“He hurt you? He’ll pay for that.”
Dusty shook his head. “No. Kiowa is mine.”
Tempy continued. “Flossy eventually became Vic’s woman, and I became Loggins’. We spend most of our time out here at the hideout, now. We don’t get paid anymore, but our meals are provided. They brought me along on one of their recent raids, to cook. And Loggins is only one man, at least. That’s something, to know there will be only one man there, every night.”
So, it was indeed her shoe prints they had seen at the remains of their camp in the ridges surrounding the McCabe’s valley.
“So,” Josh said, “what were you doing at the saloon a couple days ago? Looked like you were working.”
“Flossy still runs some girls that work there. She was in town, and I went with her. I was just lounging in the saloon, having a drink.”
“Not the kerosene that barkeep serves.”
She chuckled. “No. He keeps the good stuff for his special customers. And because I’m with Loggins, I get to drink for free. I was just having a little fun with you when you and Dusty showed up.”
“Tell me something,” he said. “You told me your name was Felicia, and you have also said Sarah-Ann. How did they get ‘Tempy’ out of either one of them?”
She laughed. “My name was never Sarah-Ann. I said that because I was told to ride in and find out all I could from you. I don’t call myself Felicia, either. That’s a name Flossy thought I should use. My parents named me Temperance, but everyone calls me Tempy. I hate it, but somehow, ‘Temperance’ isn’t quite becoming of a saloon whore.” She laughed, and Josh noticed a bitter tone in it.
“How much of what you told me was a lie?”
“Not all of it. My father was in the Army. My parents died, and I was forced into this line of work to stay alive. Sad story, right?” Again, a bitter chuckle. “I had a sister named Faith, who was older than me. She married before Ma and Pa died, and moved back east.”
“Weren’t there any other children?”
“A boy and two other girls, all who died at birth.”
“Wasn’t there any family you could have gone to when your parents died?”
She shook her head. “My sister is all I have, and I am not going to be a burden to her. She and her husband are farmers, living in New Hampshire, and they’re raising a brood of children. They don’t need another mouth to feed.”
“So, you took to the saloons.”
She nodded. “I was fifteen. With no money. Ma and Pa had worked hard all their lives, but like most folks I ever saw, they had very little to show for it.”
She got to her feet. “I’ve got to be going. Flossy and I have work to do. Clothes to wash, and we got a small garden we tend.”
“Thanks for sitting with me. It isn’t often I get to chat with a pretty girl.”
She tried to suppress a smile, but her eyes betrayed her.
Before she could speak, Josh said, “Doesn’t Loggins ever tell you you’re beautiful?”
“He doesn’t need to. He knows I’m his.”
“When I tell a girl she’s pretty, it’s not because I have to, it’s because I want to. It’s because she is.”
She did know what to say about that. She let her gaze drop to her toes while she searched for the words, then said simply, “I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll be seeing you. Temperance.”
She looked at him again, this time the smile fully escaping. Then she turned and started up the grassy hill toward the cabin.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Dusty had just finished his venison and was procrastinating on the brown slop, when Kiowa Haynes came ambling his way down from the cabin. “Boss wants to see you.”
Dusty glanced at Josh. “I don’t think I could have brought myself to eat this brown stuff, anyway.”
He set his plate down in the grass.
Josh still had a couple bites of deer steak left, but set his plate down too.
“Not you,” Kiowa said to Josh. “Him only.”
Falcone sat at the table – Flossy was nowhere to be seen. A whiskey bottle stood on the table before him, half filled. With a nod of his head, he indicated an empty chair across from him. Dusty spun the chair backward, then straddled it.
“You can go,” Falcone said to Kiowa.
“You sure, boss?”
Falcone simply stared at him, with eyes that reminded Dusty of a hawk.
Kiowa said, “I’ll wait outside, boss.”
When the door had shut, Falcone slid a glass toward Dusty. “Would you like a drink?”
Dusty had never really liked the taste of raw whiskey, but his gut feeling was to play along, so he reached for the bottle.
Falcone said, “So, you two are here looking for a job?”
Dusty nodded, and took a sip.
“Tell me about this partner of yours.”
And so, Dusty spun a tale of fiction about how he and the gunfighter, Josh Brackston, had signed on as hired guns at the McCabe Ranch. They had stayed for a while, punching cattle, but after the attack on the ranch, they moved on. The pay wasn’t good enough for that kind of risk, and besides, they had grown tired of cows. When Dusty realized it might have been Patterson and Falcone’s men who had attacked the ranch, they decided to try to find them.
“All right.” Falcone knocked back the remainder of his glass, then reached for the bottle for a refill. “What do you think you have to offer me that any of the men I already have couldn’t?”
“The McCabe Ranch,” Dusty said simply, and took another sip of whiskey while he let the words sink in.
“I lost a lot of men when I tried that the first time. Barely got away with my own hide intact. The place is too well guarded. Like a small fort.”
“You tried it the wrong way.”
“And what would be the right way?”
“Hiring me as your scout.”
“I already have one. Kiowa Haynes.”
“And look what that scout got you. How many men were killed?”
“All right. I’ll play along. What would that ranch have that would be worth risking a second strike, which might not go any better than the first? Horses? Supplies?”
Dusty decided to stretch his fabrication further – as far as it might take to sell himself to Falcone. “How about twenty thousand dollars?”
That got Falcone’s attention. That was more than most men in the west saw in a lifetime. “I’m listening.”
“They have a strongbox filled with cash. Dividing it up among us, it would still be a lot more per man than McCabe was willing to pay Josh and me for risking our necks as hired guns. And that ranch wouldn’t be very hard to take if you went about it the right way.”
“I never would have thought a rancher would have as much as twenty thousand dollars. Where could he have gotten that kind of money?”
“A couple cattle drives were more successful than they had planned. And he had a price on his head when he was younger. He didn’t get that being a choir boy. I didn’t ask specific questions, but it was kind of obvious. He also has business interests in California. You know how men like that are, when everything they touch turns to gold. There’s no bank in that little town, so he keeps it in a strongbox right in the house.”
“So, you think that ranch can be taken? If we went about it the right way? What did we do wrong?”
Dusty took a swig of whiskey. “You and your men rode into that valley bold as brass, checking out the area and deciding which spread to take. And in doing this, you gave McCabe time to find out you were there, and prepare for the attack. Keep in mind, that’s Johnny McCabe we’re talking about. He was a former Texas Ranger and a gunfighter, not just a stupid cowboy. I worked for him for a few weeks. The stories they tell about him are mostly true.”
Falcone filled Dusty’s glass again. “Please continue.”
“You split into two groups, which wasn’t really a bad idea. Against anyone else, it should have done the trick. But his men attacked the flan
k of one group, and caught the other in a crossfire. Like I say, he’s good. But he lost some men, too. And he took a bullet himself. He has a son about my age who’s trying to run things while the old man is laid up. But he’s not a gunfighter. He’s a cattleman.
“This time, when you attack, it should be done entirely by surprise. No camping out in the mountains for a few days to let them know you’re there. And we won’t ride in with torches, and with guns firing. We’ll sneak in. By day. When most of the men are away from the ranch. Take the strong box, grab some horses and supplies, and be on our way.”
“I don’t believe sneaking onto the McCabe Ranch will be as easy as you make it sound.”
“Josh is from this area. He knows the hills and ridges around that valley like the back of his hand. He can lead us in so no one will know we’re coming. We take the strong box and grab some horses, then I’ll lead us out, covering our trail so’s it can’t be followed.”
“I have Kiowa for that.”
“Having Kiowa for that didn’t do you any good the first time. And Josh and I followed you and your men right here to this canyon. If we could do it, so could a lawman.”
“It’ll take time to hire more men.”
“You don’t need any more men. We got enough right here. Seven, including me and Josh. Any more would be too many for a job like this.”
Falcone allowed himself a brief smile. “I see you learned much from Patterson.”
“He was a good teacher.”
Falcone looked down to his drink thoughtfully for a moment, then rose to his feet and paced toward the hearth, one hand at the back of his neck.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about, Dusty. But I’m still undecided.”
“It’s a good plan, Vic.”
He nodded, and turned back to Dusty. “Of that I have no doubts. It’s you I still have my doubts of.”
“Why?”
“Because of Sam Patterson. He virtually raised you, and he raised you to be a man of integrity.” Falcone chuckled, and raised his brows. “You see, Sam wanted you to be everything he was not, but might have been had things been different. Sam had a heart, a serious handicap in this business. He cared about people. That proved to be his greatest weakness, because he was forever leaving witnesses alive who could testify against him if he was ever caught. He also showed that weakness in the way he raised you.
“He taught you to use a gun, and I have seen you use it. Even at thirteen, you were better than anyone currently in this camp. And he taught you the art of guerrilla warfare, and indeed there was no better teacher. He taught you to survive in this wilderness, and again – no better teacher. But he also taught you that his very lifestyle was wrong, and when it came time to make a decision about which path you were going to follow, you rode away. And now, I am to believe that you have a had a change of heart, and are willing to join us?”
Dusty shrugged, and put on his best cynical smile. “I guess Patterson didn’t teach me that good after all.”
Falcone smiled. “If only I could believe that. I guess I want to believe that, because even as a child you exhibited a natural intelligence. As a former teacher, I find myself looking for that sort of thing in a person, and I find so little of it in the company I keep. Such intelligence would indeed be very useful to me. But I don’t quite dare trust you. At least, not yet.”
Dusty let out a long sigh. “Life’s been hard, Vic. After I rode away, I started looking for jobs. I found some. Cow punching, mostly. I was a shotgun rider for a stage company. But it was mostly lean times. And when I was working, the pay was low. A man can’t build a life that way. Sam taught me ideals. And I still have them. But life taught me reality.”
“I don’t know, Dusty. I want to believe you.” Sam drew a breath. “You and Josh are guests here, at least for the moment, until I make my decision. There won’t be any need for an armed guard.”
“Can we have our guns back?”
“If and when I decide to hire you.”
“And if you don’t decide to hire us?”
“Then, you’ll both be shot, because you know the location of this canyon.”
Dusty nodded.
Falcone said, “I thank you for your time. Now, I must be left alone to think.”
Dusty knew he was being dismissed, and knew it would be unwise to overstay his welcome. He wanted to stay on Vic’s good side for as long as possible.
Dusty found Josh still sitting in the grass at the top of the slope. “How’d it go?” Josh asked.
Dusty shrugged. “I gave it my best shot. I hope it works. Because, if it doesn’t, not only will we be shot, but I may have given him a way to attack the ranch successfully this time.”
The following morning, Josh rounded up his and Dusty’s horses and lead them to a makeshift stable Falcone’s men had fashioned out of hand-cut pine logs, with a roof thatched with pine boughs. He removed the saddles and inspected the shoes for wear, then grabbed a brush hanging by a nail and set about brushing down each horse.
“That’s the McCabe brand” came a woman’s voice from behind him. Josh glanced over one shoulder to see Temperance walking up behind him, and he followed her gaze to the encircled M branded onto the hip of the horse. She was still in men’s pants and a range shirt, and she held a folded up blanket in one arm.
He nodded in response to her remark. “That it is.”
“A man could get hanged for horse stealing,” she said.
“And he could for stealing twenty thousand dollars.” Dusty had told Josh of his plan.
Her brows rose. “Twenty thousand dollars?”
He nodded.
“How? Where?”
“Dusty has been talking it over with Falcone. I shouldn’t say more until they work out all the fine points.”
“So that’s why there’s no armed guard, now.”
Josh nodded.
“How come they haven’t given back you’re guns?”
“Like I said, the fine points aren’t worked out yet.” Josh returned to brushing his horse.
She stepped up behind him. “Where’s Dusty?”
“He decided to take a stroll, now that we’re free to roam the canyon. He’s a restless type.” Josh turned his gaze back to her. “Where’s Loggins?”
“Vic sent him into town for supplies.”
A silence developed as they stood each looking into the other’s eyes. Then, she turned quickly away. “Loggins wouldn’t like me being here.”
“But he’s in town.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to make him mad. He’s not very pleasant when he’s mad.”
“Why? You’re a grown woman. You can talk to whoever you please.”
“He’s..,” She hesitated, as though this was difficult to say. “He’s hurt me, before. I don’t want to give him cause again.”
“If he ever lays a hand on you again, I’ll kill him.”
She looked at him suddenly. “I don’t want you fighting him.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just that..,” she shrugged and turned away. “It’s just that I don’t meet very many men who are nice to me, and I don’t want to see one of the few get hurt.”
Josh dropped the brush to the ground, and took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “I’ve been in my share of fights. And you know the only way I get hurt?”
She shook her head.
“My knuckles, when the men I’m fighting smash their faces against them.”
She smiled, despite her concern. “Are you really afraid of nothing?”
He grew suddenly serious. “Everyone’s afraid of something, Temperance.”
Her smile grew broader. “I like it when you call me that. When Loggins says it, it’s because he’s making fun of me.”
“I’d never do that.”
“I know.”
They drew closer, and Josh found his lips touching hers. Lightly. Then she pulled away.
“I was heading down to the pond for a ba
th,” she said, suddenly nervous, almost afraid. “I’d better get going, before I give Loggins a reason to shoot you.”
“Like I said, don’t worry about him.”
“He has a gun, and you don’t. I’ve seen him shoot a man in cold blood for less.”
She turned and hurried away, and Josh retrieved the brush and went back to brushing his horse, a sudden wave of uncertainty touching him. Not at the thought of possibly having to fight Loggins, but because he was no longer as sure of himself as he had been.
He had started this situation with Temperance partly because he thought he might be able to use her to his and Dusty’s advantage. It wouldn’t hurt to be working more than one game. Dusty was working Vic, and Josh was attempting to gain the girl’s trust. But when she spoke of Loggins hurting her, his anger had been sincere. His intention to kill Loggins was real. And the kiss had been very real.
He hadn’t intended this to happen. She was nothing more than a saloon whore and a liar, and an outlaw’s woman. But he was now discovering beneath the labels was a person. She was sensitive, vulnerable, even beautiful in her own way.
And as he tried to concentrate on the brushing down of his horse, he found his mind drifting to what she had said when she left. She was heading down to the pond at the center of the canyon, taking a bath..,
Temperance lounged in the cold mountain water, submerged to her shoulders. Her eyes were shut, and she was enjoying the heat of the sun on her face.
“Beautiful day for a swim,” came a voice from the shore of the small creek. A little coarse and gravely, and with a slight twang that was out of place here in the northwest. She looked to see Josh standing in the patch of grass where she had dropped her clothes, and the blanket she would use to dry off with.
“Where are you from?” she said. “You have the sound of Texas in your talk.”
“My pa spent some time there. I guess I picked it up from him.” Josh hoped he hadn’t just said too much.
But she was smiling. “You want to come in and join me?”
He hesitated at the appeal of her invitation, then said, “I would love to. But I’d better not.”
The Long Trail (The McCabes Book 1) Page 37