The Big Country

by Donald Hamilton

  Patricia flushed. “Men don’t like to have women interfering-"

  “Well, heaven knows I’d never let my fiance or husband get on an outlaw horse without knowing it, whether he liked it or not!”

  “Well, anyway, he didn’t ride Old Thunder, unless-” A startled look came to her face. She glanced at Julie, then turned and ran out of the room. Julie followed more slowly.

  She heard Patricia, outside, shout, “Steve, Steve, “Where's Ramon?”

  The foreman’s voice said, “Ramon? Why, he's down In the bunkhouse, I reckon. You want to see him about something?”

  "Why else would I ask?"

  “I’ll get him for you. You wait right there, ma am, you’ll ruin your shoes if you-"

  “Just get him, Steve. The men are your concern. My shoes are my own.” She giggled abruptly as Julie came up. The two girls walked slowly around the house. Patricia said, “Serves him right for having such big ears. He’s worried now. Maybe I will fire him. My knight of the range!” She laughed shortly. “He’s been stalking me like a wolf ever since I was old enough to put my hair up. It was a terrible shock to Steve Leech, the day I came back from the east and announced my engagement. I laughed in his face. I couldn’t help it. It was the first time I’d seen him Without a gallant word to say, the big hypocrite. The way he let that man, Brownie, fumble around for his gun for a full five seconds before putting him out of his misery-, He did it to impress me, of course, because I was standing there. Well, I know what he wants, and I can handle him, don’t think I can t. I know all about men like Steve Leech. He doesn’t worry me one little bit, and I declare it’s kind of nice to have a man around Who-Who'll do things for you-”

  She checked herself, and came to a stop by the corral, as two figures approached from the bunkhouse. The lean shape of Steve Leech made a sharp contrast to the blocky silhouette of the old Mexican rider. Ramon took off his hat as he came up to Patricia, but his glance went beyond her to Julie, and his face lighted up.

  “Why, it’s the little Señorita!” he cried. “Señorita Maragon. You remember me, Ramon Gutierrez, who used to ride for your grandfather?”

  “Don’t be silly, Ramon,” Julie said, taking the old man's hand. “Of course I remember. It’s been a long-”

  “This is very touching,” Patricia said. “May I just, ask a question, and then you can spend the night talking over old times. Ramon, has anybody ridden Old Thunder lately? The old man scratched his head thoughtfully. "I think that new fellow that was hired last week gave it a try, Señorita Terrill. That was five-six days ago.”

  "Nobody else?”

  "Ramon shook his head. “I do not think so.”

  Patricia looked at her companion triumphantly. “You see, Julie?”

  "Uh-huh,” the smaller girl said, “I see.” She looked at Ramon. “Mr. McKay swore you to secrecy, of course. What reason did he give?”

  “Why, he said-” The old man stopped. “That was not fair, Señorita!” he cried reproachfully.

  “I’m sorry, Ramon. But we have to know. He did ride the horse, didn’t he?”

  “Si, he ride him. That is one stubborn man, Señorita.” The old Mexican’s eyes touched Steve Leech and came back to the girl. “I would not want that man for my enemy. Dias, no! He climb, on the horse and it throw him off. He climb on again and it throw him off again. He keep climbing on that horse and it keep throwing him off. Five times. Ten times. Maybe twenty times. What can you do with a man like that? Old Thunder, he give up and walk around the corral like an old gentle burro, tired out from throwing this man off. I say, the Señorita would be pleased to know, Señor. He say, I did not do it for the Señorita or for anybody else. He say, damn if I know why I did do it. He say, we will not tell, Ramon, it is our secret. Get me another horse and some food. I wish to go for a ride.” Ramon spread his hands helplessly. “After that beating, he goes for a ride! so I give him my pony, which is surefooted and will not fall with him in the bad places of which he has no experience, being new to the country. A man like that should be preserved."

  Julie did not look at the taller girl. She said, Thank you,

  Ramon. We’ll have to meet soon and talk over-"

  There was a rustle of movement, the whistling sound of a strap cutting the air, and the sharp crack as it struck home. Ramon took a step backward, putting his hand to his cheek.

  “That’s for letting me make a fool of myself!” Patricia cried shrilly.

  Ramon’s hand dropped to the hilt of the knife at his belt.

  Off to one side, Julie was aware, Steve Leech crouched slightly. Ramon let his hand fall, gave a stiff little bow turned on his heel, and walked away. Patricia looked at the bridle she had snatched from the corral fence, laughed sharply, and tossed it at Steve Leech.

  “Tell the boys not to leave their equipment lying around,” she said. “It makes the place look trashy.”

  She walked quickly toward the house, a white figure in the darkness. Halfway, she began to run. Julie, following more slowly, found her standing by the table in the living room with a goblet in her hand. When She turned, the color in her cheeks indicated that She had taken a stiff drink and was feeling the effect of it already.

  “Don’t come in here if you’re going to lecture me, Julie!"

  “It’s not smart to use the whip too hard,” Julie said. “And I don’t mean just Ramon. You’re pretty drunk, Pat. Hadn’t you better let me help you to bed before I go?”

  Patricia nursed the goblet in both hands. She seemed not to have heard. She said, in a bewildered way, “I don’t understand, Julie. I simply don’t understand. If Jim was going to ride the brute, why didn’t he ride it when-when it meant something?”

  “Why, I think I can guess,” the smaller girl said slowly. “Your Mr. McKay is a man who, for some reason, is terribly afraid of only one thing in the world, and that is that someday, somehow, he’s going to slip and let himself be influenced just a tiny bit by what people think of him. That, of course, is why he arrived here in that ridiculous hat. Why would an intelligent man come here wearing that he must know is going to present a challenge to every cowboy in the country? Mr. McKay is doing penance, don't you see? Why, I don’t know. Mr. McKay has got the shoulders of a fighter and the jaw of a fighter, and I’m willing to bet he's split his knuckles on many a sailor's skull when he considered the reason adequate. But Mr. McKay goes around asking people please to knock his silly hat off his head so that he can pick it up and dust it off and say thank you very much. He offered no resistance to Buck Hannesey, he refused to fight Steve Leech. These were men, Pat, and he's dealt with men before. He’s got no doubt about his ability to handle men if a real need arises. But when it comes to a horse, now, a mean horse, well, that’s something new to our Mr. McKay. He can’t ride it publicly, of course. Somebody might think he was showing off. So he goes off and does it in private, just to satisfy himself that he can do it, and swears the only witness to secrecy. He’s obviously a man who’s told himself grimly that he’s going to make no concession to appearances at all, no matter what the cost may be. I think-I think something terrible must have happened to make him feel this way.”

  Patricia’s face was flushed and angry. “But if he loves me, why would he let me think-”

  Julie said, mores sharply than she had intended, “If you love him, why would you think it? How many times does a man have to win you, anyway?”

  The taller girl drew an exasperated breath. Her voice was shrill, “Well, I think it’s a downright deceitful way of acting, and I’m glad he’s gone, and I wish you’d go too if you can’t think of anything better to do than criticize me.”

  Julie said quietly, “Pat, you’re a fool. The man loves you; he has no thought in mind but to make you happy. He could have married you back east, from what I’ve heard, but he wanted you to be sure you weren’t making a mistake. He’s willing to move his whole life out here for you. While you were blaming him for getting himself lost, he was buying Big Muddy for you! And inste
ad of trying to understand him, you throw all of this away because he won’t put on a circus for you whenever you want one!”

  Her voice choked up with an anger that surprised her, and she turned sharply away and hurried out of the house, not looking back when she heard her name called behind her. She found her horse, climbed into the awkward saddle Somehow, and rode away at a dead run. Not until she was clear of the ranch and mounting the gentle slope to the east, did she rein in. Some instinct forced her to look back. The house was almost dark now, but lights still burned in the central portion, and as she watched, the door opened. Even at the distance, the slender figure silhouetted against the lamplight looked a little mussed and unsteady. It stood there for almost a full minute, waiting, before it was joined by a tall male figure that doffed its hat, politely, before entering the house. Then the door closed.

  Julie shivered slightly. It seemed to her suddenly that her world had become a dark and sordid place. She felt lonely and homeless. Big Muddy was gone. All that was left to her of those childhood memories was some money and a draft on a Fort Worth bank. And of the bright memories of Ladder, the shining castle of her dreams, that she had sacrificed a great deal to keep intact, there was left only a drunken old man snoring on his bed and an ugly mental image it was better to erase.

  The decision came to her quite suddenly, and she kicked the horse into motion and swung off the road to the left, heading up through the hills at a fast trot. Poor Ben, she thought, he won’t know what to make of my coming to him like this, but I’ve got to tell him tonight, before I change my mind.

  Chapter 15

  AWAKENING IN HER OWN BED, Patricia Terrill was instantly conscious of the smell of tobacco smoke in the room. Well, really! she thought, it’s bad enough for Dad to smoke those filthy cigars in the living room, but when he starts smelling up the whole house...! Then she became aware of the throbbing ache of her head, and of the fact that, under the bedclothes, she was quite naked.

  She sat up in sudden panic, unclear memories of the night surging through her mind like fragments of a dream-a nightmare, rather, she told herself sharply. The man at the window turned lazily to look at her.

  "Feeling better, Patsy?” he drawled. “You know. I’ve been waiting for years to call you that and watch you get mad. You’re real pretty when you’re mad-when you’re drunk too. Don’t know as I’ve ever seen a prettier drunk.” He chuckled.

  She found her voice. “You fool!” she whispered. “Put out that cigarette, if the servants smell smoke in my room-”

  Steve Leech chuckled again. “I reckon I don’t have to worry about you. Not if your first thought’s for the servants.”

  He struck a match, the burst of light was like an explosion. She drew up the sheet to cover herself as he leaned forward to light the lamp on the near-by table. She watched him straighten up, he was neatly dressed in his working clothes. Something made him seem more lithe and graceful than usual, and she decided it was the absence of the heavy gun. The weapon lay on the table under the lamp with the cartridge belt coiled around it. His hat lay beside it. She watched him unblinkingly, her head throbbing. She hated him for not having this pain to bear, and for his further advantage of being fully dressed while she had to cower there naked, with her hair half unpinned and falling into her eyes and giving her, no doubt, a ridiculous and dissipated look.

  “Where-” Her mouth was dry, she had to lick her lips to form the words. “What happened to my-, How did I get in bed like this?”

  “Why, I put you to bed afterwards, Patsy,” Steve Leech said, smiling down at her. He shook his head. “The things women wear, it’s a wonder how they get around at all. Took me half an hour to figure out all the cinches and latigos, at that I had to use a knife on some of them.”

  She had been aware, of course, of what had happened between them almost from the first moment of awakening, but the full meaning of it had not struck her until then. She stared up into his smiling, assured face for a moment, then, heedless of her nakedness, she flung the covers aside, jumped out of bed, and darted across the room. The butt of the big revolver was cold to her touch, the weapon slid. smoothly from the well-worn holster. Every second she expected to feel the hard impact of his body knocking her aside, the cruel grip of his fingers pulling her back, but nothing happened. Oddly disappointed, she swung around with the weapon level to see him still standing by the bed with the cigarette between his fingers.

  He grinned. “You know, better than that, Patsy. You’ve got to cock the piece to kill me.”

  She glared at him furiously, and her thumb found the hammer and started it back. Then she sighed and laid the pistol on the table and walked to the wardobe, where she round a robe, which she threw about her and belted with a jerk without caring that the garment was not fully closed down the front, after all, the gloating scoundrel had had plenty of opportunity to look his fill. Although she tried not to admit it to herself, there was a heady excitement to having him in the room with her in this illicit and intimate fashion. She walked back to the bed.

  "Let me taste that," she said.

  "What? The cigarette? Why, sure, honey.”

  He put it to her lips. She sucked the smoke and coughed it out. “I declare, I don’t see why you men make such a fuss about the nasty things.”

  He laughed and flicked the cigarette out the open window and drew her to him and kissed her roughly enough to hurt. It was a far different experience from any kiss she had received from Jim McKay, who had always been very careful of her.

  “I’ve waited a long time for this,” Steve breathed. “But it was worth it, We’re going to make a hell of a team, Patsy- we’re going to take this damn country and roll it up like a rug and spread it out for just the two of us to walk on,” He looked down at her, and the expression in his pale blue eyes frightened her a little, this was a man she did not know. “Your ranch and my gun, honey, they can’t beat that combination! Your Dad likes me, he’ll be tickled to have us married...” She said, “Steve, it’s customary to ask the lady."’

  He laughed at her. “Honey, I did ask, and you couldn't your dress off.” He grinned at her angry face, and patted her in a place where no one had laid a hand since she was a fairly small girl. “Come on, honey, don’t look like that!”

  She drew away and said coolly, “Before we get married, my friend, you’ll have to forget some of your vulgar habits.”

  His hand came up very quickly. The blow was hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. She put her hand to her stinging cheek and stared at him incredulously.

  He said sharply, “This isn’t your tame dude, honey, this is Steve Leech! Don’t try to teach me manners!”

  The jolt had set her head to aching. She waited for the furious anger she had every right to expect, but it did not come. She realized suddenly that she was afraid of this tall man with the pale eyes and the hard hand. She sat down humbly on the bed, looking up at him.

  “That’s better,” he said. “Now, there’s one important thing to take care of before we let anybody know about us. We need Big Muddy, honey, and if the Maragon girl’s finally gone and sold it, like she said, there’s only one way we can get it...”

  Chapter 16

  SITTING AT BEN RAINIER’S TABLE with a steaming mug of coffee in front of her and a cold biscuit in her hand, Julie Maragon looked around the small cabin with its stove, crude bunks, and clumsy, if neat, masculine furnishings, and thought, I might have come here to live! Already this was in the past. She had come seeking certainty and security, and she had found, instead, a dubious riddle. The answer was not yet clear, but it could hardly be pleasant. A man had a right to choose his friends, but he had no right to conceal who they were, and this, obviously, was just what Ben Rainier, for all his air of boyish simplicity, must have been doing for some time, perhaps ever since his arrival in the country three years ago.

  Rufus Hannesey spoke from across the table, startling her. "You'd make a good poker player."

  “I am a good poker pl
ayer, Mr. Hannesey,” she said calmly.

  “You know my name?”

  She laughed at him. “Most people do around here.” she jerked her head toward Buck Hannesey, lounging against the wall behind her with his hand resting idly on his holstered pistol, not as if he were preparing to go into action but simply as if his hand were more comfortable there than anywhere else. “Anyway, I know his name," she said dryly, “and there’s a certain family resemblance.”

  Hannesey started to speak, but checked himself as Ben Rainier’s heavy footstep sounded outside. Coming into the cabin, the blond giant forgot to duck for the low doorway and caught his head a solid blow. He straightened up inside, rubbing the injured spot, and glanced at Julie.

  “You’d think a man Who’d cracked his skull on every lintel south of Mason and Dixon’s line would have sense enough to build his own door high enough,” he said ruefully.

  Hannesey asked, “You took care of her horse?”

  “It’s in the corral with the others,” Ben said. “If anybody gets close enough to read the brand, he’s too close already.”

  “And you got that sidesaddle out of sight, I hope.”

  “Yes, Mr. Hannesey.”

  Julie said, “I’m a prisoner, then?” None of the three men answered her. She looked at the blond giant by the door. “Am I your prisoner, Ben, or theirs?”

  He flushed and did not answer. It was Buck Hannesey who spoke, “Ours.”

  The older Hannesey said, “You see, girl, Ben misspoke himself just now, that’s not his door he, cracked his head on, but mine. Oh, he put it up, but my money paid for it, for everything else that’s on this place, including Ben himself, and he came high. It takes money to spring a man from jail. I got him out and had him sent out here to me Where he’d be safe from the law, just because he happened to be the son of my first wife’s sister and she wrote asking for help. But when I saw the honest look on his face, and his blushing like a girl, I knew I’d made a good investment. He was just what I’d been looking for. There aren’t many men who could have moved in up here back of Ladder without somebody getting suspicious, but Ben did fine.”