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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