Trammel turned on him. “Shut your mouth about her, damn you. And what makes you think you know so much about me?”
Hagen ignored the outburst. “You’re comfortable enough on horseback, but hardly at ease. You know how to live somewhat on the trail, but your knowledge is rudimentary at best.”
Trammel stepped toward him. “What the hell does rudimentary mean? You calling me stupid?”
“It means basic. Take that fire, for example. It’s too much wood for what we need and will throw off far too much light for two men on the run. Anyone who might be following us would be able to see it for a mile or more, especially in reasonably flat country like this.”
Before that day, Trammel knew he hadn’t said more than ten words to Hagen since the gambler had come to live at The Gilded Lilly. There was no way he could have known so much about him. He’d never told anyone about his past, not even Lilly. Yet, here he was, having his whole life read back to him by a man he barely knew.
There was no reason for him to be angry, yet he was. He guessed Hagen had a way of getting under people’s skin. It was the reason why he’d lived the life he had. It was the reason why both of them were on the run now.
He picked up the pan he had dropped. “Well, then I guess we’re lucky no one’s been following us, aren’t we?”
“That’s where you’re wrong, my large friend. We have been followed by two men, and they’re going to try to kill us. Right now.”
* * *
Trammel drew his Colt from the shoulder holster and ducked just as a rifle shot rang out. A bullet ricocheted off the rocky outcropping behind Hagen.
Trammel ran for his horse and grabbed the double-barreled shotgun from the saddle before escaping into the darkness.
He crouched low with the outcropping at his back, figuring no one could get behind him that way. At least he was out of the circle of light thrown off by the growing fire. He looked for Hagen, but his blanket had been cast aside and he was nowhere to be seen.
Before the shooting had started, the gambler had said two men had been trailing them all day. How the devil had he known that? And why hadn’t he said anything? Trammel decided he’d make it a point to demand some answers from him after all of this was over, assuming either of them was still alive.
Trammel realized he was holding his Colt in one hand and his shotgun in the other. Trading firepower for accuracy, he tucked the Colt under his arm and slowly thumbed back both hammers on the shotgun. He wished he had grabbed the Winchester instead, but he had no intention of going back in the light for it. Too risky.
He flinched when he heard a scream pierce the darkness.
“Hoffman!” a strange voice cried out. “You hit?”
Another scream brought another volley of rifle fire off to Trammel’s right. He saw the blasts in the darkness and knew the man firing was no more than fifty feet away from him.
Trammel ran behind the flashes, raised his shotgun, and aimed in the general direction of the gunfire. Knowing Hagen was unarmed, Trammel squeezed the trigger, firing blind into the night. A fresh set of screams echoed in front of him, and he knew he must have hit someone.
“I take it that was you, my large friend,” Hagen’s voice rang out. “Good job. I’m heading in your direction, so don’t shoot. All the bad men are done for, I assure you.”
Trammel stood alone in the darkness like a damned fool, waiting for Hagen to tell him when to move.
After what felt like an eternity, he heard Hagen say, “Follow the sound of my voice, but hurry. This one’s still alive, but not for long.”
Trammel, indeed, followed the sound of Hagen’s voice and found him standing over a man crumpled in on himself like a cat. A bloody boot knife was in his right hand.
“Drag him over to the fire so we can get a better look at him,” Hagen said. “We might learn something from him before he dies on us.”
Trammel ignored the wounded man’s screams as he dragged him closer to the fire. Now in the light, he could see the man had caught at least one of the barrels flush in the left side. His breathing was shallow, not only from fear, but likely from the buckshot that had stuck his lungs. Either way, Trammel knew he was not long for this world.
“Who are you?” Trammel shook him. “Why are you following us?”
“Go to hell.”
Hagen straddled the man and held the thin dagger against the dying man’s cheek. “That’s a trek you’ll be taking long before us, my friend, but first you’re going to tell us who sent you or the big man here will throw you on that fire.”
“Name’s Hoffman, damn you,” the wounded man rasped. “I work the BF ranch. Walt Bowman sent me and Baxter to see where you went. He’s gonna kill you scum for what you done to Tyler and Will. He’s gonna kill you both.”
“Perhaps,” Hagen said, “but you’ll never know.” He placed the dagger blade next to Hoffman’s throat. “Tell us how many he’s bringing with him, and I’ll end your suffering now. Hold your peace and I’ll let your wounds take their course. Lie to me, and the fire awaits.”
Hoffman said nothing. Trammel saw Hagen grin. The dancing fire cast unsettling shadows across his face. “I was hoping you were going to say that.”
Trammel grabbed Hagen’s hand as he drew his blade back. “Don’t bother. He’s dead.”
The gambler placed his bloodied blade beneath Hoffman’s nose. “No breath, so you appear to be right.” He looked up at the big man. “You can let go of my hand now.”
But Trammel didn’t let go. “Not until you tell me how you knew those two were on our trail.”
“I spotted them a little after we left town,” Hagen said. “I thought they might be just two men heading out of town just like us. I didn’t realize they were still following us until they stopped when we stopped.”
Trammel’s grip on his wrist tightened. “That was hours ago. Why the hell didn’t you say anything then?”
“Because you would’ve wanted to turn back and face them on open ground. I was in no condition to fight at that time, and the odds weren’t in our favor. I figured we’d wait until nightfall to see what they might do. That’s why I kept talking like I did. To put them at their ease and let them think they could sneak up on us.” He looked at Trammel’s hand gripping his. “Now, for the last time, let go of me.”
Trammel shoved him aside with enough force to send Hagen on his rump. “You could’ve told me when they were coming.”
“The horses did that,” the gambler said as he got back to his feet. “Didn’t you see how they were fussing when they caught their scent on the wind? No, you didn’t, because you don’t know what you’re doing out here. You don’t know what to look for, and you don’t know how to survive. So unless you’ve got a better plan, I highly suggest you listen to me from now on because, the next time, you’re liable to get us both killed.”
Trammel watched Hagen wipe his bloody blade clean on the dead man’s vest before he slipped it back