Blood Wedding

16

Lem and Abby were happy and surprised to see Fargo and Molly again. Fargo told what had happened to them, leaving out the part about the bath.

Abby cooked some bacon and beans, and while Molly and Fargo ate, Lem filled them in on what had happened in their absence.

“We thought sure they’d killed the two of you,” Lem said. “They sure as hell killed Alf.”

“What about his house?” Fargo asked.

“It’s still standing. I figured they’d burn it, but you and Molly must’ve scared them off. When we found Molly’s horse, we went on over to Talley’s place, but it was still standing, too. Looks like Molly’s house and barn were the only places they burned. Murray must not like her a whole lot.”

“Could be that there’s another reason,” Fargo said.

“If there’s another reason, I’d like to know what it is,” Molly said.

Fargo chewed some beans and then said, “I haven’t quite got it all figured out yet. I had a lot of time to think while we were wandering around in the dark, and I have a few ideas. I talked to Angel, too, and she said something I didn’t quite understand.”

“When did you talk to her?” Abby asked, suspicion edging her voice. “She’s been gone a while now.”

Fargo didn’t think it would be wise to explain the circumstances under which he’d last talked to Angel, at least not to Abby. Judging by the grin on Molly’s face, Molly already had a pretty good idea.

“You’ll remember I spent some time watching Angel while she was staying here,” Fargo said. “She told me some things.”

“What things?” Lem said.

Fargo told them about the death of Murray’s wife and how Murray had come to blame the farmers instead of the people who’d actually done the killing.

“That’s just plain crazy,” Lem said. “But then we already knew Murray was crazy for revenge. You haven’t told us anything new, except one more of his reasons for going after us.”

“That’s not the whole story. Angel said that there was more to it.”

“Well?” Abby said. “Tell us what it was.”

“That’s just it. Angel wouldn’t tell me. She said she wasn’t even sure herself. Paul was the one their father trusted, probably because he wasn’t a woman.”

“A woman can keep a secret,” Molly said. “And a woman can be just as good in a fight as any man, especially the men around here. I didn’t see any of them coming to help Alf Wesley.”

“I wanted to,” Lem told her. “Fargo made me stay in case they came around here.”

“No offense,” Molly said. “I didn’t mean you, in particular. But the whole bunch of them is too scared to go after Murray.”

“Now that we know where he’s hiding out, we can change their minds,” Lem said. “First thing in the morning, I’ll ride around to all the neighbors and call a meeting. We can go after Murray in his hideout and finish him off.”

Fargo shoved back his plate. The beans and bacon had filled him, and Abby had boiled some coffee that was strong and hot, steaming in a thick mug. Fargo drank some of the coffee before he spoke.

“I wouldn’t count on him being there,” he said. “He’s not going to stay around, knowing that Molly and I got loose. He’ll have found himself another place by morning.”

“You’re right, I guess,” Lem said. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“You couldn’t have got that bunch of lollygaggers to go with you, anyway,” Molly said. “You and me and Fargo would have been about all.”

“I would have gone,” Abby said. “I can shoot as well as you can.”

Molly gave her a measuring look.

“I might not be as big as you, but I’m just as mean,” Abby told her.

Molly laughed. “You just might be, at that. But just the four of us wouldn’t stand a chance, even if we could flush Murray out of wherever it is he’s hiding now. We have to think of something better than that.”

“Maybe in the morning,” Lem said. “It’s mighty late for thinking.”

“Too late for you to go back to Talley’s place, too,” Fargo told Molly. “It wouldn’t do for you to be riding out alone, not with Murray still on the loose.”

“She can stay in the spare room,” Abby said, “and you . . .”

“Can stay in the barn,” Fargo said. “I knew that already.”

He didn’t really mind staying in the barn. In fact, he thought it was a good idea. You never knew, with two women like Molly and Abby in the house, what one of them might take it into her head to do. And if both of them had the same notion and showed up in his room, Fargo might find himself in a heap of trouble. Or some other kind of heap that would be more interesting, but maybe even more complicated. It was the kind of situation he preferred to avoid, so he went out to the barn without complaint. He spread his blanket on the hay and lay down, realizing only then how tired he was. He was asleep within seconds.

Angel woke him just before sunup. The light in the barn was dim at best, but Fargo could see well enough to tell who was crouching near his foot, shaking it lightly, as soon as he opened his eyes. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, thinking that he hadn’t had nearly enough sleep.

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit dangerous for you to be here?” he asked.

Angel sat on the floor, her knees drawn up and her arms clasped around her legs. She looked at Fargo over the tops of her knees and said, “I know it’s dangerous, all right, but I came to do you a favor. Do you want to listen?”

Fargo yawned and sat up. “I’m listening.”

“I didn’t think you’d get away in that cave. I still don’t know how you did it, but you made Pa really mad.”

“As I remember it, he’s never been a very happy man, anyhow,” Fargo said. “So I guess he hasn’t changed all that much.”

“No, he hasn’t. But this time he’s worse than he usually is. He’s sorry he didn’t kill you when he had the chance, and he blames me for that.”

“Seems like I ought to thank you.”

“You should. It was a weakness in me, and I know it, just like coming here now is a weakness. Pa doesn’t like weakness in a man, or in a woman, either.”

“I wouldn’t call it a weakness,” Fargo said. “And I do thank you.”

“You’re welcome, then. But we’ve talked about it enough. What you’d better do is get yourself out of here, because Pa and the gang aren’t far behind me. He’s coming to get you, and anybody else that’s here, no matter what. He’d skin me alive if he knew I came to warn you.”

“Won’t he find out?”

“I don’t care if he does. I’m not going to stay around any longer. He never really cared for me, not the way he did for Paul. He thinks a woman is prone to weakness, and I guess I’ve proved him right about that.”

“Maybe you just don’t enjoy killing as much as he does.”

“He doesn’t enjoy it. It’s just something he has to do.” Angel unclasped her hands and stood up. “I have to go now. You’d better get yourself ready. He’ll be here mighty quick.”

She didn’t say anything more, just turned and went down the ladder. By the time Fargo got his boots on, she was gone.

There was no time to plan anything elaborate. Lem wanted to send Abby to fetch help from the nearest farm, which happened to be Frank Conner’s.

“The only one there will be Frank,” Abby said. “And maybe one hired hand. You’d be just as well off if I stayed here. I can shoot as well as Frank, and better than any hired hand he might have. You just want to get me out of the way.”

She’d seen through Lem’s plan, and he gave in reluctantly.

“You can stay, then,” he said. “What’re we gonna do, Fargo?”

“Try to catch Murray’s bunch in a crossfire. Molly and I will set up in the barn, and you and Abby can get ready in the house. We might kill enough of them so that they won’t stay around long. If Angel was telling the truth, they won’t know we’re waiting for them.”

“I’d still like to know how you and Angel got so close,” Abby said. “Thicker than thieves. I find it hard to believe she’d come to warn you and betray her father.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Molly said, helping Fargo out. “Worry about staying alive for the next hour or so.”

Abby looked at Molly thoughtfully, then nodded. Fargo and Molly went to the barn.

“Looks like you get around even more than I thought, Fargo,” Molly said. “I never would have thought Abby would give in to you.”

Fargo didn’t tell her that he was the one who’d done the giving in. He said, “I can be mighty persuasive when I try. Do you want the loft or the doors here?”

“It’s not easy shooting down at an angle, but I can do it. I’ll take the loft.”

While she climbed the ladder, Fargo dragged a couple of wooden boxes over to the door of the barn and stacked them so that he could use them for cover. It wasn’t much cover, and he didn’t have much of a plan, but it was the best he could come up with. Now there was nothing to do but wait for Murray to show up.

Time dragged along with no sign of the gang. It was well past sunup, and there was no sign of anyone.

“What do you think, Fargo?” Molly called from the loft. “Did Angel lie to you?”

“I don’t know why she would. And it sure sounded like she was telling me the truth.”

“Maybe they’ll show up, then,” Molly said, but there was no conviction in her voice.

Another few minutes passed, and then Fargo heard shooting. It wasn’t coming from anywhere nearby, but Fargo thought he could guess the location.

“Connor’s farm,” he said.

“That’s right,” Molly said. “Angel lied to you. What do we do now.”

“We go help Conner,” Fargo said.

By the time Fargo arrived at the farm, there wasn’t much he could do for Conner, who was already beyond help. He’d been shot, and then someone had dragged him outside his house and tied him upright to the scarecrow in his vegetable garden. His head drooped down on his chest, and his body slumped against the ropes that held him.

There was nothing Fargo could do for Angel, either. She was tied up hand and foot and propped against the side of Connor’s house. Unlike Conner, however, she was still alive.

Murray and his men were waiting when Fargo rode up. Murray sat up straight on his horse like a general in command of an army. His beard stirred in the breeze, and he looked at Fargo with his mad eyes. His men were lined up on either side of him. They had their pistols and rifles pointed straight at Fargo.

“My daughter betrayed me,” Murray said. His voice was deep and strong. “There are traitors in every army, but I never thought there would be one in my own family.”

“He caught me,” Angel said, her voice shaky. “He made me tell him. He’s going to kill me.”

Fargo didn’t have any reason to doubt her. Murray was crazy enough to kill anybody, even his daughter.

“He’s not going to kill you,” Fargo said.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Murray told him. “I’m in command here, not you, Mr. Fargo, and she will die by my orders. And you will follow her to hell.”

“Not if you get there first,” Fargo said, drawing his pistol.

Murray stared in blank surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected Fargo to do anything so foolhardy, not with twelve or fifteen guns on him.

But then Murray didn’t know that Fargo wasn’t alone. Lem, Abby, and Molly had circled around behind the gang, and now they came riding through the cornfield, firing as they came.

Two of Murray’s men pitched off their rearing horses as the others turned to meet the unforeseen threat.

Fargo fired at Murray, but the big man reacted quickly, spurring his horse and making a run for Connor’s house. As he rode, he fired two shots at Angel. At least one of them struck her, and she fell sideways to the ground. Then Murray was around the house and gone.

Fargo would have pursued him, but he had to deal with the remaining gang members, some of whom had turned their attention back to him. For a few minutes the shooting was loud and fast, and then it was over, smoke drifting in the air and the smell of gunpowder filling Fargo’s nostrils.

Four of the gang members were dead, and the rest were hightailing it. Nobody went after them, as Fargo was sure it wouldn’t do any good. And he wanted to see if there was anything that could be done about Angel.

Abby got to her first and lifted her to a sitting position. There was blood on the front of Angel’s shirt, but she was alive and her eyes were open.

Abby tore the shirt off and Fargo got a look at the wound as he came up. He didn’t think it was serious. The only bad thing about it was its location.

“He shot her in the same shoulder you did,” Abby said. “The son of a bitch.”

Lem shook his head in disapproval of his daughter’s language.

“You ought not to talk any such way,” he said, “but a man that would shoot his own child is a son of a bitch in my book, too.”

“We’ll take you back to our place,” Abby said. “We’ll take care of you again. You won’t have to deal with that son of a . . .”

“Hold it,” Lem said. “We can take care of her without saying what her daddy is. Fargo, you go cut down Frank. Him hanging there like that’s just not right.”

Fargo and Molly went to the scarecrow. Fargo took his knife out of his boot and cut the ropes that held Conner up. Molly caught him as he sagged forward and lowered him to the ground.

“Those bastards,” she said. “But we got four of them. I say let the buzzards have them.”

“We need to do a little better than that for them,” Fargo said. “But not much. Can you round up some help?”

“There’s not that many of us left. And if this keeps on, there won’t be any.”

“It won’t keep on,” Fargo said.

“What are you going to do to stop it.”

Fargo shook his head and told her he didn’t know.