Redemption's Edge

by Shirleen Davies

Chapter Five

  “Who else could it be except Tolbert?” Bull Mason grumbled as he sat whittling a piece of wood. “That man’s been after Pat’s land for years. Hell, we’ve spent more time fighting his men than growing the herd. Someone needs to set him straight.”

  “How many acres you think he’s got now?” Joe, the newest ranch hand, asked as he sipped his evening coffee.

  “Maybe a couple thousand more than here.” Ellis threw out the last of the grounds and rinsed the coffee pot with water. “No one seems to know for sure.”

  “He runs more head and has double the number of men.” Rudolph, or Rude as he preferred to be called, had been on the ranch as long as Hank and Bernice. He’d met Pat when he’d first arrived in Splendor and liked the man right away.

  Dax and Luke leaned against the wall of the porch and listened to the conversation. They’d learned quite a bit about four of the ranch hands in the last few days. There’d been little time to get to know the others who sat with them, relaxing.

  Bull and Ellis had fought for the North during the war, both mustering out in 1863. Neither Rude, the oldest, nor Joe, the youngest, had fought, both already settled in Montana when the war broke out. If they had fought, their sentiments were clear. Neither agreed with the South’s determination to secede, splitting the country in two, yet no one voiced a word against Dax or Luke. They’d seen how the general, as they’d started to call him, had insulted Drake and stood his ground, Luke right alongside him. Their respect for the two had grown, even as their sentiments against the war stayed intact.

  “What are we going to do, General?” Bull asked, not looking up from his whittling. “We can’t let Tolbert get away with this.”

  “I don’t have a good answer for you. I will say, whoever shot Hank won’t go unpunished.”

  “What do you want us to do in the meantime?” Ellis crossed his arms and leaned against the porch. Of all the men, he found it hardest to shift his allegiance from Pat to the Pelletier brothers, but Dax sensed that once they’d won his trust, he’d be a strong ally.

  “Luke and I will be going to town tomorrow for more men. Joe, you’ll stay here to watch the place while the others join the rest of the men, round up the herd, and bring them closer to the house.”

  “We won’t be able to graze them all close in for long.” Bull stood and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “More men would allow us to split the heard into smaller groups and keep them close.” Luke spoke more to Dax than the others. The plan wasn’t much different from guarding prisoners during the war.

  “Bring them in tomorrow. We’ll split the herd into small numbers as we hire more men. Ellis, you’ll ramrod tomorrow.” Dax straightened his tall frame. “Goodnight, gentlemen.”

  Luke followed him inside. “You think Ellis is the right choice? Seems Bull might be a better pick.”

  “You’re right, but Ellis is the one doing the grumbling. Besides Rude and Hank, he’s been here the longest. I want to see how he handles the others. By tomorrow afternoon, we’ll know how he does and perhaps more about how far we can trust him.”

  “Do you have any idea who may have shot Wilson?” King Tolbert asked as Drake relayed the news one of the men had heard about the Pelletier foreman.

  “Nope. Could’ve been anyone.”

  King Tolbert sat behind his desk, deciding how to handle the new owners of the Hanes ranch. He thought he had plenty of time. The sudden death of Pat Hanes changed things, as did the unexpected passing of the land into someone else’s hands. He’d thought the property would go up for auction, which would mean a cheap price compared to what Hanes had paid for each parcel.

  It still burned how the absentee landowner had been able to steal property out from under him. King lived in the valley, knew everyone, yet each time a rancher had trouble, they reached out to Pat through Hank Wilson. Never had anyone contacted him. Those sales had allowed the Texas Ranger to build a ranch into something to rival his own holdings.

  From what Drake had told him, the Pelletiers came from old southern money. Drake didn’t appear to fear the two brothers, but King could sense the caution in his man when he spoke of them. One, an ex-general. The other, an ex-major. Drake said he knew Dax better, having served under him. He knew less of the younger one, but he heard stories from others. Both had superior fighting skills, although Dax made more calculated moves, while Luke tended to be somewhat brash in his actions. Drake warned King that both had reputations for never giving ground. Well, Tolbert would see about that.

  “The new owners won’t take kindly to their man being shot, And no matter who pulled the trigger, they’ll look to me. What else have you heard?”

  “The Pelletiers plan to ride into town this morning to hire more men. They’ve got the others bringing in the herd, circling them close.” It had been a good move to insert one of their men into the Pelletier ranch. They’d learned much over the last few months.

  “That’s good. Means they’re scared.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it, boss. Those two just don’t give up. I’m thinking their plan is to grow the herd, maybe get the place ready to sell. A few hundred more head of cattle and more men would challenge what you have. Some Englishman with money could swoop in and snap up that property real quick if they plan it right. They’ve still got property in Savannah, and jobs in Texas. Why would those two want to stay here? No, I think they’ll get the best price they can for the place and move on.”

  King listened to Drake’s comments, not sure he bought into them. He felt certain once they learned the true potential of the land, they might make the decision to stay and build up the ranch. It would be, in King’s mind, an unwise decision if that’s what they did. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone else taking more land from him or keeping what he felt should rightfully be his. They weren’t ranchers—hell, from what he’d learned, they didn’t know the first thing about the cattle business.

  “How many men are they after?”

  “Don’t know for certain. My guess is at least a half-dozen.”

  King thought about the number, which would bring them up to about the same number of men as him. It made a statement. They were willing to fight for the ranch, and that was unwelcome news. Tolbert stood and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain to look out at the distant mountains.

  “When are they bringing in the cattle?”

  “Today.”

  King narrowed his eyes at Drake. “Get the men out there, scatter the herd, and don’t let them get close to the inner pastures. No gunfire. And don’t let them see your faces. I don’t want them tying it back to us.” His goal wasn’t to kill, only to show the Pelletier brothers the true nature of ranching and discourage them from staying. When they give up, he’d be ready to buy them out.

  “And if they get in our way?”

  “No killing, Drake. Scare them. If you have to fire, aim into the air. I don’t want anyone shot. Do you understand?”

  “Sure, boss.” Drake’s heavy footsteps echoed in the hall as he left. King could hear the front door close and knew the man wasn’t happy about the last instruction.

  He looked up at the soft knock on his office door and guessed it to be his daughter, Abigail.

  “Come in.”

  “Good morning, Father.” Her soft voice and quiet ways always tugged at her father’s heart. “I thought I heard you in here.”

  King watched Abby close the door. She’d always been the exact image of her mother. Beautiful, deep red hair, creamy complexion with a sprinkling of freckles across her nose, and a smile like the morning sun. She reached up and placed a kiss on her father’s cheek.

  “Drake had some things to talk over with me. What are your plans?” He noticed her eyebrows arch at his question.

  “You didn’t forget about taking me to town today, did you?”

  He had, and felt a pang of guilt, but that was easy to correct. “Of course not. When will you be ready?”

  King watched her eyes l
ight up. “Now, if it suits you.”

  “Get what you need and I’ll have someone ready the buggy.”

  As she rushed out of the room, he wished life could be different for the young woman. Her mother had passed away a few years after Abby’s birth. He’d just started building the ranch and the time he could spend with his daughter had been slight. She’d attended boarding school and finishing school in Philadelphia, surrounded by other girls from well-to-do families. Abby returned to Montana before Christmas, asking him to allow her to stay. He’d agreed. The time had come for her to be courted, yet the possibilities were few in this remote area.

  King couldn’t worry about the quality of her suitors now. He had more pressing matters, such as the land he coveted, which rested in the hands of two ex-Confederate soldiers. He walked outside and called for one of the hands to prepare the buggy.

  “I’m ready, Father.”

  The cowhand who’d harnessed the rig helped Abby onto the seat. King watched as the man’s eyes roamed over his daughter, making him reconsider his previous thought. Perhaps he’d need to make time to identify someone suitable for his daughter sooner rather than later. He had many ties in the territorial capital of Big Pine. Perhaps he’d look there.

  King slapped the reins, deciding to give both his daughter and his troubles with the Pelletiers more thought.

  “That’s five men.” Luke and Dax sat at the restaurant connected to the boardinghouse and finished their noon meal. They’d been lucky. A rancher across the line in Idaho territory had sold out. The new owner brought in his own men, letting many of the others go. A group had ridden into Montana, some rode south to Utah, and others rode toward Washington and Oregon. Dax had spotted them at the livery, and after a few minutes, the five had found work. They were now on their way to the ranch, while the brothers stayed to pass the word around town.

  “We’re fortunate we saw them before they spoke with Tolbert. He might have hired them to keep the men out of our reach.” Luke placed the last bite of food in his mouth and clasped his hands behind his head.

  Dax finished his meal and leaned back in the chair, looking outside toward the livery and the Rose Saloon across the dirt street. He thought about Rachel, had been thinking about her since the day he’d taken her back to town. It irritated him that he couldn’t get the woman out of his mind. Dax had considered staying in town that night, going to the Rose, and finding one of the women to take the edge off. A couple of them were pretty enough. The trouble seemed to be that none were worth the effort and he’d still leave with an ache for the beautiful nurse. The best course was to follow their plan to get the ranch ready to sell, find a buyer, and ride back to Texas and the jobs they’d left behind.

  Luke rapped him on the arm. “Isn’t that Miss Davenport walking toward the livery?”

  Dax sat up and debated only a moment. “It is.” He stood and looked down at his brother, his jaw working.

  Luke suppressed a grin. “Might be a good idea to go say hello. You can never thank a pretty woman too much.” He ignored the contemptuous look Dax shot him as he turned toward the door. Luke had thought his brother might have something on his mind. He just hadn’t connected it to Miss Davenport. In Luke’s opinion, the time had come for Dax to show a little interest in a woman. Someone who might bring sense back into his brother’s life. Rachel Davenport might be the perfect woman to do it.

  Dax followed her toward the livery and stood back, leaning against the wall of the Western Union office next door while she spoke to the blacksmith. Dax had met the tall, bruiser of a man with broad shoulders and muscled arms. He towered over Rachel and had to lean over as they spoke. She reached into her reticule, pulled out some money, and placed it in the smithy’s hand, smiling up at him.

  “Thanks again, Mr. Brandt, for doing the work and keeping Old Pete a couple of extra days. I hope that covers it.” She nodded to the coins in his hand.

  “That will cover it fine, ma’am.” He grabbed the horse’s reins and handed them to Rachel before turning back to his work.

  Dax watched as Rachel whispered a few quiet words to her horse, then led him outside. Her eyes registered surprise when she spotted him.

  She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun and smiled up at him. “Hello, General. What brings you to town?” She fought the hope he’d come to visit her or even ask her to supper.

  Her smile speared clear through him, almost painful in its intensity. He’d never been affected by a woman to this degree before and didn’t quite know how to take it.

  Dax touched a finger to the brim of his hat. “Good afternoon, Miss Davenport. Luke and I rode in to see if we could hire some additional men.”

  “And did you find any?” She pushed aside the disappointment at not being the reason for his visit.

  “We were fortunate. Five were at the livery having Brandt check their horses. They’d just ridden in from Idaho and were looking for work. We hired all of them.” He ran a hand down the horse’s withers. “He yours?”

  She threw an affectionate glance at the horse. “This is Old Pete. He belongs to my uncle, but I’m the one who usually rides him. Poor boy threw a shoe. Mr. Brandt took care of him for me.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Uncle Charles told me he and another ex-soldier came to town almost two years ago. Mr. Brandt stayed, but his friend rode on. Restless, I guess.”

  “They fight for the North?”

  “I believe so. I’ve never asked him. All I know is he’s a nice man and does good work. He’s a good choice if your ranch ever needs a blacksmith.”

  Dax looked down, letting his eyes lock on hers as he crossed his arms over his chest. “That so?”

  Rachel cleared her throat at his close scrutiny. “Why, yes. I believe he’d provide excellent work for you.” She glanced away and looked past him toward the main street, spotting King Tolbert and his daughter coming their way. “Have you met King Tolbert yet?”

  Dax’s brows lifted at the sudden change of subject and his body went on alert. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure.”

  She noticed his voice held an edge. “Well, now’s your chance.” She nodded behind him.

  Dax turned to see a man, perhaps ten or fifteen years older than him, driving a buggy, a young woman sitting next to him. He stopped at the livery and jumped out.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Davenport.” He doffed his hat and walked around to help his daughter down.

  “Hello, Mr. Tolbert. I don’t believe you’ve had a chance to meet our newest resident, Dax Pelletier. He and his brother are the new owners of the Hanes ranch.”

  King’s grin fell enough to let Dax know the man hadn’t expected to meet him so soon, and definitely not in the company of Rachel.

  “Pleased to meet you, Tolbert.” Dax extended his hand, which the man accepted.

  “Mr. Pelletier, this is my daughter, Abigail. Abby, this is Mr. Pelletier. He’s part owner of the ranch to the west of us.”

  Abby gave a slight curtsey before looking up into haunting gray eyes and an incredibly handsome face. “Good afternoon, Mr. Pelletier.” Abby inched to one side, glancing behind Dax and into the livery. Her eyes landed on Noah Brandt at the same time her heart rate picked up a beat. She’d met him a few times while in town with her father. Abby knew her father would never approve of her attraction to the town blacksmith, yet she couldn’t help her reaction to the taciturn ex-soldier.

  “It’s a pleasure, Miss Tolbert.” Dax shifted his attention back to Rachel. “You’ll have to excuse me. It’s time I met up with Luke and headed back. Good to see you again, Miss Davenport.” He glanced over at the others. “Good to meet both of you.”

  Abby couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. To her father’s disgust, her wide eyes told it all, except he’d mistaken the object of her fascination. He thought she’d become enamored with the rugged Texas Ranger, never suspecting her true interest lie with the smithy hidden in the shadows.

  “Mr. Pelletier,” King nodded.

>   Feeling bereft, Rachel’s gaze stayed focused on Dax as he crossed the street to the boardinghouse and restaurant. She wanted to run after him and talk further. He was a complicated man. One she wanted to get to know better.

  “Sorry to have missed you at supper the other night, Miss Davenport.”

  His comment brought her attention back to the man in front of her. “I do apologize. Mr. Wilson, at the Pelletier ranch, was shot and needed immediate attention. I didn’t get back to town until late.”

  King noticed she offered no further explanation. But she didn’t need to. Tolbert already knew about the shooting.

  “Your uncle told me there had been an emergency. Perhaps another time?”

  “Yes, perhaps. I never know when someone will come into the clinic seeking our help. I’m glad you understand. Speaking of the clinic, I’d better get Old Pete back into his stable. Uncle Charles won’t eat unless I’m there to remind him. Good day, Mr. Tolbert, Abby.”

  “See you soon, Miss Davenport.”

  Abby listened to the discussion. Being in Philadelphia much of the last several years, she’d paid little attention to her father’s social life, and never wondered if he courted other women. It appeared he did. She glanced once more over her shoulder and into the livery as King escorted her toward the Western Union office a few steps away.

  “Father, do you mind if I wait outside while you send your telegrams? It’s such a nice day.”

  “Of course, Abby. Just stay close. I won’t be long.” The minute the door closed, Abby retraced her steps to the livery. She felt her resolve falter as she got closer and noticed Noah look up, locking his gaze on hers.

  Noah straightened, wiping his blackened hands on his pants, then shoving them in his pockets. “Good afternoon, Miss Abigail.”

  She made a slight nod. “Hello, Mr. Brandt.” Abby looked around the large structure. It sat back a few feet from the main street, the forge placed near the middle and stables in the rear. “Appears you have quite a bit of work.”

  Noah knew his interest in the young woman was foolish. King Tolbert would never allow his daughter to be courted by someone like him—a broken down ex-solider. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Abby whenever she visited. It was enough to be near her, talk to her once in a while. At least, that’s what he told himself.

  “Yes, ma’am. I seem to keep busy.”

  She stood a moment, unsure of what else to say. Thankfully, Noah broke the silence. “When do you return to Philadelphia?”

  “Oh, I haven’t had a chance to tell you. My father has agreed I won’t be going back. I’m staying here to help him with the house.” She cleared her throat and glanced at Noah in a conspiratorial way. “He doesn’t know I learned how to keep the books while back east. My hope is he’ll allow me to help with ranch business.” Her slight blush at confiding something quite important to her touched Noah.

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine at whatever you do, Miss Abigail.”

  “Abby? What are you doing?” Her father’s rough voice startled her and she turned abruptly to see his face harden at seeing her with the blacksmith.

  “I had a question for Mr. Brandt. Daisy has developed a slight limp and I thought he might know of something I could use to wrap her leg.” She cast a worried glance at Noah.

  “Like I said, Miss Abigail, sometimes warm compresses do the trick. If you find comfrey, mash it and include it in the wrap.” His eyes wrinkled at the corners in amusement and his mouth quirked into a small smile.

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Brandt.” She bit her lower lip, then turned back to her father. “Are you ready?”

  King eyed her, looking for signs of any untruth, but found none. He held out his arm to his daughter. “Yes. I still need to stop by the bank.” He looked toward Noah. “Mr. Brandt.”

  “Good day, Mr. Tolbert.”

  “That’s all of them, Ellis.” Bull reined in his horse next to the other cowhand. “I’ll take drag if you and Rude want to ride toward the front. The others can spread out in between.”

  “Wish we had a few more men. At least we don’t have to drive them too far.” Ellis secured his hat and rode to the front of the herd.

  Bull looked around. He’d felt a prickling sensation along his neck a couple of times. He always heeded the warnings his body sent out, knowing from his past that to ignore them was a mistake. Ellis had settled into a spot on the left side of the herd, while Rude rode on the right. Bull’s head snapped up at what seemed to be a flash of light coming from a nearby ridge. He rubbed the dust out of his eyes, blinked a few times, and tried to focus. Seeing nothing, he let his gaze roam across the moving cattle, keeping track of the other men.

  A series of loud cracks sounded from overhead, sending the cattle into a full run. Rude, Ellis, and the other men tried to turn them into each other to slow their progress. Bull kicked his horse, riding full speed to catch Rude and help him reverse the herd’s course. Ellis had reined up and circled around toward the others, firing into the air and yelling at the bawling animals, trying to get them to follow his commands.

  Bull and Rude also fired into the air, getting the reaction they wanted. The lead animals began to turn, the others following, circling around to join the back of the herd. It took time before the cowhands got the cattle settled down. Their success wasn’t a matter of luck as much as an expectation they knew they could control the herd.

  “What the hell happened?” Ellis glared at Bull after he’d pulled down the kerchief covering his face.

  “Gunfire. It came from the ridge a couple miles back.”

  Ellis let out a string of curses. “It’s time we go after that son-of-a-bitch.”

  Like the others, he was certain who ordered the stampeding of their herd. The same person who shot Hank and who’d tried to run Pat off the land for years—King Tolbert. He’d tried this same tactic several times over the years, yet they’d never been able to prove his men had been the ones to do it. Most of the time, they’d stopped the running cattle and recovered any who’d become separated. A couple of times, they’d lost more than a few head, and on one occasion, a wrangler had been injured, breaking a leg and cracking a few ribs.

  Bull nodded, as angry as Ellis at the continued attacks, wanting to hunt down and punish those responsible, but accepting they’d do nothing until the Pelletiers gave the word. He glanced at Rude, who sat astride his horse on the front edge of the herd, drinking from a canteen, and looking in the direction of the gunshots. Bull knew someone had been tipping off Tolbert to their daily routine. He couldn’t believe any of the ranch hands, his friends, would put the others in danger. Still, he planned to be more vigilant.

  “Let’s get the cattle moving and talk to the Pelletiers. With luck, they were able to find more men.” Bull made a slight clucking sound and his horse pulled out, following the cowboy’s subtle commands.

  It took three hours to get the cattle to a large pasture not far from the ranch house. Joe and the new men joined them and helped to split the herd into groups. By dusk, the tired ranch hands slid off their horses and headed for the supper Bernice had set out in the bunkhouse.

  “How’d it go?” Dax asked as he sat alongside Luke on a long bench and grabbed a plate.

  Ellis spoke up. “We’ve got more trouble. Someone tried to scatter the herd, but we got them under control. It had to be Tolbert’s men.”

  “What do you think, Bull?” Luke asked.

  “I agree with Ellis. I saw a flash of light from a ridge not long before the shots rang out. They didn’t aim at us. Their goal seemed to be to spook the cattle, get them out of control, and make us lose a few.” He glanced at Rude. Something about the man’s silence didn’t sit right. “We’re good, though. Still have the same count.”

  Ellis scrubbed a hand over his whiskered jaw. “When we going to go after them, General?”

  The new men glanced up at the mention of the military title. Rude knew his bosses were from the south. Now he also understood at least
one had fought in the war.

  “I met Tolbert in town today. Seems it’s time Luke and I paid him a visit.”

  Luke agreed. “We’ll ride over tomorrow morning.”

  ~~~~~