Unfortunately, the man dropped his rifle, which thudded to the hard-packed dirt floor. He managed to make a gagging sound, too, as he kicked frantically and clawed at the makeshift noose around his neck. The other two guards ran toward him, one of them calling, “Garrison! What’s wrong?”
Preacher let go of the belt, dropping the man he’d been strangling. An instant later, Preacher leaped off the edge of the loft and plummeted down to crash into one of the guards who had just run up. The collision drove the man to the ground. Preacher’s knees landed on the guard’s midsection and dug deep, knocking all the breath out of his lungs and probably breaking some ribs, too. Using the momentum of his fall, Preacher rolled over and surged back to his feet just in time for the third man to tackle him.
Both of them went down, but Preacher twisted as he fell and managed to land on top. He hammered a fist at the spot where he thought the sentry’s head would be and connected solidly. The man went limp as the blow stunned him. Preacher hit him again, just for good measure.
Then Preacher was back on his feet again. The ruckus hadn’t made much noise, and all three of the guards inside the stable were out of action for the moment. Preacher hurried into Horse’s stall and slapped blanket and saddle on the stallion with swift, efficient movements, even in the darkness.
He led Horse out of the stall and dropped the reins, knowing the animal would stand there patiently. Then Preacher felt around until he found the rifles the guards had dropped. He wouldn’t need to get into the servant’s quarters after all. He took their pistols, too, shoving the weapons behind his belt. He was armed for bear now.
Or for a war.
Preacher went to the double doors at the front of the stable and lifted the bar that held them closed. Then he swung up into the saddle and drew two of the four pistols. Guiding Horse with his knees, he urged the stallion forward. Horse hit the doors and knocked them open, bursting out into the open area between the stable and the back of Beaumont’s house.
Throwing his head back as he rode, Preacher let out the wild howl of a wolf. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a man running toward him. Flame spurted from a rifle muzzle. The ball hummed past Preacher’s head as he wheeled Horse around. He fired a pistol at the guard, the shot knocking the man over backward as it slammed into him.
“Beaumont!” Preacher yelled toward the house. “I’m comin’ for you, Beaumont, you damned coward! I’ll skin you alive!”
Another rifle boomed. Preacher saw the flash and returned the fire, but he didn’t know if he hit the rifleman or not. He jammed the empty pistols behind his belt, grabbed the reins, and whirled Horse away from the house. The stallion leaped into a gallop as Preacher dug in his heels.
More shots rang out, but none of them came close to Preacher. Horse never broke stride as he raced away into the night. Preacher turned his head and let loose with one final crazy howl over his shoulder, then leaned forward in the saddle and let Horse run.
If that didn’t get Beaumont to come after him, he thought, then nothing would.
Chapter 28
Preacher headed south again, then circled wide to the west before heading for Uncle Dan’s camp. He didn’t think Beaumont would have been able to mount a pursuit quickly enough to come after him tonight, but he wanted to be sure he didn’t lead any pursuit back to the place where he had left Jessie and Casey. Once they were safely well away from St. Louis, then everything would be different. Then he would want Beaumont on his trail until he was ready to make his final move.
It was long after midnight by the time Preacher approached the grove of trees. He reined in and called softly, “Hello, the camp!”
Not surprisingly, Uncle Dan was awake and alert despite the hour. The old-timer responded from the thick shadows, “Come ahead, Preacher.”
Just before Preacher heeled Horse into motion again, he heard a quiet clicking noise that he recognized as Uncle Dan lowering the hammer on his old flintlock rifle. If he had been anybody else, Preacher knew that Uncle Dan probably would have blasted him right out of the saddle.
When Preacher reached the camp deep in the trees and swung down from Horse’s back, Jessie and Casey practically swarmed him.
“Are you all right?” Jessie asked.
“You’re not hurt?” Casey said.
“No, I’m fine,” Preacher told them. “And I got this stallion of mine back, too.”
Uncle Dan grunted. “But not the pack horse you rode into town, I see.”
“I didn’t really want to take the time to go back where I left him,” Preacher explained. “He’ll be fine. I made sure he could get loose. Somebody will find him and get a good horse out of the deal.”
“Yeah, I expect you’re right.”
“Any trouble out here?”
“Nary a bit,” Uncle Dan said. “It’s been mighty quiet ever since you left . . . ’cept for these here ladies frettin’ their pretty heads off over you and wonderin’ when you was gonna get back.”
“We weren’t worried,” Jessie said, although the sound of her voice didn’t convince Preacher of that claim.
“That’s right,” Casey added. “We know you can take care of yourself, Preacher.”
“And the rest of us, too,” Jessie said.
As Preacher unsaddled Horse, Uncle Dan asked, “What’s the plan now?”
“I figure that first thing in the mornin’, you and the gals will head on up the Missouri. There’s a Mandan village about fifty miles upstream.”
“I know the place,” Uncle Dan said, and from the sound of his voice, Preacher knew the old-timer was nodding. “Chief name of Otter’s Tail, or somethin’ like that, is the boss of the village.”
“Otter’s Tail is right,” Preacher said. “Him and me are old amigos. I don’t reckon Beaumont would ever think to look for you there, and even if he did, he’d have a hard time gettin’ you away from that bunch. The Mandan are plumb peaceful, but that’s because they choose to be. I wouldn’t want to tangle with ’em.”
“Me, neither,” Uncle Dan agreed. “Sounds like a good plan . . . ’cept for the fact that it means you’ll be takin’ on Beaumont all by your lonesome.”
“That’s the way I want it. I can go after him better if I’m not havin’ to worry about the three of you.”
“What about us worrying about you?” Jessie asked.
“No need for you to do that. I’ll be fine. I don’t plan on takin’ any foolish chances. I’m gonna lead Beaumont out west where the odds will all be on my side.”
“If he cooperates and chases you his own self,” Uncle Dan said.
Preacher chuckled. “After the salt I rubbed in his wounds tonight, I got a hunch that’s exactly what he’ll do.”
He told them about his raid at Beaumont’s estate to reclaim Horse, then went on, “If that don’t do the trick, I’ll gig him again.”
“You mean you’ll go back to St. Louis?” Jessie asked.
“That’s right.”
“You’ll be taking a terrible chance every time you do,” Casey pointed out.
“That’s a risk I’m willin’ to take.” Preacher had finished tending to Horse, so he continued, “You ladies better turn in and get some shut-eye. It ain’t but a few hours until dawn. You need to be on the trail by the time the sun comes up, so you can get a good start.”
“What about you?” Jessie said. “You need some sleep, too, don’t you?”
“I figured I’d stand guard while Uncle Dan caught a few winks.”
“Forget it, boy,” the old-timer said. “The more decrepit I get, the less sleep it seems like I need. You get the shut-eye, Preacher, while I stand guard.”
It was true that Preacher was mighty weary. The day had been a long, violent one. He thought about arguing with Uncle Dan but then shrugged and said, “All right. I reckon it wouldn’t hurt for me to get a couple hours of sleep. But then you need to wake me up, so you can rest awhile, too. You’ll be on the trail for a long time tomorrow, and you don’t need to be tryin’ that without any sleep at all.”