Yesterdays Vengeance - Chapter Ten

 Yesterdays Vengeance - Chapter Ten

Of course Johnny is in trouble.

 

Johnny POV

 

I hurt. There was a ringing in my head, and all was blackness. A glass was at my lips; the laudanum dulled everything and I slept.  The next time I came to I played possum. The ringing sound wasn’t as bad but all was still blackness.  Blind—the fear I had experienced before flooded back. I tried to put a hand to my eyes but I was tied down.  I tried to blink and realised there was a blindfold covering my eyes.

 

Okay, Johnny what happened?  Last thing I remember is…come on Johnny, think. Yeah, the Degans.  I was going to have a word with them.  A vague memory of an explosion and the jail seeming to collapse; was it an earthquake? What the hell happened? My head ached, and not just from the laudanum someone had fed me. I needed to cough. My chest felt tight like it did when I went down with a fever.

 

I coughed and my body shook, and then I sneezed. Was I covered in dust?

 

I couldn’t hear the sounds of anyone breathing. Heck, I couldn’t hear anything except a dull ringing rattling around my skull. I could smell a musty, unlived-in smell. The bed felt like a regular bed, not a bunk, so not a line shack. Not damp and cold like a cave, so guessing a house, but whose?  I tugged at the rope holding my wrists above my head; been tied tighter. At least I wasn’t in chains.

 

I was working at loosening the ropes when I heard footsteps. They were coming up wooden stairs, so I was up one floor of wherever it was I was.

 

A hand lifted my head. “So, young Buster, you are awake this time. I think the wound on the back of your head has stopped bleeding.”

 

A memory of that voice calling me that, telling me I was a worthless pup who needed to be taught my place, took my breath. “Who are you and what am I doing here?”

 

“Well, you have been in an accident. I dynamited the jail wall. The blast has left some shrapnel marks on your face, but you were lucky the bars of the cell saved any large pieces from reaching you. I expect your eyesight is blurred, hopefully not permanently.”

 

“You’ve broke out the Degan boys? Who are you and what do you want with me?” I might be at a disadvantage but it isn’t in my nature to cooperate with anyone who ties me down.

 

He laughed. “Like you Johnny, I’ve gone by different names, you can call me Vince Harper, after all that’s what your late mother called me.  As for the Degans, I’m afraid I used too much gunpowder. Still, they are no great loss. As for what I want, it’s what I have wanted for years. To see Murdoch Lancer pay for the death of Catherine Garrett. I loved her and she should have been mine.  Your being in that jail wasn’t in my immediate plan. It must have been fate that delivered you to me, don’t you think?”

 

A chill ripped me up inside. This was the man Harlan had told me about. “You knew my mother?”

 

“Yes, a very beautiful woman.”  My skin crawled as I felt him undo the blindfold and run his hand through my hair. “She would do anything for you.”

 

I blinked and tried to focus but my eyesight was blurred. A wet cloth was wiped over my face. His face was above me; he didn’t look crazy. Heck, he looked downright ordinary.  I worked my wrists, loosening the ropes.  I needed time. I knew he was either going to use me as bait to get to Murdoch or kill me. “Should I know you?”

 

He got up from the bedside and I turned my head. It was dark in the room; heavy curtains were drawn but I could see him walk to them and draw them aside. I had to close my eyes against the brightness. 

 

He had his back to me and I rubbed my bound wrists against the bedpost.

 

“You were very young.  Murdoch Lancer, your father, went away for a month on a cattle drive and his lovely wife was very welcoming to an old friend of his from Boston who arrived unexpectedly. She was a gracious hostess and I was the perfect gentleman. However, I made sure we were seen together and it was so very easy to start gossip, especially among the prim and proper Anglo ladies who, I must tell you, were very jealous of a Mexican marrying the most eligible man in the area.”  He stopped and turned towards me. “She laughed when I told her of the gossip and told me she gave no credit to such small-minded people.  I decided then that the only way to drive her away was to use her only weakness—you.”

 

I had to swallow what seemed like a lump of rock lodged in my throat.

 

This guy was as crazy as a fox drunk on tequila. “You threatened to hurt me if Mama didn’t leave Lancer?” I had to keep him talking.  I wanted answers before he set out to kill Murdoch or me.

.

 “You and your mother were returning from town in her buggy when as I had planned, our paths crossed.  You were a trusting child and more than happy for me to lift you onto my horse.” He licked his lips. “Two men who owed me favours came by. They made it clear they thought she was very attractive and a pretty half-breed child would fetch a good price in certain establishments in the border towns. She expected me to rescue her.”

 

I didn’t want to hear anymore. I know the tactics the likes of Harper and the men he hired use to hurt and intimidate.  “You really are a low-down cowardly piece of work, threatening women and children, paying people to do your dirty work. You took me to force her to leave without saying anything.” It was hard to keep the emotion out of my voice but Madrid helped.

 

“Of course, you will have witnessed such events when you were hiring out your gun.  It amuses me to think my money may have hired Johnny Madrid when I had financial interests in land disputes.” 

 

He stood over me and sneered. “It is not cowardly to make the decisions I have made over the years. It is sensible and effective. I have learned to be patient, to wait for the right opportunity to enjoy seeing Murdoch Lancer suffer disappointment and heartache. It was so much more satisfying than having him killed immediately after Catherine’s death. His vain searches for a wife he didn’t know was dead and a lost son distracted him from claiming Scott. Now it seems is the time, just when he has what he most desired— his two sons back with him— his beloved ranch thriving… I can destroy his perfect life.”

 

“You going to kill Scott as well?”  I frowned and pursed my lips. “Let me get this straight. You were, and still are, in love with Catherine Garrett, and you plan on having her son killed? You know, the first thing I remember Murdoch saying to him was he has his mother’s eyes.” I could see that thought flash through his mind but I carried on. “You might not have to, ‘cos them Degan brothers you hired may have already done it.  A headshot can be fatal.”

 

Harper paced about. “I wanted Scott to return to Boston where I could introduce myself to him. The Degans weren’t hired to kill Garrett and Scott; I hadn’t realised what greedy idiots they were. I wanted them out of jail before they could talk about me. After what they did, I’m glad they were buried under the rubble.”

 

“You thought they would be happy with what you and Harlan were paying them.” I let out a grunt. “Hired guns—you can’t trust them, can you?  Maybe it’s time you got your hands dirty and did the deed yourself. Go face to face with Murdoch and tell him of all those smart plans of yours before you kill him.”

 

Boy, was I taking a risk provoking him; even a coward can pull a trigger. But taking risks is what I’m known for.

 

I saw him pick up my gun from the dresser and test its weight. It wasn’t my gunfighter gun so no hair trigger; even so, I was nervous, heck downright scared. But I’ve been scared before.  “I keep one chamber empty and it pulls to the left.”

 

He weighed my gun some more.  I could see his hand wasn’t used to a colt; he put it down. “Your suggestion is typical for a gunfighter, but you are correct. It is time I faced Murdoch. I usually hire men and sometimes women to do as you call it the dirty work, but there may be a better way.”

 

All the while I had been working the ropes around my wrists loose. As he walked towards me, he pulled a small gun from his jacket pocket. ‘It’s now or never, Johnny boy’ I told myself.

 

My rolling off the bed as he aimed put his shot off. I was hit but not dead. I lay still, face down, blood from my shoulder pooling. I said a prayer and for once it was answered. He wasn’t a gun hawk who would have put a kill shot in me.

 

I stayed still until I was sure he had left. I used my good arm to lever myself to a sitting position. Everything was spinning and I took a deep breath, telling my guts to stay put.

 

Just like a few of the paymasters I’ve come across in the past, he was too clever for his own good, ‘cos he sure was an amateur where the gunfighting trade was concerned. I staggered to my feet and collected my gun.

 

I sneaked a look out of the window to see Harper driving away, too far away for me to take a shot at him. 

 

I made my way outside. The place was deserted.  I realised it was the abandoned Semple homestead. I looked up at the sun to estimate the time of day, the trouble being I wasn’t sure what day it was. It didn’t feel like it had been too long but I had been drugged.  Of course, there were no horses in the barn, that would have been too easy. So I sat on a hay bale and while I plugged the hole in my shoulder with my bandana gave my situation some thought.  With luck, Val would have a posse out looking for me and I smiled.

 

When I was a kid starting out in range wars, I’m ashamed to say, I enjoyed burning barns, just so long as there was no livestock in them.   I struck a match on the heel of my boot. It didn’t take long for the flames to catch hold and I watched from a safe distance. The smoke would be seen for miles. 

 

I set off in the direction Harper had taken.

 

I didn’t get far before the bleeding and concussion brought me to my knees. I rolled to a sitting position. Lord I was thirsty, and the sun was setting.

 

TBC