CHAPTER 9

      Trammel woke with a start.

      He had been bone tired and realized the sun was already high in the sky by the time he awakened. They had picked up even more ground than they had the first day out of Wichita, and the journey had taken a lot more out of the big man than he had expected. He had no idea how close they were to Dodge City, but he imagined they must be close.

      It took him a moment to recognize what had woken him. It was the smell of coffee. And bacon. And biscuits. But he hadn’t brought along the fixings for biscuits, so he wondered if they had found themselves closer to a farmhouse or even Dodge City than he had expected.

      When he lifted his head, he saw Adam Hagen over the cook fire. A pot of coffee sat on the stone next to it and a pan of biscuits and bacon over the fire.

      “Morning,” Hagen said. “You seemed awfully tired come sunup, so I decided to let you sleep. Hope you don’t mind.”

      It took Trammel a moment to recognize Hagen. He remembered the gambler had changed out of his fancier clothes the previous day and had taken the gear from Baxter, the man he had knifed to death when they tried to ambush them. He no longer looked like a cardsharp but like any other man on the trail. His brown duster and floppy brown hat were more convincing than the bowler he had sported at The Gilded Lilly. He had also liberated the dead men of their money and weapons, which Trammel remembered had amounted to ten dollars, two Walker Colts, and two Winchesters with comparable ammunition.

      He remembered arguing with Hagen about burying the bodies to keep them from being discovered, but with no shovels or stones about, they had no choice but to leave them to the elements.

      His stomach made him forget about the dead men they had left behind. “Where the hell’d you get biscuits?”

      “Same place I got that burro over there.” He gestured to where they had hobbled their horses and saw a mule loaded down with sacks. “I rode into town while you were sleeping.”

      Trammel was fully awake now. “You rode into Dodge City?”

      “It’s not that far to town,” Hagen said. “I told you we were close.”

      “But you rode in alone?”

      “I’ve been traveling alone most of my life, Trammel,” Hagen said. “Besides, it’s a hell of a lot easier for a man like me to go into town than you. In case you haven’t noticed yet, you don’t exactly blend in, even in Dodge City. Speaking of which, I took the liberty of buying you some shaving cream and a straight razor.” He ran his hands over his face. “I availed myself of a bath and a shave while I was in town, but the stream down the hill will do you just as good. Maybe even better.” He frowned at the biscuits. “The girl I selected to help me was homely to say the least. But, at such an early hour, one can’t be too choosy when seeking companionship.”

      Trammel felt his face for the first time in days. He had always had a heavy beard, but rarely let it grow this long. He hadn’t seen his reflection since they had left Wichita, but imagined he was quite a sight. “Guess I could stand a little cleaning up. But why’d you go ahead and get all of those provisions for? I thought we’d part ways in Dodge City.”

      “You’re certainly free to do that if you choose.” Hagen held out the pan to him. “Here, take a biscuit. But mind that it’s hot.”

      He plucked a biscuit from the pan and it was, indeed, hot. He dropped it on his blanket, where he decided to let it set while it cooled. Hagen surprised him by handing him a cup of coffee. “That’s hot, too, but at least it has a handle.”

      Trammel grew suspicious. “Why the fancy treatment all of a sudden?”

      “Think of it as my way of thanking you for getting me out of town and saving my life. Now, I’d like the opportunity to save yours, if you’ll be kind enough to let me do it.”

      “From who? The Bowman family? They’ll head straight on to Newton if they don’t think we headed south. You said so yourself. They’ll be played out after that. I don’t think they’ll track us all the way to Dodge.”

      “Matt Bowman will track us to the end of the earth as long as his money holds out.” Hagen blew on the biscuit before he took one from the pan himself. “I’ve played a lot of poker with a lot of people who know him well. He’s got a reputation for stubbornness, and he won’t let the death of his nephews go unanswered. He’s a proud and ruthless man when the occasion calls for it, and I’d say the death of his kin calls for it.”

      Hagen poured himself a cup of coffee. “Besides, he lives to impress his father, and Old Man Bowman will be mighty disappointed in his oldest son if he just lets this go.”

      Trammel didn’t know anything about the Bowman clan except for the two he’d killed. He remembered Earp seemed to hold them in some regard, so he believed Hagen might know what he was talking about. “Think he’ll come alone?”

      Hagen shook his head. “My money’s on him bringing his cousin Walt along. That’ll be a mark in our favor. Walt Bowman is an idiot. Maybe a few others, too.”

      Hagen would get no argument from Trammel on that score. He’d heard of Matt, but had never met the man. He’d had a few run-ins with Walt after the boy had too much whiskey for his own good. He was the kind of drunk who thought he was more of a handful than he really was. Trammel had expected Walt to come back at him after he’d thrown him out of The Gilded Lilly, but the young man never had. He didn’t know if it was because he’d found another place to drink or had found his senses floating in all that whiskey. He wished his cousins had been that smart two nights ago.

      “How many do you think Matt will bring with him?”

      Hagen leaned back against his saddle as he thought it over. “Between ten and twenty. Probably ten. The old man needs men to tend to the herds, so he won’t spare more than that. Matt and Walt will probably hire the rest. You got many enemies in Wichita, Mr. Trammel?”

      The big man sipped his coffee. “Plenty.”

      “Then he’ll have no trouble finding a few men to follow him, especially if he pays for it, and I imagine he’ll pay handsomely.” He looked over at Trammel. “Still want to split up? Head out on your own?”

      Trammel suddenly wasn’t so sure, but he was still absorbing what Hagen had said. “I’m considering my options.”

      “Let me help you with that,” Hagen said. “Dodge City is closest, so let’s say you go there. It’s a rough town, and a man like you probably won’t have trouble finding a job as a bouncer or a lookout man in a saloon or house of ill repute. But it’ll make you noticeable, and that’ll get you killed when Bowman and his men eventually find out where you are. They’re likely to have plenty of help once they get there, and as big as you are, you’re not big enough to take on ten or more armed men alone.”

      “So I guess this really is where we part ways,” Trammel said. “Me being a burden to you and all.”

      “Nonsense!” Hagen exclaimed. “For I have every intention of inviting you to accompany me to my family home in Wyoming.”

      Trammel almost spilled his coffee. “Wyoming! Hell, I can barely make the two-hundred-mile ride from Wichita to Dodge City and you want me to go all the way to Wyoming? Why the hell don’t we just ride clear on up to the Yukon while we’re at it?”

      “It’s only one hundred and fifty miles from Wichita and, besides, Wyoming is much closer and far more hospitable, especially at my family’s place in Blackstone. An ominous name, don’t you think? It’s actually quite tranquil. Gets its name from an outcropping of black rock that bottlenecks the main road