The Big Country
Page 17
McKay urged his horse forward, crowding Leech's mount. The same pride worked in all these men, the higher they stood, the stronger it was. Leech hesitated-no fool, he doubtless realized that this fight was a calculated distraction -but a murmur came from his crew at the delay, and he reached down quickly, freed the thong that held his holster to his thigh, unbuckled the heavy belt, and hung belt and gun over the saddle horn. He dismounted, and McKay followed suit, and Leech was at him with a rush.
It took little time. The man could not box, and as Ramon had once hinted, he was careful of his hands. This told against his punches and canceled in part the advantage of his greater height and reach, but he was saddle tough and stubbornly unwilling, to admit even the possibility of defeat. He knocked McKay down twice in the early stages of the fight, but he did not like being hit in the face, and when he raised his guard to protect himself there, he left his vital organs open to attack. Then it was over, and McKay stood breathing heavily, waiting to make sure the beaten figure on the ground could not rise again. he watched Patricia run forward and go to her knees in the dust. Presently she raised her eyes, instead of the hatred he had expected they held an odd satisfaction. After a moment he understood; the defeat would make Leech easier for her to handle.
He said, "Don't let him come after me with a gun, Pat. I have no pride about such things. I'll merely have him jailed."
She shook her head quickly. "He won't bother you, I promise. We'll be going away somewhere. Good-by, Jim."
McKay turned slowly away, and almost bumped into a Ladder cowboy standing there, holding the dark bowler hat. McKay had tossed aside. The man used his sleeve to dust it off carefully, and held it out.
"Here's your hat, Mr. McKay," he said, and McKay could see no amusement in his eyes or those of the other men, as he set the hard hat squarely on his head. He remembered that he had once thought of it as a symbol and that, reflected wryly that it was obviously still a symbol and that, probably have to wear the damn derby the rest of his days.
Well, it was a small price to pay...
Chapter 27
IT WAS ALMOST DARK when they reached San Rafael, and stopped at the house with the white gate. McKay dismounted and helped Julie to the ground. They were alone, the men had headed for the ranch, where McKay would meet them the following day with a wagon-load of supplies and equipment.
"Come in," Julie said "I'll make some dinner."
He smiled briefly. "Every time we meet, you feed me."
She looked at him, and touched her own bruised eye, and laughed. "We make a disreputable couple, Jim." After a moment, she said, "I hate to remind you of unpleasant things, but those beautiful pistols should be cleaned before the fouling corrodes them. If you'll bring them into the kitchen, I'll get some water hot for you."
He nodded, got the mahogany case, and followed her into the house. She lighted the lamp, and he put the case on the kitchen table and opened it. She went to the stove.
"I still don't quite understand," she said. "I don't understand how Mr. Hannesey could.... Her voice died.
"The son was no good," McKay said. "He was a killer at heart, and Hannesey knew it. This was bound to be the end for him somewhere, why not here and now, quick and clean? And then, of course, it was a matter of honor." A faint bitterness came into his voice. "I lived with honor a long time, Julie, I know all about honor. I can very easily understand how a man could kill a son who dishonored the family name. My own father would have done it without question, I'm quite sure." Julie had turned at the stove to look at him. He went on, evenly, "Honor was an important word in our house when I was a boy. So important that my mother cringed, as if at a blow, when it was spoken. So important-" He picked up the pistol marked 2 and looked at it. "-So important that my father died with this weapon in his hand over an insult the exact nature of which no one could remember later."
Julie said softly, "I see."
McKay said, "You understand, we loved him. Please don't think otherwise. That's what made it so hard to bear. He was a fine man, a good husband and a good father, but he had this one quirk about his honor. I think it was a sicksness in him. It somebody accidentally elbowed him in a crowd, stepped on his toe, spilled a drink, or spoke or even looked at him in a way he considered offensive, my father had to have satisfaction. It went on for years, and after he killed a man, there was always the shadow of the law over us, too-dueling isn't officially tolerated in Maryland. Finally he was killed. My mother died shortly thereafter, she had lived with terror too long. I promised myself that I would never in my life lift so much as a finger for the sake of pride or honor." He grimaced. "This is a hard country in which to keep that promise, Julie. I can't help feeling that I've failed a little."
She shook her head quickly. "There are times when a man must fight, has a right to fight, you know that. You'll find it easier, now that people know you. But were you quite fair to Pat, not to tell her why you had to act the way you did?"
He looked at her across the kitchen and asked, "Would you have needed to be told, Julie?"
She did not answer. It was quite dark outside now, and the lamplight made the house seem warm and friendly and homelike after the places he had seal. She was watching him in the grave and measuring way she had, still in her old riding skirt and the perversely flattering boy's shirt. Her hair had been loosened and softened by the long ride, it made a gentle dark frame around her face.
He asked, "Why didn't you save yourself by telling Rufus Hannesey you'd sold Big Muddy to me? What made you keep quiet?" She made no response, and he said, "There'll be a great deal of work to be done at the ranch. There'll be a lot for me to learn. I'd like to be able to come here and ask your advice." He hesitated. "It's very soon to speak of anything else."
At this she smiled slowly. have nothing to do with pride or honor, Jim? Six months from now they'll still say I caught you on the rebound, and we have wasted all that time."
He laughed suddenly, and laid the dueling back in its case, and went to her.