“No.”
“Then you’re coming with me to apologize. Besides, these folks need to hear what kind of men they might be up against, and you’re the man to tell them.”
Joseph nodded and took a few deep breaths. He started walking toward the porch, but stopped when he saw the silver-haired man rush down the steps to intercept him.
“I think you two should leave,” Brad said.
Nick was about to step in, but held off when he saw Joseph calmly wave him back.
“I spoke out of line, Mister Hofferman,” Joseph said. “But these men we told you about are out there and they nearly killed both me and my friend earlier tonight. They’ve done a whole lot worse to people much closer to me. We’ve followed them this far to try and put them down, but there’s still some left and they’ll probably be headed here to finish the job they started.”
The silver-haired man glanced back and forth from Joseph to Nick. “That would explain why you’re wound up so tight. Come to think of it, I have seen some fellas roaming at the edge of my property. I figured I’d keep an eye on them, but thought they’d lose interest once they saw there’s no herd for them to steal.”
“They’re not out to steal a herd,” Joseph said. “They stole enough cattle to keep them busy for a while. In my case, they bought one of the hands who worked for me and found out where I kept some money I’d been saving. That’s the sort of thing they’re after, Mister Hofferman. They know about the gold you have. I know this sounds crazy, but—”
“But that’s how some folks are,” Brad interrupted. “Some men are civil and some are just animals. I didn’t get this many gray hairs without dealing with my share of animals, you know.”
“Has there been a problem with rustlers in these parts?” Nick asked.
“Oh, sure. Real nasty ones, too. From what I heard, they’re the type who spill blood for the sake of spilling it. Now that you mention it, some of my own workers have been caught poking around where they shouldn’t be.” Brad gave a single, solid nod and then turned toward his house. “You boys come in and have something to eat.”
“We were hoping to get something ready in case anyone tried to make a move on this place,” Nick said. “They’re probably going to make it soon.”
“Then you’ll need something on your stomachs to make it through the night,” Brad insisted. “All of my men are gone, but if these killers are after what I got stashed, they’ll be coming to this house. It’ll be a long night, so head inside and get a bit of food while you can. The devils will still be out there when you finish eating.”
Nick and Joseph looked at each other and knew they were thinking the same thing: Suddenly, the old man didn’t seem so careless, and he was far from stupid. His wife was regaining her smile and the inside of the house looked awfully inviting compared to the growing chill of the night.
With nothing else left to do, they shrugged and went inside to have some pie.
THIRTY-THREE
When they heard the thunder of approaching horses, the morning was just a promise smudged across the bottom of the sky in a few streaks of orange. Dawn would arrive in an hour or less, but the darkness wasn’t about to give up its fight.
They rode straight across the property as if they owned it. Dutch rode at the front of the formation with five men following behind and flanking him on both sides. His murderous eyes were focused upon the ranch house, and he charged forward until he was almost close enough to ride straight through the front door.
One of the other men was in his late twenties and had a lanky frame. He was breathing so heavily that one might have thought he’d done all the running for the last few miles. “They should be in there,” he said. “I’ll go in and bring them—”
Before he could finish, Dutch interrupted by drawing his pistol and sending two shots through the front window. The sound blasted through the early morning air, shattering what little remained of the almost sacred silence. By the time the glass stopped falling, Dutch and three of the other men were off their horses.
“Anyone in that house better come out!” Dutch shouted. “Because I’ll just be coming in after you!”
The three men standing around Dutch were the same three who’d ridden in Joseph’s group during the charge he and Nick had orchestrated. Long Face stood closest to Dutch. He had a gun in each hand and looked plenty anxious to use them.
“I’ll go in,” Long Face said.
“Fetch the old man, Ross,” Dutch shouted over his shoulder. “You’ll know where to look.”
The lanky young man climbed down from his saddle, but paused as if he thought Long Face would do the job if he only waited long enough. Before Dutch had to ask again, Ross took a deep breath, drew his gun and walked toward the front of the house. Before he could get up the steps, the front door swung open and Brad Hofferman stepped out.
Shaking his head solemnly, the silver-haired man put his hands on his hips and met Ross’s eyes without taking much notice of the other men. “We treated you as good as the rest of our hands, Ross,” Brad said. “What would possess you to do something like this?”
“I…I…” Ross stammered.
“We know about the gold you took out of the river that let you buy this spread,” Dutch cut in. “Hand it all over and we’ll leave.”
“I will not,” Hofferman said defiantly. Even though he carried a shotgun in his hands, the weapon seemed like more of an afterthought. His arms hung loosely and the shotgun was positioned across his body at waist level.
“Stand aside, old man,” Dutch said. “You don’t want to push me right now.”
When he saw that Hofferman wasn’t about to move, Long Face surged forward and shoved him away from the door. “You heard the man! He said move!” Grinning with his easy victory, Long Face started to walk into the house, only to be stopped by the man who was standing behind Brad.
Nick stood with his hands at his sides and his holster strapped across his belly, waiting for Long Face to spot him. He took hold of Long Face’s shoulder and buried a punch in his gut that forced the air from the man’s lungs.
Long Face stumbled backward and sucked in a few shallow breaths. Seeing that Dutch and the others were watching him, Long Face raised his gun.
Nick’s eyes remained fixed on his target and his hand effortlessly plucked the modified Schofield from its holster. He fired once and then shifted his aim to the rest of the men, knowing Long Face was already done.
“Fine,” Dutch said calmly. “We’ll do this the hard way.”
The moment he went for his gun, a shot went off over everyone’s heads and knocked Dutch off his feet.
The other two men who’d ridden on Joseph’s side of the charge drew their pistols in a rush and immediately began pulling their triggers. Hofferman raised his shotgun and emptied one barrel after another, the first of which sent a gunman sailing into oblivion. Although his second barrel only grazed one of the other gunmen, that man got knocked down by another shot from Nick’s Schofield.
As the men were falling beside him, Dutch pulled himself up and searched for the gunman who had put the lead into the meaty part under his arm. That bullet hadn’t come from either of the two men on the porch, so he knew there was another shooter. Sure enough, when he looked upward, he saw Joseph on the house’s flat roof, sighting along the top of a rifle.
“God…damn…you!” Dutch shouted as he lifted his arm to take a shot at the roof.
Joseph squinted behind his sights and took aim. He pulled his trigger again with every intention of punching a hole through Dutch’s skull. Instead, he tore a section from the man’s cheek and knocked the back of his head against the dirt.