Wyatt frowned, confused. He tapped the heel of his boot on the ground, a nervous tick that went unnoticed by most people. “Well, then, Marshal, I’m the perfect man for the job. I wasn’t bein’ all that honest right then. Thing is, I don’t care much about protecting and serving. I’m out of money and I need a job. I can be as dishonest as you like.”
A slow, sly grin spread across the marshal’s face. “This might work after all.” He opened a drawer, pulled out two photographs, and laid them side by side on his desk. Leaning forward, Wyatt looked at the images and recognized them as pictures of cows with their hides branded.
The marshal tapped his finger on one of the photographs. “What do you see when you look at this?”
Wyatt hesitated, wondering if he was supposed to give an answer other than the obvious. Slowly, he said, “It’s a cow branded with an X.”
The marshal nodded his approval. “That’s right. It’s the Xavier Ranch’s brand. They’ve been around these parts since I was a lad. I know the rancher and all his hands.”
Wyatt didn’t know why any of this mattered, but he nodded agreeably and waited for more of the marshal’s chin-wagging.
The marshal tapped the other photograph. “Now, tell me what you see when you look at this photograph, Mr. Parker.”
Wyatt didn’t hesitate this time. “That’s another cow with another brand. Looks like the number 8 decided to lay itself down and take a nap.”
The marshal laughed heartily at his description. “That there is called the infinity symbol, and it’s the brand for the Infinity Ranch, which is right next to the Xaviers. Now, these folks, the Fins, they’ve only been in town for a couple years. And the thing is, for the last few months, the Xaviers have been reporting missing cattle. While their cattle go missing, the cattle on the Infinity Ranch keep multiplyin’. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
Wyatt shrugged. “I reckon you think the folks at the Infinity Ranch are stealing cattle from the Xaviers, but I don’t see how they could get away with that, so long as the Xaviers make sure to brand all their cattle properly.
The marshal smiled at him in an indulgent way, like one would an ignorant child, and it ruffled Wyatt’s feathers. He didn’t appreciate being looked down on, but he held his tongue.
“Look at the photographs again, Mr. Parker, and if you can tell me why folks at the Infinity Ranch are gettin’ away with rustling cattle from the Xaviers, then you have a job to do that will earn you a penny or two.”
Wyatt couldn’t remember feeling so nervous and desperate to say the right thing, not even when he was a boy standing on trembling knees reciting the Lord’s Prayer in front of the whole church. He frowned at the two photos, looking back and forth, trying to figure out how the brands showed anything but who the cattle belonged to.
He’d never been known for his smarts. He wasn’t stupid, and might even have been blessed with above-average intelligence, but there hadn’t been much time for book learning growing up since his pa had needed him most of the time to help with the crops. But somehow, despite his lack of education, Wyatt figured out how the Infinity folks were rustling cattle from the Xaviers. His heart thrummed in his chest. He was darn impressed with himself and pretty darn impressed with the Fins too, for being so wily.
“You got a piece of paper and pencil, Marshal?”
“Sure do.” Both were planted in front of him.
Wyatt drew the X first. “The Xaviers, they brand all their cattle with an X. Easy as pie.”
The marshal nodded. “Been that way for years.”
“Then the Infinity folks come in with their own symbol, a lazy 8.” He drew another X. “To get away with stealing, all they’ve gotta do is steal a cow with the X and brand over the same place with a branding iron that has a C to the left and a backwards C to the right of the same X. Then it looks like it’s one of their cows. That’s how they’re stealing.” He drew the swirl to each side of the X.
Setting the pencil down, Wyatt leaned back in his chair, pleased as punch with himself.
“That’s very good, Mr. Parker.”
He shrugged his good shoulder, attempting to appear casual, though he felt as proud as a peacock. He thought to himself that if Marnie had stuck around, she might’ve been impressed by what he’d figured out, even without a fancy New York education.
“You and I can see what’s happening,” the marshal explained. “But what I need now is proof. I need someone to witness the theft before I can make any arrests. That’s where you come in.”
“You want me to go spy on ‘em?” Wyatt asked, wondering how he could manage to stay out of sight while the hands did the branding.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. I want you to get hired on there as a ranch hand, get involved in the work, and get them to trust you. Then when you see one of the hands branding over the Xaviers’ brand, you arrest him and bring him to me.”
Wyatt scratched his beard. “So you want me to pretend to be a ranch hand, but really be a deputy of the law.”
The marshal nodded. “That’s the long and short of it. You’ll be an undercover deputy. You’re the perfect man for the job, really, since you’re new in town. No one will guess your true motives for getting a job as a ranch hand. What do you say?”
Some of Wyatt’s earlier excitement drained out of him. He was tired of being a cowhand and had hoped to do something different as a deputy. Beggars can’t be choosers, though, so he agreed to the assignment. “I’d be happy to take on this task, Marshal. I’m much obliged for the opportunity.”
The marshal’s face split into a wide grin. He stood as Wyatt did and reached out to shake his hand again. Wyatt groaned inwardly as the marshal caused renewed pain in his arm by bobbing it up and down.
“I forgot to mention the best thing about this job.”
“Oh?” Wyatt quirked his head.
“The Infinity Ranch is run by a real pretty lady. Her pa died, which left her in charge. I suspect she’s the brains behind the whole thievin’ operation.”
Wyatt frowned. “You mean I’m gonna have to arrest a woman?” He didn’t like the prospect of that one bit.
The marshal shook his head. “Nah, I reckon I’ll be the one doing that. Your job is to arrest the hand you catch carrying out her orders. Once you get him back here, I’ll find out during interrogation if what I suspect is true.”
Wyatt nodded his understanding, still not entirely liking the arrangement.
“Report back tomorrow, Mr. Parker. I’ll swear you in, proper-like, and then you can go about getting a job at the ranch.”
Chapter Three
Elsie sat atop her mare and watched her ranch hands as they rebranded the cattle acquired from the latest roundup. The activity was performed in a flat clearing on the opposite end of the property, the side farthest from the Xaviers. Tall elm trees circled the space, providing some cover and making it an ideal location for performing the final stage of the theft. Still, Elsie made sure to keep an eye out for unwanted visitors who might happen upon them.
She’d never thought her scheme would become so successful. According to her calculations, she and Randall had covertly stolen and rebranded nearly 200 head of cattle from the Xaviers. In time, people in town greeted her with less pity and more respect as her ranch went from nearly bankrupt to prosperous. As far as the townsfolk knew, she was a wily rancher who had turned a brown plot of land into a steady source of income.
She’d never participated in branding before her pa died. Because of that, the formerly unfamiliar scent of hot metal and burnt hide became associated with Xavier. Every time the wind wafted the scents to where she sat on her horse watching, a surge of vengeance would fill her spirit.
Randall and her two hands were loyal and willing participants in the dishonest branding. Randall had even assisted with shaping the iron used to carry out the thefts. Elsie rewarded them all richly. For every five cows they stole and rebranded, she gave them the full profit from one of them. At first, she had
planned to give them the profit from all of them. She didn’t care about the money. She only cared about getting even with the Xaviers, but Randall had sat her down and explained how she needed to think smart. She needed to reinvest the money they earned in the ranch so that they all would have long-term employment. With Randall’s help, she worked out a pay system that benefited both the profitability of the ranch itself and her individual hands, whose families happily thrived with the extra income.
Elsie had no intention of ever stopping her operation, though Randall had suggested to her that she might consider ending the scheme after a year or so. He was concerned that they would be caught. But Elsie couldn’t imagine missing out on the thrill of hurting the Xaviers. With every newly stolen cow, she felt that injustice was being remedied in some small way. Of course, no number of cattle would ever make up for the way Mark Xavier had pushed Cal Fin into an early grave.
Along with a dark sense of satisfaction, however, Elsie carried guilt. She knew her pa wouldn’t approve of her dishonest undertakings, and knowing that tore at her heart like barbed wire on cotton. She didn’t share this overwhelming feeling of guilt with Randall, for she knew he would use it as an argument that they should discontinue the operation.
The rumbling sound of Randall’s hearty laughter reached her ears. “You’ll never believe what the missus said to me this morning,” he relayed to John, one of the hands. “She says…” The tweeting of a bird nearby drowned out the rest of Randall’s story, but Elsie heard him laugh with John over whatever it was that his wife had said.
She felt an ache in her chest. Her activities over the last year had prevented her from engaging in the more pleasurable activities of life, such as courting and attending social events. Whenever she heard people talking about their families fondly, it would serve as a painful reminder of what she’d given up in order to get her revenge on the Xaviers. Of all the people in the world, she’d only ever loved her ma and pa, and now that they were gone, the feeling of being loved and loving in return was but a memory, and in its place was loneliness.
Randall mounted his horse and cantered up to where Elsie was sitting on her horse observing them.
“Everything going all right?” Elsie asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, we’re just about done. When’s the next roundup?”
Elsie considered it. Planning the times when they would sneak onto the Xaviers’ property was simultaneously thrilling and guilt-inducing for her. Randall used her silence as an opportunity to once again make a case for her to stop.
“Maybe this should be our last one,” he suggested. “I saw Xavier at the blacksmith’s shop yesterday. He’s spitting mad about your success. As I told you before, success is the best revenge, and you’ve achieved that tenfold, plus you’ve hurt his ranch in the process.”
“Good,” Elsie said, satisfaction washing over her.
“Trouble is, I think he suspects something,” Randall continued. “He was asking me questions about you and how many cattle—”
“It doesn’t matter what he suspects,” Elsie cut in. “He has no proof of anything, so let him think whatever he wants. I hope he drives himself mad trying to figure out what’s happening to his cattle.”
Randall let out a sigh of frustration. “You know what you need, Elsie Fin? A darn good spanking. The rebranding has gone on long enough. Why not quit while we’re ahead and before we get caught?”
Elsie glared at him. Randall was her closest ally, but he was also her employee. “You forget yourself,” she said tersely. “I’m not a child. In fact, I’m your boss.”
He matched her glare. “That may be the case, but it won’t stop me from speaking my mind. You’re out-and-out selfish, you know that? You don’t think about what will happen to us if we’re caught. We’ll go to prison, and you might not care about that, but me and the hands… we’ve got families who will suffer.”
His words felt like a stab to her heart. She clenched her jaw, making an effort not to allow tears to fall after his harsh statement. It was true; she wasn’t thinking about anyone but herself and how to continue feeding her revenge. Still, her hands benefited from the arrangement, and Randall was the only one who had expressed any kind of reservation to her.
“Do the other hands feel the same way about it, or are you putting words in their mouths?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Like you, they’re young and reckless. They’re thinking about making money now, not about what could happen in the future. It’s your job to take care of them. Your pa wouldn’t have put them in this kind of danger, Elsie.”
Randall must have noticed the hurt in her eyes, for his expression softened. “You know I’ll help you with whatever you decide. But think it over, all right? We should quit sooner rather than later. The noose is tightening as we speak.” He nudged the horse forward with his heels and rejoined the men in rebranding the last bull.
A lump grew in Elsie’s throat as she sorted through the feelings Randall’s admonishment had stirred in her. A part of her felt outraged that he would speak to her in such a way, but a bigger part of her felt a longing for someone in her life strong enough to take responsibility away from her. Her vengeance was out of control. She knew she was doing wrong and there was no reason to continue other than to feed the monster of hatred in her heart, but she also knew she couldn’t bring herself to stop.
Elsie rode back to the barn deep in thought. What she needed, she realized, was a good husband, a man who would be loyal to her like Randall was, but who also was strong enough like her pa to rein her in. Finding such a man in town seemed an impossibility. How could she locate a man who was strong and good and who wouldn’t turn her into the law?
Upon arriving at her barn and unsaddling her horse, she ran the brush across his lean body absently. She cleaned out his hooves by habit, all the while thinking about how to go about finding a husband.
“I’ve got it!” she exclaimed out loud to her horse. His ears perked up and he nickered at her, which made her smile. “I’ll get me a mail-order husband.”
This was a perfect solution. It had worked for Susannah Harrington and Betsy Mason. When no man in Virginia City had lived up to their expectations, they’d expanded their search to the rest of the country by writing advertisements with very specific criteria for a husband. There was no reason why this couldn’t work out similarly well for Elsie.
A stranger to town wouldn’t know the marshal or the Xaviers, and she could ensure he was loyal to her before telling him about the rebranding operations. Furthermore, she wouldn’t feel so alone. Even if she never grew to love her mail-order groom, at least she would have a life partner—someone who could share in the heavy burden of responsibility that had befallen her since her pa’s death.
The next day, with excitement carrying her steps, she walked to the telegraph office to submit a mail-order groom advertisement in the New York paper.
Woman, age 18, owner of profitable cattle ranch, seeks a loyal man, age 18 to 25, for marriage. Should be of sound mind and good character. Means unimportant. Send replies to Elsie Fin of the Infinity Ranch, Virginia City, Nevada.
Chapter Four
The marshal swore Wyatt in as a proper Virginia City lawman. Deputy Parker then tucked his new badge into his saddlebag and rode out to the Infinity Ranch. He didn’t want to be a cowboy anymore, but as far as undercover missions went, he reckoned this was one of the easier ones. He didn’t even have to pretend to be anything he wasn’t. In fact, he felt more like he was playing make-believe deputy than make-believe ranch hand.
The one complication was his arm injury. He would need to hide that long enough to carry out his undercover task. The injury would be discovered eventually if he participated in any labor, but he didn’t believe it would take long for him to gain Miss Fin’s trust and become acquainted with the inner workings of the business.
On the way to the Infinity Ranch, he rode past the Xaviers’ vast range. The land he saw was rich and fertile, not to mention lar
ge, and there must have been at least a thousand head of cattle spread out as far as the eye could see. He knew there wasn’t good reasoning for it, but he felt an instant strong dislike for the Xaviers. They were wealthy in a big way, just like his boss who’d ditched him without so much as batting an eye.
He tethered his horse outside the Fins’ cabin, which looked to be in a general state of disrepair. Cracks streaked the clouded windows like jagged lightning. One of the porch steps was rotted clear through, so he had to step over it when he climbed to the door. He knocked and called out. “Hullo, the house! Anyone there?”
While he waited for an answer, he rehearsed in his head what he would say in order to get himself the job. All he had to do was convince the lady that he would work hard in exchange for room and board. He wouldn’t ask for a salary. The only reason he could think of that she might say no to such an offer would be if she suspected he was there as a lawman. He doubted that would happen, so long as he kept his wits about him. He was a cowboy after all. He just had to be himself.
When nobody came to the door, Wyatt wandered to the barn about fifty paces south. The barn was in better shape than the cabin and looked to be freshly painted. He knew he was right when he got closer and smelled the paint. A bright orange color, it gave the modest ranch an appearance of warmth and prosperity that felt absent at the house.
He strode in and looked around for someone to chat to. A cow was mooing on the far side of the barn, so he walked in that direction, thinking someone might be over there fetching a fresh bucket of milk.
“Hold it right there, mister!” a high-pitched voice exclaimed, startling Wyatt and causing him to halt his steps. “Get your hands in the air!”
Justice for Elsie Page 2