Philip Dampier's Blog

Shootout at the Spring

Episode Fifteen

Lance spurred his horse to the left and then jumped off, taking cover behind a large pine. Chad should have been ready, but he was surprised enough that his aim was a little off, and the 0.50 lead debarked the tree just above Lance’s head. Lance pulled his revolver and leaned around the pine just as Chad and Buck arrived. Chad swung his carbine’s butt and caught Lance alongside his head, sending the outlaw’s body one way and the outlaw’s pistol the other way. It was similar to the many skirmishes he had been involved in during the Civil War. In a way, Chad wished he still had his saber.

Chad quickly dismounted and rushed the fallen bank robber before he could get completely to his feet. Lance had filled his right hand with dirt, and as Chad closed on him, he flung the dirt into Chad’s eyes. Somehow, Chad maintained possession of the carbine, which he swung wildly in Lance’s direction. It caught the outlaw in a glancing blow, knocking him off balance and back to the ground. Chad backed up and fought to blink the dirt out of his eyes. He wiped as much as he could with his left shirt sleeve.

Lance charged again, this time reaching Chad in a grappling move. The carbine went flying as the two men fell to the pine straw littered ground. They rolled on the ground, flailing and gasping. Each man got in a punch to the other’s body. Lance moved on top and reared back to throw a roundhouse punch at Chad’s head. The move allowed Chad to get both his hands on Lance’s throat. Chad’s arms were slightly longer than Lance’s, giving him the advantage of holding Lance just outside the outlaw’s punching range.

Slowly, Chad brought his hands together, cutting off his adversary’s airways. Lance continued to struggle and then dropped his hands. Chad looked in Lance’s face, let go with his right hand, and then delivered a blow straight into Lance’s nose. Blood spurted, and Lance fell backward.

Chad scrambled to his feet and took deep breaths of his own. He retrieved his carbine and pointed it at Lance. “Give me a reason, Lance. I don’t need much. Just move or twitch or something.”

Lance shook his head. “I’m done; you win, Marshal.”

Chad hunted down the lost revolver and then went to Lance’s horse. He pulled the bay mare up beside the fallen outlaw and removed the old rifle from its scabbard. He transferred both weapons to his own horse and then checked out Lance’s possessions. Lance had fewer things than Chad did. His horse carried more gold and banknotes than useful items. Chad wondered how the man had managed to get this far on so little.

Using his left hand, Chad grabbed Lance by the front of his shirt and pulled him rather unceremoniously to his feet. The man was still a little addled, so Chad waited for him to get a clearer head before he told him to mount up.

“You retrace your trail at a walking pace. I’ll be right behind you. I prefer not to shoot you in the back, but I most certainly will if you try to escape. In a way, it would save me a lot of time and grief. Now move.”

Lance turned his head and looked at his adversary. “Who might you be, Marshal?”

“Name’s Pennington. You can refer to me as Marshal, however. I don’t intend to get too friendly.”

“If you’re in a hurry to get back home, you could take the gold and let me go. I’ll keep going west, and you can go east as fast as you want. The banks will be happy just to get their money back. Whadda say?”

“Against the rules, Lance. I like the rules. The bank will get their money back, and you’ll most likely swing from a large burr oak, but that’s up to the judge. Why do you say banks?”

“I hit another one just before I got to Fort Pierre. Small burg, not much in the safe, but it’s in the bag with the other.”

“I see. You also robbed a preacher after you strong-armed him. I’m not too happy about that. You ought to be ashamed of hurting a man of the cloth. Now, unless I ask you a question, you can shut your trap. Watch the trail ahead of you, or you’re liable to get thrown off that excuse of a horse you’re riding.”

Nancy

Noon came, and Nancy went across the street from the hotel to a small café with the interesting name of Bill’s Beans and ordered a sandwich and a cup of tea. She took small bites to make the meal last as long as possible. Her chair was next to a large window on the front of the café where she had a good view of the main street and the hotel. Her attention was drawn to a soldier walking towards the café from the hotel. He looked familiar to her; she was sure she had met him, but she couldn’t think of his name.

The soldier opened the door of the beanery, and stepped inside. His eyes swept around the room until they reached Nancy. He took quick steps to her table. Standing at attention, he asked, “Mrs. Pennington?”

Nancy’s heart skipped a beat, and then something like fear rose in her throat and lodged there. “Yes, I’m Mrs. Pennington. What’s wrong?”

“I have a telegram for Marshal Pennington, but I’ve been told he is out of town. Will you take the message for him? I’m sure you’ll see him before the fort does.”

The lump receded, and Nancy’s heart resumed its natural pace. “Oh, thank you. Yes, of course, I will give it to him as soon as he returns.”

The soldier smiled, pulled a white piece of paper from his pocket, and handed it to Nancy. “Thank you, ma’am, and good day to you. Oh, Mrs. Pennington, I’ve been asked by the troop to inquire if you need any help while the marshal is out of town.”

“How sweet of your troop. I’m just fine at the present, but if something happens, I will send word to you, Sergeant …”

The sergeant blushed, nodded and, turned on his feet, and marched to the exit and out. Nancy took the paper and laid it down on the table next to her sandwich. Should she read it? Of course, she should; she and Chad did not have secrets. It’s probably just an update on someone wanted who might be headed for the Dakotas.

She took another bite of the sandwich and followed that with a judicious sip of tea. The tea was a little bitter, but she was trying to get used to drinking it without sugar. If, and it was a big if, she was pregnant, she did not want to gain a lot of extra weight. She set the cup down and picked up the telegram, holding it between her fingers, deciding. She grimaced and unfolded the sheet. The handwriting was fair, but she needed to lean towards the window to see it clearly.

Nancy read through the message, and from the look on her face, the contents were neither happy nor sad. She folded the sheet in half and started to put it in her pocket, then changed her mind. She finished the sandwich and the tea and then read the telegram again. The unhappy scowl on her face was worse than normal, but no tears came. She had cried enough over Chad’s absence and her possible news to cover the new interruption in her life. She paid her bill and returned to the hotel to finish her shift. She had a lot to think about. More than she was used to, and she had to do it alone.

It was now eight days. Was Chad still alive, was he okay? Tears formed and she momentarily hid her face in her apron.