Shootout at the Spring
Episode Eight
Once he reached the river, he found a sheltered place to hide his two horses among the cottonwoods; then, he removed his spurs as Chad had instructed him to do. He tied both horses to a sapling and pulled his rifle from the scabbard. He moved from one tree or shrub to another, pausing at each one to search the terrain ahead of him. He moved from the grass side of the trees to nearer the river. The birds were quiet, and after a few more yards, he could hear low voices. There was more than one, but were they just his two, or were there three of them?
Before he stepped, Luke checked the ground in front of him for sticks or stones that might betray his presence. The voices grew louder, and occasionally one of them laughed. Was it some coarse joke, or was it about Sally or his dad? He wanted to ram the laugh down the culprit’s throat with his fist. He found it hard to contain himself. What was taking the marshal so long? A few more feet and he could see the fire and two pairs of boots just a yard or so from the flickering flame.
While Luke was positioning himself for a good view and an accurate shot, Chad approached the campsite on foot from the other side. He had told Luke to get as close to the river as he could in case the targets tried to flee in that direction. Chad came in from the hillside, his eyes searching for the outlaws’ horses. He spied them tied up on the north side, away from the campfire and out of his line of fire. So far, so good. Chad stood behind a tall fir and waited, giving Luke plenty of time to get in position.
Chad looked at the two men sitting on their saddles next to the fire. Both had rifles leaning up against a tree next to their gear. The nearest man was the larger of the two. He held a piece of meat in his left hand and a tin cup in his right. His companion was shorter and leaner. His face was turned toward the larger man; his hands were also occupied with a piece of meat and a cup. They did not seem to be expecting any trouble but were totally relaxed, eating and talking as if they were alone in the universe.
Chad knew these were not hardened criminals or men who were used to being chased by law officers. They were what he came to call opportunity outlaws. That would explain how he and Luke had caught up to them so easily. They had been taking their time, living off the land on their way to Wyoming. Hopefully, they were intelligent enough to realize that they were better off surrendering than engaging in a gunfight.
Chad allowed his eyes to adjust to the growing darkness and then stepped from behind the large fir tree. He raised his voice for effect and clarity:
“DON’T MOVE! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST, UNITED STATES MARSHAL.”
Both men reacted in the wrong way, each of them diving for his rifle. Both Chad and Luke fired their weapons at the moving figures. Both bullets stripped bark from the trees but did not reach their target. Each of them fired again, causing the two outlaws to scramble around on the ground, trying to put something between themselves and their attackers.
Chad called out again, “Drop your weapons and put your hands over your head. We have you pinned down, and you’re going to end up dead if you resist.”
Chad was answered by a rifle bullet striking the tree next to his left shoulder. The projectile was accompanied by an outburst from the two rapists, “Not gonna be hung out in public, Marshal. You want us, you gonna have to kill us and risk getting killed your …” The outlaw’s words were cut off by a shot from Luke, who had changed his position for a better angle. Luke watched as the man who had killed his father doubled up and fell to the ground. Luke had never killed a man before, and even though he felt he had a good reason to kill this particular one, it left him feeling sick to his stomach.
The second outlaw rose up on his knees and fired at Luke. The impact of the bullet threw wood splinters onto Luke’s face. He quickly moved behind the tree. The change in the outlaw’s position gave Chad the clear shot he had been waiting for. The 0.50 bullet went through the target’s back below the left shoulder, penetrating the heart before exiting on the front side. The following silence was deafening. Neither Luke nor Chad moved or spoke.
Chad had spent over three years in combat under Sherman and had participated in several shootouts as a marshal, but he felt the emptiness of knowing that this had been futile in many ways. He shook his head as if to clear the thought of what had just happened. For a moment, the picture of Big Steve Long and his gang hanging from the newly structured house frame in Laramie City flashed in his mind. Killing after killing, and then killing the killers. It was so stupid!
Luke and Chad retrieved their horses, brought them into the campsite, and tied them near the dead men’s horses.
“My time to play nurse, Luke. Lean over here.” Chad reached up and gently pulled two splinters out of Luke’s cheek.
“Thanks; I thought I felt something hit me. Is there much blood?”
“Naw, but you better step down to the river’s edge and wash it good. I don’t want you to get an infection.”
Luke made more coffee while Chad went through the outlaws’ pockets and then their bags lying on their bedrolls. He found very little of value but put what was there in one of the bags. He took it to Luke and dropped it next to the young man’s feet.
“You okay?” Chad asked. “You might want to sit down for a few minutes and give your heart a rest. First time you shot a man, right? Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths.”
Chad remembered his first encounter with death from his own hand. It was a Confederate soldier, no older than himself. The Reb wasn’t a rapist or murderer and had done Chad no harm. He was a total stranger. There had been no time for emotions after his saber went through that young man, it had been in the middle of the battle of Chattanooga and it was kill or be killed.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. It was kill or be killed, wasn’t it Marshal? They didn’t leave us any choice.”
“No, they didn’t. I hear from other marshals that many criminals would rather be shot than hung or even be returned to prison, for that matter.”
“What are we going to do with them?”
“We can cover them with rocks or just leave them for the wolves and coyotes.”
Luke looked at the two bodies lying next to each other. His mind replayed the scene in the barn. He heard the sobs of his mother and Sally again. He had a brief vision of his father’s naked body laid out on the bed. He felt the hatred rising again in his own heart.
“What about taking them back and burying them?” Luke asked.
“I’ve got a bank robber to chase down. There’s no shovel, so rocks are the best we can do.”
“I could take them back, you know, tie them across their horses and bury them in a real grave.”
“Luke, it’ll take you most of four days to get home, and those bodies will be stinking to high heaven by then. Go with me or go home with their horses, but we cover these guys up first thing in the morning.”
“You giving me the horses?”
“Horses, tack, weapons, whatever we don’t bury them with. Use it, sell it, or give it away. You earned it. I’m only taking one thing: a pair of gloves.”
Nancy awoke on the sixth day exactly as she did the previous ones. Added to the vomiting was a headache. She thought it was time to seek a doctor’s opinion. She thought it odd because the headache had subsided considerably by the time she arrived at work that morning, and the nausea had gone entirely away. She had not eaten as much as normal the day before, which seemed strange to her since her stomach was empty by lunchtime. Maybe she would be hungry by lunchtime today.
She was sure the entire problem was a result of being anxious about Chad. She had thought he would be back in a day or, at the most, two, but now it was five and no word. Was that bad or good? She wasn’t sure. Her mind ran through a litany of things that could have possibly gone wrong. Some she guessed at, and some she knew about from stories she had heard. She wanted to talk to someone, but there was no one to talk to. It was like being on a deserted island with God as your only companion. And He isn’t talking to me.
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