Blood Bond: Deadly Road to Yuma

That agreed with what Everett had told him the night before.

“She’s blond, early twenties, easy to look at,” Matt described her.

Lopez shook his head. “Still don’t ring no bells. Sorry, Bodine. Was she the woman Dub and Court were botherin’?”

“That’s right.”

“Must be new in town…although why a young, pretty woman would choose to come to a dusty, no-account place like this, I don’t know.”

Matt recalled how nervous Jessica Devlin had been, even after the gunfight. Something had driven her to Pancake Flats, he thought, and whatever it was, she was scared and unhappy about it.

Of course, it could be anything…man trouble, family problems, what have you. None of his business, he told himself. Just the sort of idle curiosity he would feel about any good-looking young woman, and now that he and Lopez had reached the train station, he put the matter out of his mind.

The same clerk was on duty at the ticket window, and when he saw Matt coming, he started shaking his head.

“Sorry, there hasn’t been any word this morning about the trestle,” he said before Matt could even ask.

“If you hear anything, the marshal wants you to come up to the livery stable and let us know.”

The clerk looked at Lopez. “Is that true, Marshal?”

“He means the other marshal,” Lopez explained. “The U.S. one. But I reckon it’d be a good idea if you do like he says, Harry.”

The clerk nodded. “All right, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my duties here. I work for the Southern Pacific Railroad, you know, not the U.S. marshal’s office.”

With that chore taken care of, Matt headed back to the livery stable. Sam let him in the back door, and he reported the bad news, or rather, the lack of news—which was pretty much the same thing.

“So we’re still stuck here,” Thorpe said. He glanced at the wagon, where Shade was quiet this morning. “If I wasn’t a lawman, I’d open that door and put a bullet in that monster’s head. That would settle things. The longer it takes us to get him to Yuma, the greater the chances of him escaping justice somehow.”

“It’ll catch up to him sooner or later, no matter what happens here,” Sam said.

“In the next world, you mean?” Thorpe asked with a suggestion of a sneer in his voice. “I don’t know what happens there, Two Wolves. All I know for sure is what happens here and now, and the law says Shade’s got to hang.”

“Sometimes prisoners get shot tryin’ to escape,” Matt said.

“You wouldn’t solve the problem that way, though, would you, Bodine?”

Matt grunted and shook his head. “I reckon not. Not unless Shade was really gettin’ away. Then I wouldn’t hesitate to ventilate him.”

“Maybe it won’t come to that,” Sam said. “Maybe the trestle will be repaired and the train will be here later today.”

They all hoped that was true…but the worried looks on their faces said that they would believe it when they saw it with their own eyes.

Late that afternoon, a knock sounded on one of the big double doors at the front of the stable.

Instantly, the four men inside the barn were fully alert and ready for trouble. Holding the shotgun poised in his hands, Marshal Thorpe went to the doors and called, “Who’s there?”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he stepped quickly aside, just in case somebody tried to blast a rifle slug through the doors. They were made of thick, heavy wood, but they might not stop a bullet from a Winchester like the adobe walls would.

“It’s Lopez,” came the reply. “Open up. I got to talk to you.”

The voice of the local lawman sounded strained. Thorpe turned his head and exchanged glances with Matt and Sam. It was possible that Lopez had been captured by the gang and was being forced to cooperate with them at gunpoint.

Thorpe said to Everett in a low voice, “Get over there by the wagon. If anybody busts in here, stick a six-gun through the window and empty it. I’d rather see Shade hang, but they’re not taking him out of here.”

Everett didn’t look like he relished being given the job of executioner, but he drew his pistol and held it ready. Matt and Sam spread out, one on each side of the doorway, and leveled their rifles.

“Are you alone, Lopez?” Thorpe asked.

“Si, Marshal. You have my word.”

Matt didn’t see why they should accept Lopez’s word about anything, since they hadn’t know the man for even twenty-four hours yet and he hadn’t shown any signs of wanting to help them. But sooner or later, you had to trust somebody, he supposed.

Or maybe not, because Thorpe stepped closer to the door and said, “Anything you want to tell us, you can do it through the door. Is the train coming?”

“Not yet. Tomorrow maybe, Harry says. But this is about something else. More trouble.”

“Just want we needed,” Matt said under his breath.

“Go on,” Thorpe urged.

“The word’s gotten around town that you got Joshua Shade locked up in there. Some folks are gettin’ worked