“We’re trapped, aren’t we?” Mary asked.
Fargo didn’t reply. There was no need.
Mary walked on but she was back in a minute, hunkered beside him. “I tied the horses and told Nelly and Jayce to stay with them.” She showed him her hand, and what was in it. “Nelly found these in Rika’s saddlebags.”
It was a pistol made by the Volcanic Repeating Arms Company. Only .31 caliber, it wasn’t much of a man stopper, but it was better than nothing. She also had a box of cartridges.
“Do you know how to load it?”
Mary sat and placed the ammunition in her lap. She fiddled with the lever—the pistol was a lever-action model—and said, “No.”
Fargo showed her. The Volcanic held ten shots. Between that and his Henry and the Colt and the Remington, they had considerable lead to spare, should Cud Sten take it into his head to rush them. “Here.” He gave it back to her.
Mary hefted the pistol and frowned. “I doubt I’ll hit much of anything. I’ve only ever shot a revolver twice my whole life.”
Fargo turned to the forest. During the brief time he had been distracted, the outlaws had gone to ground. He had no idea where they were. Then a head popped up from behind a mound of snow. Lear, it looked like. The head promptly ducked down again.
“What will they do?” Mary asked. “Wait until dark and close in?”
“It depends on how badly Cud Sten wants us dead.”
As if Sten had somehow heard, the forest erupted with shots. Slugs whistled and sizzled, smacking the lodgepoles, shattering limbs.
“Nelly and Jayce!” Mary cried, and started to rise.
Flattening, Fargo pulled her down beside him. She resisted, but only until he said, “They’re far enough back. They should be safe.”
Twenty to thirty shots were fired, and then silence.
“Shouldn’t we shoot back?” Mary whispered.
“Not until we have something to shoot at.”
“Ma?” Nelly hollered, and was echoed by her brother.
“I’m all right, honey,” Mary answered. “Stay where you are and do as I told you.” She said quietly to Fargo, “If you and I are shot, they’re to make a run for it.”
Fargo could predict the outcome. The kids wouldn’t get far. Hunger or the cold would finish them.
Mary placed her hand on his. “Will you think less of me if I admit I’m scared?”
“Only a jackass wouldn’t be.”
That was when Cud Sten shouted, “Hey, Mary gal! Have you missed me?”
“Go to hell!” Mary replied, and bit her lower lip. “Darn me. My kids heard that. And me always on them about behaving like a gentleman and a lady.”
It bewildered Fargo, her concern over her language at a time like this.
“Why, Mary, I do believe you are cross with me. Yet you’re the one who ran out on me. I should be cross at you.”
Mary’s mouth was a slit.
“How about you, simpleton?” Cud called out. “Have you missed me, too?”
Fargo knew what Sten was doing: finding out if either of them had been hit. He kept his mouth shut.
“Mary gal! Why doesn’t your friend answer? Could it be he can’t? Did he stake a slug, gal? Is that it?”
Mary opened her mouth to respond, but Fargo put a finger to his lips and shook his head.
“Come on, gal. You can tell me.”
Mary was a volcano ready to erupt.
“Well, now,” Cud said, brimming with confidence. “Seems to me I can end this sooner than I reckoned. Tell you what, gal. You and your sprouts come out with your hands in the air, and I give you my solemn word none of you will be harmed.”
Mary looked at Fargo, and he shook his head.
“So this is how you’re going to be, is it?” Cud hollered. “Too bad, Mary. If you won’t come to us, we’ll come to you. Get ready. I’m about to show you what happens to those who make me mad.”
20
Fargo was ready. The Henry was wedged to his shoulder, and the hammer was back. His finger was around the trigger.
“Do I shoot, too?” Mary asked.
“You sure as hell do.”
Three men rose from concealment and converged on the stand. Howell was the only one Fargo recognized. One of the others was faster and pulled ahead, firing spaced shots. None came anywhere near Fargo or Mary. She started shooting but she missed.
By then Fargo had a perfect bead. He thought of the two times fate had thwarted him and prayed there wouldn’t be a third. He stroked the trigger.
Thirty feet out, the outlaw pitched onto his belly. He lost his hat and his rifle and broke into fierce convulsions but they only lasted a few seconds. A screech, and he was no more.
Fargo fed another round into the chamber.
Howell and the other two had turned and were flying back to the forest.
They fired as they ran but they were poor shots when they were moving. Quiet fell.
The dead man had one arm bent under him. Red stained the snow with the essence of death.
“I didn’t hit anyone,” Mary said.
“Next time.”
Oaths blistered the air. Cud Stern could cuss rings around a mule skinner. “I know you’re in there, Fargo. My gal couldn’t hit the broad side of a bank if she was standing next to it.”
Mary shouted, “Step out in the open and try me. I might surprise you.”
“You’ve surprised me enough as it is. Taking up with another man while I was away. Running out on me. I used to admire you for being a lady but now—” Cud stopped.
“Now you want me dead. All that talk of how much you admired me, when all you really wanted was to get up under my dress.” Mary recoiled and put a hand to her cheek. “Oh, my. I did it again. The children will think I’m a hussy.”
“You have me all wrong, gal. I figured to make you mine and treat you right. I’d bring you presents now and then, like I brought those cows. Maybe fetch you a new dress. And all you had to do, when the law was breathing down my neck, was let me lie low at your cabin. Yes, sir, I had it all worked out.”
“That’s all I ever was to you. A convenience. A place to hide and a bed to sleep in.”
“Give me more credit. You were all of those but you were more. I never had a real lady before. Only saloon gals.”
“You’re despicable.” Silence fell on the forest.
Fargo wondered what Sten’s next move would be. Charging the stand wasn’t the answer. Sten had to come up with something else, and he was devious enough to come up with something that might take them unawares.
Mary was staring at Fargo. “I can’t tell you how happy I am you came along when you did. You saved me from that pig.”
“Not yet I haven’t.” Fargo didn’t take his eyes off the tree line. He looked for patches of color against the white.
“It won’t be dark for hours yet,” Mary said, squinting up at the sun. “We’ll be safe until then, won’t we?”
“We won’t be safe until Sten is dead.”
Mary turned and gazed into the lodgepoles. “Do you mind if I check on Jayce and Nelly? I won’t be long. They must be scared, and I need to let them know everything is all right.”
“Off you go.” Fargo rested his chin on his forearm. He was cold lying there, and he imagined Sten and his killers were cold, too. Extra cause for them to end it quickly.
A hat poked from behind a pine. Fargo aimed but the head wearing the hat ducked back.
“Mary, you still there?” Sten called.
“She’s busy,” Fargo shouted.
“Ah. The simpleton speaks. What’s she doing, cooking your supper?”
Fargo kept the Henry trained on where the head had appeared. All it would take was a twitch of his finger.
“Simpleton?” Cud Sten shouted.
Fargo waited, with no intention of answering.
“Tell me something. What happened to Rika? That was his horse one of you was riding, wasn’t it? You were too far off for me to be sure.”