“Who's behind this?” asked Thorn urgently. “Do you know who's trying to force the landowners out?”
“Don't know,” replied Slim weakly. “Talk to Garvey. He knows more than he lets on, I'm sure of it.” Slim's body went limp and Thorn lowered him gently to the ground and stood up, tensing as the gun in his back poked him in the ribs.
Chapter Four
“Hands up, Mister and turn around real slow. Keep 'em high where I can see 'em.”
Thorn did as he was instructed, keeping his gun pointed up in the air as he spun around to face the familiar voice. “It's me, Sam,” said Thorn, relaxing as he realized it was Sheriff Handen.
“Thought you looked familiar. What the devil are you doing and who have you killed this time?” He pushed the dark brown hat back on his gray laced, blonde curls and wiggled his mustache as he stared at Thorn. The humor in his dark green eyes didn't hide the fact that forty-five-year-old Sheriff Sam Handen was no fool. He and Thorn had been friends now for a couple of years and he knew men could change. Never take anything for granted, was his motto.
“I didn't kill this one, Sam,” replied Thorn, holstering his gun. “His name is Slim and he has a partner named Hank. He named Hank as his killer. Said Hank took the money they earned on a job today.”
“You better come and tell me about it in the office.” Sheriff Handen looked down at Slim, rubbing his square jaw. “I saw this man earlier in the saloon in a high stakes poker game. I recognize the hat.”
Thorn followed Sheriff Handen to the jail where Sam instructed his deputy to pick up the body. He then poured two cups of steaming hot coffee and handed one to Thorn. “Now, tell me what's going on.”
“You know I can't tell you everything about a case I'm working on, Sam,” replied Thorn, taking a sip of the oily black liquid.
“I just get to bury the bodies when you come to town, right?” asked Sam dryly. “Never mind, I know it has something to do with the Indian raids and cattle rustling going on between here and the California line, so you don't have to tell me. The fact you work for Wells Fargo and that some of their stagecoaches have been robbed lately when they were shipping ammunition and guns tells me a lot. Everyone knows the ranchers are complaining about being pressured to sell and a lot of them have sold out rather than keep fighting the Indians and the droughts. Having their waterholes poisoned and their cattle stolen on a regular basis gets a might hard to take after a while.” He leaned forward to study Thorn's passive face. “You got any theories?”
Thorn grinned. “A few...none that I can share at the moment, but I'm following up on some leads.”
“There was a widow passed through town just today on the stage,” observed Sam. “She grabbed a bite to eat at Lilly's and went right on out on the next stage to San Antonio. It appears she was talking about selling her ranch over near Silver Springs. Sold it to the bank there.”
“Yes, that would be the Widow Clausen. Did she say anything else?” Thorn sipped on his coffee but he was pretty sure there wouldn't be any more to the story and he didn't intend to follow her any further after running into Slim and Hank. He intended to visit Silver Springs as soon as he got back to Potluck...well, almost as soon.
“Nope, can't say as she did. Pretty much the same story they all give and she was tired of fighting it.” Sam leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “There is one odd thing though, that I noticed. Thought it was kind of peculiar.”
“What's that?” asked Thorn curiously.
“Well, if you look at it on a map, all the properties that have been sold are almost in a straight line between here and the west Arizona border. Isn't that kind of strange?”
Thorn thought it was a good point, but he didn't let on. Instead, he yawned and stood up. “Well, thanks for the coffee, Sam. I'll let you know what I find out when it all breaks open. Right now, I need to get some shuteye. Going to leave early in the morning.”
“I still say it’s strange,” yelled Sam after him as he left the office.
Thorn threw him a grin over his shoulder and shut the door. It was strange and he had noticed it, too. Some ideas had already been shaping up in his mind about that and he had a feeling this Garvey fellow would shed some light on the situation.
As Thorn walked up the hotel steps, he saw Boxcar coming down the boardwalk, whistling cheerfully. “I take it you had a productive evening?” he asked politely, seeing the luscious Sarah in his mind’s eye and feeling slightly envious. But only slightly. Clary's image implanted itself over Sarah's and he shook it off impatiently. He didn't have time for women!
“Most productive,” replied Boxcar with a lopsided grin. “It seems that the cowboy has done this before. And every time, he comes back through, but never chooses a woman. This has been going on for about six months, at least once a month, sometimes more. Strange, isn't it? One of the other girls told Sarah that he always meets three men outback. Two white and one Indian. This girl sees them from her window and thinks its odd, but she minds her own business.”
“It's just a front,” replied Thorn slowly, lighting up a cheroot and taking a long drag. He didn't smoke often, but sometimes he liked to have one...it helped him think. “I think the money he won in the poker game is going to pay the men that are harassing the ranchers. And I'll bet you good money that the Indian is getting money to buy guns...what they can't steal.”
“You think they are filtering the money all over the territory?”
“No, I think they have a setup similar to this in other places. I've watched a lot of poker games where the ranch hands and high rollers get cleaned out. I've seen this man before, but he hasn't been in on every game I've seen.
“Aikens was in quite a few of them, but he got killed before I could question him, thanks to Callie. There are a few others that I've seen turn up more than once in one of these games. Every time, they practically clean the table. That's how Callie's father got killed. He accused a man of cheating. I wasn't at that game but Callie said it was high stakes and Aiken's buddy took most of the money. She wasn't there when her father was actually killed, she had left for the hotel when she got tired of watching.”
“So you think Callie's father caught onto the fact he was being cheated and Aikens or his partner killed him when he objected?”
Thorn took another drag. “That's exactly what I'm thinking.”
“Sounds entirely plausible,” replied Boxcar, leaning against the railing of the boardwalk.
Thorn went on. “And another thing I've noticed, is that all the properties that are being harassed or have been sold are pretty well lined up between here and California. Isn't that interesting?”
Boxcar's eyes lit up. “A land grab, huh? But what for?”
“I don't know,” replied Thorn, crushing the cheroot beneath his heel. “That's what we have to find out. Somebody wants those ranches badly enough to go to a lot of trouble and expense to get them. And they don't want anyone to know who they are, either. That's why all the subterfuge.” He turned towards the hotel door. “Come on, we need to get out of here in the morning and on over to Silver Springs after a stop in Potluck to drop Callie off.”
“Right,” replied Boxcar with a grin. It hadn't escaped his notice that Thorn hadn't mentioned his sister at all. Things were going to be pretty interesting in that department. Clary had changed a lot in ways that Thorn didn't even realize. It was going to be highly entertaining to watch the events unfold as they got to know each other once again. Chuckling, he followed Thorn inside.
* * *
Clary stood in the middle of the empty upstairs rooms, her heart beating fast as she nearly overflowed with excitement. It was a done deal! She had bought the building! She once again walked through the rooms, imagining how she would decorate the bedroom, sitting room and bathing area. A nice curtain around a claw foot, over sized bronze tub to divide it from the rest of the room, a wall-length mirror behind the tub over a low cabinet filled with all kinds of bathing salts and foams. Clary loved bath
ing; it was almost a sensuous affair for her! She breathed deeply and let it out. Her own place!
She whirled around and went back down the stairs and into the back room. She had her own office and storage area, a kitchen and a huge room out front to display her wares. There was plenty of room to have a couple of sewing machines set up on one side of the room and there was a counter to take customer orders. She intended to have two sewing rooms where ladies could be fitted for their orders and a dressing room for people to try on creations she already had made. All she had to do now was begin ordering the equipment she needed and get some furniture until her things arrived from Pennsylvania. She began to mentally tick off the things she would need to set up housekeeping until then.
She jumped when a knock sounded on the back door and she opened it to see Fanny standing there, a big smile on her face. “Come in, come in,” she said, her eyes shining. “Oh, Fanny, it's perfect! I can't wait to get settled in! Thorn is going to be so surprised!”
Fanny went still at the mention of Thorn, then she stepped inside, a curious smile on her face. “You never mentioned Thorn before. Is he a friend of yours?”
Clary laughed in delight. “Yes, Thorn and I grew up together back east. But he left me behind three years ago and so I decided to follow him out here. Of course he doesn't want me to stay, but I'm going to anyway. He thinks he can still boss me around like I was a little girl, but he is about to find out those days are over. I grew up.”
She smiled impishly at Fanny and Fanny suddenly realized why Thorn had always remained aloof. He was still in love with his childhood sweetheart!
A small sigh escaped her perfectly painted lips. Just as well she hadn't allowed her emotions to run away with her concerning the handsome cowboy. They were good friends, but nothing more. Fanny had wanted to take their friendship further, but something always seemed to hold Thorn back. Now she finally understood. She didn't suppose it would ever have worked anyway; Fanny would never be a wife. It wasn't in her blood, or in her interests. She was quite happy doing what she was doing and would probably remain that way unless someone really stole her heart away someday. But so far, that day hadn't come. She really liked Clary and it wouldn't be a hardship to shelve the designs she had had on Thorn for her sake. She smiled brightly at the younger girl.
“Well, pish tosh! Why wouldn't he want you to be out here with him?” she asked curiously.
Clary looked considering at her new friend. “He says it's because the west is dangerous and he has a job to do that he is needed for, but I think it’s more than that. I just think Paddington Thorn wasn't ready to settle down and get married,” she replied. “And frankly, neither was I! But I did want to come with him and was very angry with him when he left me behind.”
“This is certainly going to be a surprise all right,” agreed Fanny. “Did you tell him you were coming?”
“No, but he knows,” answered Clary with a grin. “We met on the stagecoach on the way to Potluck. Some bandits were chasing us and Thorn and Boxcar came along and ran them off.”
“And what was his response when he saw you?”
“He said I was going home of course, but I'm not. He told me to go to the Sleepy Inn and I didn't do that either.” She smiled mischievously. “He's going to have to learn that I don't take orders from him. It might as well be now.”
Fanny thought the young girl might learn otherwise, but she kept her own counsel. Thorn didn't strike her as the kind of man to let a slip of a girl tell him off either, but that was between them. Should prove interesting at any rate, she'd love to be a fly on the wall! Pushing those thoughts aside, she listened attentively as Clary explained her plans and showed her around the building.
“I can help you out with furniture,” Fanny told her after the grand tour. “I'll get some men to bring some things out of storage for your personal use. You can be ready to move in tonight if you want. You can return them when you get your own things from back east.”
She hooked her arm through Clary's. “Come on, let's go have lunch. I'll have it brought into the hotel in my personnel quarters and you can tell me more about that handsome brother of yours.”
Outside, they met Mike on the boardwalk and they greeted him with smiles.
He doffed his hat and returned the greeting, then looked at Clary. “Thorn's back,” he said, sounding almost sympathetic. “He's looking for you, Clary.”
* * *
Boxcar and Callie sat under the spreading limbs of the old tree alongside the river, not too far from Callie's ranch. He was escorting her home and they had stopped to give the horses a break.
He glanced sideways at his petite companion, wondering what was going on inside that pretty head of hers. She intrigued him. His conversation with her during their travel time together and over dinner last night assured him she was highly intelligent, but her youth was against her.
“What are your plans for school, Callie?” he asked abruptly.
Callie pinned him in a vivid blue gaze. “School?”
“Yes, you need training, education...more than just what a country schoolhouse has to offer.”
Callie scoffed indignantly. “Ha! Are you talking about one of them fine finishing school like they got back east? I don't think so! Ain't no way I'm leaving the Double J!”
“Why not?”
“Because I don't want to, mostly,” she answered honestly. “Besides, who would take care of things if I left?”
“What about Luke Perkins? You said he has been the foreman for years and he's your Uncle too. Did your Pa leave any provision in the will?”
Callie flushed beet red. “Well...uh...actually, I never stayed around for the will reading. I went hunting Pa's killer and only stayed at the ranch at night. The lawyer has been after me to sit down long enough for him to read it with all parties concerned, as he put it.”
Boxcar shook his head and sighed. “Callie, Callie, what am I going to do with you? You are certainly an impetuous little girl, aren't you? Didn't your uncle insist on you staying home? After all, you're still underage.”
“Well...yeah...but I sneaked out. Pa's only been dead and in the ground a few days. Thorn brung me home from the funeral, talked to me for a while and I followed him to town to get that Aikens fella. I got him too,” she said proudly.
Boxcar frowned. “If I was your uncle, I'd be taking a strap to your backside, little bit.”
Callie glared angrily at him. “Don't tell me you're one of those women beaters too! And here I thought you were a gentlemen! Gentlemen don't spank ladies!” She moved huffily away from him and turned her head towards the meandering waters of the river.
Boxcar chuckled. “Well now, a man can be a gentleman and still spank a naughty little girl when the occasion warrants it.”
“I'm not a little girl!”
“You're all of seventeen and headstrong at that. You need a firm hand, obviously,” replied Boxcar. “Even I can see that.”
“You ever spank me and I'll never speak to you again,” protested Callie, her illusions about Boxcar crumbling quickly.
“Don't threaten me, little bit, I don't cotton well to threats.”
“And I don't cotton well to brutes like you,” she cried, impetuously throwing a handful of pebbles at him. They had water and mud mixed in with them and Boxcar watched pointedly as they slid down the front of his new vest.
“Now what did you have to go and do that for?” he complained as he quickly reached for her. “Now you're forcing my hand.”
“Let go of me,” she yelled as he effortlessly dragged her across his outstretched thighs.
Boxcar pinned her easily with one broad hand on her slender back and the other coming to rest on her skirted, wiggling bottom. He patted her affectionately on the twin globes, admiring their outline in the material.
“I do love a woman's ass,” he explained lazily as he patted her. “And you've got such a nice one, little bit. Too bad I have to spank it hard. There are other things I rather do wit
h it.” He brought his palm down in a blistering spank and chuckled when she let out a yelp.
“You're a bully,” she yelled, her face turning red as she kicked and struggled.
“No, I'm not...I just don't like it when little girls can't control their temper. I like my women well controlled.” He laid into her ass like a man on a mission. “I'll stop when you're ready to apologize and mean it,” he said mildly, never missing a beat.
Callie objected strongly to this treatment. “I'm not your woman... ow! Let me go! Stop it, Boxcar,” she demanded, trying to wiggle away from him. Nothing she did made a difference and her butt burned and throbbed very quickly, still being sore from Thorn's recent administrations.
“Whether you're mine or not, I still can't abide temper tantrums,” replied Boxcar cheerfully.
Callie held out as long as she could, his hand pummeling her backside until she finally let out a sob. “Okay...okay, I'm sorry!”
“How sorry?”
“Sorry...really sorry! Honest, Boxcar...please s...stop!” The dreaded tears began to trickle down her nose and she couldn't help the yips and yelps that accompanied her suddenly heartfelt apology. “I shouldn't have thrown the rocks at you...I'm sorry!”
Boxcar chuckled again and pulled her upright. “That's better, little bit. It's always better to control your temper. I accept your apology.” He leaned forward and kissed her on her pert nose and handed her his handkerchief.
“Now then, dry your tears and let's be on our way. We have a will to listen to and your future to plan.”
Callie got up with hiss and looked him straight in the eye, her own blue eyes rather soulful. “Why are you so interested in my future? Why would you want to help me?”
Boxcar rubbed his chin and smiled down at her. “I'm not sure, I just know I do.” He took her hand to lead her to her horse. “Come on, let's go. You can ask questions later.”
* * *
Clary bit her lip as she realized Thorn was standing in the doorway of Madame Fanny's, a thunderous scowl on his face. Lifting her head, she walked bravely up the stairs, refusing to acknowledge the quivering inside her stomach. The last time Thorn had looked like that she had been fourteen and she had taken his prized stallion for a ride...a ride without his permission. When she had come galloping triumphantly back into the barnyard, he had hauled her from its back, pulled her inside the barn to the nearest hay bale, and forced her over his lap where he had administered a stinging, humiliating spanking that had made her hate him for a long time...until the first time he kissed her. Then she had finally forgiven him. It had been the only time he had ever spanked her, but not the last time he had kissed her. She had a sinking feeling those numbers were about to change!
The Case of the Great Land Grab (Agent Thorn Book 1) Page 5