******
Drago walked to the window and peered out. No one. He’d thought he’d been followed, but then he always assumed he was being tracked. Over the years his face had been on and off of wanted posters more times than he could count but no one had ever been able to pin anything on him. Had come close, but nothing stuck. He’d kept a lower profile since working for Walsh, running the import business, a business he’d suggested.
“Sit down, Drago. You make me nervous pacing about,” Ira said and offered his guest a cheroot and light.
Drago took it as well as a seat across from Walsh. “Why’d you send for me?”
“I’ve got a situation that needs your attention.”
“Where?”
“Cold Creek, Colorado. West of here.”
“What’s it involve?” Drago took a draw from the square-cut cigar and let the smoke go in a long, slow breath.
“Persuasion.”
“Ah. And just who would I be persuading?”
“A young widow. We need her land for the timber operations we discussed.”
“Terms are up to me?”
“Of course,” Ira said, pleased Drago understood the job.
“When should I leave?”
“Tomorrow. Tonight supper and drinks are on me.” Ira crushed the last of the cheroot and stretched his legs out, satisfied that everything he wanted would soon be under his control.
Chapter Ten
Cold Creek, Colorado
Jeff rode up to the ranch house, dismounted, and stomped up the steps, throwing the door open in his haste to find Eloise. He was tired, dirty, and damn angry.
“Mrs. Bierdan, you here?” No answer. He walked through the main part of the house, calling once or twice more before heading toward the barn. He found her there, grooming her horse, preparing to ride out. She peered over her shoulder to see her foreman stalking toward her, anger flashing in his eyes.
“What is it, Jeff?”
“Cattle. About twenty head. Slaughtered.”
“What!” She dropped the brush and took a step backward, as if she’d been struck. “Where?”
“Up a canyon. Looks like they were herded in and slaughtered. Last night from what I can tell.”
“My God.” She placed a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stop the rising bile in her stomach. “Who would do such a thing?”
“It’s got to be the men who’ve been threatening you and Langdon. They’re determined to run you off, no matter the carnage.” Jeff took off his hat and ran a hand through his short hair. “I need to send someone to tell Frank. I don’t expect he can do much, but he needs to know. Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone. Stay in the house and have a rifle ready. I’ll send Clint and Stan up to keep watch before I leave.”
Eloise heard the words but could only nod. It was so confusing. She was just a woman who wanted to run a ranch, build a life, and live in peace. It’s all she’d ever wanted. But now someone was determined to destroy her dreams. The realization galvanized her. She would not be backed into a corner—not ever again.
She straightened and walked with purpose into the house toward the gun cabinet. She removed Gordon’s rifle as well as the one he’d bought for her, four pistols, and her shotgun. She stacked them up then proceeded to pull out ammunition and load each one. When finished, she placed a rifle and pistol in the study, the shotgun and two more pistols in the front living area, the last handgun in the kitchen, and her rifle in the bedroom. Eloise then poured a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table to wait, and think.
******
Denver, Colorado
Ira watched the two new men from his position on the balcony. He’d seen both in the saloon—one several times over the past few weeks, the second man just one other time. Walsh wondered how Conner knew these men and how he’d come to hire them on such short notice. Well, he couldn’t dwell on it. There were other urgent matters that required his attention.
Ira returned to his office and the latest reports he’d received on the opium delivery. It would move from Victoria, British Columbia through northern Washington, with final delivery to Walsh’s business partner in San Francisco. He’d make three times the money he’d paid the supplier for the addicting drug. From San Francisco, smaller amounts would make their way to other western towns with a final delivery of one hundred pounds in Denver. That delivery would not be resold.
Drago had convinced him to enter this business, saying it would make them both rich, and he’d been right. This had been a standing order for two years, but their next order was for three times the normal amount he ordered from his Victoria supplier. Requests for opium—known to his buyers as joy plant—increased each month in San Francisco, plus new buyers in the city had shown a strong interest in his merchandise.
As always, keeping his involvement quiet was essential. That’s why Drago’s presence was necessary. They’d grown up together on the streets of New York, both immigrants and both with different skills. They’d stayed in touch and it had benefited both men over the years. Drago was the only person Ira trusted without hesitation.
Ira needed to retain his cover as a legitimate businessman to obtain the financing needed to grow this business and others. So far he’d been successful, but his instincts told him something was amiss. Nothing jumped out as being inconsistent and no one had drawn his attention, but Ira hadn’t gotten where he was by ignoring his gut feelings. They’d saved him more than once from making a mistake and trusting the wrong men. He’d be extra cautious until he discovered what continued to eat at him or the suspicions went away. Trust no one had been his motto most of his life and there was no reason to change it now.
******
“Wake up, Mr. MacLaren. Miss Tess needs you out in the barn.” Jericho stood over the bed with Drew’s chair close at hand. It was after midnight, but with Grant and Eleanor staying with friends on the other side of Cold Creek, he thought it best to wake his boss.
Drew shook his head as he used his arms for leverage and pushed his body into a sitting position. “What is it? Has something happened?”
“There’s a foal on the way and Miss Tess needs your help.”
“How does she think I can help her? She should have Jake or one of the other hands by her side.”
“She’s been out there a while and is quite insistent. You’re the one she wants.” Jericho crossed thick arms over his massive chest and waited for MacLaren. His boss could sometimes be one stubborn blockhead.
“Alright. But I’m not sure what she thinks I can do.”
It wasn’t long before Drew and Jericho entered the barn and moved toward the back stall. Tess was on her knees, trying to reassure a frightened mare who was already on her side, lathered, and breathing hard. One of the hands, a young man not more than sixteen, stood at the side of the stall, unsure of his role.
“What can I do, Tess?” Drew asked in a soft voice.
“She’s been working for over an hour, but I can’t see enough to tell if the foal is okay or breech. One of us needs to calm her while the other watches for the birth sac. Mr. Jericho, I may need you to help us.”
The big man nodded.
“You too.” Tess looked at the young ranch hand.
“Mr. Jericho, you’ll help me with the birth sac while Tess keeps her calm.” Drew looked up to see that Jericho’s eyes had grown as wide as saucers. “Have you ever done this before?” Drew asked the man who stood immobile beside him.
“Never.”
“Well, then, you’re in for an experience.” Drew pushed up from his seat and positioned himself to lower his body to the straw covered floor at the mare’s back. He didn’t want to be caught if she started to kick. “Grab that bench over there and position it behind me for leverage.”
Once on the ground, he moved his legs to where he wanted them, and ran his large hand down the mare’s back and over her hips. Drew lifted her tail. It was soaked but very little of the sac showed. While he worked, Tess continued to coach the
mare, talking in a calm voice, stroking her neck.
Drew had seen times, not many, where mares had become so exhausted that they couldn’t push further, their strength gone. In those cases severe measures had to be taken to save the foal, but he didn’t believe this would be one of those times. He watched the mare’s eyes. They weren’t panic-stricken. It was the calm she displayed that made Drew think it would be okay.
Without warning the mare reared her head, snorted several times, and pushed. A few inches of the birth sac appeared. Drew saw hooves, but not the head. The mare pushed one, two more times, and this time the head was visible.
“It’s not breech, Tess. I think we may be good. Let’s see how much this mare wants to see her baby.”
Within twenty minutes there was a new colt in the Taylor stable and one very tired mare. There were also four people who felt a sense of joy at what they’d seen.
Tess looked around the stable at the colt and the men who’d helped with his birth. Her smile was radiant, creating a wave of heat that melted Drew’s heart. She threw her arms around his neck, surprising him with a warm hug.
“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear before placing a quick kiss on his check and pushing away.
He wanted to tug her back into his embrace, but now wasn’t the time.
Drew knew his calling was to breed horses, had been his whole life, but he’d needed the education and distance from his family to accept it. He’d been fortunate to be selected by Dunnigan for the opportunity in Denver. His legal skills had increased and he’d had access to the best resources available. But when he’d come to help his twin brother, Will, find the killer who’d murdered his brother’s wife, it was like coming home.
And there’d been Tess.
It had taken just days for him to realize that if he ever did return to ranching, she was the type of woman he’d want beside him. Hell, she was the only woman he wanted beside him. Then the shooting. But tonight, working with Tess to deliver the foal made him realize that, no matter what, he had to return home to Fire Mountain. Preferably with Tess by his side.
******
“What do you mean, the prisoner’s dead?” Frank stormed into the jail after Deputy Eddy O’Dell found him at home, getting his son, Aaron, off to school. Frank and Aaron had been living in town for a few months, and it had been the best months of their lives—until now. He’d thought the threats to Cold Creek were over after Bierdan’s death and the arrest of his gang of rustlers. He’d been wrong.
“Found him like this when I went back to deliver his breakfast.” Eddy pointed to the body lying on the cell floor, his throat cut. “I was gone a few minutes to get his food. He was fine when I left.”
“Did you lock the door?”
“Yes, sir, just like you told me.” Eddy was visibly shaken. He’d been a new deputy when the previous sheriff went missing—his whereabouts were still a mystery. Although O’Dell had helped with the cleanup after the rustlers had been apprehended, this was the closest he’d come to seeing a murder.
“Son of a ...” Frank walked into the cell and turned the body over. No other marks. “They were watching for you to leave. Whoever did this didn’t try to break him out. They were here for one reason only. To kill our prisoner. Silence him.”
“But he just roughed up a couple of men, Sheriff. Why kill him?”
“From what I know, these men are out to intimidate ranchers into selling, leaving the area. Men like him,” Frank nodded at the body on the floor, “are the instrument of their boss. When they cease to be of value, or could be a witness against him, they’re killed. This is no small game, Deputy.”
“I’ll get a wagon and take the body to Doc Wheaton. Anything else you want me to do?” Eddy asked.
“Come back here after you deliver the body to Doc. I need to ride out to the Bierdan ranch and let them know what happened. The situation just got a lot more serious.”
******
“Murdered?” Eloise whispered. She knew the men were dangerous, but to murder someone—one of their own—signaled a danger that was hard to comprehend.
“Did Eddy see anyone?” Jeff had joined them as soon as Frank rode up. The stern expression on the sheriff’s face let the foreman know that this was no social call.
“No one. It happened when Eddy left to pick up Vern’s breakfast. He was gone a few minutes.”
“So they were watching.” It was a statement, not a question.
“That’s what I think.” Frank turned back to Eloise. He hated to cause the young widow more worry. She’d dealt with a lot since Gordon had died, and now this. He knew her financial condition was weak but he admired her determination to make a go of it with little experience and few men. “Can you afford to hire more men?”
“I don’t see how that’s possible. I can just make the payroll now.” She looked around the room. “I suppose I can try to sell more furniture. Maybe there’s some unused tack in the barn….” Her voice drifted as her mind worked the consequences of this latest news.
Jeff and Frank glanced at each other. Both knew she had few options.
“You have some other possibilities that might help save the ranch,” Frank offered in a cautious tone. He knew her well enough to understand that pride was one of the few possessions she had left. He didn’t intend to damage it.
“Other than selling? I don’t see that I have other choices.”
“Have you thought about offering some of your land to other ranches to graze their cattle? Maybe bringing in a partner?”
“Maybe a partner, but you know how little good grazing land I have, Sheriff. There’s little left to offer once my cattle have gotten what they need.” She looked at her foreman. “Jeff, what do you think?”
“You’re right about the pasture land. There’s not much we don’t use.” His soft southern drawl seemed to calm the room. “But a partner? That might work for you. Someone who knows ranching, has connections in the area, and money.”
The room fell silent as Eloise considered her options. She stood and walked to the window to gaze out at the ranch her husband had built. It had never been her intention to sell or bring in a partner. When he had died, she’d envisioned expanding the ranch, adding land and more cattle. Then she’d seen the financial state her husband had left her in and knew her dreams would be hard, if not impossible, to realize.
“I’ll consider a partner. Either of the Denver businessmen may be interested in that rather than buying it outright.” She referred to Ira Walsh and Louis Dunnigan. At this point she had no preference. Eloise turned back to the men. “Do either of you have thoughts on someone local?”
“There’s always Grant Taylor. His land butts against yours and he’s expressed an interest in expanding. Not sure why he’s remained silent,” Frank said.
Eloise thought she knew. Grant and Gordon had been partners when they’d started years ago. A rift had developed and the men split up, but her husband had always thought he’d been cheated. It was Grant’s bullet that had killed Gordon. She didn’t hold it against him—he’d had no choice.
“You’re right. I should speak with him and the bank manager. He may have ideas, also.” Her voice resigned, she walked to the coffee pot that sat on a nearby table and filled each of the men’s cups again.
“The issue now is your safety until a solution is found. Let me ask around in town and see if there are any men willing to work for food and a place to live, maybe a small monthly pay. They may not have much ranch experience, but if they’re good with a gun it could be worth having extra people around.” Frank knew of a couple of young men down on their luck who might jump at such an offer.
“I’d appreciate that. And thank you for coming here to warn us. We’ll work it out, I’m sure of it.” Eloise tried to keep a positive tone, but her broken voice betrayed her attempts.
“It’s my job, Mrs. Bierdan. Can’t say it’s a pleasure to deliver warnings, but it’s part of what I do. Let me know if you or your men experience any other
instances, or see that Luther fellow. I sure would like to find that man.”
So would I, Jeff thought as the sheriff left. So would I.
******
Pierce watched his new boss work his way around the crowded saloon. Connor had come to him a few days before, offering work at the Denver Rose, and he’d accepted. A man could always use a few more dollars.
Pierce wasn’t surprised that Connor had been detained in his journey around the large room several times by different women who worked for him. Each fawned over the handsome man but he extricated himself each time with a soft spoken phrase or subtle remark. He was all business.
Connor made his way toward Pierce and stopped.
“Pierce,” Connor acknowledged his new employee.
“Connor.”
“You look like you have a comment you want to make.” Their eyes met briefly, then Connor’s eyes moved back to the crowd.
Pierce wondered what had given him away. “Just wondering how a man keeps his sanity—says no—when surrounded by women offering themselves to him at every opportunity.”
Connor’s slight chuckle surprised Pierce. “Who says I always say no?”
The admission surprised Pierce. “Well, it’s good to know the man many consider a cold-hearted bastard actually does have blood in his veins. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see a fight brewing.” He nodded in the direction of a table where the level of conversation had risen over the last few minutes.
Connor watched him walk across the room, still surprised at the comment Pierce had made. He knew many thought of him as cold, unbending, and they were right. There wasn’t much place in his life for weakness or lack of conviction. A sharp crack turned Connor’s attention to the table where Pierce now stood holding the barrel of his gun and looking at a man on the floor. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.
“Nelson, help Pierce escort him outside and order a round of drinks for those left at the table,” Connor ordered. Nelson was the other man he’d hired to replace those Ira had riding to Cold Creek. Nelson had been coming to the bar each week for quite a while looking for work. Said he’d do whatever was needed if a job was available. Connor knew him to be fast with a gun and slow to anger—both traits Connor admired.
Stronger Than the Rest Page 9