* * *
Since they owned the ranch, Vard and Alex felt free to ride across it. The distance was shorter, and it gave them a chance to get acquainted with the land they had bought and see some of their cattle.
Four cowboys with rifles across their saddles rode to intercept them, so Vard, Alex, and Cindy stopped and waited. The man acting as spokesman was about forty, tall, well-built, and sat straight in his saddle.
“My name is Kyle Coulter,” he said. “My job is to watch over these men and keep this ranch free of intruders. You’re on private property, and we’re going to have to take you to the ranch house and turn you over to our foreman.”
“Well, lead off,” Vard said. “That’s where we’re headed.” A ruggedly handsome man, a little bigger than the others and more forward in manner, rode up beside Kyle.
“Kyle,” he said, “you weren’t at the bunkhouse when these two men came by a few nights ago, and I don’t think you realize who you’re talking to. This is Vard Vanor and his son, Alex.” Glancing at Cindy, he said, “I don’t know the pretty young lady, but I’m going to try to remedy that.” Then looking quickly at Alex, he said, “No offense intended.”
“None taken; I think she’s pretty, too,” Alex replied, smiling.
Cindy was flattered by the compliment and looked from behind veiled eyes at the handsome man who had shown her so much interest. He was tall with muscular arms and legs, a little darker than usual. Under his black felt hat, his black hair curled around his ears, and his lips were full and sensuous. He looked at her as though he could see right through her clothing, and something about him excited her. She tossed her head haughtily. The good-looking cowboy looked directly into her eyes, smiled, and winked.
“You’re right, Raphe,” Kyle Coulter acknowledged. “I didn’t know that Mr. Vanor and his son were the men who came to the ranch.” Kyle then introduced Raphe. “This is Raphael Rojas. We call him Raphe. He’s a rogue and fancies himself a lady’s man.” Tipping his hat to the visitors, Kyle said, “I’m sorry if I spoke in haste. If you’ll allow me, I’ll escort you to see Mr. Fadden.”
“We’ll be glad to have your company, Mr. Coulter, and I’m glad to make your acquaintance,” Vard said, extending his hand. Then to Raphe and the other cowboys, Vard said, “I’ll be talking to the rest of you later today after we’ve talked to your foreman.”
As they all rode away, Alex noticed Cindy sneak another quick glance at Raphe. Raphe observed the glance and tipped his hat.
“Well, Cindy,” Alex said, “looks like you’ve found an admirer.”
Cindy looked down at her saddle horn and tried to hide her smile.
* * *
The ranch house sat on the banks of Cripple Creek. The creek provided water, and the trees that lined it provided cooling shade for the house and its surrounding buildings. The house was a large, rambling structure, built to accommodate a lot of people. It had a wide wraparound porch with two front doors that faced the barns and corrals.
Kyle went into the house to get the foreman, who was working at his desk. Frank Fadden came to the porch and greeted the visitors.
“Step down, folks, and welcome.” Turning to Kyle, Frank said, “Wait around, Kyle, we may want to talk to you later. You’ve been escorting the new owner of this ranch.”
“I’ll wait,” Kyle nodded. “I’m learning all sorts of things this morning,” and he rode to the corral.
“Come on in and make yourselves at home. After all, it’s your house now. Would you like to look around? I’ve cleaned it up a bit. I knew you’d be coming—but I didn’t know when.”
Vard introduced Cindy to Frank and then said, “Cindy, perhaps you’d like to explore the house while Alex and I talk to Mr. Fadden.”
Cindy dashed away in the direction she thought would be the kitchen. The house was surprisingly big, and Cindy wondered if Mr. Fadden had a wife and family.
“Mr. Vanor,” the foreman said, “call me Frank. It doesn’t seem right for my new boss to be calling me Mister. I’ll be moving out right away. I’ll move into the old shed behind the barn; I’m not married and don’t need a lot of room.”
“That’s one of the things we want to talk to you about. We’re hoping you’ll stay in the house and stay on as foreman. We have our own home at the mouth of Thunder Canyon, and we’ll stay there.”
Vard’s eyes revealed his curiosity as he examined Frank’s face. “How did you know that we bought the ranch?”
“Pete Cayman told me. He’s the foreman of the Flying W Ranch, and he’s a friend of mine. His boss, Hank Tyler, has been trying to buy the Bar H for years, but you beat him to it. Pete says that Hank is as mad as a long-horned bull that’s just been branded. I think you’ve made an enemy.”
“Why is Hank mad at me? I didn’t even know he wanted the ranch,” Vard responded. “Hank has been trying to buy the Bar H cheap,” Frank explained, “and you paid full price. He was expecting trouble with the men of the Bar H if he bought it, so he hired a couple of gunfighters. The gunfighters heard about Alex and came after him, thinking that if they beat him, everyone else would just cave in. Then they could collect their money from Tyler and ride back to Indian Territory. They found out what any of us who saw what happened to Tor and Carl could have told them—Alex is no pushover.”
Frank walked to the fireplace, lit a cigarette, and continued. “They tried to egg Alex into a gunfight on the streets of Timberland, but he ignored them.” Then he turned to Vard. “As you know, a few nights later they went to your place to test their skills. That was a mistake. To anyone who had seen Alex draw and shoot, that outcome was predictable. When Shorty came back with his partner Slim lying across his saddle, Tyler sent Shorty to Indian Territory to get Herv Hamlin. Hamlin has a reputation for being the fastest gun alive, and he costs a lot of money.”
Alex and Vard exchanged glances as Frank continued.
“I was a deputy in both Dodge and Abilene, and I’ve seen the best. Alex is the fastest man with a gun that I’ve ever seen. I doubt that Hamlin will go it alone with Alex. Hamlin's style is to contract to kill for a price and then hire back shooters to do the killing. Hank Tyler doesn’t care how Hamlin gets rid of you, just so long as he does it.”
Frank paused, frowned, and said, “Make no mistake, Mr. Vanor—it’s you that hank wants out of the way. He knows he has to get by Alex to get to you, and Hamlin would like to be known as the man who beat Alex, but Alex has beaten some good gunfighters already, and Hamlin doesn’t take chances. He rides with two killers. They’re not gunfighters—they’re just slobbery, demented trash, and they kill from ambush. No one can take them out because Hamlin protects them, and he protects them because they do his dirty work.”
“He sounds like a bad hombre, and Hamlin being on the scene may influence how you answer my question.” Vard studied Frank’s face. “Would you stay on as foreman and keep the cowboys you have?”
“I didn’t become foreman of one of the biggest spreads in Colorado by running from trouble, so my answer is yes, but I can’t speak for my men. I’ll have Kyle ride out and bring them in so you can talk to them. They’re not gunfighters, but I don’t think they’ll run from trouble.”
Frank stepped out on the porch. “Kyle,” he called out, “go bring the boys in. The new owner wants to talk to them.”
“All of them?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah! All of them.”
As they walked back into the house, they heard Kyle riding away at a gallop.
“It’ll take him a while to round them up. This is a big ranch, you know.”
“Kyle doesn’t look like a cowboy,” Vard said, canting his head in the direction of the departing rider.
“He isn’t a cowboy. He’s a retired cavalry officer who liked it in the West and stayed after the war. He came to me a while back looking for a job. He knows how to work with men, so I hired him and gave him a lead position. he keeps the boys in line while I tend to office matters.”
Frank paused an
d rubbed his stomach. “I’m getting hungry. I’ll have the cook whip up something to eat, and then I’ll show you around the place while we’re waiting for the men to come in. I’m sure you’d like to see the barns and the corrals.”
Cindy had come back from exploring the house and overheard Frank tell about the trouble he was expecting with the neighboring rancher. She knew from what was said that Alex was going to have to use his gun again, and she was trying to think of a way to prevent him from being killed—or having to kill someone again. She joined the men in their walk around the grounds.
When Frank went into the kitchen to talk to the cook, Vard pulled Alex aside. “Your mother has done a good job tutoring you, but maybe now would be a good time to go east and finish your education.”
“I can’t leave you to fight that Flying W bunch by yourself, Father,” Alex replied quietly. “I’ll spend a few hours each day practicing, and I’ll be ready for them.”
“Practicing won’t help much if you’re shot from ambush,” Vard commented.
“I’ve got some thoughts on that, too,” Alex added. “As you know, Cindy and I grew up with the Indian children, and we know their language. Those Indians know this country better than any white man alive, and if we allow them to scout our land and give them a cow once in a while, they’ll let us know if anyone is sneaking around. If I see those dry-gulchers before they see me, it’ll be a different story. Gray Wolf and Soaring Eagle are my closest friends, and they’re the best scouts in a tribe full of scouts. They took me with them into the mountains and taught me what they know about scouting, and they know a lot. They would be more than happy to help us and help their own people at the same time.”
“We can’t use Indians to fight for us,” Vard said. “That would violate the treaty and start a war. But they could scout for us, and that might make the difference.”
Frank rejoined them, and they completed their tour. The buildings consisted of a bunkhouse, a barn, a two-room cabin behind the barn, and extensive corrals. The odor of animals and hay left no doubt that this was a cattle ranch. When they returned to the front porch, Frank called the cook. “Cookie, set the table, and when the boys get here, they can sit wherever they can find a place.”
* * *
By the time they finished their meal, the cowboys started wandering in. Cindy was the main attraction. She sat on the couch near the fireplace between Raphe and Alex and pretended not to notice that all the men were staring at her.
Cindy kept sneaking quick glances at Raphe and couldn’t help comparing him with Alex. Alex and Raphe were about the same height, but Raphe was bigger, older, darker, and more muscular.
Most of the men had seen Alex and Vard when they had the shoot-out with Tor and Carl, and that made Cindy all the more interesting.
“I’m no gunfighter,” Alex overheard a shy cowboy say, “but I’d go hunting Tor myself if he soiled something that pretty.”
The young man he said it to nodded.
The room was nearly full of cowhands waiting to hear why they were called in. Vard made careful note of them as he stood by the fireplace so that everyone could see him while the foreman introduced him.
“Men,” Fadden began, “this is our new boss. His name is Vard Vanor. Some of you have seen him before and know him to be an honorable man. He has something to say, and I recommend that you listen closely.”
Vard was a man of stature, and something about his presence demanded attention. He pushed his slightly graying hair back from his eyes and looked at each man as he spoke clearly and firmly.
“Men, I own this ranch now, and I’m hoping that you’ll work for me. This is my son, Alex, and his friend, Cindy. Mr. Fadden will still be your foreman. The only thing that will change is who signs your paychecks. Each of you will get a ten percent increase in pay, beginning today, but before you agree to stay on, you should know that there may be trouble with the men of the Flying W. I’m not asking you to be gunfighters, but I’ll expect you to be loyal to the brand. If any of you have any questions, now is the time to get them answered.”
No one spoke, so Vard continued. “If you don’t feel comfortable asking questions here, Alex and I will talk to you in private. Now, with a show of hands, how many will stay?”
All but two raised their hands. One of the men who didn’t raise his hand said, “Some of the men working for the Flying W are friends of mine. I wouldn’t want to go against them with guns, and if I don’t support the Bar H, my friends here will think I’m a coward. What do you suggest?”
“I understand your concern, and I’m glad you asked the question,” Vard answered. “You’re exactly the kind of man I want on my ranch. You’re no coward. No man who voices his mind that clearly is a coward. To kill a man is a terrible thing, and we don’t want you to kill anyone. The only time a killing is justified is when the man is threatening your life or the life of someone you’re obliged to protect.”
Looking carefully at the man who had asked the question, Vard continued. “If your life is threatened, no one would blame you if you defended yourself, and I doubt that a true friend, regardless of where he worked, would threaten your life. . . . Does that answer your question?”
“It does, and I would be honored to work for you,” the man replied.
The other man who had refrained from holding up his hand said, “That goes for me, too.”
A man who seemed a little older than the rest was standing alone near the door. Something about him attracted Alex’s attention.
“Mr. Fadden,” Alex asked quietly, “who’s the man standing alone by the door? he seems kind of out of place.”
“His name is Garth Dunkard. he rode in on a big roan horse yesterday and asked for a job. I always need men, so I hired him. The guys don’t cotton to him much; maybe that’s why he’s standing alone.”
Alex made careful note of the man leaving before his father ended the meeting. Fadden turned to his crew. “Men, return to your duties.”
With Kyle Coulter leading, the men walked out smiling. They tipped their hat to Cindy, and she smiled in return. As Raphe Rojas was leaving, he also tipped his hat as his eyes met Cindy’s. Cindy knew he was going to try to get to know her better, and she felt a rush of excitement. Her breathing rate increased as she lowered her eyes and smiled.
* * *
After the last man was gone, Fadden said, “I knew they wouldn’t run.”
“You have a good crew,” Vard said. “I’ll be back tomorrow to go over the papers. I need to know more about the ranch. Eva, my wife, and our friends, Marl and Marian Nalor, will want to see the ranch as well, if you’ll be kind enough to show us around.”
“We can go by wagon, or if you wish, we can ride horses. I’ll have our wrangler saddle some for us. You have a fine remuda to choose from, but if the ladies want to use women’s saddles, they’ll have to bring their own. We’ve never before had a need for them.”
“Eva and Marian prefer Western saddles, and they’re both good riders. We’ll be here around mid-morning. Thank you, Frank.” Vard shook hands with Frank and then turned to Alex and Cindy. “Let’s go home. Eva will have supper ready.”
“Give me a moment,” Alex said. “I want to talk to Mr. Coulter.”
When he caught up with Kyle, Alex told him about the Indians who would be scouting the ranch and explained that they were authorized to take a few cows from time to time as payment. Alex then rushed back to join his father and Cindy, and they rode back across the ranch.
The cowboys waved as they passed. Raphe tipped his hat again and did a bow. One of the cowboys threw a rope on him and said, “Come on, Raphe, she’s already got a boyfriend who could whip your ass with one hand tied. I’ve noticed that he doesn’t even consider you to be competition.”
“That could be a mistake on his part,” Raphe muttered with a wry smile. “It’s not my ass that he needs to be concerned about. his girlfriend is ripe fruit, and I’m the man to pick it.”
“It’s your funeral,”
the cowboy replied. “I have to admit she’s ripe fruit. She even has the color of a ripe peach, and I would die for a little of that.”
Chapter 8
Cindy’s thoughts went back to how Raphe’s eyes had undressed her, and his look left no doubt that he was pleased by what he saw. She couldn’t resist the mischievous smile that crept onto her face as a thrill raced through her body by simply thinking about it.
To get home, they had to cross a canyon. While climbing the far side, a shot rang out, Cindy’s horse fell, and she landed in the brush. Her horse tried to get up, but the shot had broken its right hind leg. Alex leaped off his horse as he removed his rifle from its scabbard. Holding the reins of his horse, he ran to Cindy. Another shot knocked Vard’s hat into the air. Vard grabbed his rifle and dove for cover; his horse ran up the trail a ways and stopped.
“Is Cindy hurt?” Vard shouted.
Alex looked at Cindy, and she shook her head. “I don’t think so,” Alex yelled back. “Maybe a few scratches from the brush she fell into. She’s lost her horse, though. That first bullet broke its hind leg. Did you see where those shots came from?”
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