Buckhorn

by William W. Johnstone

  Buckhorn veered closer, reached over, and grabbed the reins. He slowed the roan and pulled back on Calvert’s mount at the same time. Both horses gradually came to a stop.

  Calvert turned his head and looked at Buckhorn with bleary, pain-wracked eyes.

  “Gonna . . . finish me off now . . . you damned . . . gunfighter?” he rasped.

  “You’ve got me all wrong, mister,” Buckhorn said. “I think I may turn out to be the best friend you’ve ever had.”

  He was wasting his breath, though, because Calvert had used up the last of his strength. He passed out and started to topple off the horse. Buckhorn crowded the roan closer and caught him. He lifted the wounded man in front of him and turned to ride slowly back toward the hill. After a moment, Calvert’s horse trailed behind them.

  * * *

  It wasn’t long before Buckhorn spotted four riders galloping toward them. He kept the roan moving at the same careful pace. The riders swept up with a cloud of dust swirling around them, and Buckhorn had to rein in as they surrounded him.

  Two young men, a boy, and a girl. The three males looked enough alike for Buckhorn to know they were brothers, and it was a pretty safe guess their last name was Calvert.

  The girl was Lorna McChesney. She had the old buffalo rifle balanced in front of her across the saddle.

  The old buffalo rifle with which she had blown out Hackberry’s lights and saved Buckhorn’s life. He had recognized the sound of that weapon as soon as he heard it, so Lorna’s presence here came as no surprise to him.

  The two older Calvert brothers pointed their rifles at Buckhorn. One of them warned, “Don’t you move, mister!”

  “Careful, Tim,” the youngest boy said. “He’s got Pa!”

  “All of you settle down,” Buckhorn said. “I’m not going to hurt your father. He’s already wounded, though, and I don’t know how bad it is. Put those Winchesters away and get him down off this horse so I can take a look at him.”

  They all hesitated and looked uncertain, then Lorna said, “I think you should do what Mr. Buckhorn says, Tim. He ain’t really like those other men who work for Conroy.”

  “All gun-wolves are alike,” Tim Calvert muttered. “A bunch of damned predators.”

  “The man who shot your father would agree with you,” Buckhorn said. “Now, are you going to just sit there and let him bleed to death, or are you going to give me a hand?”

  The young man still hesitated, but only for a second longer. Then he said, “Jasper, you and Lorna cover him. Finn, help me with Pa.”

  The two older brothers slid their rifles back into the saddle boots, then dismounted and came over to take hold of their father. With Buckhorn’s help, they carefully lowered him and placed him on the ground.

  Buckhorn swung down from the saddle. Lorna was pointing her buffalo gun in his general direction, but only halfheartedly. The youngest Calvert brother, though, had an old Henry repeater trained on him. His eyes were wide as they stared at Buckhorn over the rifle’s barrel.

  “Having guns pointed in my direction tends to annoy me,” Buckhorn said. “Especially when they’re in the hands of green, nervous kids.”

  “I ain’t a kid,” Jasper said. “I’m fifteen years old!”

  “Jasper, that’s enough,” Tim said. He waved for his little brother to put down the rifle, then told Buckhorn, “Mister, if you’ll go ahead and do what you can for him, we’ll be obliged to you.”

  Buckhorn knelt next to the unconscious Ned Calvert. The rancher’s shirt and vest were wet with blood. Buckhorn pulled back the garments to get a look at the wound, then gently rolled Calvert onto his right side. There was more blood on the man’s left side.

  “From the looks of it, the bullet hit him at an angle and struck a rib, and that made it glance off and come out back here,” Buckhorn said as he pointed at the second bloodstain. “That’s the best you can hope for, if it happened that way. Rib could be busted, but it kept the bullet away from his heart and the lung on that side. I’ll need some clean cloth to plug up those holes and slow down the bleeding, then we’ll have to get him someplace where some serious patching up can be done.”

  “I can cut some pieces off my shirt,” Lorna offered. “I’m a hell of a lot cleaner than these three. Don’t reckon they’ve had a bath in a year, and it’s only been about a month for me.”

  Buckhorn looked up at her, nodded, and said, “All right, go ahead.”

  Lorna started to pull the shirttails out of the waistband of her trousers and then paused.

  “You boys turn your damned heads,” she said sharply. “You don’t go starin’ at a lady when she’s messin’ with her clothes.”

  Buckhorn looked down at the ground and smiled a little.

  He took out his folding knife and cut the shirt and vest off Ned Calvert. It didn’t take long to plug the bullet holes and tie makeshift bandages in place.

  Then they lifted the rancher onto his horse. Calvert was still unconscious, so someone would have to ride behind him and hold him in the saddle. Buckhorn explained that, then pointed to Jasper and said, “That’s a good job for you, boy, since you’re lighter than either of your brothers.”

  “I’ll do it to help Pa,” Jasper muttered, “but I don’t much cotton to bein’ called boy.”

  “Well, I’d try to muster up some sympathy for you, if not for the fact that I don’t care what you cotton to. How far is it to your ranch house?”

  “A couple of miles,” Tim said.

  “I think your father can make it that far. The bullet’s not still in him, so it can’t do any more damage. That’s one thing he has going for him. Just take it easy, so you don’t jolt him around too much and make the bleeding worse.” He rubbed his chin for a moment as he thought. “Tim, Finn, you ride on either side of your brother so you can help him with your father if he needs a hand. I’ll lead Jasper’s horse, and Lorna and I will bring up the rear.”

  “You’re comin’ with us?” Jasper yelped. “Tim, you’re gonna let one of Conroy’s men set foot in our house?”

  Tim said, “If he hadn’t gone after Pa the way he did, Pa might’ve passed out, fallen off that horse, and gotten dragged to pieces.”

  “Anyway,” Lorna added, “I got a hunch he ain’t like all them other sons o’ bitches who work for Conroy.”

  Jasper frowned at her and said, “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that, Lorna.”

  “And I don’t give a damn what you wish, Jasper Calvert.”

  “And you shouldn’t be ridin’ back there with a . . . a man like him! You’re a girl!”

  Buckhorn said, “She’s a girl with a rifle that has a longer range than anything the rest of us are carrying, and a fine shooting eye, to boot. If anybody unpleasant shows up on our trail, I’d rather have her back here to handle it.”

  That put a smile on Lorna’s face, a genuine one this time. She said, “Why, thank you, Mr. Buckhorn!”

  “Come on,” Tim snapped. “We’re wasting time with all this jawin’.”

  They nudged their horses into motion and rode southeast. Buckhorn and Lorna gradually fell farther back, and after a while Buckhorn said quietly, “You should probably be a little more patient with Jasper. He likes you.”

  “He what?”

  “In fact, he’s probably convinced himself that he’s in love with you.”

  Lorna blew out a disgusted breath.

  “That’s the biggest bunch of bull—”

  “I’ve seen the signs before,” Buckhorn drawled as a smile somewhat relieved the naturally grim lines of his face. “When he looks at you, he’s got romance on his mind.”

  “Well, he’s damned sure gonna be disappointed, then, because Jasper Calvert’s just about the last fella I’d want courtin’ me. Hell, he can’t shoot worth sh—”

  “He might have other good qualities,” Buckhorn broke in. “Although I have to admit, I haven’t really seen ’em so far.”

  “And you ain’t gonna, ’cause he don’t have any. Except he does l
ove his family, I reckon,” Lorna added grudgingly. “All the Calverts are pretty good folks. When my pa got hurt, they took us in, and the boys have been helpin’ me a little with the ranch. Not that it matters any, though, since in a few more days Conroy’s gonna gobble it up like he has just about all the spreads between the mountains and the railroad.”

  “Your spread’s north of here,” Buckhorn mused. “Conroy’s taking over the holdouts in the order that his construction crews will get to them.”

  “Yeah, pretty soon he’s gonna have everything.” Lorna’s voice caught a little as she went on, “The Calverts can’t stop him, especially now that Mr. Calvert’s hurt. They’ll put up a fight—Tim and Finn are mighty stubborn—but Conroy’s just got too many damned hired killers.” She bit her lip a little as she glanced over at Buckhorn. “Sorry if I’m speakin’ out of turn.”

  He chuckled.

  “Everything you say is true, girl. I ought to know, because I’m one of those hired killers. At least . . . I was.”

  She started to look a little excited as she said, “You’re quittin’ Conroy? Because maybe it’d be a good idea. I swear, it looked like that fella I plugged was fixin’ to shoot you in the back—”

  “That’s because he was,” Buckhorn said. “And I owe you thanks for that, too.”

  “You let me go, up in Gunsight Canyon, when you didn’t have to,” Lorna said. “I’m glad I could do somethin’ to pay you back some. So that fella was really aimin’ to kill you?”

  “Yes, and it was his second try, too. He ambushed me in Crater City last night, in the livery stable. I suspected as much when I saw him limping this morning. The man who tried to kill me last night had to jump out of a hayloft to get away, and that’s a good way to turn an ankle.”

  “A man could hurt his ankle a bunch of other ways,” Lorna pointed out.

  “Sure, but I caught a glance that Hackberry and Madison gave each other later on, when they were talking about what happened. I was pretty sure then that they set the whole thing up. Madison had Hackberry keeping an eye on me, to make sure I didn’t poke around and find out more than I was supposed to. Hackberry heard me asking the liveryman if some of Conroy’s hired guns were in the habit of taking their horses out in the middle of the night. That was enough to make him think I was onto them.”

  “Mr. Buckhorn,” Lorna said, “I’m afraid I don’t have a single solitary notion what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “You said it yourself. Folks who might have been able to pay off those notes Conroy snatched up couldn’t do it because they got burned out or had their stock rustled. You figured Conroy’s men were doing that. I think so, too. I was looking for proof of it, and Madison didn’t want me to find it.”

  “Hell, everybody knows Conroy’s crooked! Why’s he makin’ such a big fuss about it?”

  “Because he’s worried about the law. He doesn’t want any of it being tied back to him. So he gives Madison a free hand to do whatever is necessary, as long as he doesn’t know about it. Thing of it is, he’s trusting Madison too much. He’s not playing exactly the same game Conroy is.”

  Lorna shook her head and said, “You’re losin’ me again.”

  “Madison wants to marry Conroy’s daughter and take over. To do that, sooner or later he’ll have to get Conroy out of the way. He tried to get me to come in on it with him, and when I didn’t jump at the chance, he got worried that he’d spilled too much. That really wasn’t true, though, because I already knew about his plans. Conroy’s daughter Alexis figured out what Madison is up to and asked me to put a stop to it.”

  Buckhorn didn’t say anything about what else had gone on between him and Alexis Conroy.

  “So, let me get this straight . . . you’re working for Conroy, but Madison and Conroy’s daughter each tried to get you to throw in with them?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why, you’re a popular fella, Mr. Buckhorn.”

  That made him laugh. Jasper Calvert must have heard it, because he looked back over his shoulder and glared at them.

  “What are you gonna do now?” Lorna asked. “Go back to Crater City and keep working for Conroy?”

  Buckhorn shook his head and said, “I don’t figure I can do that. Madison got away, and I’m sure he’s headed back to Conroy as fast as his horse will carry him. He’ll spin some pack of lies for Conroy about how I double-crossed him and the others. He’ll probably claim I’ve really been working for Hugh Thornton all along. No, all of Conroy’s men would be gunning for me as soon as I rode into town.”

  “Then . . . maybe you’d be interested in throwin’ in with a lost cause . . . ?”

  “Might as well be hanged for a wolf instead of a sheep,” Buckhorn said.

  “Yeah,” Lorna said. “A gun-wolf.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The Calvert ranch was the C Cross, Lorna explained to Buckhorn. A short time later they came in sight of the headquarters, which consisted of a whitewashed ranch house set among some cottonwoods, a bunkhouse, barn and corral, and several other outbuildings. A small stream that Lorna identified as Digger Creek ran nearby.

  Several dogs ran out to meet the riders, barking furiously as they did so. The racket drew a woman onto the front porch of the ranch house. She picked up the apron she wore and held it to her mouth for a second in an attitude of shock and fear, then dropped it and rushed down the steps. As the woman ran toward them, Lorna told Buckhorn, “That’s Miz Calvert. Reckon she can tell that Mr. Calvert’s hurt.”

  “How many hands do they have working for them?” Buckhorn asked.

  “Just four, and all of ’em are a mite long in the tooth and stove up. They can work cattle all right, but they’re a far cry from gunfighters.” Lorna sighed. “Couple of Conroy’s men got killed on him today, and another one quit. How do you reckon he’s gonna take that?”

  “Not well,” Buckhorn said. “If Madison comes back out here with the rest of that crew, it could get pretty ugly.”

  “How can we stop ’em, though?”

  “Let me think on that.”

  Mrs. Calvert had tears streaking her face when she reached the group of riders. She cried, “Oh, my God! Ned!”

  “He’ll be all right, Ma,” Tim told her. “He’s got a pair of bullet holes in him, but it’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “He’s been shot! What do you mean, it’s not as bad as it looks?” Without waiting for an answer, the woman grasped her husband’s hand and went on, “We have to get him inside and into bed. One of you boys ride to Fletcher’s Crossing as fast as you can and get the doctor.”

  Lorna looked over at Buckhorn and said, “I reckon I’d better go give ’em a hand, if I can. Are you gonna be here for a while, or are you ridin’ out?”

  “I’ll be moving on.”

  “Don’t want to be here when Madison gets back with the rest of that bunch, huh? Well, I can’t say as I blame you.”

  Buckhorn didn’t correct her assumption. He couldn’t stop Lorna from thinking whatever she wanted to.

  The girl went on, “Thanks for giving us a hand. With Mr. Calvert, I mean.”

  Buckhorn nodded. He lifted a hand in farewell and rode off as the three Calvert brothers and their mother carried the wounded rancher into the house.

  Buckhorn hadn’t been on this part of the range before, but the Mesteños were visible in the distance with Gunsight Canyon cutting through them, so he was able to steer by that landmark. When he reached the canyon, he entered it cautiously. He didn’t think Yancy Madison would be waiting here to ambush him—it was much more likely the gunman had lit a shuck for Crater City and never slowed down—but such a thing couldn’t be ruled out entirely.

  The surveying crew had almost reached the northern end of the canyon by the time Buckhorn rode up on them. Neal Drake lifted a hand and motioned for him to stop. Drake didn’t appear to be armed, so Buckhorn reined in.

  “I hear you’re a dirty, no-good, double-crossing son of a bitch, Mr. Buckhorn,” Drake greeted him.
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  Buckhorn rested his hands on the saddle horn and leaned forward.

  “Words like that have a habit of getting a man killed out here, Mr. Drake,” he said.

  “Oh, they’re not mine. I’m just quoting Yancy Madison. He said you murdered Hackberry and Russell.”

  “He’s a liar,” Buckhorn said flatly. “They’re both dead, but I didn’t kill either of them.”

  Drake nodded.

  “The thing of it is, it’s not my fight, even though Madison tried to rope me in on it.”

  Buckhorn raised an eyebrow and asked, “How’d he do that?”

  “He wanted us to lay an ambush for you while he rode on to Crater City to round up more of Conroy’s men. We were supposed to try to capture you and hold you here until he got back with the others.”

  “You’ve got kind of a funny way of doing it.”

  Drake grimaced and waved a dismissive hand.

  “I told him that Mr. Conroy paid us to survey a route for that spur line, not to be gunslingers. We’ll defend ourselves if we’re attacked, certainly, but I’m not going out of my way to look for a fight . . . especially a fight with a man in your line of work.”

  Buckhorn smiled faintly as he said, “I reckon Madison didn’t take too kindly to that.”

  “He was mad, all right,” Drake admitted. “He said he’d be telling Mr. Conroy all about it. I told him to go ahead.” The surveyor paused. “I’ll admit that I’m curious, though. Are you really double-crossing Mr. Conroy?”

  “I wouldn’t call it that so much as just deciding that I don’t want to work for him anymore.”

  “You mind if I ask why?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t care for the way he does business . . . and I don’t like it when people try to shoot me in the back, either.”

  “Who did that?”

  “Hackberry. But he was acting on Madison’s orders. If there’s been any double-crossing going on, he’s the one doing it. Conroy would be pretty smart to watch his back, too.”