Preacher's Assault

Garity’s there.”

“Why would he care about that?” Juanita asked.

Preacher shrugged. “Maybe Garity told him about the run-ins he had with me, and Powell don’t want me findin’ him there. I hadn’t heard of Powell, but that don’t mean he ain’t heard of me.” The mountain man smiled. “I know that’s a mite immodest, but I got a little reputation in some circles.”

“A reputation as a dangerous man,” Juanita said. “Un hombre muy malo.” She nodded. “Yes, Powell might know of you. Even if Garity told him the bear killed you, Powell would not want to take the chance that you would come looking for him.”

“Which is exactly what I’ve done,” Preacher pointed out.

“I wish Pablo had seen Casey, too,” Roland said with a worried look on his face. “I’d like to know for sure that she’s still alive. What if she’s not there?”

“Then Garity can tell us where she is,” Preacher said. “We’ll make damn sure he don’t die until he does.”

Lorenzo said, “If this fella Powell is as bad as the senora says he is, we can’t just go bustin’ in and expect to kill Garity and take Casey outta there. Powell’s liable to have some men workin’ there that are almost as bad as he is.”

Juanita nodded. “I was just about to say that. There are always three or four men around who are experts with knives and guns, keeping order in the place when Powell isn’t there or is busy with something else.”

“I have eight bullwhackers who will go in there with us if I ask them to,” Roland said. “I think we’ll be more than a match for Powell and his bully boys.”

Preacher shook his head. “Those fellas are tough as hell, but in close quarters like that, they wouldn’t be any match for Powell and his men, not to mention Garity. He may have a busted arm, but I reckon he’s still as dangerous as a rattlesnake. He proved that the way he snatched Casey away.”

“Then what can we do?” Roland asked. “Now that we know where she is—where she probably is—we can’t just do nothing!”

“Somebody needs to go in there and scout around a mite. Make sure Casey’s really there. I can’t do it, because somebody’d be likely to recognize me.”

“And I can’t do it,” Lorenzo said. “I’d draw too much attention, bein’ black and all.”

“Not to mention you’re way too old have any use for a whore,” Preacher said.

“What the hell you talkin’ about?” Lorenzo demanded. “Why, I’ll have you know I can still—”

Preacher held up a hand to stop him and looked at Roland. “Reckon that leaves it up to you. You’ll have to be mighty careful. If Garity sees you, he’ll recognize you, sure as shootin’. You up to the job?”

“Of course I am,” Roland said without hesitation. “If it means getting Casey back, I am. What do I do?”

They all leaned forward as Preacher said, “You’ll go to Powell’s place tonight. I reckon Juanita can get some Mex duds for you.”

She nodded to indicate that she could.

“Keep the brim of your sombrero pulled down,” Preacher went on. “Dressed like that, and with that beard, there’s a chance Garity might not recognize you right off, even if he does see you. When you tell ’em you want a gal, they’ll likely ask if you’ve got anything special in mind. Tell ’em you’re lookin’ for a gal with yeller hair, especially if she’s an American.”

Roland’s features hardened into a grim mask. Preacher knew what he was thinking. In the time that Casey had been at the whorehouse in Santa Fe, there had probably been quite a few men who had asked for her. But if Roland had been willing to accept what he knew about her past in St. Louis, he ought to be willing to accept that, too, Preacher thought. It sure as hell wasn’t Casey’s fault.

“If she’s there, what do I do?” Roland asked.

“Take her upstairs,” Preacher said. “Look for a back way out. I’d like to get Casey clear before we deal with Garity.”

As long as Casey was safe, Preacher didn’t care all that much what happened to him. He had long since accepted the fact that he would never die in bed with a bunch of grandkids and great grandkids around him. Like that grizzly bear, when he reached the end of his trail it would be a violent one, but that was all right. Preacher was just fine with that as long as he got to put a pistol ball or a knife into Garity first, or even choke the life out of the son of a bitch with his own hands. He couldn’t think of a better way to go than while killing a skunk like that.

“We’ll be waitin’ at different spots around the buildin’,” Preacher went on. “Once you and Casey are safe, I’ll go in and deal with Garity.”

“By yourself?” Lorenzo shook his head. “You wouldn’t stand a chance, Preacher. Powell and his men will protect him.”

“Well . . .” Preacher grinned slyly. “We might ought to have a little distraction to keep Powell and his bunch occupied while I’m seein’ to Garity. Like, say, if some of them bullwhackers were to go in there and start a brawl.”

Roland nodded eagerly. “I’m sure they’d be willing to do that.”

“It’s liable to be dangerous,” Preacher warned. “Some of ’em might get hurt, even killed.”

“They’ll know that. They won’t care, if it means settling the score with Garity. I wasn’t the only man who lost someone out there on the trail. They lost some good friends as well.”

“All right, then, it’s settled. Be back here a little after dark, Roland, and bring any of the bullwhackers who want to give us a hand with you.” Preacher looked around at the others. “With any luck, this’ll be over tonight.”

In a felt sombrero with a fancy band, a charro jacket with embroidered decorations on it, a frilly shirt, and tight pants, Roland looked like a well-to-do young Mexican. He wouldn’t pass a close inspection, more than likely, but Preacher thought he ought to be able to keep up the deception long enough in a dim, smoky brothel to get upstairs.