Last Breath (A Gideon Johann Western Book 5) Read online

  Last Breath

  A Gideon Johann Western Book 5

  By

  Duane Boehm

  Last Breath: A Gideon Johann Western Book 5

  Copyright 2016 Duane Boehm

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  For more information or permission contact: [email protected]

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real.

  Other Books By Duane Boehm

  The Gideon Johann Boxed Set Book 1-4

  Last Stand: A Gideon Johann Western Book 1

  Last Chance: A Gideon Johann Western Book 2

  Last Hope: A Gideon Johann Western Book 3

  Last Ride: A Gideon Johann Western Book 4

  Wanted: A Western Story Collection (Seven Authors)

  In Just One Moment

  Dedicated with love to Sophie – the little girl that changed my world

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  The lunch crowd had packed the Last Stand Last Chance Saloon with cowboys, storeowners, and townsfolk. The first sunshine after a couple days of cloudy skies had put the patrons in a jovial mood, forcing everyone to use their outdoor voices in order to carry on a conversation. Sheriff Gideon Johann sat at his usual table with Deputy Finnegan Ford, Doc Abram, and saloon owner Mary Ford. They too were in a fine mood and laughing at another of Finnie’s infamous stories.

  Mary looked around the room as her employees hustled to keep up with the demand for food. She hated not helping, but she was pregnant and had been forced to put up an epic battle to keep Doc from insisting that she go on complete bedrest. Her previous pregnancy had ended in a miscarriage that nearly claimed her life. She had made it well past the point of her previous miscarriage, but her husband and friends danced on pins and needles concerning her health.

  A rancher by the name of Carter Mason walked into the saloon and scanned the crowd until he caught sight of the sheriff. Gideon watched as other patrons scurrying about the saloon interrupted Carter’s long strides towards the table. Carter was an affable enough fellow and Gideon admired the way the rancher waxed his mustache into handlebars.

  “What brings you to town, Carter?” Gideon asked as the rancher made his way to the table.

  Carter had a habit of playing with his mustache as he talked and he started twisting one end of it before he spoke. “I wanted to let you know about something. That sheepherder, Colin Young, his sheep drifted onto my property the other day. I can tolerate sharing free range with those sheep even if I don’t like it, but I don’t appreciate them grazing on my land. Me and the boys, we drove them off my place. Colin was nowhere to be found. Anyways, I went looking for him at his camp afterwards and couldn’t find him. His place looked empty. I thought it odd, but didn’t think a whole lot about it. Well, his sheep were back on my place this morning and I rode back over to his camp and he’s still gone, but I smelled something dead. It smelled pretty rank. I didn’t stick around to find the source of the odor, but I thought that you might want to go take a look,” he said.

  Colin Young lived in a one–room cave that he had dug out of the side of a bluff. People considered him a hermit and a bit of an eccentric, but he had managed to coexist with the ranchers without ever coming to blows. Nearing sixty years old, rumors persisted that Colin had accumulated wealth and possessed a hidden stash of gold coins buried in the cave.

  “Finnie and I will ride out there and have a look. Thank you for taking the time to come to town,” Gideon said.

  “I just hope that you don’t find what I fear you will. Sheep or not, Colin didn’t bother nobody,” Carter said before leaving.

  “Colin stopped in here just a few days ago. He always came in and had one beer whenever he came to town. He’d sit by himself, and if somebody talked to him, then he’d talk, but he’d never start a conversation. I always kind of admired him,” Mary remarked.

  Looking at Finnie, Gideon said, “I guess we better get out there and see what’s going on. I knew we were having too much fun for our own good.”

  In his thick Irish accent, Finnie said, “Aye, lawmen and fun go together about as well as spinsters and whorehouses.”

  Mary rolled her eyes at her husband. “How many different sayings can one man have that work whorehouse into the conversation?” she asked.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You seem a little irritable to me. I don’t want to leave and find out otherwise,” Finnie said only half in jest.

  “Doc is here with me. The only thing that riles the baby is listening to you fret over us. We both could use a break from you,” Mary said and winked at Finnie to soften the blow.

  “What are you smiling at, you old sawbones?” Finnie said to Doc. “I suppose you find this all amusing.”

  “I plead the fifth, but I promise to look after your wife,” Doc said.

  “Gideon, let’s get out of here. I feel about as wanted as the French Pox in a whore – oh, never mind,” Finnie said as he shoved his hat down onto his head and stood.

  Mary arose from her seat, pushed Finnie’s hat off his forehead, and kissed her shorter husband there. “You two be careful out there. Doc and I would be bored out of our minds if we didn’t have you to rile all up,” she said.

  Gideon walked to the jail to get the rifles and his horse while Finnie headed to the livery stable to retrieve and saddle his gelding. By the time the deputy walked his horse out of the stable, Gideon rode up and handed him his rifle. The two men headed southwest out of town. Mountains loomed before them and they followed the trail that snaked through a pass around the first range until they reached the grazing land between the peaks.

  “How well do you know this Colin Young?” Finnie asked.

  “I remember him from when I was a kid. He always kept to himself and never bothered anybody. The ranchers never took to him because of the sheep, but none of them gave him trouble that I ever heard tell. I’ve talked to him once since I moved back to Last Stand. He wasn’t crazy or anything. He just liked to be alone,” Gideon answered.

  Gideon had returned to Last Stand three years ago after an eighteen–year absence that began when he left to fight in the war. He had accidently killed a small boy after a skirmish with Confederates and had spent years running from his conscience until returning to town and coming to terms with his past life. Since his reappearance, he had married Abby, his childhood sweetheart, and had a son. He had also been confronted with the shocking news that he had a grown daughter named Joann.

&n
bsp; “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Hermits aren’t known for going off and exploring or leaving their sheep. Especially an old one that’s been around forever,” Finnie said.

  “Well, we’re about to find out,” Gideon said.

  “I’ve been thinking about something. Now I know that I’m a couple of years younger than you, but did you realize that you’re going to become a grandpa a month or so before I become a daddy for the first time,” Finnie said. He smiled as he looked over at Gideon and watched his friend sit up straight in the saddle and pull his shoulders back.

  “Really? You’ve already annoyed Mary and now you’re going for me. I was only eighteen when Joann was born and I have a son that’s not even two yet. It’s not like I’ve been put out to pasture. I’d say it’s more a reflection on your late start in life. Some of us figure out how things work a little sooner than others. And I swear that if you ever call me grandpa I’ll shoot you on the spot. I don’t care if you saved my life or not. Somethings just can’t be tolerated,” Gideon said.

  Finnie let out a giggle and popped his thigh with the flat of his hand. “I guess I’ve hit a sore spot. Kind of like a burr under the saddle. You’re getting to be a sensitive man in the autumn of your life. Maybe I’ll just call you Papa,” he said.

  Colin Young’s camp sat over the next ridge and Gideon decided to ignore Finnie’s jibes. Otherwise, he would only be giving the little Irishman what he wanted and the needling would never end. It wasn’t as if he could really shoot Finnie and there certainly was no way that he could whip him. Gideon had known Finnie since back in the days when they fought side by side in the war and he’d never seen the Irishman lose a fight.

  Topping the ridge, the camp looked deserted as they rode down towards the sheepherder’s home. The two lawmen caught the scent of something dead that Carter Mason had told them about before they reached the camp. As they walked about, they couldn’t find any fresh tracks since the wind had blown hard the previous day. A campfire inside the cave appeared to have burned out days ago and was now reduced to an ash pile. In the middle of the room, an old wooden chair lay turned over and Gideon thought that he could make out three or four different boot tracks around the seat, but he couldn’t say for sure.

  As they walked out of the cave, Gideon said, “Which way do you think that smell is coming from?”

  “Do I look like coonhound to you? This holler makes it hard to tell which way the wind is blowing with the way that it swirls down here,” Finnie said.

  “Let’s just start walking around. I don’t think that smell can be too far away,” Gideon said.

  Finnie headed off to the left of the cave and Gideon to the right. The bluff curved backwards and Gideon followed along its base. The odor grew stronger with each step until it seemed as if he could taste the stench and he knew that he would be the one that found the source of the smell. The landscape turned rocky, and down in a crevice, Gideon spotted the body of Colin Young. Colin’s herding dog lay dead beside the sheepherder. Flies blanketed the remains and an arm looked gnawed on. Gideon spun around and headed to find Finnie.

  Finnie had walked back to the horses after realizing that the odor grew fainter in the direction that he had walked.

  “I found him. It’s not a pretty sight,” Gideon said.

  “Was he murdered?” Finnie asked.

  “I’d say so. His dog is dead too. We’ll have to pull him out of a crevice and look at the body,” Gideon answered as they mounted their horses.

  Gideon would have loved to order Finnie down into the hole to tie a rope around the body, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it to his friend. He grabbed his lariat and gloves before maneuvering into the crevice. The air felt stagnant in the hole and the smell nearly intolerable. Slipping a noose around Colin’s boots, Gideon tossed the rope up to Finnie.

  “Tie the rope onto my saddle horn. Buck’s good at pulling,” Gideon called out.

  The horse pulled the rope, making a grotesque scene as the body slid against the rocks and out of the hole. Gideon dragged the dog out and joined Finnie. The Irishman looked as green as Ireland. He spun around and dropped to his knees before puking. Seeing the vomit proved the final straw for Gideon and he began retching. Neither man stopped until he had lost his lunch.

  “We’re never going to tell a soul about this,” Gideon said after gaining some semblance of composure.

  “Don’t worry about me. Mary and Abby would never let us live this down. We’d probably have to leave town and start over,” Finnie said as he rolled onto his butt and sat upright.

  “Let’s look him over and get this put to bed,” Gideon said as he arose to his feet.

  Even with the decomposition of the body, Gideon could see bruising and cuts on Colin’s face. Both eyes were blackened and the nose bent at an unnatural angle. Somebody had worked the sheepherder over pretty good before he died. Rolling over the body, they found a bullet hole in the back of the head.

  “Somebody beat him until he gave them his money or they decided that there really wasn’t any and then they walked him out here and shot him. I think there were at least two of them, maybe three. Colin always wore a gold rope ring. I always noticed it because it seemed such an odd thing on somebody that lived so frugally. They stole it,” Gideon said.

  “I’d say that’s about the size of it. Whoever did this was pretty damn ruthless. That sheepherder suffered before they put him out of his misery,” Finnie said.

  “That’s what I was thinking and makes me worry about what is yet to come,” Gideon said.

  “What do we do now?” Finnie asked.

  “We’ll go back to town and get a couple of shovels. We might as well bury Colin here with his dog. I think that’s what he’d want. Tomorrow, we’ll try to find out who did this,” Gideon said.

  “I guess I’ll be able to add gravedigger to my long list of talents,” Finnie remarked.

  Telling Mayor Hiram Howard the reason that they needed to borrow a couple of shovels from his store was all that it took for the news of the murder of Colin Young to spread until the whole town was abuzz by the time that Gideon and Finnie returned from burying the sheepherder. Though most of the townsfolk barely knew the man, a begrudging admiration had developed over the years for the hermit and his lifestyle. Last Stand considered Colin as one of their own and therefore the death felt personal. Every conversation in the shops seemed to concern trying to figure out Colin’s killer.

  Two cowboys sat waiting in the jail when Gideon and Finnie walked into the office. Gideon didn’t recognize either man.

  “May I help you?” Gideon asked.

  “Sheriff, we just returned from driving some cattle to Pagosa Springs and had to stop at the bank to deposit the money for Mr. Dirks. We heard about that sheepherder that got murdered. Last night we stopped at that trading post between here and Pagosa. A couple of rough looking men were in there drinking and they were carrying on about some old hermit sheepherder that wasn’t worth their troubles. They never said anything about killing him, but I thought that you should know. They tried to give us some trouble and we wouldn’t have it,” the taller cowboy said.

  “So you two are ranch hands for Kendal Dirks?” Gideon asked.

  “Yes, sir,” the cowboy answered.

  “What did these men look like?” Gideon queried.

  “One of them stood about your height and had a walleye. The other one looked tall and skinny and had a front tooth missing. There was a black and a sorrel tied out front. I guess they were theirs. We didn’t stay too long,” the cowboy answered.

  “I appreciate you stopping in. Not everybody would have gone to the trouble. Tell Kendal that I said hi,” Gideon said.

  After the cowboys took their leave, Finnie said, “What’s our plan?”

  “There’s no point in heading out tonight. We’ll leave in the morning. That’s too much of a coincidence for them not to be our men. You better sweet talk Mary. We may have to be gone a couple of days. See if she remembe
rs the men that those cowboys described. She wouldn’t forget a man with a walleye and another with a front tooth missing,” Gideon said.

  “She’ll get that break from me that she so wanted,” Finnie said dejectedly as he plopped down in a chair.

  “Quit being such a baby. You know that she was just having some fun with you,” Gideon chided.

  “I suppose. It’d be nice if she acted as if she appreciated me once in a while when I’m in front of my friends,” Finnie said.

  “Nothing is more pathetic than an overly sensitive Irishman,” Gideon said.

  Grinning, Finnie said, “Spoken like a true heartless German. What are we going to do about the sheep?”

  “The only other sheepherder that I know of is on the way to Pagosa Springs. We’ll see if he’ll take them. It’s not like there’s any kin to inherit the estate anyway,” Gideon said.

  “Just as long as I don’t have to herd them,” Finnie said.

  “I’m going home. See you in the morning,” Gideon said.

  Chapter 2

  The morning after finding Colin Young’s body, Gideon and Finnie met at the jail. They crammed enough hardtack and jerky into their saddlebags for three days as well as plenty of cartridges before heading west on the road to Pagosa Springs.

  They weren’t a mile out of town before Finnie said, “I know Mary is a lot farther along than last time, but I still worry to death about her. I’d never forgive myself if I was gone and something happened.”

  “I know you do and I worry about her too, but I wouldn’t have asked you to come along if I thought there was a chance that she needed you. She seems to be doing fine this time,” Gideon said.

  “Doc stopped in the saloon last night and I asked him what he thought. He told me that he felt certain that she was past the danger point,” Finnie said.

  “Well, you know that old goat wouldn’t say that unless he meant it. He thinks a whole lot more of Mary than he does of me or you,” Gideon said and grinned.