WebNovels

Chapter 13 - In The Town

"Here they are..." Cain whispered, voice echoing faintly through the damp stone as he stepped deeper into the dark cave. The air smelled of hay and animal musk, and ahead, the dim light of his lantern caught the movement of cattle and horses huddled together, frightened, restless, but alive.

"That's a lot..." he murmured, eyes sweeping over the herd. "You sure we can handle all of this?"

Colt crouched beside him, adjusting his hat as he surveyed the sight. "Not unless you plan on each of us splitting into three men," he muttered dryly.

"Let's bring back what we can handle first and call for more help," Colt added after a pause, tone turning pragmatic.

Harris nodded in agreement, "Ain't no sense rushing and losing half of 'em in the dark. We'll come back with more hands and ropes."

Cain nodded, exhaling through his nose as he gave one last glance at the herd. "Right. Let's move before the O'Driscolls realize what's missing."

The three men led what they could, a dozen cattle and a few horses, down the rocky slope and back onto the trail. The air was cool, quiet save for the tired snorts of the animals and the jingle of tack.

By the time they reached Valentine, the sun was breaking over the town's rooftops, casting gold across the muddy main street. People had already started gathering, farmers, ranchers, townsfolk who'd lost stock in the raids. When they saw the returning men, a cheer rippled through the air, hesitant at first, then louder.

Cain tried to keep his composure as people clapped him on the shoulder, offering thanks and grins. A few slipped folded bills into his hand, others pressed coins into his palm before hurrying off to retrieve their livestock. The two deputies received similar treatment, no grand speeches, just quiet, grateful gestures.

Cain didn't protest. He just gave nods and a faint, polite smile. His coat and hat were dusty, his revolver still smelled faintly of burnt powder, but for the first time in weeks, he allowed himself to relax.

(Money: $660)

Later, when the excitement died down and the lawmen were busy with paperwork, Cain sat by the hitching post with Mabel, feeding her a piece of apple. The street felt lighter, the people warmer.

"Looks like we did some good today," he murmured to his horse. Mabel flicked her ear and nuzzled him, and Cain chuckled quietly.

He didn't need a medal or a drink to celebrate, the grateful looks from the townsfolk were enough.

(Money: $660)

.....

The next morning, Valentine was alive with motion. Townsfolk and hired hands rode out toward the caves to recover the remaining sheep, wagons creaking under the weight of ropes and crates. Cain stood on the sheriff's porch beside Malloy, Harris, and Colt, watching the activity below with quiet satisfaction. For once, things seemed to be settling.

But peace in the West never lasted long.

The sound came first, the rhythmic thunder of hooves, growing louder by the second. Then came the shouting. Townsfolk scattered as a dozen riders stormed into Valentine, dust flying up from the main road. The smell of gunpowder lingered even before the shooting started.

Malloy was already at the door, rifle in hand, eyes narrowing. "What in—?"

Then a rough, booming voice cut through the chaos. "We only want one thing! Give that bastard Cain up and this won't end in a bloodbath!"

The voice belonged to a man with a long brown coat and a scar across his neck, Billy, one of Colm O'Driscoll's lieutenants. He sat tall in his saddle, revolver gleaming, his gang spreading out across the street, rifles trained on the sheriff's office.

Cain exchanged a look with Malloy, then with the two deputies. He could see the tension in their faces, they were outnumbered nearly three to one.

"We can't just start shooting, there's too many civilians," Malloy hissed under his breath.

"Then we draw them away," Cain muttered, eyes locked on Billy. "I'll give them what they want."

Harris frowned. "You can't just—"

"Trust me." Cain holstered his revolver, took a breath, and pushed open the door.

The boardwalk creaked under his boots as he stepped out into the sunlight, hands raised slowly. Dust swirled around his legs, the silence between him and the gang heavy with anticipation.

"There he is," Billy sneered, aiming his revolver. "The bounty boy that's been sticking his nose where it don't belong."

Cain stopped a few paces away, eyes calm but sharp. "You really came all the way here just for me?"

Billy grinned, showing a chipped tooth. "Colm sends his regards."

That was when Cain saw it, the twitch in Billy's shoulder, the brief glance to his right. A signal.

Bang.

Cain dove sideways before the shot even rang out, rolling behind a trough. Bullets tore through the air, glass shattering as the town erupted in chaos.

Malloy and the deputies returned fire from the office windows, precise and deadly. Cain drew his revolver, firing back from cover, one O'Driscoll fell, then another. The street filled with the echo of gunfire and the terrified screams of townsfolk hiding wherever they could.

Billy dismounted and took cover behind a wagon, shouting orders. "Flank the sheriff's office! Don't let that bastard get away!"

Cain ducked low and sprinted through the gunfire, sliding behind a stack of crates. He fired again, his bullet grazing Billy's shoulder, spinning the man halfway around.

"Son of a—!" Billy snarled, clutching the wound and firing back blindly.

Cain moved fast, switching to his Schofield revolver. He weaved through the smoke and dust until he was within ten paces. Both men stepped out from cover at the same moment.

Their eyes met, two gunslingers, no more words needed.

Bang. Bang.

Billy's shot missed by inches. Cain's didn't. The bullet struck Billy square in the chest, knocking him backward into the dust. The outlaw gasped, clawing at his chest as his gun slipped from his hand.

The remaining O'Driscolls faltered, some dropping their weapons, others fleeing as Malloy and the deputies advanced, rifles steady.

Cain approached Billy's fallen body, revolver still aimed. The man wheezed, his voice ragged. "You… you think this stops anything? Colm'll come for you himself."

Cain crouched, eyes cold but calm. "Then he better bring an army."

Billy's final breath rattled in his throat before the light left his eyes.

The street was silent again, save for the low groans of the wounded and the faint crackle of gun smoke drifting away. Malloy stepped up beside Cain, lowering his rifle.

"Hell of a move, son. You drew them out just like that."

Cain holstered his revolver, eyes still on Billy. "Didn't have much of a choice."

Malloy sighed, glancing toward the horizon. "No… but I reckon Colm O'Driscoll's gonna take this personal."

Cain looked down the empty road beyond the town, wind carrying dust and the faint sound of distant thunder.

"Then I'll be ready."

.....

"Just who the hell is this Cain?!"

The roar rattled through the wooden cabin like thunder. Papers flew from the table as Colm O'Driscoll slammed both hands down, the old planks creaking beneath his fury.

He was a lean, wiry man with long gray hair slicked back, the years carved deep into his face like scars on bark. The candlelight made his stubble glint silver, his eyes sharp and mean as a cornered wolf.

"Bastard shows up outta nowhere and ruins everything!" he snarled, sweeping the stack of letters and maps off the desk. They scattered across the dirt floor, fluttering beside the empty bottles and ashtrays.

One of his men, a nervous younger O'Driscoll with a bandaged arm, tried to speak. "Boss… the men at Twin Stack said it was just him and a couple lawmen. Must've got lucky—"

"Lucky?" Colm cut in, his voice dripping venom. "Billy's dead! My camp burned, my stock gone, and all you got to say is he was lucky?"

The younger man flinched, taking a half-step back as Colm reached for his revolver, then, just as quickly, exhaled and placed it back on the table.

Silence filled the cabin for a moment, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the faint whimper of the wind outside.

Colm's glare softened into something colder, that slow, dangerous calm that made even his own men uneasy. He picked up a flask, took a slow swig, and muttered, "A man doesn't pull all that off with luck."

He turned to the window, staring out into the dark wilderness. "No… this Cain fella's smart. Calm. Shoots straight, thinks quicker. He's got something to prove, I can tell."

A cruel smile crept across Colm's face, thin and deadly. "But everyone's got a breaking point."

He looked over his shoulder at the men behind him, voice lowering to a growl. "Spread the word. I want his name in every camp between Cumberland and the Heartlands. If he breathes, I want to know where."

Colm grabbed his hat and shoved it onto his head, the brim shadowing his eyes. "He took one of mine. I'll take everything of his."

He kicked the fallen chair aside and stormed out of the cabin, his men scattering to clear the way. The wind howled through the door as it slammed shut behind him.

Out in the distance, thunder rolled across the plains, like the promise of blood yet to come.

To be continued.....

(Money: $660)

More Chapters