by J. T. Edson
‘Why sure, Lee.’ Mary Anne gripped the man’s hand in her own, knowing she’d got one friend here who would stand by her. ‘I came as soon as I heard.’
‘Is bad business, Missy. Hands all scared, ready to give up if you not got good man to lead them.’
Mary Anne bit down the flood of tears which welled up inside her as she entered the hall of the house. She stood for a moment just inside, then made her decision. She was going to show the men that a woman could handle the ranch here. Turning on her heel she stepped back out into the night, pausing to speak to Lee Chan, her cook.
‘You got any chow yet, Lee?’
‘Got plenty, knew you’d want it. You always did, Missy.’ The girl managed a smile. Good old Lee Chan. He would stand by her no matter what. She hoped the other men would be the same. Walking across the open space to the bunkhouse she tried to decide what course to adopt. All too well she knew cowhands, knew their ways and habits. This first meeting was vital, for it could make or ruin her chances with the men. She felt the weight of the Merwin & Hulbert revolver thrust in her waistband and wondered if she should take it to the house before going to see the men. She decided against it and walked to the door, listening for a moment to some of the choicer expressions being used inside, smiling, not blushing for she’d used the same expressions herself. She knew better than to open the door and walk in for there was no telling what embarrassing state of undress some of the men might be in.
‘Come in, Lee,’ a voice yelled in answer to her knock. ‘We done got ole Larry tied down.’
Mary Anne knocked again and the door was thrown open. A tall, lithe-looking young man with an untidy thatch of hair glared out. ‘What the hell, Lee—!’ The words died off as he looked at the girl. ‘Gee, I’m sorry, ma’am, I thought it was—’ He paused again and turned to yell a warning to the others to keep their talk clean as there was a lady at the door. ‘I tell you there’s a sure enough lady at the door. So hush down will you. Sorry, ma’am, they don’t mean nothing about it. The house is up there, if you want it, ma’am.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ Mary Anne liked the look of the young man. He was obviously a good cowhand and might make a loyal friend. ‘Likely I knowed it afore you did. I’m Mary Anne Catlan. Your new boss.’
‘You’re Miss Catlan?’ The cowhand’s face showed surprise as he looked at her.
‘So they tell me. My pappy sure spent some money raising the wrong gal if I’m not. Reckon I could talk to the rest of the boys?’
‘Sure, ma’am, just hold it for a minute.’ Stepping back the cowhand yelled a warning that Miss Catlan was here and coming to see them. Waiting until all the other of the eight hands were respectably attired, he opened the door. Entering the bunkhouse Mary Anne found the men all standing around. She studied them with a quick glance. They were all newcomers; not one could she remember from her last time at home. Yet they all looked like they knew the cattle business and they did not look the sort either to panic or be scared off. All they needed was a leader. ‘Then they would stand by her, fight for her if they needed to do so. They were not a hardcase fighting crew, proddy and ready to hunt trouble though.
The bunkhouse showed the usual untidy state, clothes, boots and other gear scattered about in profusion. The table in the centre of the room was littered with old Police Gazettes and mail order catalogues. She shoved them into the centre and sat on the edge, legs swinging as she watched the men. They were giving her some attention and she guessed they liked what they saw.
‘I’m your new boss. The name’s Mary Anne. Who’s been acting as segundo?’
‘I have, ma’am.’
‘Mary Anne,’ the girl corrected the tall young man who’d answered the door and let her in.
‘I am, I reckon, Mary Anne,’ the cowhand answered. ‘I’m Larry Beaumont.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Larry. I’ll get acquainted with the rest of you boys as soon as I’ve fed. Then tomorrow you can take me out to see the range, Larry.’
The young man opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He did not show the eagerness she’d expected. Yet he did not look as if he were a slacker, nor could she see any sign of the range work having been neglected since her father’s death. She looked at the other men. Their faces showed the same thing. There was bad trouble coming on the range and they did not want to be led by a young woman fresh from the East.
The room was silent now and from outside came a sound which took Mary Anne’s attention. The men heard it and exchanged glances, but none of them said a word. Mary Anne ran the tip of her tongue across her lips and wondered what four horses were doing coming to the ranch at this time of the night. She went to the window and tried to pierce the dark and see who was coming.
‘Who is it, Larry?’
‘I don’t know, ma’am. We don’t get many callers out here. There’s been some night riding done, up at Wilmont’s.’
‘All right!’ Mary Anne knew few men would travel at night unless they had a definite purpose. It could not be a good purpose either, not in the present state of affairs.
‘Get your guns! We’ll show ‘em.’ Mary Anne gave the order in a whoop, but the men did not make a move. She read the indecision on each face and knew what was holding them back. They needed a man to lead them. Anger flooded over her and Mary Anne Catlan could work up quite a temper when she was riled. Drawing the revolver from her waistband she hissed, ‘If you’re all scared, I’m not.’
With that she turned and flung herself to the bunkhouse door, tore it open and ran out into the night. Tears were filling her eyes as she ran from the bunkhouse. Through the mist of them she saw three riders, one leading a packhorse, approaching. She brought up the gun and fired a wild shot. The three riders brought their horses to a halt and left the saddles with a speed which showed they were not exactly unused to being shot at. One of them flung himself behind the water-trough while the other two disappeared into the shelter of the blacksmith’s forge. Mary Anne suddenly realised she was exposed to their return fire, standing out in the open.
Inside the bunkhouse the men looked at each other. They heard the shot and Larry yelled, ‘Come on, that gal’s worth fighting for.’ He dived forward, right over his single bunk, collecting the revolver from where it hung holstered on his gunbelt. Landing on his feet he went for the door with the gun in his hand. With a fresh look in their eyes the other men grabbed up their guns and ran for the door, following him.
Mary Anne stood in the dark. She was scared but did not give way to the fear. So far no bullet had been thrown her way but she knew the men were likely to start any time now. Then a voice from the past came floating to her, a voice she could barely recognise for it was both familiar and strange to her.
‘Hey. Rusty gal. You never could shoot wuth a cuss so put up the gun or I’ll get Molly Wilmont to come and take it from you.’
Mary Anne did not hear the bunkhouse door thrown open behind her. She could not believe what she was hearing either. Only the family ever called her Rusty and only one living person ever called her Rusty gal. The gun fell from her hand as she saw a tall man rise from behind the water-trough. For an instant she stood without moving, then ran forward to throw herself at the man.
It was at this moment the ranch crew ran from the bunkhouse ready to defend the girl. They saw Mary Anne running forward and throwing herself at one of the men, bringing him crashing to the ground. One of the cowhands was carrying a lantern and they dashed forward until the scene was lit by it. At the same moment a voice said, ‘Hold it up, gents.’
The cowhands stopped in their tracks. They’d acted without thinking and now were in trouble. A tall, grinning young man came from the shadows of the forge, a Spencer carbine held hip high. Behind him stood a second tall young man holding a Colt. He gave his approval to the course of action his friend laid down.
‘Sure, hold it up, she’s doing all right.’
The cowhands could see what the slim man meant. Mary Anne was kneeling astride
the man, shoving his expensive black stetson hat into his face and gasping out incoherent words. Then with a heave he threw her from him, came up and lifted her as if she were a baby. Turning he walked towards the water-trough and held her over it.
‘No—Waco—no!’ Mary Anne screamed as she saw where she was. ‘Don’t you dare drop me in the—’
The rest ended in a wild shriek and splash as the tall man let the girl fall into the water. The ranch crew prepared to hurl themselves at this man even in the face of the guns the others held. Before they could make a move they saw the girl was sitting up in the water and laughing. The tall, handsome young man who’d thrown her in stepped forward and helped her out again.
‘Rusty gal, you haven’t changed one lil bit,’ he said, then glanced at the other two. ‘All right, put them away. They ain’t going to hurt you none.’
The red-headed cowhand laughed, lowered the hammer of his Spencer carbine and walked to where his horse stood. The big claybank stallion snorted and he avoided the nipping teeth, then slid the carbine into his saddleboot. The lantern light showed the brand the horse carried to the interested gaze of the watching cowhands. It was made of two letters, an O and a D, the straight edge of the D touching the side of the O. The cowhands read the brand correctly and eyed this redhead with more interest.
Mary Anne climbed from the water-trough and, laughing still, threw her arms around the man who had put her there, kissing him. She held on to him for a moment then he gently moved her back, smiling down at her and looking her over.
‘Rusty gal,’ he finally said. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get here afore this. These are my pards, Red Blaze and Doc Leroy.’
Talk rumbled up among the cowhands at the names for both were well-known. Red Blaze was known as a tophand with cattle, as a better than fair hossbuster and as wild a yahoo as ever helped tree a trailend town at the end of a drive. Doc Leroy’s name was also known as a tophand. People also spoke of his medical skill; of how he treated the gunshot wounds, set the broken bones and pulled the teeth of the cowhands of the Wedge trail-drive crew, and how he removed a man’s appendix with the aid of that most scientific of surgical instruments, a bowie knife, by the light of a lantern, out in the open air just north of the Salt Fork of the Brazos River.
Waco himself was not so well known to the cowhands, although in the time he’d been riding for Ole Devil’s floating outfit he’d become known as a good man with cattle, or a gun.
Right now Waco was holding the girl’s shoulders gently in his powerful hands, looking down at her face. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here when Pappy got his. I came as soon as I heard.’
‘I know, boy.’ Mary Anne winced as the fingers tightened on her shoulders. Then he released her and a mischievous grin flickered across her face. She moved back slightly, walking around him, looking him all over and halting so he stood between her and the water trough. ‘I do declare you haven’t growed a single inch. Just stand there and let me take a good look.’
Waco stood, his face impassive and showing nothing of his thoughts as the girl moved closer as if to make her comparison. Then suddenly she lunged forward with hands shooting out to push hard. At the last instant, Waco swayed aside and carried by her impetus she shot by him. She felt his hand catch the seat of her pants and gave a howl of rage as she was dumped head first into the water once more. She came out of it using some choice expressions which would have shocked Mrs. Dupre, principal of the school for young ladies she’d so recently attended.
‘You tried that fool trick on me afore this,’ Waco reminded her.
Climbing out Mary Anne laughed, standing hands on hips and throwing back her head. She could see the cowhands watching her and saw the difference in their faces now. Then she turned and held out a hand to Red and Doc, shaking with a firm grip. ‘Thanks for coming and taking care of the boy. Thanks for coming out to help me, boys. Now I’m going up to the house to get changed. You got me all wet, Waco.’
‘You always was, Rusty gal.’ Waco gripped the girl’s arm and they headed for the house.
Lee Chan stood at the door of the house staring at the girl as she came on to the porch, dripping water at every step. ‘What happened, Missy Mary Anne?’
‘I fell in the water-trough,’ Mary Anne replied, grinning. ‘Get a meal going at the chucksack, I’ll be down when I’m changed. Make up three more beds here, Waco and his pards will be living at the house.’
‘We can bunk down at the hawgpen with the crew if you like,’ Waco told the girl.
‘I don’t like. You’ll stay here at the house, all three of you. Where are you going now?’
‘Put up the hosses.’
‘Pleased to see me again?’
‘Sure, real pleased, gal.’
‘Pleased enough to hay down my dun for me?’ Mary Anne asked innocently.
‘That pleased I’ll never be,’ Waco answered grinning. ‘All right, I’ll do it. But I won’t like it.’
‘I never knew you to like anything that spelled work.’ Mary Anne headed for the bedroom before Waco had a chance to answer this last remark.
By the time Waco returned with his two friends and their duffle, the girl was changed into dry clothes and a pair of Kiowa moccasins.
She showed them to their rooms and then escorted them to the bunkhouse. The ranch crew were at the table when the girl came in with Waco, Red and Doc. Larry Beaumont pushed back his chair and went to the girl, drawing the chair at the head of the table back for her. She took her seat and looked at the men. Larry resumed his seat again and glanced at the three newcomers.
‘You staying on here, Waco?’
‘For a spell. If Rusty gal here’ll have me.’
Mary Anne looked up, grinning. ‘I’ve got enough trouble on my hands right now without that. looks like I’m stuck with you though so I’ll have to put up with it.’
‘Why thank you most to death,’ Waco replied. ‘I can surely see you haven’t changed a little mite.’
‘You’ll take over as segundo for a spell, Red,’ Mary Anne ignored Waco. ‘The boy’s too young yet.’
The ranch crew, even Larry agreed with the girl’s choice of foreman. Red knew the cattle business well, knew how to handle men. If it came to trouble he would be best able to deal with it. The atmosphere at the table was different now, laughter rose and talk welled up in the way it always did with a happy crew led by a strong man. There was a new light in every face, and Mary Anne felt better.
With the meal over, Waco and the rest sat around smoking and talking. The girl watched this young man she’d always regarded as her little brother, seeing how he’d matured. She liked what she saw. Here was no proddy rider for a hard outfit but a man wise in the ways of the west, a fighting man yet not one who would start a fight. There was a Look about him now that she liked. She was proud to see her little brother in such good company.
Waco found himself by Larry and asked, ‘Where did it happen?’
‘You know that deep hole down on the Ranse?’ Larry was not sure just how this tough young man figured, but guessed he knew Mary Anne more than just casually. ‘It was there, Sunshine Sam and the boys went up to try and catch the big old bass there. You know the one I mean, Mary Anne?’
‘Sure, ole Mossyhorn. He was there when you left home, boy. Biggest bass 1 ever saw.’
‘Yeah. I remember him. He wasn’t so big.’
‘Bet you’ve never seen his beat,’ Larry remarked, his eyes on Mary Anne all the time.
‘Caught one bigger,’ Waco replied, spreading his hands about a foot apart. ‘He was that big.’
‘That’s not big for a bass,’ Mary Anne snorted.
‘That was the width between his eyes.’
There was a laugh at this from the men. They were looking at Waco with fresh respect now. They’d thought he was a fast gun and now they could see he was also a real friendly young gent. Red Blaze was also watching Mary Anne and guessed she was not wanting to talk about her father’s death just at the moment. He
decided it was time to change the subject and this sounded like a good time to do it.
‘Ole Waco here got caught one time. We was in Langtry visiting Uncle Roy and we saw this hombre sitting fishing. Looking real unusual.’
‘What’s unusual about a man fishing?’ Mary Anne asked without thinking and knew she’d let herself in a trap.
‘He was fishing in a wooden bucket. So ole Waco here goes up and says, “Caught any?” and the feller says—’
‘You’re the fourth.’ Mary Anne finished for him.
‘Wrong, he said you’re the fifth.’
Waco grinned amiably and started to spin a windy about catching a walleye the length of his arm. Others of the crew took it up, vying with each to spin the biggest fishing lie. The room sounded as it always used to in the old days when Sunshine Sam sat at the head of the board and kept the hands amused with his stories. Laughter rang out and the ranch crew looked more like cowhands.
Sitting back Waco watched the men. He approved of Mary Anne putting Red in command as segundo. That would leave him more free to make his investigation into the death of his adopted father and brothers. Right now though, there was no need for talk about it. There would be time to start in the morning.
Red suddenly stopped telling what amounted to the best biggest lie of the evening. He frowned and listened. The others also fell silent wondering what brought about this change in him. He came to his feet and went to the window. ‘Douse the lights!’ His voice showed the urgency of the matter. ‘We got callers coming.’
The cowhands heard the sound then. Faintly, but growing louder at every minute, came the rumble of many hooves. Not one of the cowhands spoke but there was a difference in their silence now. They’d been worried and uncertain, now they were ready, willing and only waiting for orders. Mary Anne blew out the lamp on the table and Larry, hands slapping his gunless side, doused the other light.