Forever, Victoria

by Dorothy Garlock

  Sage put Becky down on the rain-soaked clothing and stumbled to the end of the wagon. His ma and pa lay together as if sleeping, but their throats had been cut and their blood mingled together beneath their heads. At that moment so great a hatred arose in Sage that everything else paled in comparison.

  Even now he didn’t remember the rest of that day, sitting beside his sister, bathing her face, refusing to let the tremendous silence bear him down, refusing to think about what would have to be done. Sometime near dawn the next morning Becky died. She had been talking to him lucidly minutes before, talking about the orchard Mama was going to plant in Oregon. She lapsed into silence and Sage dozed for a time. When he jerked back to consciousness, Becky was dead.

  Three days later the stray team of oxen wandered into camp. Sage hitched them to the wagon and left the campsite after standing beside the three graves and vowing to kill those responsible.

  “They didn’t even take the money, Pa,” he cried. “They only wanted the goddamned horses!”

  It had taken Sage a year, but at the end of it he was a fifteen-year-old wet-eared boy who had killed three men. The daft boy had either died or been killed and Sage forgot about him. He entrusted the money his pa had hid beneath the boards of the wagonbed, seed money for a business in Oregon, to an army officer at Fort Bridger to take back East for him. It had always been in the back of his mind to buy a little spread someday, but he never seemed to find the place where he wanted to spend the rest of his life. So he roamed, coming back to the Double M because Ruby was the one person who was always glad to see him.

  Time had dulled the pain of more than ten years ago, but when he saw Nellie lean on her brother it brought back to mind sweet, gentle Becky, and he felt more alone than he had for a long time.

  “You all right, Sage? Ruby said fer me to look in on ya.” Stonewall came across the board floor, his spurs making a tinkling sound.

  Sage sat up. “I’m all right, I wanted to talk to you about signing on as a steady hand.”

  “Ya mean that? I’ve asked ya before ’n’ ya never wanted to stay put. What changed ya?”

  “Dunno. Guess I decided if I’m going to be shot at it might as well be for a cause. I got myself in the middle of a feud and before I knew it both sides was a shooting at me.”

  “Wal, as fer me, I’ll be glad ta have ya. Course I’ll talk it over with Miss Victory.”

  “What about this Mahaffey that’s moved in? Are they kinfolk?” Sage grimaced as he swung his legs off the cot.

  “No. Not kinfolk,” Stonewall said slowly. “What do ya make of him?”

  “He’s a cut above anything else you got here. I’m a thinking you’re gonna need someone to back yore hand against Kelso.”

  “Kelso’s all right. He’ll cool off up at Potter’s Bluff.”

  “Kelso’s smoldering. Something’s eating at him. He’ll blow up one day and do something foolish.” Sage ran his fingers through his hair, then stood.

  “What do ya think it is?” Stonewall asked.

  “It’s Miss Victoria. He’s wild for her.”

  “Ruby figured that was why he had a burr under his tail,” Stonewall said drily.

  One of his rare smiles transformed Sage’s face. “Ruby’s got more horse sense than anybody I know.”

  Stonewall tried to keep from grinning. “If’n ya was a mite older or Ruby a mite younger I’d be thinkin’ ya was after my woman.”.

  “If that was the case, you’d probably be right.”

  Stonewall screwed his hat down tighter on his head. “Think ya’ll be fit by roundup time?”

  “Sooner than that. Meanwhile you got a lot of leather out there in the tack house that needs a soaking in oil.”

  “Well, get to it.” Stonewall walked out the door.

  * * *

  Mason stared into the small mirror as he shaved. He had carried a teakettle of hot water to the washstand that stood beside the door in the room Victoria called the office. Pete lounged in the chair beside the desk.

  “I’m going into town tomorrow with Miss McKenna. I want you and Clay to walk easy and not let any of these fellows get you in a bind.” Mason tilted his head slightly, sighted along his jaw, and drew the razor down carefully. Then he rinsed it in the water.

  “What’re ya going to town for?”

  “Victoria is going to see her lawyer and I’d like a word with him myself.” He worked the razor on the strop for a few minutes and then went on. “That Ike may give you some trouble if Stonewall rides off.”

  “What do you make of that feller they call Sage? Clay caught him staring at Nellie and was ready to call him on it.”

  Mason lathered his chin again. “Clay would be asking for something he isn’t ready to handle. The man did no harm looking. Your sister is a pretty girl and they don’t see many pretty girls out here. There isn’t a man here that wouldn’t fight till he died for a woman or kids. It’s you and Clay I’m worried about.” He paused to shave again. After a moment he added, “Don’t let yourself get backed into a corner. Stay among the regular hands and keep Doonie out of trouble.”

  “I ain’t exactly no slouch, Mason. Neither is Clay. We been looking after ourselves for quite a while.”

  Mason paused in his shaving. “I know that and you did real good. But now we’ve got Nellie and Dora to look after.”

  “And Victoria.” Pete got up out of the chair and without looking at his brother walked out of the room.

  Mason finished shaving and cleaned his razor and brush. He heard Nellie and Dora going down the hall to the kitchen, heard Victoria ask Pete to bring in a bucket of water. For a moment Mason imagined he was in a completely ordinary, happy home. But that was wishful thinking. Victoria would clam up when he came into the room and if she spoke to him at all it would be in response to something he asked. He put his shirt on, brushed his hair, and went out into the hall.

  Ruby came in the back door and barely glanced at him before going into the kitchen. She and Victoria came hurrying back into the hall and he had to step aside to allow them to pass. Victoria marched out the door without looking at him. Ruby glanced over her shoulder and her eyes seemed to ask him to follow. He caught up with them in two quick strides.

  “What’s the hurry?”

  “It’s Kelso. He’s been drinking, but he’ll settle down if he knows Victory is within hearing distance of his rantin’.”

  “I thought Stonewall sent him up north to push the stock back across the river.”

  “He didn’t go.”

  Mason slowed his steps to keep pace with Ruby’s shorter stride, but Victoria hurried ahead through the early evening dusk, moving briskly across the yard toward the light that shone in the cookhouse window.

  “He didn’t go?” Mason put his hand on Ruby’s arm and stopped her.

  Ruby shook her head. “He’s a spoilin’ for a fight and Stonewall ain’t up to handlin’ him. Stonewall’s prideful, but I ain’t goin’ ta stand by ’n’ see him take a beatin’ at the hands of that no-good. I’ll blow a hole in ’im big enough to drag a team through.”

  “You won’t have to, Ruby. Stonewall isn’t alone here. Let’s go.” He put his hand beneath her elbow to hurry her along. Ruby was breathless trying to keep up with Mason as his long legs ate up the distance to the cookhouse. Kelso’s angry voice seemed to fill the small building.

  “Ain’t nobody gonna send me off up to Potter’s Bluff ta get rid a me. I was here wid ol’ Marcus afore you come here. I ain’t a leavin’ to give ya a free hand to turn Miss Victory agin me. Ya damn old coot, yore a gettin’ too old ta run this here outfit.”

  “Yore drunk, Kelso. Go on to the bunkhouse and sober up. We’ll talk in the mornin’.” Stonewall spoke quietly.

  “I been a drinkin’, but I ain’t drunk, ’n’ no ol’ galoot is goin’ ta send me off ta bed.” Kelso stood up. He was a tall man and looked taller than usual. His eyes were ugly.

  “Then I’m telling you, Kelso.” Victoria spoke from the doorway,
her voice and her eyes cool.

  Kelso turned on Stonewall. “Ya had to send fer her. Hidin’ behind Miss Victory agin!” His face flamed with anger and he shoved it close to Stonewall’s.

  There were at least half a dozen men in the room. Some got up quietly and moved aside, sensing what was coming. Victoria walked over and stood beside Stonewall.

  “You were told to go up north with Lud. We don’t need anyone on this ranch who can’t take orders. Pack your things and get out. I’ll get you an extra month’s pay.”

  Kelso looked at her as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Yore takin’ his side? Yore tellin’ me ta leave?” He shouted the words, and his face was fiery red and contorted.

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Get off the Double M and don’t come back.” Her words rang into each corner of the room.

  “You—you—” Kelso stepped toward her, his eyes glittering. His hand lifted.

  “Kelso!” Mason barked the name, and the big man froze. “You touch that girl and I’ll kill you!”

  Kelso looked desperately around the room. On one side Sage stood in a crouch, a six-gun in his hand. Mason Mahaffey filled the doorway and a revolver filled his hand.

  Controlling himself with an effort, Kelso lowered his arm. “You keep out of this,” he muttered thickly in Mason’s direction.

  “I think you’ve forgotten, Kelso, how folks feel ’bout Miss Victory in this country. Ya lay a hand on ’er and ya wouldn’t live an hour.” Stonewall spoke calmly. Only Ruby recognized the nervous tremor in his voice.

  “I wasn’t goin’ ta touch her, but she ain’t got no right to talk to me that way,” Kelso snarled.

  “She’s got every right.” Mason spoke from the doorway.

  “And I said fer you to stay out of it! You ain’t but come on to this place. I been here nigh on ten year.”

  “I’d’ve run you off the first time you questioned my orders, as you did Stonewall’s this morning.”

  “Ya talk big with a gun in yore hand. I ain’t no slickhanded gunfighter.”

  Mason slammed the gun into the holster and his fingers worked at the buckle of the belt. His blazing eyes never left Kelso’s flushed face.

  “You’re nothing but a flap-jawed loudmouth who doesn’t know when he’s well off.” Mason handed his gunbelt to Pete who stood behind him. “You’re through here, Kelso. Stonewall doesn’t have to put up with your sass and Miss McKenna isn’t paying you wages to lie about drinking when you were given a job to do.”

  For an instant Kelso was startled. Then he laughed harshly. “Why you damn fool!” he burst out. “I get my hands on you and I’ll kill you!”

  The fierce old love of battle that was never far from the surface welled up inside of Mason. He grinned.

  “You’re big, but I’ll bet you haven’t had a dozen fights in your life. I’ve had a hundred. You’re big and soft and stupid. All there is to you is mouth and I’m going to smear it all over your face.”

  Dead silence lay in the shadows where Mason could not see. His eyes were fastened to Kelso’s face, but he heard Victoria say, “No, Mason. Don’t!”

  Kelso charged, surprisingly fast for such a big man. Mason’s fist came up and he swung a jarring right to the teeth that flattened Kelso’s lips. The blow would have stopped most any other man in his tracks, but it didn’t even slow the maddened drover. A huge fist caught Mason on the jaw as he rolled to escape the punch and the two men tumbled out the door, their momentum carrying them off the narrow porch and into the dirt.

  Mason rolled over quickly and came up with a solid right to the chin. Feet flat and wide apart, he hooked a hard left into Kelso’s belly. Though hurt, Kelso went into a half crouch and grazed Mason’s head with a wide right.

  Kelso got an arm around Mason’s body and smashed ponderously at his face. The big fist thudded against cheekbone and skull and Mason began to see lights behind his eyes. He smashed his heel against Kelso’s shin, then drove all his weight into the man’s instep. Kelso let go and staggered back, leaving Mason an opening to hit him full in the nose. Blood spurted. He reeled, caught his balance, wrapped his head in his arm and lunged forward, trying to get in close. Mason caught him by the shoulders and swung him away, sending the heavy drover crashing into the wall of the cookhouse. When Kelso bounced off and turned back, badly shaken, Mason was waiting with three blazing, wicked punches.

  “Yippee! Whup him, Mason! Tear down his meathouse!” Yells of encouragement came from Pete and Clay.

  Wild with fury Kelso drove in swinging both fists. Mason met him. They stood toe to toe and slugged doggedly at one another. Suddenly Kelso reached out, grabbed Mason by the arm, and slammed him against the wall. His head hit hard and he slumped to the ground. Kelso sprang, his heels raised to crush the life from Mason, but Mason rolled over and staggered to his feet, more shaken than hurt. He blinked and swung. His fist flattened Kelso’s nose and knocked him back.

  Crouching, Mason stared at him through a haze of blood and sweat. “Come on, you damn hunk of lard. I’ve just got started!” Unstanched blood flowed from the deep cut on his cheekbone. Mason darted in and delivered a few quick blows to Kelso’s body, then a swift jab to the mouth, circling to stay out of reach of those huge hands. His legs felt leaden, his breath came in gasps.

  Kelso clubbed a left to the side of Mason’s head, then put everything he had in a sweeping right. Mason ducked the blow, stepped in and hit him under the heart, a lifting, powerful blow. Kelso gasped and staggered back. Instantly Mason’s fists were up, chopping at his face.

  Kelso went to his knees. His eyes were glazed, his face smeared with blood. He pushed himself up from the ground and stood reeling. He struck out feebly and Mason caught his wrist and pushed him away. Kelso staggered and fell, then got up slowly and started for Mason. He tried to kick, but he was too slow and Mason hammered him to the ground. “You’re whipped,” Mason said raggedly. “I don’t want to beat you to a pulp.”

  Kelso swayed on his hands and knees and looked up at Mason. Until seconds ago Kelso had been known as the toughest man on the Double M. Now he was not only beaten, he was humiliated in front of Miss Victoria and the Double M hands. He would never forget. “I’ll kill you,” he said hoarsely.

  “Be off the ranch come daylight.” Mason accepted a towel someone thrust into his hands and wiped his face. There was a period of taut silence while he scanned the crowd that had gathered to watch the fight. In the near dark it was impossible to see the faces of the men.

  “If any of the rest of you don’t like the new picture, now’s the time to say so.” There was a silent moment. “I’m here to stay and I’m standing behind Stonewall. All you have to do is give the Double M your full allegiance, do your work, and you’ll get a square shake.”

  He turned and looked at Victoria, who stood beside the door, half in light, half in dark. He waited for her to speak and when she didn’t, he walked into the darkness toward the house.

  Dora and Nellie flanked him when he stepped up on the porch.

  “Oh, Mason! Your face!”

  “I hope ya stomped his guts in!” Dora shouted. “He’s a stinkin’ turd, is what he is!”

  Mason grinned down at his little sister with the side of his mouth that still worked. “You’re a pistol, honey.”

  “Ya whupped him, Mason. Ya whipped his ass!”