Buck and the Widow Rancher (2006)

by Youngblood, Carlton

  Blount signaled with one hand, ‘Sheriff, why don’t you leave us alone. I want to talk to Hugh and you don’t want to know what it’s all about.’

  Looking at the banker and then back at Hightower, Holt frowned. ‘There’s a lot going on that I don’t want to know about. If a marshal does come to town, even if it happened out of town, I’m going to get smeared for not following up on Randle’s death. And now there’s the shooting of Hubbard. I gotta tell you, I don’t like any of this. It ain’t what I thought we were doing.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Hightower sneered, ‘but until now you were right there, doing what you could to make it work. Don’t worry so much. You’ll still get in on the payoff. Now leave us. Go have a drink or something.’

  Both men waited until the sheriff left the room, closing the door quietly behind him before continuing their talk.

  ‘Hugh, he’s right. We’re doing a lot more than we thought we’d have to do. Now, what’s this about your son. Which one was it, Paul?’

  ‘Yeah. He’s always been a milk toast. I told Frank and Hughie to drive cattle into the farmer’s crop and he heard me. Looks like the little sneak ran to tell Matilda and she told Armstrong. I haven’t seen the boys yet, so I don’t know what happened.’

  ‘Why, Hugh? You already had the farmers and the sheepherders against the Rocking C. You didn’t need to do anything more.’

  ‘Yeah, I did. That Cooder girl has been riding over to Matilda’s to meet with Paul. I couldn’t let that go on any more. Those squatters have to go and that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘OK. OK. I don’t agree, but you’re the boss. Now, what’s this about Armstrong sending for a marshal. Is that something to worry about?’

  ‘No. I’m going to do what I should have some time ago. Armstrong won’t be bothering us any more.’

  ‘We don’t know who sent him here, remember. He could have some important friends. I think we should think about having him show up dead.’

  ‘Don’t lose any sleep over it. I guarantee he won’t show up dead. When I get through, he won’t ever show up again.’

  CHAPTER 21

  When they reached the bridge Paul decided he wanted to ride over to see what had happened the night before. Thinking about it, Buck decided he’d ride along. Waving to Matilda the pair turned off and set out at a gallop.

  Not sure of the welcome they would get, they pulled up when they came in sight of the farmer’s yard and sat in the saddle for a moment. High cloud cover made the day a little cooler than had been and the men had enjoyed the morning ride. Waiting for some sign from the house, Buck once again looked the place over.

  ‘This Cooder takes a lot of pride in his property, doesn’t he?’ he murmured. ‘I guess if your pa thinks the farmer is nothing but a squatter he hasn’t seen it.’

  ‘No, Pa wouldn’t think of riding over here. If you don’t raise horses or cattle, in his eyes, you just don’t belong. Even having the sheepherders on the high desert isn’t tolerated. And that country won’t support anything else. Pa is kinda blind when it comes to what he thinks is right.’

  Finally a man stepped out on the porch and, after staring at the mounted men for a bit, waved them in. If Cooder took satisfaction in his home place, that feeling didn’t show up on his person. Where the house, barn and outbuildings were painted and almost new looking, his clothes were patched and worn. Nowhere in the yard could one find any weeds or wild grass growing, but the farmer’s hair sprouted in all directions, uncut and uncombed. Emotionless he nodded to the two.

  ‘Might as well step down. If we aren’t hospitable this morning it’s because we lost a good man last night. Zeke Zimmerman had the next farm over and he and his sons came to help. We heard them coming and before they could reach my fences, we turned them back. In all the shooting and yelling, Zeke caught it. We took his body home this morning. He’s got a big family and I don’t know what they’ll do now. The oldest boy said he can take care of the farm and maybe he will. We’ll give him all the help we can and hope for the best, I guess.’ If ever Buck had seen a man close to the end of his rope, it was this man.

  ‘Mr Cooder? I’m sorry for that man’s death,’ Paul’s voice was soft.

  ‘Well, that’s appreciated. Your warning saved us. I know you said it was your brothers that were behind it all, and I know how much it must have cost you. We are all grateful for your help. It’s just too bad that someone has to get killed, that’s all.’ Cooder stood with his head down for a minute and then looked up at Paul, ‘I expect you’d like to see Elizabeth. She’s waiting inside. If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk with your big friend here.’

  Throwing the older man a smile, Paul was out of the saddle and across the porch just as the door opened. As he disappeared inside, Cooder motioned to Buck to climb out of the saddle.

  ‘Let’s walk down to the barn.’

  Walking beside the man, Buck saw that he was a head shorter and made even shorter by rarely raising his head. ‘You were there to help warn us, and I want to apologize for my talk the last time we met.’

  ‘No reason to say sorry, Mr Cooder. I expect if someone was chousing cattle through my crops, I’d get mad at anybody who ran cattle. But it wasn’t the Randles behind your troubles. Hugh Hightower seems to have the opinion that if he’s rough enough on you all, you’ll pull up and leave. This land, he thinks, should be used to raise livestock, and only livestock.’

  ‘Well, he’s wrong. We ain’t about to pull up stakes and run. Even if we did, there’re others who’d come in. This is good land for dry farming. But that isn’t what I wanted to talk about. It’s about that boy, Paul. My Lizzie has been railing me ragged about him. What do you think of him?’

  ‘I don’t know much about him, but Matilda Randle seems to think highly of him. He made it clear that he wanted to come warn your people after hearing his pa tell his brothers what to do. I guess that makes it clear that he has strong feelings for your daughter.’

  ‘That must have been hard for him, coming here to tell us about his brothers’ plan. How will he take it when he finds out that one of them got shot?’

  Buck stopped and looked down at the man. ‘Ah, well now. That could change things, couldn’t it?’ Looking back over the yard, he considered. ‘I don’t know. We talked a bit about how hard it is to make a decision, but I doubt if he took into account anything like that happening. I just don’t know how he’ll take the news. How bad was his brother hit?’

  ‘I didn’t see it happen and don’t know. One of the hands bragged about knocking one of the leaders out of the saddle, but later, after they turned and ran for it, we didn’t find anything. It had to be one of the brothers, though.’

  ‘He’ll have to know. This morning, when his pa heard that Paul had been with me, he got damn mad. Hightower told Paul not to bother going back to their ranch. Matilda Randle said she’d give him a job and somewhere to stay.’

  ‘I don’t know what’s happening. Ever since me and Ma came here, it’s been a good life. We raise our wheat and crops and keep to ourselves. Now, well, things have changed and I fear they’re gonna get worse before they get better.’

  *

  Paul must have been told about one of his brothers being shot by someone in the house. Riding with Buck back to the Rocking C later, he was quiet until they reached the turn off.

  ‘I guess I’d better head on back to our ranch. I got to know what happened last night, if it was Frank or Hughie that got shot.’ He was miserable in the decision.

  ‘Do you think your pa is going to welcome you if one of his boys was hurt by the farmers? Don’t forget how he took the news that you’d been with Matilda and me in warning the farmers. I’d think this over real carefully, Paul,’ he warned.

  ‘I don’t know what to do.’ Glancing over at Buck, he asked the big man what he’d do.

  ‘I can’t rightly say, boy. It seems to me foolhardy to go riding in if Frank or Hughie has been shot. But I can see how you’d want to know. Maybe you ough
t to talk to Matilda about it. She might have heard something.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Paul quickly decided. ‘Maybe she can tell me which way I should jump. I just don’t know.’

  ‘There seems to be a lot of that going around. Come on, let’s ride on in and see what’s what.’

  Matilda was sitting on the porch when they rode in. Even before getting down off his horse, Paul was asking about his brothers.

  ‘I don’t know, Paul,’ she replied, showing her distress. ‘All I’ve heard is that some twenty or so head of our stock had been pushed down in the south end and were grazing peacefully this morning. Hank and some of the boys had heard the shooting late last night and he sent someone down to see what it was all about this morning. He didn’t say anything about seeing any sign of what the critters were doing, but being that far south now could mean only one thing. They’ve all been brought back toward the holding ground.’

  ‘That means I’ll have to ride over to find out myself.’

  ‘I wouldn’t, Paul. Your father made it real clear that he didn’t want you around. I’d wait and let him cool off some before I went riding in over there. If either of the boys got shot, we’ll hear about it soon enough, I reckon.’

  It didn’t take much more than that to talk him into staying clear of the H Bar H. Matilda made it easier by sending him out to the holding ground and putting him to work on the round-up gather. After he threw his saddle on to a fresh horse, Buck watched him ride out.

  ‘I didn’t want to say it in front of the boy, but there was a hat found down by the river. It was all bloody, but none of the men could say who it belonged to.’

  ‘Maybe I should ride down that way, see what I can find out. If nothing else I could use another sack of tobacco. If one of Hightower’s boys got shot up, the news is sure to be a major topic in town.’

  Matilda frowned. ‘Is that a smart thing to do, going into town? Sheriff Holt is certain to still be upset and if anyone on that stage has been talking there’ll be others in town who will believe you’re the robber.’

  Buck laughed. ‘Yeah and my riding in will either convince them I’m truly bad or show them that I couldn’t be guilty. It’s probably a good idea to show my face around a little more. Likely someone’ll get nervous and make a mistake. Something’s going on, like I said before, and I want to know what it is.’

  ‘Well, you be very careful. I wouldn’t like to find your body lying alongside the trail somewhere.’

  ‘Now, Mrs Randle, I do think you’re starting to believe I’m not the killer bad guy you thought I was not so long ago.’

  The young woman’s face flushed and she quickly rose from the rocking chair and went to the front door. Opening it she turned and once again looked at Buck. ‘That was when I’d been listening to Hugh. Now we see where he stands. A girl can change her mind, can’t she?’ she asked, going in the house.

  CHAPTER 22

  Taking his time, he stopped to water his horse at the river before crossing the bridge. Sitting quietly alongside the fast moving water, he again watched the flows around rocks and over a nearby gravel bar. If that pool behind those boulders out in mid-stream wasn’t home to a big, hungry trout, then he’d eat his hat. Even as he watched, the surface dimpled as some sort of winged insect tried to swim its way to safety. Just that little movement and the insect had become supper for the unseen trout.

  Smiling at the action, Buck wasn’t aware he had company until he heard the harsh command from behind him.

  ‘Move and I’ll kill you.’ Slowly he twisted around to find both Hugh and Frank Hightower sitting their horses, both pointing Winchesters at his back. ‘Now very slowly, unbuckle your gunbelt and toss it back here,’ Hugh ordered.

  Buck hesitated, but could see no way out of his predicament so he did as he was told, wrapping the belt as tightly around the holster to protect the weapon as much as possible. He needn’t have worried. Frank had dismounted and caught the heavy belt before it hit the rocks.

  ‘Now this is what I call a real prize,’ Hugh laughed, ‘finding you alone with nobody within miles, just sitting there like a Christmas present. Frank,’ he said, without taking his eyes off Armstrong, ‘take those pigging strings you carry in your saddle-bags and tie his hands to his saddle horn. Be careful and don’t get between us. Don’t trust him any.’

  Frank did as his pa told him, wrapping the thin leather thongs tightly around each wrist and then securing them to the saddle. ‘I don’t think you’ll be using those hands for a while.’ Like his pa, the young Hightower’s laugh held little humor. The thin cords were already cutting into the circulation. Buck knew that soon his hands would become discolored. He faced his tormentor and didn’t let anything show on his face.

  ‘Big, brave gunman, ain’t you?’ Hugh said, kneeing his horse close and taking the black stud’s reins. ‘Well, we’ll see. Yes, we’ll see just how brave you are.’

  Hugh headed out, leading Buck’s horse with Frank bringing up the rear. Turning away from the road after crossing the river, the three rode west in single file, keeping to the trees and willows that bordered the water. Keeping an eye on the sun, Buck figured they had been riding for three hours or so after leaving the river before Hugh changed direction. Leaving the river they were crossing what Juan Navarro had called the high desert. The rolling landscape was covered with juniper trees, clusters of sagebrush and sparse clumps of sun-dried grass as far as the eye could see. Ahead in the direction Hugh was now taking, all Buck could see was the snag of a long-dead tree standing alone on the top of a slight rise.

  ‘This will do, boy.’ Hightower motioned to his son. Frank laughed and got down from his horse. Patting the black on its rump, he came alongside Buck and, taking a Barlow folding knife from a hip pocket, open the big blade and cut the pigging string. Pain shot through Buck’s wrists and arms as the blood flowed once more. Grabbing Buck’s leg, he was lifted and thrown out of the saddle. Surprised, he tried to twist so he’d land on his shoulder, but was only partially successful.

  Still chuckling, Frank took the reins of all three horses and tied them to a low branch of a juniper tree. Buck, lying flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him, grimaced as the blood reached his fingers causing them to tingle painfully.

  ‘You comfortable?’ Hugh chuckled. He reached down and, taking hold of Buck’s arm, lifted him. Still feeling the effects of being dumped off his horse and not being able to use his hands, Buck was unable to resist. ‘Give me a hand here, boy,’ he called to Frank. Together they lifted the cowboy and leaned him against the dried tree trunk. Pulling one arm out, Hugh quickly tied Buck’s left wrist to a leafless snag of a limb as Frank tied his other arm to a limb on the other side. Both men stepped back and looked over their handiwork.

  ‘Now you see how it is, killer?’ Hugh snarled. ‘You’ve been causing me a lot of trouble since you come into the basin, but that’s over now. Your warning those damn squatters cost me a son. I’ll take care of them, but now we’ve got you to deal with. And that’s what we’re going to do, right Frank? I got to warn you, Armstrong. My boy here is damn mad about losing his brother. I’ll protect you, though. I won’t let him kill you.’ His chuckle was without humor.

  Buck had been watching the two men’s faces as Hightower made his speech and could see that nothing he said would have any impact so he kept silent. Frank was only a little shorter than his pa’s six feet but he looked to be a little heavier. Knowing he had nothing to lose, he smiled. ‘Boy, sorry to hear about your brother. It was probably a bad idea, your trying to do those farmers damage. Like I’ve said, everything has a price and it looks like your brother paid in full.’

  ‘Damn you,’ Frank roared, stepping in and hitting Buck in the stomach folding him over. Hanging from his bound wrists, he tried to regain his feet when another blow landed on the side of his head.

  ‘Frank,’ Buck heard the elder Hightower call to his son through the ringing in his ears, ‘if you’re going to do that, you’d better put on gloves
or you’ll hurt your hands.’

  The leather gloves tore at Buck’s face as the young Hightower slapped him, first one side and then the other. Grunting with his effort, Frank threw one fist after another into Buck’s unprotected stomach, missing the soft middle once or twice to land his blows on one side of the rib cage or the other. Blackness hovered as the bound man’s vision narrowed. Fist after fist tore skin from both cheeks as the young man punished the man tied helplessly to the tree. Gratefully the pain grew fainter as Buck finally lost consciousness, his world fading out to complete darkness.

  CHAPTER 23

  Awareness returned with sharp pain shooting through his arms. Coming awake he found his hands once more tied too tightly to the saddle horn. When he tried to move his legs, he discovered his legs had been tied to the saddle’s stirrup leathers. The sun beat down on his head like a drum.

  ‘Hey, Pa, he’s awake,’ Frank yelled out, somewhere behind him.

  ‘Good. It’s no good if he doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him.’ Dropping back to ride beside Buck, Hightower smiled evilly. ‘Too bad about losing your hat. That sun’ll cook your brains if you don’t keep your head covered. But that’s the least of your worries. Do you know where you are? I doubt it. Being a stranger in this part of the state, you wouldn’t know about the big sand blow, would you?’

  Buck didn’t have the strength to answer, wasn’t even able to raise his head to look around. The pain from his wrists and arms was sharp agony almost overshadowing the dull pain of his face. Almost. That hurt, combined with the soreness of his stomach made him wonder how long Frank had pounded on him.

  ‘You see, the sand blow starts way up north and spreads out as you travel south. Of course, a smart man wouldn’t travel anywhere near this desert because there isn’t any water. None anywhere. Now, you being a stranger wouldn’t know that so when somebody finds you, if anybody ever does, it’ll just be your bones that’re found. No hat, no water and soon, no horse. Just another case of your taking the wrong turn and getting lost. Too bad, don’t you think?’