Appaloosa

“How long after we hit the grade?” Cole said.

“Ten minutes or so, ain’t far, but the engine’s strugglin’.”

“Anybody there.”

“Nope.”

“Thanks,” Cole said.

I looked at Bragg. He was still staring out the window without expression. If he expected action at Chester, he wasn’t letting on.

“When we get there,” Cole said to me, “I’ll go to the front of the car. You take the rear. Outside. I don’t want us sitting in here like a tom at a turkey shoot.”

“Sure,” I said.

COLE WAS the first to sense the start of the upgrade. Of course. He always knew things first. I hadn’t felt the train slow at all, when Cole was on his feet.

“You boys stay here with the prisoner,” he said to Stringer. “Me ’n Everett will do some recognicence.”

He picked up his Winchester, pointed me toward the back of the train, and walked toward the front. As I walked toward the rear coupling space between my car and the caboose, I could feel the train begi

As we went over a small bridge over a shallow dry wash, three riders trailing a saddled, riderless horse on a lead appeared beside the train tracks up ahead. Two of them were the Sheltons; the other, riding between them, was Allie. Ring held the lead from the riderless horse. They rode slowly beside the train letting our car draw even with them. There was a rope around Allie’s neck. The other end was looped around Ring’s saddle horn. On the other side of her, Mackie held a double-barreled shotgun resting on her shoulder, pressed against her neck. Everything slowed down. I could see the locomotive top the rise and level out as it approached the water tower. The train slowed, then halted, with the water spout over the boiler cap. I saw Cole step down from the train and stand stock-still, holding the Winchester, barrel down, in his left hand, looking at the three riders. I realized that I had stepped down, too, still holding the shotgun. There was no movement in the well shack next to the water tower, only the slow revolution of the windmill above it.

The three riders halted in front of Cole. He was motionless. So was I. The fireman had climbed onto the top of the cab to set the spout. He pulled the rope to drop it and stepped back as the water poured in, sending a slash of steam up. When he saw us all, he stopped and stared and stayed put. There was no sound but that of steam hissing from the idle engine.

“You see how this is going to go, Virgil,” Ring Shelton said.

Cole looked at the three riders without any sign. Between the two Shelton brothers Allie looked red-eyed and pale. Her face seemed crumpled.

“Any sign of trouble from anybody,” Ring said, “and Mackie gives her both barrels. The horses will then head off in different directions, and what’s left of her will be yanked off of hers, and her neck will break and she’ll drag for miles through the mesquite. Less Mackie blows her head clean off, then the rope’ll probably slip loose.”

He talked slowly and carefully, as if to be sure everyone understood what was being said. I didn’t move. Cole looked at the three riders, unblinking. Stringer had moved out of the car and stood above the coupling behind Cole. He had his Winchester leveled at Ring. Mackie’s horse swished his tail at a fly that buzzed his flank. He shifted slightly when he did, but Mackie adjusted and the shotgun stayed easy and straight against Allie’s neck.

“So you folks are going to have to unshackle Bragg and parade him on out here, or she gets killed.”

Stringer had brought the Winchester to his shoulder.

“I got you in my sights,” he said. “Whatever happens to her, you’re dead.”

Ring smiled gently.

“What do you think, Virgil?” Ring said. “Think I’ll get scared and change my mind?”

“Put the rifle down,” Cole said to Stringer.

“This ain’t your jurisdiction, Cole,” Stringer said.

“Put it down,” Cole said.

Stringer held still. Two of his deputies were on the platform behind me with Winchesters.

“I’ll kill anybody don’t lower their rifles,” Cole said.

It was like a painting, everyone frozen in color and time with the rolling, hardscrabble land stretching out to the horizon.

Then Stringer lowered his Winchester.

“Lower ’em, boys,” he said.

And the two deputies dropped the rifle barrels toward the ground.

“We give you Bragg, you give us the woman,” Cole said.

Ring laughed.

“Virgil, you know I ain’t that dumb. You give us Bragg. We keep the woman. You ride off on the train, and when it’s out of sight, we cut her loose.”

The few passengers in the other cars had gathered on our side of the train and were looking out the windows. Cole ignored them. His whole focus was on Allie and the Sheltons. He stood as he had since he’d stepped down from the train. He had not moved. He didn’t move now.

Then he said, “Everett, get Bragg.”

I looked at Stringer.

“It’ll go easier with the other deputy,” I said, “if you do it.”

Stringer held my look for a minute. Then he nodded and turned and walked back into the train. In the silence I thought I could hear Allie sniveling. Neither of the Shelton brothers paid any attention to her except for the steady pressure of the shotgun against her neck. Then Stringer came out with Bragg. He had taken off the handcuffs and the leg shackles. Bragg stepped past him when he reached the door, and jumped down from the train and walked to the riderless horse, and swung into the saddle.

“Gimme a gun,” he said to Ring.

“Why?”

“Cole,” Bragg said. “I’m going to shoot the sonova bitch.”

If Cole heard him, he made no sign. His gaze remained steady on the riders.

“Ain’t part of the deal,” Ring said, and began to turn his horse slowly.

“Turn with us, darlin’,” he said to Allie.

“Goddamn it, you work for me, gimme a fucking gun,” Bragg said.

“I hired on to get you loose,” Ring said. “You’re loose. You keep yappin’ and I’ll leave you and the girl right here.”

Bragg opened his mouth and closed it. He glanced down at Cole.

“Another time,” he said.

Cole didn’t move.

“We’ll ride off now,” Ring said. “No hurry. We can see a long way, so best you get the train rolling, because we ain’t cutting her loose until the train is out of sight, and that’s a ways down the track.”

With the rope around Allie’s neck tied to Ring’s saddle, and Mackie on the other side with the shotgun against her neck, the three of them had to wheel in formation. Which they did slowly.

“Bragg, you lead on out,” Ring said.

Bragg glanced back at us as he rode away. Allie didn’t, nor did the Sheltons.