CHAPTER TEN

Edge took his time going back to town, safe from pursuit

and unwilling to reach his destination before nightfall. So

he rode slowly and easily, pacing his mount at an even

walk, the beast proving herself obedient and eager to

respond to the demands of her rider. Probably, Edge

considered idly, she was grateful to be carrying a normal

size man after her stint under the barrel named Brady.

After the trapped heat of the bowl in the gully, that

poured down by the afternoon sun felt almost fresh. Edge

breathed deeply of the fresh air and experienced a renewal

of energy as the final shred of tension was eased from his

mind and body. When he had been in danger, physically

and mentally alert to the hostility of those around him, he

had been unaware of the strain building up within him.

There had been no time, let alone inclination, for him to

sense the harsh coiling of nerve ends. Not until he was

alone, able to relax from constant watchfulness, did the

reaction set in. But immediately, as he realized his own

invincibility to objective and subjective violence; the utter

lack of emotion he felt towards it; his cool ability to deal

with it, the after effects diminished, then disappeared.

He did not attempt to analyze the new character that

had been born with the new name, Edge. He had seen and

experienced much during the war between the States which

had set a pattern for his future philosophy, but he had

returned from the fighting with a firm intention to take up

at the farmstead where he had left off. But then he had

found Jamie and seen what they had done to his kid brother

and the horror of the discovery had shattered the pattern,

spreading it wide. What had been a frame of mind,

malleable and capable of being influenced by extraneous

circumstances

was

suddenly

a

physical

force

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communicated to every part of his body, like the very blood

in his veins.

But Edge"s thoughts were not running along those

lines as he dawdled into Anson City. He simply knew that

he felt hard and dangerous, as deadly and unemotional as

his Henry repeater; and as capable, whatever the odds, of

avenging Jamie"s killing. That was all he needed to know.

Whatever component parts made up the whole were

irrelevant. The utter completeness of the whole was what

was important.

When he halted to drink from a stream and replenish

his water bottles he caught sight of his face in the rippling

water, and ran a hand over his two-day-old stubble,

contemplating his unsteady image for several moments.

The horse, neck and head bent to drink beside him, looked

at Edge with jaundiced eyes.

Edge grinned, the glinting eyes and bared teeth,

crinkled skin of the cheeks and rippling of the water-

beaded beard made him look meaner than when his features

were in repose.

“So maybe I ain"t the most handsome man in the

West,” he told the horse. “But it ain"t that kind of a date.”

The horse snorted and shook her head violently, as if

making a comment on Edge"s remark. He laughed, took

hold of the bridle and walked for a while, so that the pace

was even slower than before. Edge began to think the sun

would never complete its slow slide down below the

western horizon. But it did, finally, as Edge sat at the foot

of a bank off the trail leading into Anson City, chewing on

a stale, many day"s old piece of biscuit he had found in the

bottom of one of the saddlebags.

Twilight was short lived, the grayness dissolving into

the black of true night with its normal accompaniment of

fast cooling air. When he stood, Edge could see directly

down the trail to the twinkling lights of Anson City,

looking beguilingly friendly in the wilderness surrounding

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the settlement. A light breeze sprung up and the horse,

catching a scent of other animals, perhaps even picking up

the smell of feed from the livery stable, was anxious to

press on. But Edge held her back, cutting off the trail to the

north, swinging a wide arc, skirting a tract of wooded

countryside, halting when he drew level with the rear of the

restaurant. Edge was upwind of the town now and his horse

had lost interest, content to rely upon the rider for guidance.

Edge slid off the saddle, led his mount into the wood and

tethered her to some brush.

He took the Henry and set out on foot, heading down

a grassy slope that canted towards town from the north,

offering no cover whatever. But the moon was not yet high

enough to provide a great deal of light and anybody below

would have to be on lookout for an interloper to have a

chance to spot Edge as he zigzagged downwards. But

nobody was.

Edge figured it was not yet eight-o"clock, but Anson

City was as quiet as a ghost town, the kerosene lamps in the

saloon and hotel and restaurant providing the only sign of

human habitation. There was not a soul moving on the

street and the silence was absolute. But Edge sensed no

danger in the stillness. The town was the center of a

farming community, and such folk maintained the

philosophy of early to bed, early to rise.

The restaurant was the last building in town, on the

opposite side of the street from where Edge stood, before it

split and split again to give access to the farmstead on

higher ground. As Edge peered across and in through the

lighted windows, he saw a movement inside. It was Annie,

tall and blonde, more attractive, in the flattering artificial

light than she had been in the sheriff"s office. As she

moved from a doorway at the rear of the restaurant, walked

between the dozen or so tables, her hands went behind her

and she shrugged out of her apron, tossed it over the back

of a chair.

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Edge smiled as he realized the woman was preparing

to end her day"s work. But then he made a sound of

annoyance, for she was not alone. Her lips moved in words

which were silent to Edge, but not to another man, who had

been waiting, perhaps sitting at a table, to the left of the

doorway. Now he appeared, tall and broad, his right arm

folded across his chest, held there by the white material of a

sling. The woman smiled, the man laughed and turned his

head slightly. Edge recognized Hank the deputy. Pete

hadn"t plugged him very positively during the sheriff"s

office shoot-out.

Annie and Hank shared the chores of snuffing out the

lamps and after darkness blanketed the restaurant windows

there was a time lapse that seemed to elongate into hours.

But when the door finally opened Edge realized they had

taken only a few moments to exchange a short kiss. Annie

locked the door with a key, which she then dropped down

the front of her low cut dress, between the twin swells of

her breasts, which seemed to gleam white in the moonlight.

Hank leaned close to here ear to whisper something and

Annie gave a short laugh.

“Later,” she said, very clearly.

She linked her arm through Hanks" free arm and they

stepped down off the end of the sidewalk, strolled

unhurriedly out of town, he murmuring words to her which

caused her to laugh a great deal. Edge gave them a twenty

yard start, then set off after them, getting well clear of town

before crossing the trail to move directly behind them.

When they took one of the spur trails that had been cut

through a stand of elms and silver birches he quickened his

pace, treading carefully on the uneven ground. The couple,

feeling no necessity for stealth of any kind, continued to

talk and laugh, their careless feet rattling pebbles and

cracking dry twigs.

Edge got close enough in the trees to see the light

splash of the woman"s white dress against the variated

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blackness, saw the point at which she led Hank off the trail.

He quacked his step still more, and then halted, peered

around a thick tree trunk to look into a natural glade, grass

carpeted and ringed by brush and birches, the silvery trunks

refracting the stray beams of moonlight to provide a soft,

romantic illumination. The couple was on the far side,

Annie leaning her back against a tree as Hank stood in front

of her, free arm encircling her shoulders as he kissed her.

Edge watched indifferently for a few moments, as

their passion increased, and the two bodies began to grind

together. Then he moved to the left, skirting the glade,

catching a glimpse of the couple as the glade came into

view between the trees. Once he saw them come up for air,

Hank"s breath rasping with desire, Annie giving a deep

sigh. Then he was behind them, with just the thickness of a

tree trunk between.

“I have to go, Hank,” he heard Annie whisper.

“Aw not yet, honey.”

“Hank, my Dad will tear the hide off me if I keep

getting back to the farm late.”

“He don"t suspect, does he?”

She paused. “I think he knows there"s a man in my

life, darling. But he don"t know it"s a married man.”

Edge cocked the Henry and stepped out into the

glade. “Could be he"ll know now, Annie,” he said.

Hank sprang back and went for his gun. But he was

right handed and that hand was trapped in a sling. He

looked down at his helplessness with the shock of sudden

realization while Annie gasped.

Edge grinned an expression that offered the couple no

comfort. “No trouble, folks,” he said flatly. “I just want a

little information.”

“You!” the woman said.

“Me,” Edge answered.

“You got gall, coming back here after what you did to

the sheriff,” Hank was a brave man. His voice was strong

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and he did not flinch as Edge stepped quickly up to him.

Annie gasped again, but Edge merely removed the Colt

from the man"s holster. He took his time emptying the

shells. He tossed them in one direction, the gun in the

another, into the trees.

“Sheriff, ought to be more polite,” he said. He looked

at Annie. “You recognized my name.”

“What?”

“Back in the jailhouse this morning. When Hammond

said I was called Edge it meant something to you.”

“Don"t tell him anything,” Hank commanded.

“Shut your mouth,” Edge said, stabbing forward with

the Henry, aiming the jab at where a spot of blood showed

on the sling, just above the elbow.

“Don"t,” the woman cried in alarm as Hank staggered

back with a pained grunt as the ache of his wound was

reawakened.

“So answer,” Edge said evenly.

“Five soldiers...” she said.

“Yeah?”

“In the saloon last night.”

“What kind of soldiers?”

“In blue. Yankees.”

“Any rank?”

“What?” Puzzled.

“Chevrons on their arms,” Edge made a motion with

his hand: three times.

“Right. Yes. One was a sergeant. The others called

him Frank.”

“What happened?”

She couldn"t hold Edge"s steady gaze, looked at Hank

who stood red faced with frustrated anger.

“I went to the saloon to get some beer. We don"t

stock it, but when a customer wants a drink with his

meal...”

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“I ain"t interested in how you run your hash house,”

Edge said with impatience.

“No,” she said, biting her lower lip. “I went to the

saloon and while the barkeep was drawing the beer I heard

the soldiers talking. I thought I heard the name Hedge but it

could have been Edge.”

“Close enough,” Edge told her. “What did they say?”

“I didn"t hear much,” she said, anxious to please,

afraid her information would not be sufficient to avert harm

for her and Hank.

“I don"t want it word for word,” Edge told her.

“They were saying something...” her face screwed up

as her frightened mind struggled to recollect with accuracy.

“...something: they wondered what Edge would do when he

found...Johnny, would it be?”

Edge"s face now twisted, but in his case it was

because he recollected only too well. “Close enough,” he

said softly. “What else?”

“The one they called Frank said he didn"t give a damn

one way of the other.”

“What do you want from Annie?” Hank demanded,

trying words as an outlet for his frustration.

“You don"t shut up, deputy, I"ll pull the trigger the

next time I aim,” Edge told him.

“Please, Hank,” Annie said desperately. She looked

again at Edge. “One of them said you wouldn"t dare follow

them to Arizona Territory. Not with all five of them stuck

together as they were.”

“Anything else?” She had told him nothing he had not

already suspected. Forrest had talked a lot about the years

before the war in Arizona.”

“Something about bounty hunting,” Annie said

hopefully.

That was how he had made his living – collecting

bounties for capturing fugitives heading for the Mexican

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border: dead or alive – always dead when Forrest brought

them in.

“Anything else?”

“What else?”

“Arizona"s a big territory. They mention any place in

particular? Any town?”

She thought deeply, suddenly smiled. “Yes Frank

mentioned a place called Warlock.”

Edge had never heard of it, but knew Annie had not

pulled the name out of the air. She was too scared to have

any creative ideas.

He sighed. “Okay. Obliged for your help.”

“What are you going to do with us?” Annie asked

nervously.

“Now he"s going to kill us,” Hank answered.

“Christ, Deputy,” Edge said softly. “You really do run

off at the mouth all the time, don"t you? Why should I kill

you? Way things were going before I broke in you and the

lady showed all signs of having the hots for each other.

Way I figure it, if your wife or Annie"s pa finds out about

that, well, neither of your lives are going to be worth living.

Whereas, if we make a deal...”

“What kind of deal?” Hank demanded.

“You keep your overflowing mouth shut about me

and I"ll hold my peace about what I saw.”

“I"m a lawman...” Hank started, but Annie cut him

off.

“We won"t say a word, Mr. Edge,” she said. “Hank"s

angry just now, but I"ll talk sense into him.”

Edge looked from the enraged Hank to the anxious

Annie and nodded his satisfaction. He turned as if to leave,

then back to face the woman again.

“Almost forgot. You have five dollars that belong to

me, Miss Annie.”

“I don"t know...” Another memory flooded back into

her mind.”

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Edge nodded. “The breakfasts. Way I see it, I was a

guest of the State and the State ought to pay for my board

and lodging.”

“I...I don"t have any money on me,” she said.

Edge grinned and stepped up close to her. He grasped

her arm and swung her around, placing her between himself

and Hank, so that he was able to watch them both with

ease.

“I"ve seen where you keep your valuables, Miss

Annie,” he said slyly and suddenly thrust his hand down

the front of her dress, stirred by the firm, warm pleasures of

her breasts against each side of his wrist. His fingers found

a roll of bills and he withdrew his hand as the woman

gasped in indignation and clutched at the top of her dress –

too late.

“You...” she started to say but got no further when she

saw the meanness in Edge"s expression.

“And you shouldn"t tell lies,” he said, glancing down

at the money. There were two five-dollar bills and some

ones. He took what was his and held out the rest to her.

She seemed reluctant, afraid to take it, but after a

moment, did so, glanced at it with disbelief and put it back

from whence it came.

“An honorable thief,” Hank said with disgust.

“Who keeps his word,” Edge said evenly. “You keep

yours or I"ll cut your tongue out and nail it to the door at

the lady"s pa"s house.”

Then he made a sudden movement, leaning forward

from the waist and brushing his lips gently against Annie"s

mouth. The woman gasped as Hank stepped forward,

pulled up sharp when the muzzle of the Henry swung up to

cover him.

Edge grinned. “I could envy you,” he said. “She tastes

as good as she feels.”

Then he spun and vanished into the trees around the

glade, as Hank made a deep-throated sound of fury and

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Annie raised a hand gently to her mouth. Her eyes shone

and a sense of shame engulfed her, pricking her soul with

accusation for the involuntary flush of desire that infused

her entire body.

“That Edge is quite a man,” she murmured.

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