A rider on a piebald straightened and lowered his right hand close to his holster. Of middling height, he wore a high-crowned hat and a vest fringed with silver studs. His clothes were typical work clothes, but there was nothing typical about his nickel-plated Hopkins & Allen revolver with ivory grips. “Want me to deal with this kid, Mr. Montfort?”
Before Montfort could answer, Chancy laughed and said, “Oh, my. A gun shark. Should I tremble in fear?”
Lin jumped in with, “Don’t provoke them, Chancy.”
“Chancy?” the rider said, his eyebrows meeting over his nose. “I have heard that name somewhere.”
Seth Montfort swiveled at the hips. “When I want your assistance, Mr. Stone, I will ask for it. Until I do, kindly refrain from interfering.”
Etta June motioned at Montfort’s men. “What is this, Seth? You have a lot of new faces with you, as well.”
“I have been hiring hands too,” Montfort said.
“So I hear. Word is, they know more about guns than they do about cows. What would you need with men like this?”
“They are for my own protection, my dear.”
“From whom?” Etta June asked skeptically. “Indians? You already had enough punchers to deal with them. You did not need to bring in a tie-down crowd.”
Montfort sniffed and smoothed a sleeve on his jacket. “Red savages do not worry me any. I am concerned about the rustlers.”
Etta June sat up. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Some of my cattle have gone missing. Granted, it is only a few head so far. But if I do not nip it in the bud, there is no telling how many I will lose. I will not stand for that.”
“Where did these rustlers come from?” Etta June asked.
“I never said they were outsiders. In fact, I have reason to believe one of your neighbors is involved. We followed tracks in the direction of his ranch but lost them. I just paid him and his family a visit. He denies it, of course, but he does not fool me.”
“Family?” Etta June said. “Dear Lord. You must mean the Dixons.”
“I do.”
“Are you loco? Cody is one of the most honest souls I know. The same with Patricia. To even suggest they would stoop to stealing your cattle when they have more than enough of their own is preposterous.”
Seth Montfort lifted his reins. “Think what you will, but the facts speak for themselves. I have warned Dixon that if any more of my cattle disappear, I will hold him to account.”
“Can we talk about this?” Etta June requested. “How about if I have you over to my place for supper tomorrow? About seven?”
“I would be honored,” Montfort said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must arrange to have a letter mailed.” He smiled, then clucked to his roan and rode off toward the settlement. Some of his men gave Lin and Chancy looks of outright contempt.
“I don’t like that hombre,” Chancy declared.
Neither did Lin. But he owed it to his employer to be civil. “Are you all right?” he asked, noticing worry lines that etched her face.
“No, I am not,” Etta June said, twisting in the seat to stare after the knot of horsemen. “I have an awful premonition.”
“About what?”
“Comments Seth Montfort has dropped over the past six months or so. Little things I did not think much of at the time. But now I see they were not so little, after all.”
“You are making no kind of sense,” Chancy said.
“I pray I am wrong,” Etta June said. “For if I’m not, before long these mountains will run red with blood.”
Chapter 5
Tom Cather had done things right. In addition to the ranch house, he had built a stable with an attached corral, a blacksmith shop, a chicken coop and a number of sheds. Modest in comparison to some spreads, the log structures were as solid as rock. The ranch was not situated near a stream as Lin had expected, but near a small lake.
“The Big Horns are home to a lot of lakes,” Etta June said when he brought it up. “Unlike some of the streams, they do not dry up in the summer.”
The buildings were situated at the east end of a valley that meandered along the base of steep wooded slopes. At the west end a high peak glistened white with snow.
Cattle were scattered throughout the valley. Some had even strayed up into the timber.
“You will have your work cut out for you,” Etta June informed them.
As the buckboard rattled past the corral, the front door to the house flew open, and out ran a pair of sandy-haired youngsters. Squealing with delight, shouting, “Ma! Ma!” they raced to meet her. The boy was lanky, his limbs more bone than muscle. The girl had an uncommon amount of freckles and wore her hair in a braid.
Etta June brought the buckboard to a stop and jumped down. Sinking to a knee, she spread her arms wide. Her children practically hurled themselves at her and clasped her to them as if afraid she would get back up and leave again.
“We missed you, Ma!” the little girl squealed in delight. “We missed you so much!”
“It has only been a few days,” Etta June said, and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “What will you do if I ever have to go away for a week or more?”
“Don’t ever do that, Ma,” the boy said. His chin on her shoulder, he closed his eyes. “We heard a wolf near the house last night and sissy got scared.”
“I did not,” the girl said.
Etta June rose. Holding them to her, she smiled. “These two are my reasons for living. Tom Jr. is my oldest, Elizabeth my youngest. We have taken to calling her Beth for short.” She introduced Lin and Chancy and explained why she had brought them.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” Lin said formally.
“I will be pleased so long as you leave me be,” Chancy said, dismounting. “I do not like kids.”
“Why?” Beth asked.
“I would like to know too,” Tom said.
“Because all your kind do is pester people with questions,” Chancy said. “If you have a question to ask me, ask it a year from now.”
“You might not even be here,” Tom said.
“Then you can ask whoever is.”
Beth giggled and whispered in her mother’s ear.
“She says she likes you,” Etta June relayed.
Chancy muttered under his breath, then announced, “I will tend to my animal.” He led his zebra dun away.
Beth immediately ran after him.
“Go with her,” Etta June said to Tom. “Don’t let her make a nuisance of herself.”
Lin swung his leg over his saddle horn and slid down. “You have fine young ones.”
“That I do,” Etta June proudly agreed. “I was not joking when I said they are my reason for living. I only pray I can do half as well by them as my husband and I planned.”
“They are lucky to have someone who cares for them so much.” Lin was thinking of his own mother, and how she had been toward the end.
“What a kind thing to say.”
Lin coughed. “So where do you want us to start? I saw a broke corral rail. We could put in a new one.”
“That can wait,” Etta June said. “Take the rest of the day off.”
“But you brought us here to work.” Lin was eager to show her he was the dependable sort she wanted.
“The rail will still be there in the morning. Strip your horse, then relax. Take a stroll. Get acquainted with what is where. I will expect you and your brother for supper.”
“Us tonight, and Seth Montfort tomorrow night? Do you always have so many folks over?” Lin meant for it to make her grin, but instead she grew sad.
“If I never set eyes on him again, it would be too soon by half. But I need to find out what he is up to.” Etta June shook herself, blinked and smiled. “Listen to me. Prattling away. There is a washbasin out back of the house. I will fill it with water and leave lye soap so you and your brother can clean up before supper.”
“We will,” Lin said. He watched her hurr
y off, then turned and headed for the stable. The buttermilk came first.
Conflicting emotions tugged at him. On the one hand, he was happy to be there. He liked Etta June. He liked the notion of working for her. He liked that they were in the middle of nowhere. But on the other hand, trouble appeared to be brewing, and the last thing he needed was to become involved in another shooting affray.
Why isn’t life ever easy? Lin asked the thin air. When he was a boy it had been easy enough. Back then his parents were as kind and loving as could be, and everything was right with the world. Lin sighed. Lately he was thinking too much. It took too much effort, and half the time he could not work out the problems he was trying to solve.
Lin would be the first to admit he was not all that smart. He accepted that. A man should always be aware of his limitations, and one of his was that his brain did not work as well or as fast as most others. But that was all right. As his pa liked to say, the important thing was that a man stayed true to himself. And that was one thing Lin would always do, no matter what.
Lin grinned wryly. Who was he kidding? He was being—what was that word? Oh, yes. He was being a hypocrite. He had lied about his last name. And anyone who lied was hardly being true.
The sound of laughter brought Lin out of himself. He reached the open double doors of the stable and saw Chancy about to place the zebra dun in a stall. The children were grinning and chortling, and looked around as Lin entered leading the palomino.
“Your brother is funny,” Tom said.
“He called us bugs,” Beth piped up, and giggled. “He says we are a couple of spiders.”
Lin smiled. His brother hated spiders and stomped every one he saw. “Pay him no mind. He says a lot of strange things.”
“I do not,” Chancy said.
“You sure have a pretty gun,” Tom remarked. “Can I hold it?”
Chancy glanced at the boy, and for a few seconds Lin worried he would let him. “You may not. Guns are for adults, not spiders.”
“I only want to hold it,” Tom begged. “I won’t shoot it or anything.”
“Do I ask to hold your cows?” Chancy said.
Beth cackled.
The stall next to the zebra dun was empty. Lin brought the buttermilk over, saying, “Keep it up and you will be more popular than hard candy.”
“It is not my fault,” Chancy said. “No matter what I say, they take it the wrong way.”
“Be nice,” Lin said.
Chancy went to a bin, opened it and scooped oats into a bucket. “I do not know how long I can do this.”
“We just got here.”
“This is your kind of life, not mine,” Chancy said. “I like cards and whiskey and a dove to warm my knee.”
“Give it a try,” Lin said. “For me.”
“You ask too much,” Chancy replied. “But for you, and only for you, I will hold out as long as I can.” He came back to the stalls. “When I cannot take it anymore, though, I am saddling up and heading for Mason. After that, who knows?”
“You would go off on your own?”
“I am a grown man, Lin. We are family, but we will have to go our separate ways eventually.”
“I just thought—” Lin said, and fell silent. It was foolish of him, he supposed, to imagine they would be as close now as they had been when they were the same ages as Tom Jr. and Elizabeth.
The children followed them on their tour. Beth mentioned that one of the chickens always pecked when they tried to take her eggs, and both kids laughed when Chancy suggested they eat her. Tom talked about a dog they once had, which they always tied up at night so it could not run off. One morning the family came out and the dog was gone.
“Pa said a cougar or a wolf must have got him,” Tom said. “We looked, but all we found were Indian tracks.”
That made Lin wonder. Some tribes were partial to dog meat.
The smith shop had not been used much since their father died. The forge was cold. Tongs and other tools hung neatly on pegs on the wall.
Tom Jr. placed a hand on the anvil. “I liked to watch my pa work in here. The metal would get so hot, it glowed.”
“I miss him so much,” Beth said, her eyes misting.
“Let’s keep going,” Chancy said.
Their circuit presently brought them back to the stable and the corral. Tom pointed at a spot near the gate. “That is where we found him. His head was crushed.”
“Ma shot the horse that killed him,” Beth said. “Shot it over and over with the rifle until there were no bullets left.”
“You must be careful around horses,” Lin advised.
“I don’t like them much anymore,” Beth said. “Ma wanted to get me a pony, but I don’t want one.”
“You could always throw a saddle on a cow,” Chancy said.
Beth brightened. “You say the silliest things.”
The clang of a triangle on the front porch let them know supper was ready. Etta June had changed into a clean dress, and wore an apron. “I hope you are hungry.”
Lin sniffed a few times. Something sure smelled good. He doffed his hat, then nudged Chancy so he would so the same. They were about to step onto the porch when young Tom turned and pointed.
“We have company coming, Ma.”
Two riders were galloping down the valley. Even at that distance, the fact that they were not men was apparent.
“Who can it be, Ma?” Beth asked.
“Only one person we know rides an albino,” Etta June said. “I will put another plate on for her.” She hurried in.
“It has to be Mrs. Dixon and her daughter, Sue,” Tom Jr. said. “But I never saw them ride like that.”
The woman on the albino was quirting it as if she could not get to the ranch fast enough.
“How old is the daughter?” Chancy asked.
“No one ever told me,” Tom answered, “but she is about your age, I would reckon.”
“She sure is a fine-looking filly.”
“She is a girl,” Tom Jr. said in disgust.
Lin leaned toward his brother. “You better behave.”
“I will be so polite, you will gag.”
The women did not slow until they were almost to the house. Then Lin saw the older of the pair notice him and Chancy, and she hauled on the reins and said something to the younger woman. The last twenty yards, they came on at a walk.
“Pat! Sue!” Beth squealed in delight and ran to greet them.
The mother was a square block of a woman. Gray at the temples, she had thick arms and thicker legs, and when she dismounted, she planted them as if she were a tree. She also yanked a rifle from her saddle scabbard. “You are growing like a weed, little one,” she said to Beth, and bending, hugged her.
The daughter had the same black hair, only without the gray. She was nicely formed, a flower in bud that would soon bloom in the full beauty of womanhood. She nodded at Lin, then intently regarded Chancy. “How do you do?”
When his brother did not reply, Lin looked over and saw that Chancy was standing as rigid as a statue.
“I am Patricia Dixon,” the older woman said. “Who might you two be?” she asked suspiciously.
Lin was spared having to explain by the timely return of Etta June, who greeted her visitors warmly and invited them in.
“So you have finally taken my advice and hired a couple of hands to help out?” Pat said. “I wish Cody would hire a few. We might need them, if things go as I fear.”
“I ran into Seth Montfort on my way home,” Etta June revealed. “I couldn’t believe my ears when he claimed that Cody was rustling his cattle.”
“I couldn’t believe it, either,” Pat responded. “Montfort rode right up to our house and accused Cody to his face. I was never so glad we keep our rifles and revolvers in a case in the parlor. Cody might have tried to shoot him and been shot to ribbons by Montfort’s men.”
“Surely it will not come to that.”
“You know as well as I do that Montfort has alway
s acted as if he is better than everyone else. He looks down his nose at smaller spreads. I used to think he was just putting on airs, but now I am not so sure.”
“What do you mean?”
“The look on Montfort’s face. The things he said.” Patricia Dixon put her hand on Etta June’s shoulder. “I am scared, Etta June. Have you heard about all the shootists Montfort has hired? I think he aims to unleash them on me and mine.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “He is going to wipe us out.”
Chapter 6
The food was delicious. It reminded Lin of his mother’s cooking.
Chicken stew was the main course; the broth was thick and creamy, heavy on the milk. Potatoes and coleslaw were the side dishes. The former had been fried, the latter fresh made, so that the bits of cabbage crunched when Lin chewed. Corn dodgers were an added treat. But the best came last; for desert there was brown Betty, a favorite of his when he was growing up. They had a choice of beverages: coffee or lemonade.
Lin and the children seemed to be the only ones enjoying the meal. The guests barely touched theirs. Etta June also ate sparingly. Even Chancy did not display his usual healthy appetite, which surprised Lin considerably. Although his brother did not make the big fuss Lin did about eating regularly, when Chancy did eat, he consumed as much as a hungry bear just out of hibernation.
As they ate, Tom Jr. and Beth chatted about the things they had done while their mother was away. Tom had discovered an ant hill and dug down until he unearthed the queen. Beth reported that a pigeon had laid an egg in the stable rafters.
Etta June broke her silence. “How would you know that unless you climbed up to see?”
“I didn’t do the climbing,” Beth said. “Tom did.”
Etta June focused on her oldest. “What have I told you about playing in the rafters?”
“I used the ladder.”
“That shows common sense,” Etta June said. “But you still could have fallen and broken a leg or an arm, and then where would you be? With me off at Mason?”
“I was real careful.”
To Lin’s amazement, Chancy, of all people, wagged a finger at the boy and said, “Listen to your ma. She knows what is best. If I had listened to mine, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten into some of the trouble I did.”
Ralph Compton Ride the Hard Trail Page 4