The 8th Western Novel

by Dean Owen

  “Like I said, you don’t owe me nothin’.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But I owe something to Marcy.”

  For an instant there was a steel-bright glitter in Stallart’s eyes. Then it was gone.

  “I admire her. I respect her,” Rim went on. “If I don’t take hold now she’ll have nothing. She doesn’t deserve that, Bert.”

  “You had your chance,” Stallart said. “Why didn’t you let Jellick finish me? Then you and Marcy—”

  “She still loves you, Bert. Though God only knows why after the way you’ve treated her.”

  “The favor I asked, Rim. Tie me to a saddle. Tie a gun to my hand. Take me to Jellick.”

  “You couldn’t set a saddle straight, no matter how much tying a man did.”

  “I just want to live long enough to kill him.”

  “We had a lot of chances for that, Bert,” Rim said. “After he killed Simpson. Especially after he killed Willie and the others.”

  “If I die then you and Marcy—”

  “That’s enough, Bert.”

  “A thing happens to a man once in his life. Then it’s easier to believe if you think it happens again.”

  Moisture lay in deep trenches on Stallart’s weathered forehead, sparkled at the ends of his mustache. In the distance was the clatter of an approaching wagon.

  “Let’s finish it, Bert,” Rim said. “What happened between you and Jellick back in Kansas?”

  The cords in Stallart’s throat tightened as he swallowed. “It ain’t an easy thing to tell.”

  “Your damn foolishness is going to ruin the life of a fine woman. Think of her if not of yourself.”

  “Any way it turns out, Rim,” Stallart said weakly, “me and Marcy are done.”

  “Let her decide that.”

  Stallart turned his head, looking toward the brushy slope. “How you reckon she’ll feel when she knows I killed my own brother. Shot him dead eight years back.”

  “Your brother Paul. Ellamae’s father.”

  “It’s why I wanted to do something for the gal. But she—she’s just like Paul was. Layin’ with a man and gettin’ herself a bastard.”

  “I imagine she’s paid for that in more ways than one.”

  “Ellamae’s ma died when the gal was just a kid. Paul left Ellamae with a woman in Joplin to raise. So far as I know Ellamae figured this Aunt Rose was her real kin. After Paul died I paid the woman for Ellamae’s keep. But last year this woman died and Ellamae kept writing me and wanting to come out. But I held off because seein’ her would remind me of what I done to her pa. But then she wrote that she had to come—”

  “And Jellick knows you killed your brother?”

  “Yeah. I was married to a woman Jellick used to run around with. I was doin’ right well. But it was when the war come along and there was trouble in Kansas and I was gone a lot. Paul come to visit me. I—I come home one night—They was foolin’ together. I beat Paul up and he got a gun and we fought over it. The gun went off.”

  “And your wife?”

  “She—she run away. She told Jellick about it. Jellick owned a saloon then.” Stallart clenched his hands. “She died of cholera that same year.”

  Rim wiped off the beading of perspiration from Stallart’s forehead with a bandanna. “And you came here and tried to build a new life.”

  “Everybody back in Kansas liked Paul. He was that kind of a fella. Bought drinks, always had a good story to tell. They hated me for killin’ him. Never no mind that he broke up my home. He was my brother.” Stallart groaned and there was a flash of pain in his eyes. “The sheriff come for me and they had a trial and they was goin’ to hang me at sunrise. I busted outa jail—”

  “Jellick trailed you here?”

  “He come through LaVentana last year with a freight outfit. I didn’t figure he seen me. But then he comes back and tells me he wants a job and I hire him on as hoss breaker. And it was a little before that when Eric Ward starts his outfit and tries to tell me he knows all about what happened in Kansas. I got scared as hell. Nobody wants to hang.”

  “When Jellick started spreading his poison about Marcy and me—Well, you should have considered the source.”

  “One woman goes bad on you and you’ll believe most anything.”

  “But believing Jellick.” Rim shook his head. “Bert, you should have told me this before.”

  “I’m a dead man, Rim. All Jellick and Ward have to do is get word to Kansas. But I’d rather all my blood leaked out on the ground right here than go back to Kansas and die at the end of a rope.”

  “So Ward and Jellick just figured to help themselves to Anchor Bar cows whenever they felt like it.”

  “They said they’d settle for a thousand head. Two hundred at a time. They took the first bunch and I give ’em a bill-of-sale and Willie went after ’em—”

  “They’d never stop at a thousand head. They’d keep on until they drained Anchor of everything on four feet.”

  “Yeah.” Stallart looked up at him, and there was a grayness now about the mouth. “It’s why I wanted a good foreman, a good partner, Rim. I had to trail cows to Kansas. But I couldn’t go myself. I had to have somebody I could trust.”

  “Sure, Bert.” Rim got to his feet. “Here comes the wagon.”

  When Stallart was placed on a pile of blankets the wagon moved on up the road, the team straining against their harness.

  “What you aim to do, Rim?” Ed Rule said.

  “I aim,” Rim said, “to take a double rope and hang Meade Jellick. I aim to hang Eric Ward beside him.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  April looked around the small, poorly-furnished room. This wasn’t her brother’s place. It couldn’t be. There were cracks in the wall and she could see daylight; and a small scurrying animal drifted in, flashed across the room and disappeared into another crack. She shuddered and clenched her fists. Through the dirty window that was broken and made tight by a rag stuffed into the opening, she could see two men in the yard. They were tough-looking and not at all as she pictured Eric’s crew to be.

  It seemed that she waited hours before hearing the sound of horses. She went to the door and looked out and saw Eric and a one-eyed man come up the steep road on lathered horses.

  Eric saw her step from the house. He dismounted and came across the yard. He didn’t seem particularly glad to see her and she felt a moment of disillusionment. And worse, she felt unwanted.

  “This is rather a surprise,” Eric said coldly. He didn’t kiss her cheek or shake her hand or embrace her. He just took her by the arm and led her back into the house and closed the door. “Just what in the world possessed you to make the trip out here?”

  “You wrote that you wanted me. I just thought—”

  “But I wanted you later.” As he paced the uneven floor she saw dust puff up from the loose boards under his feet. He turned, eying her. “I think you’re presumptuous to take this on yourself. This trip, and unchaperoned—”

  “You told me you wanted me to learn self-reliance,” she said. “You paid for my education at the Holendale Academy. They specialize in teaching young ladies self—”

  “I know, I know.” He put a hand to his face and stared darkly out the window. “How long have you been in town?”

  She told him and he gave a great sigh of exasperation. “Why in the world didn’t you go to the sheriff?” he demanded. “Or some other responsible person and have them send someone to let me know?”

  “This man who said his name was Tyler. He was in the hotel lobby and I heard him say he worked for you. I asked him to take a message to you.” The shoulders under the green traveling dress shrugged. “But when you didn’t come I asked someone and they said this Tut Tyler had been drunk and never left town. So I hired a buggy and came myself with a man from the livery stable.”

  “
Well, you used poor judgment in trusting Tyler.”

  “I’d like to know why,” she said, her gray eyes studying the handsome face—a little drawn now—of this man who was her only living relative. That he had been good to her she couldn’t deny. When their father died he sent her to the academy and provided her with enough money so she could live in the style demanded by a student in the school. She tried to explain to him now that she didn’t want the useless life of a lady. She wanted to live in stimulating country such as this. Couldn’t he understand that?

  No, he couldn’t understand it at all. “You’ll have to return to town,” Eric Ward said shortly.

  She went to him, her skirts dragging on the dusty floor. “Eric, are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “No. I’m just put out that you’d take it upon yourself to make this trip without advising me beforehand.”

  “Eric, I have no one in the world but you. I thought we should be together. Why wait until you brought a herd to Kansas? Why not now? Life is so short. We both know that.”

  “Just what in the world do you think you can do here?” His voice was rough.

  A flush of anger touched her cheeks. “I thought I could cook for you. Keep house. But if you don’t want me—”

  “Keep house in a place like this?” he demanded.

  “I’ll admit it isn’t exactly as you pictured it.”

  “No, I suppose not,” he said, lowering his voice. “This is only temporary headquarters. I—I’m negotiating for another ranch. I didn’t want you to come until I had need for you.”

  “And just when would you need me?” she said thinly.

  “I intend courting a widow. When the time is right I want you to meet her, to become friends. She is a lady and so are you. I hope. I’ve spent enough on your education to make you one.”

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly. “I thought you sent me to the academy for other reasons. I didn’t know I was supposed to act as an intermediary in your romances—”

  “That’s enough. You don’t know anything about it, so don’t try and guess. The thing to do now is get you back to town.”

  “Why not introduce me to this widow now?”

  “Because she isn’t a widow yet—”

  “I thought so.” She stood with hands clasped under her breasts, watching this man she hardly knew.

  “Just what in hell did you mean by that?”

  “No need to curse,” she said. “You’re going to kill this woman’s husband, aren’t you?”

  “No. And what gave you that idea?”

  “I heard many stories about you, Eric. Why you left St. Louis suddenly—”

  “You believe gossip about your brother?” he said, and tried to smile.

  “They say you cheated at cards. That you’re a gunman.”

  “You were willing enough to take that sort of money for your education,” he reminded.

  “I didn’t know about it then. Not until I was through at the academy.”

  “Any man who wins at cards is called a cheat by those who lose,” he said, obviously fighting to control his voice. “As for being a gunman—” He shrugged. “I’m fortunate enough to possess a certain talent of sorts. Otherwise, I would be dead.”

  “And I also heard gossip in LaVentana. When I would sit in the hotel lobby. People didn’t know who I was and I would hear them talk. They like you, Eric. And you have charm, I know that. I’ve seen you use it. But they’re worried.”

  “Worried because a man named Bert Stallart owes me money and—”

  “Is it Mrs. Stallart who is to be the widow you will court?”

  “If you must know, yes.”

  “They say she is quite handsome. They worry because of a possible range war between your ranch and the Stallart’s.”

  “Nonsense. It’s Stallart’s doings. His and that thief foreman of his, Rim Bolden.”

  “Let me tell you about Rim Bolden,” she said.

  “You know him?” Eric Ward asked his sister in surprise.

  She told of witnessing the historic fight on her way to LaVentana. “He whipped this giant of a man.”

  “And he’ll die for it. Jellick will kill him. And as long as we’re on the subject, Jellick will also kill Stallart. I’ll have nothing to do with it. As a matter of fact,” he added quietly, “Stallart is probably already dead.”

  “Then this Meade Jellick does work for you,” April said. “It’s one thing I didn’t believe. That my brother would hire a man like that.”

  “One thing you’ve got to realize, April. This isn’t St. Louis. This is tough country. You fight fire with fire. Stallart has Rim Bolden. I have Jellick. It adds up to the same thing, no matter how Bolden may have impressed you.”

  “He’s a gentleman. I remember he reacted strangely when I said you were my brother.”

  “No wonder,” he said, watching her closely. “He’s my enemy.”

  “Eric, just what sort of a game are you playing here?”

  “A game that can make us both rich, April. You might as well realize one fact. Since the war things have changed. There are no longer any decent values in life. A man makes his own way with his wits.”

  “And with his gun.”

  “If you want to put it that way, yes. It’s defend yourself or be buried. As simple as that.”

  “I don’t think the world has changed so much since the war. I intend to raise my children in this world—”

  “You’ll be married in time,” he said abruptly, “to someone I select.”

  “So that’s the reason for your great care to have me educated at the academy. You want to use me as a pawn.”

  “I want you to marry well. If your marriage benefits us both in a political way, for instance, what is the harm of that?”

  “I appreciate what you’ve done for me, Eric, but—”

  “Then show your gratitude by going back to town and staying there until this is over. Better yet, I’ll send you down to Mesilla.”

  “So I’ll be comfortably out of the way when you start this bloody business against your neighbor Stallart.” She hesitated, adding, “And his foreman.”

  He gave her a sharp, speculative look. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for this Rim Bolden.”

  She looked away. “I didn’t say I had. I only know this that if I had to choose impartially between your men and Stallart’s, I’d take the latter.”

  “I see the academy gave you a special course in insolence.”

  “The academy taught me to think for myself. To stand up for myself.”

  “You’ll do what I tell you, and no nonsense.”

  “I’m not a chattel, Eric. Just because we’re related is no reason for you to assume as much.”

  She got no chance to pursue the subject further because at that moment she saw Meade Jellick come into the yard on a big horse with an ugly wound across a foreleg. Even though the animal was hurt she could see that Jellick had used the spurs unmercifully. Her half-brother went out to meet him, looking worried all of a sudden. April came to stand in the doorway, trying to overhear.

  They talked earnestly and once she caught the name of Rim Bolden. She noted with satisfaction that Jellick still bore the marks of his fight with Bolden. There were bruises on his face, his eyes were still swollen. Around his head was a dirty, bloodied bandage.

  Eric Ward said loudly, “Damn it, Meade, why did you have to let your private hatred of Stallart nearly ruin things? I told you we had him if we just kept our wits. You got mixed up with his niece and—”

  “Stallart took a woman away from me once. I ain’t forgot.”

  “Forget Kansas.”

  “He also busted a bottle over my head.” Jellick paused, then added, “I’ll also get the other fella that hit me, Eric, sure as hell I will.”

  “Well, it wasn’t me.�
�

  “Maybe not.” Then Jellick, catching sight of April in the doorway whispered something to Ward.

  Ward came toward the house and Jellick hurried down to the corral for a fresh horse.

  “Maybe you’ll be happy to learn,” Ward said when he took her back inside, “that your friend Rim Bolden and Stallart jumped some of my boys. Bolden killed two of them. Stallart is dead. But Bolden got away.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said, and felt the blood leave her face.

  “I don’t expect you to. You’ve turned against your own kin. Remember the man you gave the message to? Tut Tyler? He’s one of them. Bolden’s hated him ever since Tyler couldn’t stomach his high-handed ways and came to work for me. Bolden saw his chance to kill him and he did.”

  She stood stiffly, not knowing what she could say.

  Eric said, “Just so you’ll see that I’m not quite the gunman you seem to think I am, we’re bringing the sheriff into this. Letting him settle it. You’re coming to town with us.”

  “I—”

  “Can you ride a horse?”

  “A little. Sidesaddle.”

  “We don’t have a sidesaddle. Nor a wagon. You’ll have to ride the best way you can. We’ll move slowly.”

  “But this dress—I can’t straddle a horse like a man.”

  “My dear April, if you had waited to come out when I sent for you, all these civilized comforts, so to speak, would have been provided. But under the circumstances, you’ll just have to make the best of it.”

  Eric helped her into the saddle of a small gray horse and she flushed when her skirts climbed halfway up her legs, exposing her limbs. She saw Eric glaring at the men who glanced at her. The men rode out ahead.

  Meade Jellick said, “Ma’am, I busted that hoss myself. He’ll be gentle.”

  She did not answer.

  Eric, riding at her side, kept looking back toward the timbered ridges. At last he said, “We’ll have to hurry it up.”

  She looked back and saw what had concerned him—a distant spiral of dust that seemed to be moving toward the ranch headquarters they had just left.

  They increased their pace and she had a hard time staying aboard. Eric was sweating, looking worried. But she couldn’t think of much else, only retaining her seat on this “gentle” horse. It seemed to move with an ungainly stride, not like the sleek purebreds she’d ridden sidesaddle at the academy. She was forced to cling to the saddle horn with both hands and once she dropped the reins and they dangled about the gray’s forelegs. He shied and she nearly fell. Eric, cutting in close, brought the horse under control.