High Desert Cowboy (High Sierra Book 2)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  “We’ll get them down to the river then run a sweep for any of them still missing,” Dusty told her. “Some will mosey in on their own account. We’ll get most of them back.”

  She sighed with relief but she could see it in his eyes. Even if they retrieved most of the missing cattle, it would still not be enough.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dusty took a deep breath as he and the others pushed the herd into the stockyard’s feedlot. Tom reached down from the back of his horse and walked the gate closed behind the last one.

  They had done it, Dusty thought. Gotten the herd in. Or at least most of them. With two days to spare. Peabody wouldn’t have some banker trick up his sleeve. Deep down, that had been Dusty’s biggest fear. That they’d get held up along the way and not make it in time. Or so close that the banker would pull a quick one.

  Well, that worry could be put aside, he thought with a satisfying sigh.

  Turning Red, he smiled at Jack and Sam.

  “Now comes the interesting part,” Jack said as he removed his hat to wipe his brow and nodded over at the man with his foot on the bottom rail of the corral examining the herd.

  Dusty swallowed hard as he joined Rebecca and Jack to walk over to the owner of the stockyard. Glancing at his boss, Dusty saw the worry in her eyes. The woman was dressed in a dusty drab brown riding habit and wore Tom’s battered hat, yet she looked all woman. Beautiful, graceful, and determined.

  This was the moment. Would she hold onto her ranch or not? He’d been through a lot of things but nothing had ever ate at his gut like this.

  “I count sixty-eight LV,” the man said to Jack then glanced at Dusty before adding, “and a hundred-eighty-three for the C-Bar.”

  “That’s what we counted,” Rebecca said as she held out her hand. “I’m Rebecca Carlson, owner of the C-Bar.”

  “Jim Prescott,” he said taking her hand while he glanced at Dusty. The man was confused, obviously not used to dealing with women when it came to the buying and selling of stock.

  “They’re prime beef,” she said as she turned to look at her herd.

  Prescott didn’t answer, obviously unwilling to give any credit that might mean an increase in price. He’d been doing this too long to ever make such a mistake.

  Instead, he shrugged his shoulders. “Shame you didn’t bring them in a week earlier. The first herd always gets a better price.”

  Dusty’s stomach fell as he saw Rebecca turn white. They had been counting on being first.

  “Who brought in a herd?” Jack asked.

  “Tad Johnson, the Ladder S.”

  Dusty cursed under his breath. The rancher was determined to drive them under. “You sure they were all Ladder S brands?”

  Prescott scowled, obviously upset. “They were Ladder S when I bought them. Before that. Who knows?”

  Dusty held the man’s stare. It was only because of men like this that scum like Johnson got away with it.

  “Regardless,” Rebecca interjected. “What are you offering for these.”

  Prescott sighed heavily then turned to look out over the mingling steers and odd cow. His face contorted into a dozen different expressions before he took a deep breath and quoted a price.

  Dusty felt like he’d been kicked in the gut by an angry mule. Rebecca’s eyes opened wide in shock. It was barely half of what she needed.

  “You can do better,” Dusty said then spit into the dirt to emphasize his point.

  Prescott slowly shook his head. “Sold that other herd local. Jenkins the butcher and the rest out to Virginia City. Those miners do like their beef. These I’ll have to ship all the way to Chicago. That eats into my profits.”

  Dusty ground his teeth. “You can do better,” he said again.

  Prescott looked out over the herd then back at Rebecca. He took a deep breath and raised his offer just a little. “And that’s the best I can do. If you don’t want it. Then take your stock out of my pens.”

  Rebecca swallowed hard before looking at Dusty. He shrugged. This was her call. The price was within the normal range. It really did come down to a supply issue.

  She turned to Jack and raised an eyebrow. “A good portion are yours. Are you going to take this offer?”

  Jack took a deep breath. “It’s pretty close to what I expected. But it’s your call. I won’t sell them here if you don’t.”

  She bit her lip as she turned away to look back towards the mountains and towards her ranch. Dusty could tell what was racing through her mind. They had failed. Her brother’s dream would die an ugly death.

  Dusty fought to hold back a rising anger. The look of loss and pain in her eyes tore at him.

  “Maybe Mr. Peabody will allow for the same plan as with John,” Rebecca said.

  “It shouldn’t even be an issue,” Jack said with a head shake.

  “If he don’t, I’ll make him,” Dusty said as his hands clenched into fists. Rebecca placed a hand on his arm and shook her head at him like a scolding schoolmarm.

  She turned to Mr. Prescott and nodded. “I will take your offer.”

  Prescott nodded then indicated they should follow him into his office to finish the arrangement.

  Once the bill of sale had been signed and the money counted out. Rebecca turned to Jack Tanner and smiled.

  “Thank you for your help, Jack,” she said. “Please give Jenny my best.”

  “This ain’t over,” Dusty said through gritted teeth. He refused to let this woman’s dreams die.

  She took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “Yes, it is,” she said to him as she fought to hold back a tear. He could see it in her misty eyes. She was done. She wanted to stop fighting. Everything that had gone wrong in her life. It was just too much.

  The pain in her eyes ripped him apart. But he could see it. He was just making things worse for her. Sighing heavily, he nodded.

  “Let’s go pay Sam and Tom. Heaven knows they deserve it. Then it’s off to Mr. Peabody.”

  Dusty nodded his acceptance.

  Rebecca was out the door before either could open it for her.

  “Mind if I tag along,” Jack asked Dusty.

  He glanced at his friend and shrugged. All he knew was that if he didn’t hurry, she’d leave him behind.

  When they stepped out, Rebecca was counting out money into Sam’s hand. The dark-skinned cowboy frowned as he shook his head.

  “It ain’t right,” he said to her. “What the bankers are doing to you.”

  She gave him a wan smile then counted out an extra two gold pieces. “Your bonus,” she said as she patted him on the shoulder. “And yours too, Tom,” she added as she passed along the double eagles.

  The young cowboy’s eyebrows rose halfway to his hat brim.

  “I want you to go back to the Ranch,” Dusty told Tom.

  “But…” the boy stuttered.

  “I need you to check on Consuela,” Dusty told him “And I don’t need you wasting your pay the first night.”

  Sam clapped him on the back. “I’ll go with you boy. They won’t take my money in this town. At least not where I want to spend it.”

  Tom reluctantly nodded. Dusty stood next to Rebecca and watched the two cowboys ride away with the spare horses.

  “I am going to miss them,” Rebecca said with a sniffle.

  Dusty bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from showing any emotion. Taking a deep breath, he held out a hand to help her up on the boardwalk.

  She gave him a quick smile, “I haven’t paid you yet.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t save your ranch.

  She stopped in her tracks and stared at him. “No man could have done more. I will never forget all you have done for me.”

  He swallowed hard as he stared down at her. The look in her eyes was trying to tell him something. But he had never been able to read women. Especially not a woman like Rebecca Carson.

  “If I was you, Rebecca,” Jack said, interrupting their long look. “I wouldn’t
give Peabody a nickel unless he agrees to an extension. You’re going to need that money. This is a hard land on a woman without funds.”

  She slowly shook her head. “It was John’s debt. That money goes to the bank.”

  Dusty took a deep breath, he thought she was crazy but he wasn’t going to argue. It seemed like she was set in her ways.

  Rebecca gave them both a quick smile and said, “let’s get this over with.” Then turned and started for the bank, her heels echoing off the boardwalk.

  His stomach turned over when he thought of what he was going to lose. Things were different in his mind. There was no urge to wander off. No need to see what was over the next ridge. All he could think about was this woman walking away from him forever.

  As they prepared to cross the street to the bank, Dusty looked up and froze. Tad Johnson and Peabody the banker were standing outside the bank, obviously waiting for them. The smirk on Johnson's face made him want to pound the man into the ground like a fence post. To top it off, Jacob Palmer, the former C-Bar hand was standing to the side of Johnson like a Pinkerton guard.

  So, the man had joined the Ladder S, Dusty realized. It just confirmed all of his suspicions.

  Rebecca glanced behind her at the butcher shop and shook her head, “I’ve been in these clothes so long I can’t even smell a butcher shop.”

  Dusty knew she was trying to break the tension and possibly delaying just a bit. It was then that it hit him. Butcher’s shop.

  “Hold up,” he said as he turned and entered the shop behind him. The butcher glanced up as they entered. Covered in a blood-soaked formerly white apron, the man smiled, welcoming new customers.

  “Prescott said he sold you some steers,” Dusty said. “You still got the hides?”

  The man frowned then nodded. “I got a man in St. Louis that buys them. Makes shoes.”

  “Can we look at them?” Dusty asked as his heart pounded in his chest.

  The man shrugged his shoulders then pushed back a curtain to the back room.

  “What …” Rebecca started.

  Dusty ignored her as he followed the butcher. They still had to get lucky. But if he was going to prove what he suspected this was their best chance.

  “Why are we doing this?” Rebecca demanded.

  He stopped and said, “The only way to see if a brand has been altered is to check the inside. You can see where the new brand has been burned in over the old one.”

  Rebecca’s eyes grew wide. “You can prove the brand has been altered?”

  “Maybe,” he told her. “If any of our stock was included in the lot sold to this man.”

  “Hey,” the butcher exclaimed. “I don’t check the brands. Ain’t my job.”

  Dusty ignored him as he marched back to the pile of dried hides in the corner. He pulled the first stiff hide off the pile and studied the brand on the inside white surface, then tossed it aside to inspect the next. It took him six hides to find what he was looking for.

  He pulled it aside and showed it to Jack. His friend whistled through his teeth and shook his head.

  “I knew it,” Dusty cursed through clenched teeth.

  “What?” Rebecca asked with a furious frown.

  “Here,” Dusty said as he pointed at the inside of the hide where it was obvious that a Ladder S brand was new and covered an old C-Bar brand.

  She studied if for a moment then nodded. It was obvious even to a novice like her.

  “You got a knife?” Dusty asked the butcher. He’d left his in his saddlebag back on Big Red.

  “Here,” Rebecca said as she lifted the hem of her dress to pull the knife from the sheath tied to her calf. The one he had given her back on the train. She held it out for him with a small smile.

  He could only shake his head, not only amazed that she still had it, but by the sight of her ankle and lower leg. A sharp need flashed through him. So intense it took him a moment to remember what he was doing.

  Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he turned and cut a large circle in the hide and removed the evidence of rustling.

  “I didn’t know,” the butcher said as he held up his hands and backed away.

  “Next time you see an altered C-Bar brand you tell me,” Dusty said. “Or there ain’t a ranch that will sell you beef. Hard for a butcher to make a living without anything to sell.”

  The butcher gulped hard then nodded.

  “I wonder if John discovered the truth,” Jack said. Obviously implying that someone had killed John to keep the secret.

  Dusty felt an anger build inside of him. Johnson had stolen from Rebecca and very well might have been involved in John Carson’s death. This ended now, he thought as he stormed out of the butcher's shop and into the street.

  “Johnson,” he called out to the men standing in front of the bank. “You are a thief, a liar, and a cheat. What is even worse, you’re a coward.”

  Every person within earshot froze solid. These were fighting words. In fact, killing words. No man could survive in this land with such a reputation. People would shun him. Businesses would refuse him service. He would become a pariah. His only option was to challenge the man saying such words.

  This was why Dusty had used those words in particular. He had purposely made it a fight to the death.

  Peabody, the banker gasped as he stepped away from the Ladder S owner, obviously not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

  Tad Johnson frantically looked around to see if anyone had heard. All the color drained from his face when he realized over a dozen people had heard and were waiting to see how he would respond.

  Cowboys loafing outside the Red Grove stood up to get a better view. The sutler sweeping out front of his store looked back and forth between the opponents, his eyes wide with excitement.

  By the end of the day, there wouldn’t be a bunkhouse, saloon, or minor’s camp within fifty miles that hadn’t heard about Dusty Rhodes calling out Tad Johnson. How Johnson responded would be the centerpiece of every story.

  Dusty could see it in Johnson’s eyes. The man was embarrassed. Mortified and he knew what those words meant. He squinted as he stared at Dusty with an anger of his own. One of them was going to die.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Rebecca couldn’t believe what was happening right in front of her eyes. Dusty stood with his feet set wide, his hand hovering over his gun.

  NO! he was going to be killed because of her. All for her ranch. Rushing forward she put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Dusty, Please …”

  He growled under his breath and didn’t look away from the men in front of him. “I thought I told you that if the shooting starts you were supposed to be somewhere else.”

  The anger in his voice startled her. The thought that his last words would be spoken in anger at her made her feel lost and helpless.

  “Dust…”

  “Jack,” he called out still without taking his eyes away from the men in front of him.

  “Come away,” Jack said as he pulled her from Dusty’s side. She tried to shrug off his hand but he kept her under control. “Not now,” he hissed. “You’ll get him killed.”

  Her stomach fell. Was she making it worse? But he couldn’t do this. Not for her. If anything happened to him she would die of a broken heart.

  Tad Johnson watched her being led to the side, a dozen yards away, and slowly shook his head. Obviously thinking that she needed a man to fight her battles. The thought sent a cold anger through her. It should be her facing this man. It was her cattle that had been stolen. It was her brother that had been killed.

  Yet Dusty had taken on the role of her hero. For nothing really. He could have made the same money without taking on the risk. He could have walked away but he hadn’t. It wasn’t in him, she realized.

  She swallowed hard as she held her breath. The tension in the street was as thick as a mountain fog. The men and few women on each side of the street had moved to form an audience, being careful to stay out of the
line of sight for any shooting.

  “Please,” she prayed under her breath.

  “Here,” Dusty said as he tossed the piece of brown hide into the street at Johnson’s feet. “Proof you’ve been stealing C-Bar cattle.”

  The crowd gasped. Even Peabody shot Johnson a surprised look. If he was believed to have been financing such an operation. His business would fail immediately. No rancher in the area would do business with him. And most of the merchants would follow suit, not wanting to upset the ranchers.

  Johnson looked down at the piece of brown hide then up at Dusty with a sneer as he carefully pulled back his coat. “I’m unarmed,” he said as his sneer grew larger.

  Dusty spit into the dirt. “Like I said. A coward. You knew this might happen and were too yellow to face the consequences.”

  Rebecca gasped. Johnson had counted on Dusty’s honor. He knew that the cowboy would never shoot an unarmed man. She watched as Johnson shrugged his shoulders. She could see it in his eyes. He thought there wasn’t enough proof of rustling. Let alone anything to link him to John’s disappearance.

  “Very well,” Dusty said as he began to unbuckle his gun belt then tossed it and its gun to Jack who snatched it out of the air.

  Johnson smiled slowly then whispered something to Palmer standing next to him. “It’s better this way,” he said to Dusty as he began to remove his coat and roll up his sleeves.

  Rebecca’s stomach dropped. The man was built like a bull. A barrel chest and a neck as thick as a country ham. He out weighted Dusty by at least forty pounds and looked like a monster from her worst nightmare.

  “Did you kill John Carson when he discovered what you were doing to his stock?” Dusty asked.

  She held her breath wondering if Johnson would answer.

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Johnson growled.

  Dusty’s hands clenched into fists as he spit into the dirt again. “I ain’t a drunk cowboy or an old miner you can hit from behind.”

  Johnson’s face grew white. Rebecca knew instantly that Dusty had frightened him with the truth.

  Her insides quivered with fear. These men wanted to kill each other. The man she loved was in danger and there was nothing she could do to help him.