Ben Carter picked his way across the frozen terrain. The full moon on the white snow made it easy enough to find his way, but there were drifts everywhere, he’d already fallen headlong into one, and he was wary of doing it again. He could see the cave in the distance, flickering yellow firelight spilling out of its mouth, and almost unconsciously he slowed his pace. He had no desire to go back in there anytime soon, even though it was bitterly cold. He’d come out for a piss and stayed out as long as possible, but now his fingers were turning numb and his lungs were aching with the effort of drawing in the icy air.

It was the same cave they’d used on the way to Bisbee, and there was enough dry wood in there from their previous visit to keep a good fire going. They had plenty of whisky and enough food to keep everybody satisfied, but while their last spell here had been amiable and relaxed, now the atmosphere was tense and edgy. It had eventually become so claustrophobic he’d had to get out for a while. It shouldn’t be like this: they had the money, the robbery had gone like a dream and they’d be back in Redemption by this time tomorrow. Hell, they should be celebrating!

But the trip to Bisbee had so nearly ended in disaster, and that sucked all the enjoyment from the occasion. Cort had come damned close to ruining everything; first killing a man in the street, in front of an audience, and then ignoring their carefully prepared plan and disappearing; spending so long in church that the marshal had nearly caught up with him. They’d got out of town by the skin of their teeth, only the treacherous conditions saving them. If it weren’t for the snow they’d have a posse on their trail right now and Ben was angry as hell with Cort for putting them all at risk. He’d made some harsh comments as they’d ridden and he didn’t regret any of them. Cort hadn’t responded or reacted to his words and that just made him madder. He was itching for a fight and Cort refused to give him one, but it wasn’t just the simmering tension which was causing problems right now.

Ben approached the cave and took a deep breath, figuring he’d drink enough whisky to fall asleep and hope things improved in the morning.  The scene he found was pretty much the one he’d left: Jack Bellows was pretending to doze by the fire, chained to a convenient rock and Cort was sitting in the shadows, quiet and morose, a half-empty bottle of whisky on the ground next to him. Only the firelight glinting in his eyes as he glanced up told Ben he was still awake. His split, swollen lip wasn’t out of place in current company – all four of them looked like hell with bruised and cut faces – and he was hunched in the posture he’d been adopting all day, whenever he thought nobody was looking. His left arm was tucked inside his coat, keeping weight off the shoulder which Toby said had been injured by Tyrone Williams. Cort insisted it was nothing serious and right now Ben didn’t much care if it was.

Toby was still sat beside him, sharing the whisky and murmuring quietly. Cort nodded occasionally, said something back from time to time and it annoyed the hell out of Ben. He hadn’t reckoned on any problems with Toby - the kid had seemed smart and tough enough to ride with them - but today he’d started acting strange. He’d barely left Cort’s side since they came out of the church and the way he stared at him made Ben want to laugh. He couldn’t figure out when or why he’d changed from righteous brother seeking revenge to hero-worshipping school kid, but he could practically see the stars in Toby’s eyes. In a girl it would be nothing short of a full-blown crush but if Cort had noticed he wasn’t saying.
 
Bellows had noticed though, and Ben could see his hooded eyes gleaming with mirth as he looked over. He hadn’t said anything yet, but it was only a matter of time. Ben hunkered down by the fire opposite him, his back to Cort, and scowled.

“You got something to say?”

Bellows grinned. “Seems your buddy’s got a new dog in his life…”

“Shut up, Bellows!” Ben grabbed for his own whisky bottle and took a slug, annoyed at the man’s perception. That was pretty much it, wasn’t it? He resented how Cort wasn’t talking to him, not even to fight, but seemed able to confide in a kid he’d only known a day. He resented how Cort was hurting but wouldn’t admit it and, most of all, he was missing his company. He knew Cort was in a bad place right now, knew that’s why he’d spent so long in that damned church, but he couldn’t forgive him for it just yet. Ben knew something more than prayer had gone down inside, but every time he asked Cort just shrugged; whenever he asked Toby, he said Cort should be the one to explain.

Ben felt caught in a stalemate and the frustration was driving him insane. He took a few more gulps of whisky, welcoming the first warm tendrils of drunkenness, and tried not to let the simmering anger get a hold of him. The situation wasn’t helped by the bag of money on the floor next to him. He knew Cort wouldn’t ride off with it in the night, and he had no interest in stealing it himself, but Toby and Bellows were another story. Toby had seemed sincere enough about his motives last night, and said he came from a wealthy family, but four hundred thousand dollars was more money than most people saw in a lifetime and could do all sorts of things to a man’s mind. Bellows claimed to have no interest in it either, apparently still wanting only to wreak vengeance on Henry Usher. He’d been seriously aggrieved at being chained up again, arguing that he’d kept his part of the deal inside the bank, that they still needed him and should therefore start trusting him. He’d calmed down when Cort gave him half a bottle of whisky, but he had a point.

Ben didn’t know what to do about Bellows. Was he still their prisoner or a new found ally? He’d behaved like a true professional inside the bank – charming the manager with small talk and banter, joking about the injuries to his face and he was so utterly convincing about his business plans that the man had barely raised an eyebrow when he announced he was withdrawing all his money. It was kept in its own private safe and he’d opened it and left the room to get them coffee while they packed the bag full of cash. Afterwards, while Ben had been pacing the stable furiously, cursing Cort and wondering where the hell he’d gone, Bellows had made a quiet tour of the hotel, taking in the aftermath of the shooting and returning with disturbing news about the town Marshal’s intentions. It had been Bellows, too, who’d suggested looking for Cort in the church. Ben should have known to find him there, but he hadn’t been thinking straight. Bellows was clearly a cool, dependable fellow in a crisis, somebody useful for sure, but he was yet to do anything that would earn Ben’s trust. He didn’t know how Cort felt, since Cort wasn’t talking, but they couldn’t keep him chained up forever.

Ben didn’t know what to do about the money either. They couldn’t keep it in Redemption, that was for sure, and they hadn’t even figured out how to get it back to its proper owners. Writing letters was well and good, but those letters would take time to reach their recipients and it wouldn’t take long for Henry Usher to work out who’d stolen his money. Redemption was ready for a battle, but was it ready for full-blown warfare?

Behind him he could hear Toby talking, his words inaudible, and then he heard Cort snicker with amusement. He bristled and took another slug of whisky, about to hurl the bottle at Cort’s head. Bellows caught his eye.

“Whatever you’re about to do, sonny, don’t!” His voice was low but he sat up, smooth and fast, and moved as close as his chains would allow. “You’ll only make things worse!”

“Back off Bellows, this isn’t your business.”

“The hell it’s not. Cort’s injured but that kid isn’t, and you know he’s gonna back him up if you decide to pick a fight. I don’t know what’s happened, but if the two of you can’t be buddies then our plan’s shot to hell and we may as well take the money back to Bisbee.”

The wave of anger passed and Ben loosened his grip on the bottle slightly. “He’s barely said three words to me all day, what am I supposed to do?”

Bellows shrugged. “You could try talking to him. Cort’s the kind of man people want to follow, like that kid there, so you may as well get used to it. The only way you’ll ever have him to yourself is to marry him!”

Something about the ludicrous remark struck Ben as hilarious and he burst out laughing, sneezing whisky all over the fire which flared and crackled as it hit. Bellows was grinning and that made him laugh harder, relishing the way it released so much pent-up tension. When he finally recovered, wiping tears from his eyes, he found Toby by the fire, scowling at him.

“What’s so funny?”

Ben shook his head. “Not you. You’re not that important.”

The scowl deepened. “I said what’s so damned funny.”

Ben was about to stand, ready to give this insolent pup a punch in the mouth, but Bellows’ sardonic drawl stopped him in his tracks.

“Butt out, kid. You and Cort been gossiping like schoolgirls all night and Ben didn’t figure it was his business to interfere, so what makes this your business?”

“I dunno, the atmosphere’s a little…” Toby seemed embarrassed. “Just wanted to share the joke, I guess.”

Bellows gazed at him for a moment then motioned him to sit. Toby hunkered down without hesitation and Bellows’ eyes flickered towards the rock where Cort was sitting.

“You feel like joining us, Marshal? You’re a regular rain cloud on our little parade.”

There was no response and Ben resisted the urge to turn his head and look. Bellows continued.

“If you fall apart whenever things don’t go right, these boys ain’t gonna keep following.”

Now there was a rustle of movement, a sharp intake of breath, a curse and Cort stepped into the firelight. He was clutching his whisky bottle and glaring at Bellows.

“I never asked anyone to follow me, Bellows. You’re all here of your own free will.”

Bellows rattled his chains. “You reckon?”

Cort dug a key out of his pants pocket. “You can leave right now if you want.”

Bellows immediately held out his wrists. Cort unlocked the manacles but instead of bolting from the cave, Bellows spread out and made himself comfortable. He glanced at Cort, who was frowning.

“I ain’t going nowhere. You got to start trusting me and I figure this is the only way to prove I’m not gonna shoot you, or steal that money.”

“What happens when we’re asleep?” Cort sat down by the fire, wincing and rubbing his shoulder. Bellows was still watching him, smiling.

“Have a little faith, Reverend.”

Cort took a gulp of whisky and stared into the flames, clearly prepared to say no more. Ben started getting twitchy again and he stole a few glances, trying to find a way to break the awkward silence, but the appropriate words wouldn’t come. Finally Bellows stood up with an exaggerated sigh and beckoned to Toby.

“Let’s you and me take a walk, kid. These ladies got some things to discuss.”

Toby glanced over at Cort for approval but he didn’t look up. He got to his feet cautiously and slapped his guns.

“Remember I got these, old man. Don’t be getting ideas!”

Bellows just laughed and strode out of the cave, Toby on his heels. Cort didn’t move and Ben gazed at him as the silence lengthened again.

“You’re one stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?”

No response. He tried again.

“I ain’t sorry for what I said before, so don’t be expecting apologies.”

The corner of Cort’s mouth twitched but he just kept staring at the fire.

“Damn it, Cort, you killed a man and you said a prayer and asked forgiveness. Can you let it go now?”

“I’m trying.” The words were so quiet that Ben barely caught them.

“Try harder, buddy, ‘cause you’re no use to anyone like this. If you’re gonna be boss you need to stop thinking like a preacher, get tough and make some damned decisions!””

Cort glanced at him quizzically. “Such as?”

“Such as what we do about Bellows, where we hide that bag of cash, what we do when Usher comes calling, how long we got to plan for his visit…”

“Not long.” Cort took a gulp of whisky. “As soon as he reaches Bisbee he’ll know to come looking for that money in Redemption.”

Ben stared, not sure he’d heard right. “How would he know that?”

“I asked the priest in that church to pass it along”. Cort shrugged. “It’ll stop Usher giving folks a hard time for something that’s not their fault.”

All the anger of the past day came rushing back to the surface and Ben was near enough shaking with rage. How could Cort be so damned stupid?

“So getting us nearly arrested wasn’t enough? You figured you’d tell Usher where to find us for good measure? Hell Cort, did you give that preacher our names too?”

Cort was watching him stoically. “He’s a good man…”

“He’s Usher’s priest, dammit!” Ben shot to his feet. “He’s a corrupt piece of shit like everyone else in that organisation and you just signed our fucking death warrants, you jackass!”

He kicked out viciously at a lump of rock. It scudded across the ground and collided solidly with Cort’s knee. He swore softly, put down his whisky bottle and got slowly to his feet. His eyes were burning and it had nothing to do with the fire at his feet.
 
“You should watch your temper, it makes you erratic.”

Ben clenched his fists. “You don’t think I got cause? I always figured you were smart, but seems to me whenever you get mixed up with the church your brains turn to shit!”

“Is that so?” Cort sounded totally calm. “Seems to me every time you get a feeling you don’t understand, you get angry.”

“Are you saying I’m stupid?” Ben took a step forward, itching to punch him in the face, but Cort didn’t budge.

“I’m not fighting you, and if you hit me there’s no going back. I won’t accept some half-arsed apology when you’ve cooled off, so be sure of yourself.”

He sounded totally sincere and Ben hesitated. This was a clear warning that any attack would end their relationship permanently. Was it worth it? Cort was watching him.

“Why don’t you say what’s really on your mind, Ben? If you’ve got some beef with Toby just spit it out!”

Ben glared at him. “I got no beef with Toby except he looks at you like you’re some kind of hero, and I reckon you like it!”

“It’s pretty much how I looked at John Herod when I was that age, though I hope I make a better example.” Cort looked a little sly now. “Are you jealous ‘cause he don’t look at you that way?”

“Like a schoolgirl with a crush?” Ben laughed and he found the notion genuinely amusing. “No, you conceited son of a bitch, you can have him all to yourself. You might find it gets tiresome after a spell.”

Cort smiled “It’ll be hell with two wives fighting over me!”

The words hit Ben like a bullet and he burst out laughing for the second time in one night. He managed to splutter out a response.

“I really need to get myself a woman!”

“Reckon so.” Cort stepped forward, offering his hand. Ben took it and shook. On impulse he pulled Cort into a rough embrace. There was no resistance or hesitation; Cort gripped him right back.

“Well ain’t this intimate!”

Jack Bellows’ amused drawl cut through the camaraderie like a cheese knife and they sprang apart.

“Shouldn’t leave two girls chattering, I guess!””

Ben whirled around, more than a little embarrassed, but forgot it instantly when he saw what was confronting him. Bellows was alone and holding both of Toby’s Army Colts. They were cocked and ready, one aimed at him, the other at Cort.

His hand moved instantly to the Remington on his hip, but Bellows made a clucking noise and shook his head.

“You’re not fast enough, son.” His eyes flickered across to Cort. “Not even you, Cortez Thompson!”

Cort was glowering from under his fringe.

“Take the money and get out, Bellows. That’s what you’ve been planning all along, isn’t it?”

Bellows smirked. “So much for Christian charity”

To Ben’s utter astonishment he disarmed the pistols and tossed them to the ground.

“I don’t know what I gotta do to make you ladies trust me, but I’m hoping this is a start.”

He kicked the weapons towards Cort then flopped down by the fire and spread himself out again. He reached for his whisky and took a long draught. Cort was watching him, eyes narrowed.

“What have you done with Toby, you bastard?”

“We’re still not on first name terms?” Bellows grinned. “Relax Marshal, your dog’s gonna have a sore head tomorrow but he’ll survive.”

“Cort scowled. ”What did you do to him?”

Bellows shrugged nonchalantly. “Just showed him it’s a man’s world out there, and he’s still a boy. Ben’s got no problem with that, do you Ben?”

Ben shook his head in disbelief. Toby could be a pain in the arse for sure, but he’d done nothing to deserve a beating. Bellows was a callous, merciless thug and he didn’t care to think what might have happened out in the snow. He turned towards the cave entrance, calling back over his shoulder.

“If you’ve hurt him you’re a dead man!”

“Promises, promises…” Bellows’ voice drifted after him as he dashed outside, his heart pounding in his chest, dreading what he might find.

Toby was lying just inside the cave mouth. His nose was bleeding and there was a dark stain on the dirt beside his head. Ben dropped to his knees beside him and shook him urgently.

“Wake up, kid.”

It took a bit more shaking before Toby moaned and opened his eyes, blinking a few times to focus.

“What happened?”

Ben grinned with relief. “I reckon you learned a few things about Jack Bellows...”

Toby sat up slowly, grimacing and rubbing the back of his head. “Reckon I did.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “Did you cheek him?”

Toby scowled. “He ain’t my father and I’ll cheek whoever I damned please!” He shook his head and winced, suddenly contrite.

“I been reading about outlaws all my life but Cort was the first one I actually met. He’s so decent and kind I figured all bad men must be like that deep down...”

Ben laughed out loud. “You got some learning to do, Toby. Cort was never like other outlaws ‘cause he’s got a heart and a conscience. Sometimes he goes through hell because of it…”

Toby nodded. “I saw that today.”

He shot Ben a furtive look. “I know you and him are buddies, and I ain’t trying to come between you, but you can’t blame me for liking him!”

Ben stood up. “I don’t blame you, kid. He’s a better man than you know.”

He thrust out a hand and helped Toby stand.

“We’re in a damned ungodly situation right now, so don’t be surprised if he don’t work too many miracles.”

Toby nodded and shivered. Ben turned on his heel and went back into the cave. He found Cort and Bellows sitting together by the fire, talking quietly. Toby’s guns were on top of a nearby stone and Cort’s gun belt was lying there too. Clearly the two of them had reached an understanding. On impulse Ben unbuckled his own guns, laid them on the rock and went to join them. A moment later Toby hunkered down beside him, wiping his nose and glaring at Bellows, who picked up a bottle of whisky and offered it to him.

“No hard feelings, kid, huh?”

Toby grabbed the bottle and took a gulp. He squinted at Bellows, his eyes glinting dangerously in the firelight.

“I’ll let you know, old man!”

“That’s enough!” Cort sounded weary. “This isn’t a contest to find out who’s toughest, or who can get hurt the worst! We’ve all got to start working together now and any personal issues get left behind in this cave, right?”

Toby glanced at him and finally nodded. “You gonna put me in the picture now?”

Cort shot him a fleeting smile. “I promised didn’t I? After that we’re going to make some decisions, make a plan and work this damned thing out.”

Jack Bellows smirked. “We already got one thing decided, don’t we? You gonna tell them, Marshal?”

Cort sighed and took a deep breath, eyeing Ben directly.