing to say, McCluskey,” Luke replied. ”I'd think you would understand by now, I don't care if I get you there alive. I'd just as soon get you there dead.”

”You won't get me there at all, d.a.m.n you.”

”Yesterday you were so cooperative,” Luke said dryly. ”What happened?”

”I knew something would happen to get me loose.”

”You knew that crazy Delia would show up?”

”No. I just knew it would be something. And I still do. I won't die at the hands of the law, and that includes bounty hunters. I had a vision.”

”Good Lord,” Luke muttered. ”Spare us from two-bit bandits with visions.”

”I mean it,” McCluskey insisted. ”I know my destiny. I'm not gonna hang, and you're not gonna kill me, Jensen. You just wait and see.”

”That's exactly what I intend to do. Actually, I don't attend many hangings. But I'm going to make a point of watching you dance on air, McCluskey, hopefully not too far in the distant future.”

And that future was coming closer, Luke thought. The locomotive had finally rolled out of the roundhouse and was pulling past the platform again on another siding so it could get in front of the cars. Once that coupling was made, the train would pull past the caboose on the other siding and then back up so it could be hooked on.

It was a laborious and hazardous process for the railroad workers who handled the coupling and uncoupling, but it was the only way to turn a train around at the end of a spur line like Rattlesnake Wells.

The blue-uniformed conductor moved onto the steps of one of the pa.s.senger cars and bellowed, ”All abooarrdd!”

The people waiting on the platform, including Luke and McCluskey, moved toward the cars.

Luke Jensen and his prisoner were gone, and Chuck Helton was pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove when the part-time deputy heard noises coming from the cell block.

He frowned and turned in that direction as he tried to figure out what was going on. It sounded almost like a cat had gotten in the cell block somehow and was squalling. That was impossible, though.

Or was it? Helton supposed a cat could have squeezed in through one of the barred windows in the cells. The blasted critters could get in places you never thought they could. He liked having them around the livery stable where he worked because they kept the mice and rats down, but other than that, he'd never warmed up to them.

If a cat had gotten in there, it could just get back out on its own, he decided.

The whimpering and crying sounds continued, and after a minute, he started to get worried. He still had a prisoner in there, after all, and with Marshal Hatfield and Fred Ordway laid up, she was his responsibility.