Chapter Eleven
They waited. The clock struck the half hour and they heard a spatter of gunfire from down the road. They waited some more, in the saloon, watching, feeling like hens too stupid to avoid a stampede till it thundered right over them. Light from the Crystal Springs lit the front of the jailhouse, and they could see figures gathered outside the Sheriff's office. They could make out Buell and O'Malley. Doc Abernathy was running at a waddle from his house, bag in hand. Two silhouettes broke away, one tall and rangy, one tall and bowlegged, and set at a trot back to the Astoria. A slight figure sprang jackrabbit quick out of the jailhouse door and followed. Even at this distance, where she leaned against the door in relief, she could hear Tully's excited voice, and she had to admit that voice had lost its squeak. The rain came down with a purpose.
They were in full campaign as they arrived, the brothers exchanging quick words as Tully told a tale.
"There were three of them, but the one fellow was strong as two mules."
"Everything good here, Miss Rose?" Dean asked.
"And he was yelling something weird?" asked Sam.
"Yeah, something foreign. Sounded high church." Tully was still wound up.
"We're fine," said Marie-Rose, thinking she might have to yell herself to be heard.
"Not good," said Dean, looking at Tully.
"Randall swore he put two bullets right into his chest, but the man just laughed."
Sam and Dean exchanged a glance.
"Said Jace Hughes was dead."
"Who did? Randall?"
"No, the one with the eyes."
There was a cessation of breath.
"Eyes?" Dean asked, treading careful. "Where's Randall now, Tully?"
"Shinned out. Said those black eyes put the fear of God into him. He was shook."
"Probably a smart move, Tully," Dean said. "The guy was probably sick with something." More looks between the brothers.
"Did you see where the sick one went, Tully?"
"He rode off north. I stayed hid. I could have taken a shot…" Tully admitted, shamefaced.
"You did right, Tully, couldn't get a good shot from up there. Your intel is more valuable." Dean set a fist on Tully's shoulder. Tully looked appeased.
"My what?"
"So Belrose wasn't the biggest frog in the puddle," Dean said to Sam, heads together.
"Has to have a base somewhere nearby, it was controlling all those men."
"And the other big player, Hughes, is out of the game, if we can believe the, uh, the…"
"Yeah, the 'uh.' That must be why the big push now. So where's the victorious big bad hiding out?"
"The Belrose Ranch? Too far off and—"
"And no Belrose. So where?"
They were now more wound up than Tully. Marie-Rose intruded. "Sheriff Buell was wondering why those Belrose men went north earlier instead of east."
They jumped, reminded others were present. Yet another shared glance, apparently an agreement that her inclusion would be beneficial. She was relieved to be thought unfeeble.
"I rode north the other day, there was the church and a chicken farm and a house. Anything else?" Sam said.
"McAlister's place, then the Lancaster house and then the Platte," said Marie-Rose.
"The Lancasters are at Doc Abernathy's," said Tully.
"McAlister's the chicken rancher. Regular customer."
Sam looked thoughtfully into the northerly long distance. "Miss Rose, what do you know about Reverend Hilliard?"
"That he looks at me and mine like we were ticks on a dog."
"Er… 'Kay, well, has he been here long?"
"About two years. Been on a tear for the last year or so about cleaning up the town. Getting people riled."
"Have folk been heedful—" Sam coughed. "Have people been paying attention to him?"
"Some, but mostly people in these parts keep their dogs out of their neighbors bean patches."
Tully laughed. "Mrs. Aushenbrenner said he's bad for the town's business, him going on about Miss Rose and the girls."
Dean and Sam looked quizzical.
"Miss Rose is everybody in town's best customer," he explained.
Dean snorted, and Sam nodded in understanding. A great deal of money passed through her hands.
Marie-Rose nodded. "Belrose took to him. Hughes didn't, those two been at each other something fierce. You say he's dead?"
"The sick cuss did, Miss Rose," answered Tully. "Want me to ride after him, Mister Winchester? I can catch up, if he's sick he'll be slow. What sickness is that, give you black eyes?"
"It means you skin out fast as Randall did, boy, don't look back," Marie-Rose said. She locked eyes with Dean. He was rubbing his chin, trying to duck, but he knew and she knew and now they both knew who knew what. She wrapped her arms around herself to keep from wrapping them around Tully.
During this, Sam had been pondering.
"Reverend Hilliard been in town lately, Miss Rose?"
She shook her head.
"What are you thinking?" Dean asked Sam.
"That many a scarecrow has served as a roost for an enlightened crow."
Dean stared at him for a moment.
"We gotta get you out of here."He shook his head, turned to Marie-Rose. "How are you fixed for salt, ma'am?"
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