he had left the family farm as a youngster and headed west. Maybe it hadn’t been so lucky for the Bartletts and the others that he and Lorenzo and Casey had thrown in with them after all.
Leeman Bartlett hadn’t been lucky, that was for sure. He had met a gruesome death, and several of the other men from the caravan had crossed the divide as well.
“Hoodoo,” Preacher murmured. “I’m a hoodoo . . .”
“What are you saying, Preacher?” Casey asked. “I couldn’t understand you.”
“Nothin’,” he breathed as he kept his eyes screwed tightly shut against the sunlight. “Nothin’ at all . . .”
The minutes were like hours, the hours like years. To Preacher it felt like he had been baking out there for all eternity. Given the sort of life he had led, all the men he had killed, he figured there was a good chance he would wind up shaking hands with the Devil when he died, but that day felt like he was getting a head start on Hell.
To make matters worse, ants found those blood-crusted wounds on his shoulder and arm and started chewing on them. Preacher felt the cords standing out in his neck as he strained and struggled to keep the cries of pain bottled up inside him. He didn’t want to give Garity that much satisfaction.
At one point, Casey burst out, “For God’s sake, can’t you see how bad he’s suffering? At least let me brush those ants off him.”
“Garity wants him to suffer,” one of the guards replied. “As a matter of fact, Dumars, why don’t you fetch him? I got a hunch he’d like to see this.”
“Can you watch the woman on your own?” the man called Dumars asked.
The other guard chuckled. “I hope to smile I can. I can watch her just fine. A little scar never bothered me none.”
Preacher heard the footsteps as Dumars walked off. He came back a few minutes later with Garity, who let out a booming laugh when he saw the ants swarming on Preacher’s shoulder and arm.
“Just when you figure things can’t get any better,” Garity said. “We got us a pretty little honey to keep us company on the way to Santa Fe, we’re gonna be rich men when we get there and sell those wagons and all that freight, and we got Preacher dyin’ to entertain us in the meantime.” He leaned over the mountain man, blocking the sun from Preacher’s face again. “How do you like those little critters, Preacher? Makes dyin’ a mite more interestin’, don’t it?”
Preacher’s eyelids flickered open. He whispered, “Why don’t you go to—”
Before he could finish the curse, one of the other men broke in to say, “Somebody’s comin’, Garity!”
“Who the hell’s that?” Garity muttered.
“Don’t reckon we have to worry about him. It’s only one man.”
“Yeah, but he looks familiar,” Garity said. “I think it’s one of those fellas we took these wagons away from.”
Preacher couldn’t figure out why one man would be approaching the outlaw camp. Maybe one of the bullwhackers who were with Roland had slipped away from the others and planned on trying to join up with Garity’s bunch.
Garity strode past Preacher. The shadow he cast was a blessed relief from the searing sun, but it lasted only a heartbeat and then was gone.
“He’s stoppin’, whoever he is,” one of the other men said.
Garity raised his voice in a shout. “What do you want, mister?”
“I want to make a trade,” came the reply, in a voice Preacher recognized.
Roland.
Casey had recognized the young man, too. “Oh, my God,” she said softly. “Doesn’t he know that he’s going to get himself killed?”
“What sort of trade?” Garity yelled.
“I want Preacher and the girl!”
That brought a laugh from Garity. “What in hell makes you think you can have ’em?” he asked.
“Like I said, I’ll trade.”
“You got nothin’ left to trade for ’em,” Garity replied scornfully. “We already took all your wagons and freight.”
“But you don’t have this money belt,” Roland called back. “Two thousand dollars, Garity! It’s yours if you send Casey and Preacher out to me! It’s the last of my father’s life savings, but I don’t care.”
Preacher wondered if Roland was telling the truth. He hadn’t heard anything about a money belt with two thousand dollars in it, but on the other hand, neither Roland nor Leeman Bartlett had had any reason to tell him about it. Roland’s offer to buy his and Casey’s freedom might be genuine.
On the other hand, Roland could be running a bluff and trying to pull a trick of some kind. It probably didn’t matter much either way, Preacher thought. Garity wasn’t going to turn them loose. He was having too much fun tormenting Preacher, and he had plans for Casey. He might pretend to agree, in hopes of luring Roland closer just in case the young man really did have the money.
“Bring that belt on over here,” Garity called. “I got to see the money before I make a deal.”
“No!” Roland shouted back instantly. “Send Preacher and Casey to me. Don’t come after them. I’ll leave the money where you can find it.”
Garity laughed again. “You damn fool! You expect me to trust you? You’re one man, and you’re on foot. You ain’t got a chance.” He turned his head and snapped orders. “Go get him and bring him to me. Get the horses and
