Emerald Valley

CHAPTER 19

Michael Creighton followed Lake's directions. When he saw the emerald-green valley, he walked the borrowed horse up the long road toward the ranch. As he approached, he saw two men and a woman come out the front door and stand on the veranda. All were armed.

Wanting to avoid trouble, Michael shouted, "Is Francine Coby here? I'm Michael Creighton from Boston. I'm looking for her."

"Michael!" Francine disarmed the shotgun and placed it on the porch, then ran down the steps and rushed toward the rider.

Kyle holstered his gun and jerked Dix's pistol arm toward ground.

Michael stopped his horse, slid out of the saddle and ran to Francine. They embraced. He lifted her off her feet and spun her around.

Kyle looked at Dix. "Thank God her man is here. Maybe we can be rid of her."

"Hold up there!" Kyle shouted as he strode out the front door. "Guns drawn 'er not, I'll kill five of you before you get off a shot."

The seven reined their horses.

Michael, then Francine, rushed out the door behind Kyle. Francine held Bill's shotgun. Michael pointed a rifle.

"State your business!" Kyle shouted. His right hand rested casually against his holstered gun.

Bryce winced. "I'm...er…we're here to bring you back, Francine. You're s'posed to be hitched to me, like your father said."

"You filthy skeleton!" Francine shouted. "My father is a murderer and a criminal. He imprisoned me in his house. I won't ever go back there. I'm returning to Boston. As for marrying you, that will never happen!"

"But, Francine, you promised before you went back East."

"I didn't promise. My father promised." Francine looked at Michael, nudged him and smiled. "This is the man I'm going to marry. He came here from Boston to get me. He proposed to me five minutes ago."

Seeing Michael's bright smile, Bryce's face turned ugly. He pointed his pistol at Michael. "I'll kill 'im, then you'll have to get hitched with me."

Kyle shot Bryce between the eyes. As he fell out of the saddle, two of the men with him aimed at Kyle. Two more lightning-fast shots from Kyle toppled them off their horses. The four other riders holstered their guns, turned and galloped toward the road to Grand Junction. They reined to a sudden stop after a short distance.

Sitting in the roadway on Buck with Maggie's' reins tied to the saddle, Lake pointed a shotgun at them. "You can't leave. You have to stay for the burials."

"We don't want no part of this killin'," one man shouted.

"Oh?" Lake said. "Then why did you come here?"

"To get Francine," said a heavy-set man named Fred. "We had orders." He looked at the others. "We didn't expect killin'."

Lake grinned and lowered his shotgun. "You gents better pack up your things and get as far away from Coby as possible. William Deluce and Jake Brady are coming back. They're interested in Coby."

"Jake Brady?" a small thin man asked. "The man that killed Santivan?"

"The very same." Lake chuckled remembering how funny Jake had been when he'd told that story.

Fred looked at the others. "I ain't felt good about Coby for months. I think we ought'a do like he says, get our stuff an' ride." He looked back at the bodies. "Bob an' Kurt were hotheads. They were gonna shoot that gunny." He shrugged. "An' Bryce crawled lower'n a snake."

As they silently led their horses past Lake, each one grinned at him. They galloped down the road and disappeared in a cloud of red dust.

After they turned north onto the main road, Lake headed to the house. As he approached, he saw Francine and Michael locked in a tight embrace and Kyle turn one dead man over with his boot. Lake dismounted and pointed at the bodies. "I'm not burying these gents. I didn't shoot them."

"If you think I'm burying them by myself, you're loco," Kyle snapped. "You're a hired hand. You'll help." He started toward the front door. "Where's Dix?"

Mason Coby hobbled up the two steps and out the side door when the four riders came in. As they hurriedly tied their mounts, Coby shouted, "Where's Bob and Kurt?"

Fred turned and said, "They're dead. Shot by Chase."

"Chase shot them? Bryce too? Why? Tell me!"

"They was all gonna kill Chase. He was faster."

Coby leaned on his cane. "Was Francine there?"

"Francine was there with a man she said she's marryin'. He's here from Boston."

"Take me there! At once!" Coby snapped.

"Can't do it," Fred said. "We're all leavin'." He took off running toward the bunkhouse where the other three waited.

"You can't leave!" Coby shouted. "I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you!"

Fred slipped into the bunkhouse with the others.

Coby hobbled to the house. He'd kill those men for leaving. He would have killed Rory, but Rory had already packed to leave before he'd quit. Rory had ridden away before he'd thought of killing him.

Mason Coby hobbled down the two steps into the office. Reaching his desk, he pulled out the middle drawer, grabbed his pistol and stuffed it in his pants. As he turned toward the door, he twisted his bad knee the wrong way. The excruciating pain made him dizzy. He leaned too far forward on his cane, lost his balance and hit the floor face-down.

A shot rang out and Coby felt a hot bullet shatter his left leg. He screamed in pain and in rage that he'd cocked the gun. Coby tried to get up, but pain wracked his body. Once more, against increasing agony, he raised himself up and rolled on his right side. His left leg bled profusely through his pants.

Between screams of pain, Coby shouted, "Help! Someone help me!"

He heard horses ride away.

"Wait!" Coby shouted. "Don't leave me here! I demand you help me!"

The pounding of horses faded to silence.

"Help me," Coby whimpered. He sobbed and rolled on his back. "Damn you, everybody!" he screamed. "You've ruined my life! You all have my gold!" He shook his fist. "My gold!"

A wave of intense pain wracked his body. "Oh, God," he whimpered.

Mason Coby yanked the pistol out of his pants, stuck the barrel into his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Three agonizing minutes later, he died from loss of blood.

The next morning at Dix's ranch, holding the reins of his horse, Michael asked Lake, "What do I do about this horse Woody let me borrow?"

Lake grinned. "When you get to the next town, leave it with the stationmaster. He'll send it to Woody on the next train."

"Thank you, Dix, for letting me stay this long," Francine said. "If I hadn't been here, Michael may not have found me."

"It's okay," Dix said. "Good bye." He turned toward the front door, then looked over his shoulder. "I have things to do."

After the door slammed, Michael asked, "What's wrong with him?"

"He's obsessed with gold," Kyle said. "He thinks Bill found some."

"Gold?" Francine said. "Uncle Bill never mentioned that to me. I think Dix is deluded." She squinted. "And I don't believe he is Uncle Bill's nephew."

"We don't either," Lake said. "But if we find any gold, we'll send you some."

Michael laughed and mounted his horse. "Thank you gentlemen, for keeping Francine safe. Any time you are in the Boston area, you are welcome to stay in my house."

Kyle forced a smile. "Thank you kindly, but Lake an' me don't care much for anywhere east of the Mississippi. Too many people."

Francine mounted Matilda, immediately reining the mare from galloping away. "Thank you for your hospitality." She walked her horse toward the two men. In a low voice, she said, "I hope you find out who Dix really is. I'd hate to see him get all Bill's possessions if he's a fraud."

"Don't worry, Missy," Kyle said. "We'll get him to talk."