Carlton Kramer considered himself a fair judge of men, and this man, Slater, struck him as an opportunist that one should be cautious in dealing with. Although he came proclaiming a desire to establish a state of cooperation between the two of them, Carlton thought it best to alert Ralph Duncan to keep his eye on any stock left to graze near the south property line. As far as the man who accompanied Slater, introduced as Ned Appling, he looked the part of a common thug, and never uttered a word during the entire conversation. In spite of his impression of his visitors, however, Kramer was a polite and reasonable man, so he told himself that first impressions were not always accurate. “I appreciate your dropping by to meet me, Mr. Slater. And of course I wish you success in your cattle business.”
“Before I go,” Slater said, taking Kramer’s outstretched hand, “it would be impolite not to say hello to your niece. Elizabeth and I are acquaintances from Butte.”
“Elizabeth is not actually my niece,” Kramer replied, somewhat surprised that Elizabeth had any knowledge of John Slater, “but my wife and I have been like aunt and uncle to her since she was a small child.” His initial thought after Slater’s remark was hope that Elizabeth was not overly fond of the man.
Slater took his leave, annoyed that he had not been invited in for dinner. The son of a bitch thinks he’s too good to break bread with me, he thought. Give me a year, and he’ll be singing a different tune. He and the sullen man accompanying him led their horses toward the corral to meet the young lady. Letting Cade take Glory’s reins, Elizabeth started toward the house while he went to the barn to unsaddle the horses.
“Take a good look at that feller,” Slater said to Ned Appling. “I wanna make damn sure you remember him, ’cause you might be payin’ him a visit later on.” Slater handed his reins to Appling. “Now, you go on over by the corral and wait for me.”
“Well, Mr. Slater,” Elizabeth called out, “you show up everywhere.”
“Afternoon, Elizabeth,” Slater said, removing his hat to reveal his dark hair, parted down the middle, and brushing the dust that had settled upon the shoulders of his coat. “I swear, you get prettier every time I see you.”
“Why, Mr. Slater, you’re gonna have me blushing again. What brings you up this way? I thought you told me you would not be in Deer Lodge until next week.”
“I changed my mind. Like I told you the other day, I bought some property over on the other side of the mountain. There’s only a couple of cabins on it now, but I’m gonna start a cattle ranch, and I’m gonna build the finest house in Montana, a house fit for a queen. The woman that lives in that house will live like a queen, too. Not like a woman who marries a down-on-his-luck cowhand.” He glanced toward the barn after the comment.
“My,” Elizabeth responded, “that sounds romantic. I didn’t know you were married.”
“I ain’t. But I aim to be, and I’m a man who gets what he aims at.” His dark, brooding eyes locked on hers, leaving no question as to who that person might be. He nodded toward the barn. “How long is your pa’s hired hand gonna hang around?”
“Uncle Carlton asked him to stay and help break some horses,” she replied. Lowering her gaze from that of the outspoken man, Elizabeth preferred to remain coy, pretending not to recognize his obvious attempts to charm her. “Well, you sound very confident. I wish you luck in finding a wife.”
“Oh, I already found her. She just don’t know it yet.”
“My, you are confident,” Elizabeth said, mildly shocked by the man’s brazen persistence. Headstrong in her own fashion, she was not prone to be picked off the shelf like a can of peaches. Deciding it best to cut the meeting short, she said, “Well, Aunt Cornelia is waiting for me to help with dinner, and you’re probably anxious to get back. It was nice to see you again.” With that, she turned and left him standing there to look after her as she walked away.
You little bitch, he thought, his eyes focused on her slender body. You might think you’re too good for John Slater, but we’ll see about that. Turning to look at Ned Appling slouching by the corral, he ordered, “Come on, let’s get the hell offa this place.”
At that moment, Cade walked out of the barn, on his way back to the horses in the other corral. His appearance in the barn door caused both men to stop, clearly measuring each other. A smug grin crossed Ned’s face as he openly stared at Cade, sending a silent promise that there would be more between them. Although taking the measure of the man, Cade had no idea why he was being challenged, but the feeling in his gut told him that he definitely was. Maybe he just doesn’t like my looks, he thought. Then, glancing from Appling to Slater, he thought, Or maybe there’s another reason. Whatever, he had a feeling that he hadn’t seen the last of Appling.
Oblivious to the sinister standoff behind her, Elizabeth ascended the porch steps to find a disapproving White Moon waiting for her at the top. “You play with fire,” the Indian woman scolded. “That man, Slater, has evil in his eye.”
Elizabeth laughed at her stern guardian. “He is kinda interesting in a rakish way,” she said, just to inflame White Moon. It served its purpose.
“That man is no good for you,” White Moon retorted sternly. She had not been really concerned about John Slater before, because she believed that Elizabeth was just being her impish self, and not really interested in the man. She had even teased her about the rich miner. Now she wanted to make sure that her young charge had her head on straight. “You’ll get yourself in trouble if you keep wagging your tail in front of him.” Warmed up to the subject, she launched an attack on a second front. “Where did you go with Cade Hunter? You were gone a long time.”
Elizabeth grinned mischievously. “I took him to my secret place,” she answered coyly. “It was a beautiful morning for a ride.”
Exasperated, White Moon followed the precocious young lady into the house. “I’m going to tie you up and take you to your father,” she mumbled, causing Elizabeth to laugh. “Too much trouble for me,” White Moon said.
Chapter 11
His stay of a couple of days stretched into one of several weeks, as Cade continued to work with the horses, and eventually take over most of the responsibility for breaking difficult animals. It suited Cade fine because it kept his day occupied with the horses, a task he always enjoyed. It also exempted him from performing the other chores delegated to a cowhand at the home ranch. Unlike herding cattle on the open range, there were many chores done while not in the saddle—mending fences, milking, tending chickens, repairing buildings, working the garden, and so on—chores that most cowhands didn’t care for. There were some advantages, however—sleeping in a warm bunkhouse with a kitchen, and the town of Deer Lodge, with its saloons and bawdy houses within walking distance.
The Deer Lodge Valley was a land of lush grass and plenty of water, which made it suitable for raising cattle. Surrounded by mountains that protected the valley from much of the harsh weather, Cade could appreciate why Carlton Kramer had settled here. Life was peaceful for him again. He was seeing Beth at least once every day, and while he took this as happenstance, Ralph Duncan was astute enough to notice the various excuses the young lady found to warrant her presence at the horse ring. He made no comment, finding it amusing and harmless that the two young folks seemed to enjoy each other’s company.
The Bar-K crew was a laid-back group of men, the best that Cade had ever worked with, no bullies and no malcontents. He had made one good friend that he would occasionally go into town with to have a glass of beer. Red Reynolds was close to Cade’s age. A red-haired man from Nebraska, he earned the nickname Skunk when a wayward skunk wandered into the outhouse while Red was performing his morning ritual. The uninvited guest prompted Red to evacuate the outhouse while still in the process of evacuating his bowels, much to the entertainment of the rest of the crew. Ralph Duncan, in a fit of laughter, suggested that since the outhouse was a “two-holer,” they could have easily shared the toilet. An easygoing, good-natured man, Red took the japing without compla
int, insisting the only reason he fled was because he thought it was a female skunk. Cade enjoyed the man’s sense of humor, and the two young men became friends almost from the first day. It was a natural friendship, since they were the only really young men in Duncan’s crew.
For the first time in a while, Cade felt that he had found a home base. Working in a well-operated organization, he was content to do his job every day without complications, save that of the unexplained feeling of uncertainty caused by his encounters with Beth Walker. The young lady was troubling to the extent that he wasn’t really sure what their relationship was. She often called upon him to ride with her in the evenings, giving as excuse White Moon’s concern for her safety. She never gave any sign of affection for him beyond that of a friend, and there was never a repeat of the kiss she had given him on their first ride to her “secret place.” Red rode him unmercifully about the evening rides, convinced that there was a reason she never went with anyone else. “You better watch your step, boy,” Red teased. “That gal might be shakin’ out a noose for your neck.”
Cade, in his quiet, imperturbable way, ignored the teasing, which usually frustrated Red. He spent considerable time, however, trying to make sense of Elizabeth Walker, but in the end, he always had to conclude that she was just being her lighthearted self, and that she felt safe with him. Content for the time being, he nevertheless thought about his dream of someday raising horses on his own. Those thoughts always brought back the image of the green, grassy prairie between the Yellowstone and the Crazy Mountains. That, in turn, revived more serious memories and his unfulfilled vow to Luke Tucker. He issued a silent apology to his old friend for the contentment he now felt. He could not avoid a feeling of guilt for this peaceful time of his life. It would not last.
“Is he dead?” was the simple question John Slater asked when he stepped off the porch to meet the rider walking his horse slowly up to the house.
“Hell, he don’t never leave the place,” Ned Appling complained, “except when he’s ridin’ with that girl. And you told me not to shoot him if she was around.”
“Dammit,” Slater cursed, “you oughta be able to get a shot at him when he’s workin’ the herd.”
Ned shrugged. “He don’t never drive cattle. He don’t do nothin’ but break horses. I could get a shot at him, but I’d have to be too damn close to the ranch to do it.”
Slater was not happy with the lack of results. “Dammit, Ned, you’re supposed to be the best gun hand I’ve got. Am I gonna have to send one of the other boys to do this one damn simple job?”
“That’s up to you, I reckon,” Ned replied evenly. He thought about the problem for a minute while they glowered at each other, then said, “Since bushwhackin’ don’t seem to be workin’, maybe I can just call him out—you know, in a fair fight. The way he wears that Colt, it don’t look like he uses it for anythin’ but killin’ snakes.”
“That might be the best way to do it at that,” Slater said, nodding slowly as he thought about it. He had never seen anyone faster with a gun than Ned Appling. “You can’t go to the ranch to do it, though. That would be too obvious. He’s bound to go into town sometime. You go on back to Deer Lodge and wait for him, but dammit, I ain’t payin’ for you to get drunk every night in the saloon.”
“Don’t worry. I aim to be sober when I’m workin’.” He stepped up in the saddle again, and turned his horse toward the barn. “I’ll start back first thing in the mornin’.” He could not understand Slater’s obsession with the Walker girl, but it was immaterial to him. He had killed men over smaller prizes, and it was the killing he enjoyed. There didn’t have to be a reason.
“Come on, Cade,” Red sang out when Cade walked in the bunkhouse door. “Let’s go to Sullivan’s and get us a drink of whiskey. It’s payday, and I don’t want no glass of beer—at least until after I’ve had my drink of whiskey.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Cade replied. It had been a while since he had had a drink. “Let me clean up a little bit.”
Several of the Bar-K hands were already at the rail in Sullivan’s Saloon when Cade and Red walked in. Seeing their friends at the end of the bar, the two made their way through the crowded room to join them. “Hey, Skunk,” one of the men called out, “what took you so long?”
“Some of us are civilized enough to wash a little of the cow shit offa us before we come to a fine establishment like Mr. Sullivan’s,” Red shot back, getting a wide grin from Dick Sullivan behind the bar.
“I see you brought Cade with you to carry you home,” another hand commented.
“That’ll likely be after we carry you home, Harvey,” Red returned, laughing good-naturedly.
“Well, hurry up and get drunk,” Harvey said. “We’re gonna have a card game in a little while.”
The playful banter went back and forth for a few minutes more between the cowhands from the Bar-K. Sipping his whiskey slowly, Cade remained an amused spectator while Red tossed his first shot back and tapped the bar with the empty glass to get Sullivan’s attention. The thought crossed his mind that Harvey might be right. At the rate Red was starting the evening, he might have to carry him home. The thought caused a fleeting memory of the times he had been called upon to carry Luke Tucker home after a night of drinking. He didn’t permit the thought to linger, however. He was not in a mood for guilty melancholy tonight.
In the back corner of the small barroom, another spectator watched the lighthearted kidding with more than casual interest. Unnoticed at a small table, Ned Appling sat, his fingers playing idly with his empty glass, his unblinking gaze focused on the quiet cowboy beside the redhead they called Skunk. He ain’t japing with the other men, he thought. Maybe he’s a little bit shy. The thought brought a baleful grin to his face. I’ll let him get a little more whiskey in him—slow him down a little. Taking a harder look at the Colt Peacemaker Cade wore, he could see that it was riding in the holster that evidently came with the weapon, nothing special about it. Ned decided the extra whiskey might not be necessary. He ain’t ever pulled that iron in a gunfight, he thought, and almost chuckled.
At Red’s insistence, Cade let Sullivan pour him another drink. Taking the glass in hand, he turned to watch Harvey and a couple of the boys pulling chairs up to a table to start the card game. “How ’bout you, Cade?” one of them asked.
“No thanks, Nate,” he replied, “I’ll just watch a while.” He was about to explain that he didn’t have much luck when it came to poker when his arm was suddenly jolted from behind, causing him to spill half of his drink. He turned to look into the smirking face of Ned Appling.
“You’re blockin’ the damn bar,” Ned growled. “How’s a man supposed to get a drink with you standin’ in the way?”
“Sorry,” Cade said, and moved farther down the bar. He recalled having seen the man before, but at the moment his thoughts were distracted by the card game just getting started, and he couldn’t place him.
Not to be denied a confrontation, Ned moved down the bar after Cade, and roughly shouldered him again. “By God, you just ain’t gonna get outta the way, are you?”
Cade turned to face Ned again, puzzled by the man’s behavior. He glanced at the open expanse of bar behind the menacing face. “Mister, nobody’s keepin’ you from orderin’ a drink that I can see. Why don’t you just go on about your business and leave me alone?”
“Who the hell do you think you are, you son of a bitch, tellin’ me where I can stand?” He stuck his face up close to Cade’s, taunting, his hand resting on the handle of his pistol.
Suddenly a wave of silence swept over the crowded room as the noisy patrons became aware of the incident unfolding at the bar. It came to him then. Cade remembered the man as the one who accompanied John Slater at the ranch. He had only seen him from a distance, but he was sure now that he was the same man.
Realizing what was taking place, Red stood up from the table. “Hold on there, Mister, you got no call to hassle Cade.”
Ned shot a q
uick glance in Red’s direction. “Set down, Skunk. This ain’t no affair of yours. This is between me and this son of a bitch tryin’ to hog the whole damn bar.”
His fuse lit, Red started forward, but Cade held out his hand to stop him, his whiskey glass still in the other hand. “Take it easy, Red. Sit back down and let me take care of it. I’ll talk to him.”
“Talk, hell!” Ned blurted. “I’m done talkin’. You’re wearin’ a gun. Now you’d best get ready to use it, or you’re gonna crawl outta here like the low-down coward you smell like.”
“Mister, for some reason, you think you’ve got a problem with me. S’pose you tell me what’s eatin’ at you. What is your real problem with me?” Cade asked, his voice calm and steady. “I’m thinkin’ John Slater has somethin’ to do with this.”
“I don’t give a damn what you’re thinkin’,” Appling bellowed. “If you don’t step back and draw that damn gun, I’ll shoot you down where you stand.” With his hand hovering over the handle of his pistol, he stepped back to give himself room.
Still somewhat amazed to find himself in this standoff, Cade quickly assessed the situation. A quick glance told him that he might be in real trouble—the way the man’s gun holster was slung to provide quick access, tied down to his leg, the holster itself, heavily oiled with a piece in the front cut away for minimum interference. Cade realized that this was his profession. Knowing he had no chance in a gunfight with Appling, he stepped after him as Ned backed away, crowding him. Pushing his face up close, Cade whispered loudly, “If you don’t turn around and get outta here, I’m gonna kick your ass.”
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