“So, you plan to just stay here? Despite the overwhelming odds? Despite the store owners in town refusing to sell to you?”
Three steaks were sizzling away in a large skillet. She had been about to flip them, but then looked to Johnny. “This is my home, Mister McCabe.”
“Johnny.”
“Johnny. This is the only home I’ve known since I was a child. It’s the only home Cora has ever known. Her father is buried out back, one of the finest men I have ever met. I can’t just abandon this place. Where would I go?”
“Certainly, you must have family?”
She shook her head. “It’s Cora and me. That’s it. We have nowhere to go.”
“Well, if it means anything, I have no plans to go anywhere. And I think I can speak the same for Matt and Joe. That’s three extra guns alongside Wolf and Ches. We’ll defend this place for as long as we can.”
She allowed a small smile. It was weary and a little defeated, but at least it was a smile.
A call came from outside. “Riders comin’!”
The weariness was gone from her face like turning a page. In its place was alarm. Maybe a little fear.
Johnny placed a hand on her arm. “I’ll check it out. You and Cora stay in the house. Tell the others, too. Tom and Lettie.”
Outside, Johnny found Joe and Matt were at the stone wall. Matt had a Winchester in his hands.
Matt said, “Two riders just came in through the pass, and are heading this way.”
“What happened to Wolf?” Johnny asked.
“They got past him somehow.”
“I didn’t hear any gunfire.”
Joe said, “There’s more than one way to take a man out.”
Johnny nodded. There certainly were.
It was three riders. From this distance, all Johnny could see was that they wore wide hats and each one of them rode his horses like he was no stranger to it.
“Wolf’s not with them,” he said. Wolf had a buckskin jacket he was wearing this morning, and Johnny could see one rider seemed to have a red shirt, and the other two had darker shirts or jackets. The sun was up and Johnny could pick out the colors really well, and none of them were buckskin.
Johnny took a position at the barn, behind one corner. When the riders came into the ranch yard, Johnny would step out from behind the corner. He would have no cover, but they wouldn’t know he was there until he stepped out. Sometimes surprise was the best tool.
Joe went to a watering trough and crouched behind it. He would have cover, and he had his twin barrel scattergun in his hands. If he fired both barrels at once he could cause a world of hurt to three riders. Matt ran across the yard to a birch. Not much cover, but better than none.
The riders came into the yard, and Johnny stepped out and so did Matt.
The rider in the red shirt was actually wearing a red plaid wool shirt. He had a sombrero and wore his gun high on his hip. In the saddle was a Winchester.
Johnny recognized the man, but before he could say anything, Matt was calling out, “Hold your fire!”
It was Ben Harris, the ramrod of Matt’s ranch.
The front porch had a rocker and a straight-back chair. Matt took the rocker and Ben the straight-back, and everyone else was standing. Jessica emerged with coffee cups and a fresh pot.
Ben said, “There’s a lot of shady stuff going on back at the ranch. It don’t take a genius to know something’s wrong. How long have I ridden for you, Mister McCabe?”
Matt shrugged, doing the math quickly in his head. “You’ve been ramrodding for me for four years now, and worked for me for two or three before that.”
“I know you didn’t murder Mrs. McCabe’s butler. There was always something creepy about that man, beggin’ your pardon.”
“Don’t have to beg my pardon. I first met him years ago when he was more boy than man, and there was always something creepy about him. I wasn’t all that surprised when he came at me with a knife that night.”
Ben slapped his leg with one hand and looked at the other men. “I knew it. Didn’t I say it? I knew something had to have happened.”
The other two were nodding.
Matt said, “We fought and I had to kill him, but a lamp got turned over and caught the place on fire. It was out of control so fast I knew the house was going to be lost. I ran because I thought if maybe everyone thought I was dead for a while, it would give me some freedom of movement to go and figure out just what was going on.
“You see, boys, that butler, Timmons, wouldn’t have tried to kill me on his own. He had to have orders. Who do you think they came from?”
Ben’s mouth fell open. “Mrs. McCabe?”
Matt nodded. “Had to be.”
“Gol dang.” Ben looked at the other two, who were shaking their heads.
Ben said, “We took a vote in the bunkhouse last night. Whether to stay or ride on. Mrs. McCabe doubled everyone’s pay the day after the fire, and everyone chose to stay, except us three.”
One of them was a thin man with high, sharp cheek bones. He had a bushy beard that fell to the top button of his shirt, and was younger than Johnny had thought at first. Maybe early twenties. A beard has a way of making a man look older.
He said, “My name’s Hatch. I ride for the brand. And I always thought you was the brand, Mister McCabe. I ride for you. My loyalty can’t be bought off.”
“Thank you, Hatch,” Matt said. “That means more than you know.”
The other man nodded and said, “Me too. We ride for you.”
Jessica had returned the coffee pot to the stove to keep the coffee hot, and now stood in the doorway. Partly to get away from the heat of the stove, and partly because she was curious about what was going on.
Matt said, “We’re mighty glad to have you men with us. But keep in mind, it could get ugly. It grieves me to admit my son Hiram is as corrupt as my wife, and they want this canyon. They believe there’s a vein of gold ore running through these cliffs. And they’ve both shown they’re willing to kill to get it.”
Ben looked to Hatch, who stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Could be. I did some prospecting, at one time. Went to cowpunching because the money’s better. The shape of the cliffs...a lot of it’s just gut feeling, but I was thinking when we rode in here that back in my prospectin’ days I would have wanted to work these cliffs a little.”
Ben said, “We don’t care if there’s gonna be a fight, Mister McCabe. We’re here with you.” He glanced at Johnny and Joe. “All of you.”
Jessica said, “I’m really much obliged, boys, but I can’t pay you.”
He hurried to his feet and snatched the hat from his head, as though he hadn’t realized she was standing in the doorway. “Don’t require no pay, ma’am. Just doin’ what’s right.”
She looked at Johnny. “And, of course, this makes our supply problem even worse.”
Matt glanced at Johnny.
Johnny said to him, “Mrs. Swan is running low on flour and many other things. The stores in town have been told not to sell to her.”
“I’m not surprised.” Matt shook his head. But then he looked at Johnny with the glint of a smile in his eyes. “But I think I might have a solution to that little problem.”
21
Jessica fixed them a dinner of steak fried with wild onions.
“Steak is one thing we have a lot of,” she said.
After the meal, the McCabe brothers stepped outside and stood by the stone wall looking down at the valley floor. It was now dark. Matt handed a cigar to Johnny and one to Joe, and then lit his own.
Joe said, “Are you sure you don’t want me riding along with you? Three guns’re better’n two.”
Matt said. “We need as many guns as possible here at the canyon. What we’re going to do, if two riders can’t do it then three won’t improve the odds much.”
Johnny took a draw on the cigar. He was truly going to miss these once Matt’s supply ran out. Johnny had a box of cigars on his desk back in Monta
na. They weren’t bad, but they couldn’t compare with these.
He said to Joe, “You’re in charge while we’re gone.”
Joe nodded. “Just come back in one piece. Both of you.”
Johnny saddled Thunder and picked a bay gelding from the Swan remuda for Matt. He saddled them both, but left his saddle bags and bedroll on the barn floor. He then checked the load in his rifle and tucked it into the scabbard, draped a canteen over the saddle horn and led both horses from the barn out into the ranch yard.
He found Jessica Swan waiting for him. She stood, her arms folded in front of her. The moonlight caught her hair and gave it a silvery edging.
“I don’t want you doing this,” she said.
“It’s a sound plan.”
“It’s a foolhardy plan. There could be men lying in wait for you.”
“We’ll be careful. This is what we do. We’ve been through this kind of thing before. We know what to watch for.”
She said nothing. He let both reins slip through his fingers and walked toward her.
He said, “We need supplies. You said so yourself. If we’re going to keep this many men on, we need to feed ‘em. And we need these men.”
“They’re not gunfighters. With the exception of you and your brothers, these men are cowpunchers. And Middleton’s a professional gambler.”
“I’m not sure what Middleton is. But I think he can hold his own in a fight. And these men, Ben Harris and the others. They’re men to ride the river with. Like Wolf and Ches.”
“I don’t want you going out there. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“It’ll be all right. Joe’ll keep everyone here safe. And I don’t think Wolf is any stranger to a gunfight. There’s a certain look to his eye. You’ll be all right here even if something happens to me.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Then she glanced downward, suddenly embarrassed at what she had said.
And Johnny realized what she meant.
It had been a long time since a woman talked to him like that. It had been a long time since he wanted one to. He had spent so many years feeling guilty for the way Lura died, blaming himself. So many years alone.
“I’ll be coming back,” he said.
She met his gaze. “How can you be sure?”
He gave her a long look. A man could drown in her eyes. He finally said, “A gut feeling, I suppose.”
“Let’s just hope your gut feeling is right.”
Matt came walking out. His cigar was now down to a short stub and he pulled it from his mouth and flipped it away.
He said, “Ready to ride?”
“Ready as ever,” Johnny said.
Matt took the reins of the bay and pushed a foot into the stirrup and swung up and into the saddle.
Johnny took one last long look at Jessica. He said, “It’ll be all right.”
She nodded. She didn’t look convinced.
Johnny turned and took Thunder’s rein and swung into the saddle.
Matt said to him, “Do you have the letter?”
Johnny nodded and tapped the front of his vest. “Right here.”
“All right. Let’s ride.” And Matt started down the slope toward the canyon floor.
Johnny turned in the saddle for one last look at Jessica. He hoped she would still be standing there watching, though he felt he had no reason to expect her to be. And yet she was. He nodded to her and she nodded back.
He turned and gave Thunder a light squeeze with both legs and a sort of giddyup motion with his hips and they started forward, down the slope. He rode with a feeling of lightness that he had not felt in a long time.
Wolf was standing guard down by the entrance to the canyon. He stepped out into view as Johnny and Matt rode up.
“I will stay here, at the opening,” he said. “Until you come back.”
Johnny and Matt rode through the entrance, rocks standing tall at either side, and then emerged from the canyon. Johnny reined up and Matt followed suit, and they sat in the saddle and looked at the landscape about them.
It was mostly flat, with a gentle rise or decline here or there. A lot of it was grass, which caught the moonlight like Jessica’s hair had. Short fat oaks were scattered about.
Matt said, “I was bracing myself for gunfire. But there doesn’t seem to be anyone out there.”
“They’re out there,” Johnny said. “I think I know Verna well enough to know she’s no fool, and she’s not going to have any fools working for her. They have at least one man out there, watching this canyon. To see who’s coming and going.”
“Where would you place a man?”
“High ground, but not too far away.” Johnny looked to his left. Maybe five hundred feet away the land rose a little and an oak stood. Short, with thick branches close to the ground. Easily climbable. “There. I’d have my horse back a ways, and I’d be in the tree. Maybe with a spyglass.”
“Then maybe my plan will turn out to be a good one, because they won’t be expecting us to ride in the direction we’ll be riding in.”
“Let’s go overland. The moon’s bright enough that if we take it somewhat slow we should be all right.”
The trail that began at the mouth of the canyon wound its way south toward town. To the west was the McCabe Ranch. But Johnny and Matt turned southeast, away from either place, which they figured might puzzle anyone watching the canyon. Johnny figured they would expect the town or the ranch to be the two most likely places any riders from the canyon would head toward.
Johnny and Matt rode easily. At one point Thunder wanted to move into a light trot, and Johnny knew his horse had good judgment about such things so he let him have his head. Matt’s bay fell into place behind him.
They rode for maybe three miles, then stopped and dismounted and loosened the cinch of each horse to let the horses breathe more easily and rest up.
Matt looked toward their back trail. “I would have expected pursuit.”
Johnny shook his head. “They didn’t expect us to come out at night and to ride off in this direction. There’s probably only one or two men watching the canyon. They’ve probably been told to stay where they were and if they followed us they’d be abandoning their post. And they don’t know if we’d be setting up an ambush for them.”
Matt looked at his brother with appreciation and a little amazement. “It’s like a chess game for you, isn’t it? Warfare. It’s a thing of tactics and strategy.”
“I suppose that’s what war is, when it comes right down to it.”
“It’s also about killing.”
Johnny nodded. “That too. I guess maybe I’ve always been a little too good at both.”
“Maybe you should have been a general.”
Johnny shook his head. “All I ever wanted was a good horse beneath me, and miles of unbroken land all around me. A good gun at my side. A good knife. And I want my family safe.”
Matt slapped Johnny in the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s ride.”
They rode another three miles. The land flattened out a little more and there were fewer trees. Maybe a half mile in the distance was a narrow structure standing as tall as a two-floor building.
“A water tower,” Matt said. “The ten-eighteen will stop there for water. Pays to be part owner of the railroad. You keep up with the schedule.”
Matt pulled a pocket watch from his vest and clicked it open, holding it so he could see the face in the moonlight. “We have about half an hour, if it’s on time.”
They covered the half mile in fifteen minutes. Johnny pulled his rifle free of the scabbard and stepped down to the ground.
“Stay with the horses,” he said. “I’m going to climb up into the tower and have a look around. I want a look at our back trail and that tower will give the best view. I don’t think we’re being followed but it’s best to be sure.”
“What’s the rifle for?”
“If we’re being followed, then whoever’s back there won’t be reporting back.”
Johnny climbed up and into the tower. The moon was not bright enough for him to have a clear view of much beyond a quarter mile, but he figured he would be able to see motion. The human eye is like that. Often it can spot motion before it can see details.
He let the minutes stretch by. Sometimes the most effective tool to survival is patience. And so he waited and watched for any motion that might indicate there was a rider behind them.
But he found none. After a time he heard a train whistle coming from the west. He looked in that direction and saw a light in the distance. He climbed back down to join Matt.
A locomotive came toward them in the night, its light growing larger. The whistle sounded again, and soon the train was close enough that Johnny could see the dark smoke rising from the stack in the moonlight.
The train came to a screeching, grinding stop, and then steam hissed from the engine. The engineer looked down at Johnny and Matt and said, “Evenin’, boys. What can I do for you?”
Matt said, “We need to talk with the conductor.”
The engineer nodded. He said something to his fireman, who stepped down to the ground and walked back past the wood car to the first passenger car and stepped up and in. Within a few minutes, a man in a dark suit and a cap stepped out into the doorway of the lead passenger car.
He said, “Something I can do for you gents?”
Matt stepped forward. “My name is Matthew McCabe.”
The man stiffened with surprise. “Mister McCabe. Sir.”
“You’re heading east. We have a letter that needs to be dropped off in Cheyenne.”
Johnny pulled the envelope from his vest and stepped forward and handed it to the conductor.
“I’ll see it arrives, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“Mister McCabe,” the conductor said. “Is everything all right? I mean, begging your pardon, but to be out here like, this so late at night.”
Matt said. “Just see to it that letter arrives in Cheyenne.”
Return of the Gunhawk (The McCabes Book 3) Page 20