White Snake In Dream


White Snake In Dream


White Snake In Dream

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“I’ve been in a bad way ever since I came here,” he said, and his voice was so low that she had to strain to hear him. “There’s something wrong with this town. It’s not right.”

She nodded slowly. He was right—it wasn’t right at all. She didn’t know what it was exactly, but there were things about it that weren’t right. Something felt off as if she’d walked into the middle of an unfinished painting. A faint breeze stirred the leaves on the trees.

The sky overhead looked hazy. But then again, maybe it was just her imagination. Maybe she was still having nightmares from being chased by that man last night.

“What is it?” she asked.

He stared down at his hands for a moment before looking up at the sun. “It looks like noon, doesn’t it? But I don’t feel any different than when I woke up.”

Her stomach growled. They hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning, and they both needed food badly.

The thought made her pause for a moment. What would happen next? Would he kill her or try to keep her captive forever? And how could she escape without hurting anyone else? Her only hope seemed to be that someone would come along soon enough to help them.

But no one came. Instead, she watched the man sit down beside her. For a long time neither spoke; instead, they simply listened to the sounds around them: birds singing, insects chirping, and the rustle of branches in the wind.

As the minutes ticked past, she began to wonder if perhaps they were alone. Then, after a while, she heard a horse whinny. Was that coming from somewhere nearby?

After a few moments more, she saw the white horse approaching through the woods. When it got close, she realized that the animal belonged to the ranch owner. He rode toward them and pulled his mount alongside hers. The man dismounted and handed the reins over to the ranch owner who led their horses away.

When the ranch owner reached them, he turned to the man sitting next to her. “Did you find the woman?”

“No, sir.”

His brow furrowed. “You’re sure?”

The man shrugged. “Yes, sir.”

The ranch owner frowned. “Then we’ll have to go back to look for her.”

The man shook his head. “We won’t do that. You can take the men out tomorrow morning, but I’m going home now.”

The ranch owner sighed and took his hat off. His hair was gray, and he wore a black cowboy suit, but she couldn’t see much else because he kept his hat on. Still, he looked young. She guessed that he must have been in his mid-thirties.

“Why did you bring her here?” he asked.

“Because I found her wandering around outside.”

The ranch owner smiled. “That’s good.”

A small smile played across her lips. This was the first sign that she might be able to get away without hurting anyone. “Thank you,” she said, hoping it sounded sincere.

For a moment the man stared at her, then finally nodded. “Come along with me,” he said. “Let’s go inside and eat.”

They headed toward the house and climbed onto the porch. The ranch owner opened the screen door and stepped inside. After a moment, he closed the door behind him.

She followed him. Inside the house, they entered a large living room. Three couches surrounded a big fireplace, and a dining table stood in front of another wall. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. No one was there except the two of them, though a faint scent of smoke drifted in from somewhere.

The ranch owner left her standing near the fireplace. He went upstairs and returned with a glass of water. He handed it to her, but she refused it. He took it anyway and sat down on a couch. She wondered what she should do, and where she should go.

Should she stay put until he decided to leave her alone? Or should she hide away? She supposed that she shouldn’t bother hiding because there was nothing she could do about it. If she tried to run, she wouldn’t make it very far. She had never been strong physically or mentally. She knew it well. So why did she even bother trying?

Before she could think further about it, the ranch owner leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just stay here and wait for my return.”

He got up and walked into the other room. At last, she felt safe enough to relax. With relief, she sank down onto a couch.

“Where are your children?” she whispered.

The ranch owner answered as quietly. “My daughter has gone to town.”

She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was almost four o’clock. Had she slept all day? Surely not. She remembered waking up and staring at the man beside her. Did the sun rise so quickly?

It was too late to go looking for the girl now, she realized. They’d already missed dinner by a couple of hours. But maybe they could still catch breakfast before heading out again. Maybe they could ride together, like friends, rather than enemies.

As the thought occurred to her, she caught sight of something moving in the corner of her eye. Something moved toward them, but when she turned, she didn’t see anything. Then, after a moment, she heard voices. One sounded familiar; the other sounded unfamiliar. The man she had seen earlier spoke softly while the new visitor raised his voice.

“I don’t know how you figured this out, but I want to talk to her,” the newcomer said. “Now!”

The ranch owner chuckled. “So, you’ve come to save the damsel in distress, huh? Well, let me tell you—”

“Save her? I just came here to ask if she knows who killed her brother. Now, will you let me speak to her?”

Her eyes widened. Her mouth fell open. Why would a stranger care about such things? And what did he mean by “killed”? What brother?

The ranch owner continued speaking. “What makes you think she knows anything? How do you know she isn’t involved in this?”

“Because I’m not an idiot! Don’t waste time asking questions. Let me talk to her!”

“Very well. Wait here.”

The rancher disappeared through the door. She heard his footsteps coming closer, then stop. For several moments, she listened intently. When no sound reached her ears, she began to wonder whether she imagined everything. But then she heard a woman’s voice say, “Is it true?”

The words sent a jolt through her. She jumped off the couch and ran to the doorway. Standing there were three people: the rancher, the woman, and a man. All three of them appeared to be holding guns.

One of the men held a shotgun. Another held a pistol. The third man wore a long black coat and carried a gun in either hand.

All three men looked surprised when they saw her standing there. They dropped their weapons and aimed at each other instead.

“Stay back,” the man said. His face was hard-lined and scarred.

The others exchanged glances. Finally, the man with the long coat pointed his weapon at her. “Get inside.”

She backed up against the door frame, wondering what was going on. As she retreated farther from the group, the man with the rifle fired a shot. She ducked behind the door.

Something thudded into the floor near her feet. She froze. Was someone hurt? Then she heard a scream. Someone screamed, “No!”

A bullet hit the ground next to her head. She stepped backward, nearly tripping over the man who lay on the floor. There was blood everywhere.

With trembling hands, she pulled the door shut and locked it. Turning around, she watched as the man with the shotgun approached. He swung the barrel in her direction and cocked the hammer. “Who are you?”

“You’re welcome to search me,” she said, hoping that was the right answer.

But the man shook his head. “Let me guess. You’re one of those fancy ladies who live in town, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

His lips curled into a sneer. “Well, we don’t have time for games. We need to get out of here. Hurry.”

She started toward him but stopped short when she saw another man running across the living room toward them. Before she knew what was happening, she was struck on the shoulder by a powerful blow. Pain lanced through her arm, numbing her fingers. She stumbled back against the wall.

Shots rang out, followed by screams. The two men charged into the hallway where she stood paralyzed.

The second intruder went straight for the rancher. He kicked the gun away and grabbed the man by the throat. A knife flashed in his hand. Just before he plunged the blade into the rancher’s stomach, the first man wrestled him away and knocked him unconscious with a punch.

When the second attacker landed on the floor, the rancher kicked him in the head. Blood sprayed across the carpet.

“Quick, grab the keys!” he yelled.

Before she could move, the man with the shotgun entered the hall. He pointed it at her. “Don’t even think about trying anything funny.”

She took a step forward. “I’ll unlock the door. Just leave your friend outside.”

He stared down the muzzle at her. “I told you, we can’t leave anyone alive.”

“Then I won’t try anything.”

As she unlocked the front door, the ranch owner staggered past her. Both of his arms hung limp at his side. Blood dripped from a cut above his eye.

“Help!” she cried. “Call for help.”

The gunman laughed. “We’ll see about that later.”

The man with the shotgun moved to the back door, opened it, then turned around. “Take care of our guest.”

Turning around, the rancher gave her a thumbs-up sign.

By now, the gunman had returned. He waved his weapon in the air, signaling for her to come with him. Reluctantly, she complied. Together, they walked toward the barn.

Once they got close enough, she noticed the injured man lying motionless in the middle of the dirt yard. “Where did he go?”

The gunman shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Take her inside.”

They entered the barn. It was dark inside, so she lit a lantern hanging from a hook. Once again, she wondered what was going on. Had this been an elaborate trap set by some of the outlaws or the sheriff?

There wasn’t much light coming from the windows. So far she hadn’t seen any horses, although she suspected they might be somewhere in the barn. The rancher led her to a stall. He unlocked the padlock, threw open the doors, and pushed her inside.

As soon as she was inside, the man with the shotgun closed the door. The rancher followed and locked the latch. “Now, sit tight until the doctor comes.”

“What happened to these men?”

“You didn’t hear?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“They were hired by some men from Denver to kill us all.”

She swallowed hard. “Why?”

“Just because we’re part of the cattle business. That’s why.”

Her mind spun. How many people in town knew she was staying here? And how many more would be killed if the killers caught her? If not for the fact that the ranchers had been involved, she’d have called the law—but there was no way she was telling the police about this. No matter what it cost her, she refused to betray the ranchers.

She sat down on a chair in the corner, her thoughts racing. What could she do to prevent the gunmen from killing the rest of the ranchers? As long as she remained under suspicion, she couldn’t make any accusations against the gunmen. But she was certain she could identify them if she ever saw them. All she needed was time.

After the gunman left, she waited nervously for half an hour before the rancher finally came inside.

“How is the other man?”

“He’s still out cold.”

“Good. Now let me look at my face.”

A small bandage covered most of his forehead. His cheek looked red and swollen. He held his hands over his nose and mouth to check for broken bones. “Did either of them get away?”

“Not yet,” she replied. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if they did.”

“That’s good.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the kitchen. “Let’s hope none of the townsfolk know who they are.”

While he washed up in the sink, she retrieved one of the chairs from the dining room and brought it into the kitchen. She wanted to stay near him while he ate but he kept himself busy preparing dinner. When the food was ready, she helped herself to seconds. Then she excused herself and went back upstairs to change her clothes.

When she emerged wearing her blue dress, she found the rancher sitting at the table. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s fine. You should eat something. You haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.”

“Yes, I’m hungry. Thanks.”

She poured him a glass of milk and drank hers in one gulp. While she ate, she studied his face. It seemed strange seeing him dressed like a normal person instead of the rough-looking rancher. After finishing her meal, she washed the dishes in the sink and then fetched another chair and sat across from him.

“I’m surprised to find you here,” she said. “So you don’t work for the cattlemen anymore?”

“Never.”

“And you don’t want revenge on those two gunmen?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you think we’re cowards?”

“Of course not.”

“Then tell me why we didn’t call the law.”

“Because we’ve already paid a price for doing nothing.”

“This has gone too far.” He leaned forward. “If we let this happen, our lives will be ruined forever.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Gentry. We’ll figure out a way to stop them. Don’t forget, I’ve always known how to protect myself.”

For the first time since she’d met him, he smiled. “Well, now that I know you can defend yourself, maybe you won’t need me anymore.”

***

When they finished eating, he insisted she sleeps upstairs rather than take her bed downstairs. “We don’t want anyone else knowing where you live. Besides, it’s safer for you here. There isn’t anyone around who might try to rob your house.”

The ranch house was larger than the hotel room. Not only did it have three bedrooms, there also appeared to be several rooms off the main hallway. In one bedroom, she found a large wooden trunk full of women’s clothing. She opened the lid to see dresses and blouses.

“These belong to you?”

He nodded. “Now, you’re sure you’re okay sleeping alone?”

“Fine.”

“Very well.” He stood up. “Sleep well.”

As soon as he closed the door behind him, she pulled the curtains shut so she couldn’t be seen from the street. She wasn’t afraid for herself; she just wanted to avoid having to explain why she was living with the ranchers. At least the window overlooked the backyard and the barns.

The next morning she awoke to find the rancher sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. “You slept late. Do you feel better?”

“Much better.”

She made breakfast for both of them. By midmorning, the rancher had a few men helping him move hay bales out of the barn. They moved slowly because they were carrying each bale by hand. The men would lift it over their heads, toss it onto the wagon and then drag the bales along the ground until they reached the horse corral.

Once there, they unloaded the bales and stacked them neatly.

“Are these your horses?” she asked.

“No. These belonged to my wife. But when she died, I took custody of her herd. That’s what keeps us going.”

“Your wife was very talented. How many heads do you have?”

“Over one hundred. And they all belong to me.”

They worked together through the day. When lunchtime arrived, she offered to fix sandwiches and the rancher accepted. She served the men ham and cheese sandwiches and they all ate while standing at the counter in the kitchen.

After lunch, she went outside to tend to the horses and give them fresh water. As she filled the bucket, she heard the sound of hooves coming down the dirt road. Before she could turn around, a man jumped out of a buggy and rushed toward the barn.

She recognized him as one of the gunmen from last night. He came up to the fence and waved a pistol in front of her. “Get away from the horses or you die.”

She backed away from the corral and watched him climb into the buggy and drive away. Then she turned back to the horses and noticed they weren’t moving. All the animals except one were lying motionless on the ground. One horse was still standing, but it looked sickly.

“What happened? Are they dead?”

“Yeah, they’re dead.”

She ran inside the barn. “Mr. Gentry! Come quickly!”

The rancher emerged from the house and hurried to the barn. “Did he hurt any of the horses?”

“Not yet. He must have been scared off before he killed them.”

“Maybe someone saw him.”

“Yes. Someone did.”

“Who?”

“A woman.”

“But why are you telling me now?”

“I told you, she helped me get away last night.”

“Oh. You mean Miss Dutton?”

“That’s right.”

“How is she?”

“Sick. Very sick.”

The rancher shook his head. “It’s no wonder she looks terrible. Did she tell you anything about the gunmen?”

“Actually, yes. It appears one of the men got married last week. His bride is expecting a baby.”

“Then why didn’t he go home?”

“Apparently, the couple has been arguing for some time. So much so that neither wants to return to New York City.”

“And they want to stay here?”

“Here. Here.”

“Why not settle somewhere else?”

“Because they were hired to kill someone here.”

“Someone important?”

“Yes. An enemy.”

***

Denton Gentry listened carefully as the gunman described how the gunmen planned to ambush the victim.

“There will be six gunmen. We’ll meet tomorrow night at the town square. After we finish killing the man, we’ll split up and scatter across the countryside.”

Gentry rubbed his chin. “Do you think the man they’re after lives in town?”

“I’m certain of it,” said the gunman. “If he lived anywhere else, he’d have gone there instead.”

“So if I understand this correctly, we can expect an attack tonight?”

“Tonight, sir. Six gunmen against three people. Three against six.”

“We need to warn the sheriff.”

“Sir, I tried to warn him already, but he refused to listen. He thinks the men who hired us won’t dare attack here. Or maybe he doesn’t know how dangerous they really are.”

“He’s wrong.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We also need to alert the bank manager.”

“Already done, sir.”

“Good. What about the mayor and the city council members? Shouldn’t they hear about this too?”

“I already called the mayor and the city council. They’re meeting later today.”

“Where?”

“At the city hall. In fact, everyone is invited.”

“Fine. Let me talk to Mayor Wallace. Will you send word to the bank?”

“Certainly, sir. Anything else I should do?”

“No. Just keep your ears open. If anyone hears something strange happening, let me know immediately. And make sure to bring me whatever information you collect.”

“Very well.”

When the gunman left, Gentry returned to the ranch house where he found Sally waiting with the sheriff. “This is Sheriff Adams. Is Mr. Gentry available?”

“Yes. Please come in.”

Adams entered the living room and waited for Gentry to join him. The sheriff looked like a tired old man, worn by years of hard work. Not once had he smiled since she arrived. Now she wondered if it was because he wasn’t used to having guests.

“Sheriff, what kind of trouble is this?” asked Gentry. “Are these men dangerous?”

“They might be,” said Adams. “You see, their employer is very wealthy. But he isn’t satisfied with money alone. That’s why he hires assassins. To eliminate those who stand between him and wealth. This time it’s our friend John Wright. Who knows how many times he’s paid men like us to kill other people?”

“Is there another reason you haven’t wanted me to leave the ranch?”

“I’ve been worried about your safety. These men are dangerous. There’s always the chance that they may find out you helped me escape last night. Since you know all the details of the plot, the gunmen could target you next.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t take my word for it. Look around you.” He pointed to the dead horses. “One of the mounts died instantly while the others succumbed to illness within hours of being shot.”

“What disease?”

“A horsepox infection. Horses don’t get sick from eating poison.”

She stared at him for a moment before answering. “Not poisoned. Poisoned.” She turned her gaze to the rifle on the table. “That’s a Remington double-barreled shotgun. I recognize it. It belonged to your father.”

“My father?”

“Yes. Why would someone shoot your family?”

“To protect me. To protect this place.”

“Protecting yourself doesn’t justify killing your own family. How could you possibly believe such a thing?”

“How can you tell me otherwise? You saw the gun barrel sticking through the window.”

“Maybe the killer just happened upon them when they were cleaning the windows. Maybe they didn’t mean to shoot anyone.”

“The gunmen knew exactly which window to break. When they fired into the bedroom, my brother screamed. My sister-in-law ran to the kitchen for help. Then my father went to investigate.”

“But you told me they were killed instantly. Didn’t any of them suffer?”

“All of them except for my wife.”

“Why did you say she only suffered?”

“Because she died in the hospital two days ago. Her condition was serious, and the doctors thought she wouldn’t live long enough to recover.”

“Your wife! Where is she buried?”

“In the cemetery.”

“Can you show me the grave site?”

“Of course. Follow me.”

Adams led Gentry outside. As soon as they stepped onto the porch, she stopped walking. “There!”

“What is it?”

“Look at the ground. See that dark spot?”

“Yes. Looks like blood.”

“It is blood. Someone bled to death right there.”

Gentry followed the sheriff down the stairs. They walked along the dirt road until they reached the end of the driveway. At first glance, the cemetery appeared peaceful and serene, surrounded by towering oak trees and beautiful flowers.

Yet something seemed off. No one came here to visit the graves. Only a few weeds grew among the grassy plots. Most of the markers were weathered, some even broken. A small wooden cross stood over one headstone; its lettering had almost faded away.

“Who’s buried there?” Gentry asked.

“Bobby Linton.”

“Was Bobby an outlaw?”

“He was never convicted of anything. He lived a quiet life. His mother kept this cemetery going after his death. She loved him very much. For a year or so, I tried to care for it but gave up eventually. I’m too busy trying to run this ranch.”

“Didn’t you try to bury your wife here?”

“No. We bought a plot in town. Her body is still there.”

“Then why does Bobby have a marker? What happened to his?”

“His mother was buried beside him. After she passed away, no one bothered to replace Bobby’s stone.”

“Why not?”

“Money. Money has always been tight for the Lintons. But I think Bobby’s mother was responsible for that. She was a kind woman. Not only did she tend to her son’s grave, but she also tended to the graves of all the other outlaws whose families couldn’t afford to buy stones.”

“And what became of Bobby’s family?”

“After his mother died, Bobby took charge of the ranch. He made sure his siblings received an allowance each month, although none of them ever visited the ranch. The day Bobby died, I got the news from his sister. That’s when I learned that his children had grown up and moved to Colorado. Now I wonder if they’re all right.”

They returned to the house. Adams unlocked the front door. “I’ll leave you alone now,” he said. “If you need anything, please call me.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as the sheriff left, Gentry walked back toward the dining room. “Where do you keep the coffins?”

“Coffins?”

“The ones you use to bury criminals who die while in custody. I noticed a box in the corner of the closet yesterday.”

“You should know better than to ask questions like that. Some people are afraid to go near the jailhouse because of the bodies inside.”

“I’ve seen enough dead men last a lifetime.”

“So you don’t mind seeing the remains of others?”

“This isn’t about me. This is about justice for my family.”

“Justice will be served when you arrest the killers.”

“Arresting them won’t bring my wife back. If you want to find out how this tragedy occurred, then start with these coffins.”

The End

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