“Yes, sir.”
Johnny and Matt rode on, now heading west.
Matt said, “That house Dan talked about. The one Verna bought few years ago. It went to a small farm at the edge of the ranch property. She and Hiram tried to keep it secret, but I wasn’t as oblivious as they thought.”
Johnny said, “According to Dan, that’s where they’re staying until the new house is built. And that place must be stocked with supplies.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
Verna sat in a rocker in front of the hearth. This was not the grand hearth she had enjoyed in her bed chambers at the mansion. This was a simple hearth made of bricks, by the farmer who had built this simple house years ago. The side of the hearth was a little uneven in places and the mantel nothing more than an old, rough-hewn timber. But it was functional. For now that would suffice.
In her lap was a saucer, and she brought a cup of tea to her lips. The cup shook a little. Her hand had always been steady when she was younger, but no longer. And she was tired. She was oh, so tired. When she climbed the stairs, she often felt winded. Back when she had met Matt, she had been able to run up the stairs at the old mansion easily. Matt had chased her up the stairs once, both of them laughing, and then she had hopped on the banister and slid all the way down. Now, such an effort would probably kill her.
She felt older, more worn out that she should be at this age, she thought. Maybe the pressure and strain of building this empire were catching up with her. She carried a lot of responsibility on her shoulders. She had been required to make some hard decisions over the years. Decisions that had impoverished some, and cost the lives of others. Most recently, Timmons. To make these decisions, you had to be strong. But after a time, no matter how strong you were, it was bound to wear you down.
A fire crackled low and Hiram paced behind her. He was in a string tie and jacket, and a glass of scotch was in his hand.
“Mother,” he said. “Something has to be done. We are just sitting here.”
“Actually, Hiram, you are standing.” She said it with a little impatience.
Hiram had the proper values, she thought. He was free of the sentimentalism of Matt. She had seen to that. She had failed with Tom, and Dan simply didn’t have the spine to do what had to be done. But Hiram had the right combination of strength and intelligence. What he didn’t have, however, was patience.
He said, “But it feels like we’re doing nothing.”
“Patience is sometimes the most important attribute a person can have, Hiram. Unfortunately, it cannot be inherited. It has to be learned.”
“But Dan is with them.”
She sighed. “Regrettably, he has made his choice. I don’t think he’ll stay long, though. I don’t think he has the stomach for it. Let him go hungry a while, let him live with the threat of a gun battle hanging over his head. In time, he’ll return home.”
“Is that what we’re waiting for? For Dan to give up on them and come back?”
She shook her head. “We’re waiting for the precise moment. I only hope that when it comes, Dan is not there.”
“We’re going to starve them out.”
“A little hunger can work marvels on a person. They have beef, yes, and water. I remember that old canyon from when I was a young girl and Father would take me riding. Back then no one lived there. If I remember right, there’s a natural spring there, so they’ll have all the water they need. But there will be no flour. No coffee. No sugar. No one in town will sell to them—we’ve seen to that. And they have to live every moment on guard, ready for an attack. Such a thing can weigh on the nerves.”
“I still say a rush attack is what we need. Catch them when they least expect it.”
“What do you know of your uncle, Hiram?”
He shrugged. “I know I didn’t find him very impressive. I would have expected more from a living legend. He’s just an old man with ridiculous looking Indian hair, and living in the past. Quite frankly, I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”
“Don’t make the mistake of underestimating him, Hiram. He is quite formidable. He has a natural head for warfare. I remember this from when he used to work for my father. Thinking strategically comes naturally to him. He was the only one I ever met who could beat Father at chess. Even I couldn’t do that. And don’t underestimate his physical prowess, either. The legends about him are based partially on truth. He has survived numerous gunfights, and you can’t do that unless you are very good at what you do.”
“You’re saying he will make a worthy adversary.”
She shook her head. “I’m saying he can make a truly dangerous one. The only one I’ve ever met who is truly on my level. Or, he could be if he chose to be.”
“But he lives in a simple old cabin in the wilds of Montana. Probably not much more than this house here. Maybe not as much. Wouldn’t a man on your level be building an empire of his own?”
She took another sip of tea. “He has two problems. One is the delusion that he is some sort of grand knight from the days of old. Riding in to save the poor peasants. Some sort of hero like in the days of King Arthur. The other is that he sees little value in wealth and the trappings that come with it. Give him his accursed mountains and a campfire, and he has all he wants in the world. He sees no value in power or wealth. If he had, considering who he married and the money in that family, he could have built a financial empire grander than ours. Virginia Brackston’s father built a shipping business that was worth more than this ranch, back in those days, and your uncle’s wife was her niece. Given your uncle’s propensity for strategic thinking, he could have owned half the state by now. He could have been governor. Or a senator. He might have even been a candidate for the presidency.”
Hiram made a dismissive, snorting sound. “Then why didn’t you marry him, instead of Father?”
“Because I couldn’t control him.”
“Even still, he’s an old man now.”
“He’s not that old. We still have to be very careful of him. Your father, by himself, is of no consequence to us. And the other people at the canyon—as I understand it, an old cowhand and some sort of an Apache scout. Small potatoes, really. And a former saloon whore and her ill-begotten child. No, the only one there of any consequence is your uncle.”
“I understand the canyon’s entrance is too easily guarded from the inside, and the canyon walls are too sheer to be climbed from the outside. But I still say if enough men rushed the entrance, those men with Father could be driven back.”
She shook her head. “We would lose too many men in the process.”
They heard Matt’s voice from behind them. “Hello, everyone. I’m home.”
Verna’s breath caught in her chest and Hiram’s whiskey glass fell to the floor, and they heard the sound of Matt’s pistol cocking.
Verna rose from her chair and turned to face her husband. Hiram had turned, and he backed up until the hearth stopped him from backing any further.
“Matthew,” she said, aghast. “What are you doing here?”
“Just being inconsequential.”
“You heard us.”
“Hard not to. The two of you talking away, leaving your backs unguarded. I really thought you’d be smarter than that, Verna. You’re so good at strategic thinking.”
“We have men outside.”
“Not anymore.”
The door opened and two men came in. Men Matt recognized as cowhands from the ranch’s payroll. Jacobs and Snider. Cowhands now, but both had served in the Army fighting the Sioux and were no strangers to battle. Both in their mid-twenties. Longish hair, and with holsters at their sides. Though their holsters were now empty and their hands were held high in the air. Jacobs had a fresh, reddening bruise on his cheekbone. Johnny stepped in behind them, his Colt in his right hand.
“Evenin’, Verna,” he said.
Verna said nothing.
“Okay, boys, down on the floor. Face down.”
They did
n’t hesitate.
Verna said, “What do you want?”
Matt said, walking around to Hiram, “First to apologize.”
Hiram was looking at him with surprise because he apparently didn’t expect his father to say that. And a little fear because for the first time in his life he was seeing his father as possibly a force to be reckoned with.
Matt said, “I failed you. I failed all three of you boys, really. Tom has done well regardless. And Dan’s future is still his to shape. But you, unfortunately, are your mother’s son. You are ruthless. You see people as pawns to move about or sacrifice for the sake of the greater good. And in your eyes, the greater good is your own good. I allowed myself to turn a blind eye to a lot that I shouldn’t have. For that, I’m sorry.”
Hiram only stared at him.
Matt then looked to Verna. “Now, for the reason we actually came. We need supplies.”
She said, “You murdered Timmons and burned down the house, and now you intend to rob this one?”
“I didn’t murder Timmons, and I think you know that. I killed him in self-defense. He was ordered to murder me. And who do you think gave the order?”
She said nothing.
He said, “I think Hiram knows. The sad thing is he doesn’t seem to care. In the process of defending myself, a lamp was overturned and a fire was very quickly out of control.
“And taking supplies from here won’t be robbery. Since the ranch and all of the property in the McCabe name belongs partially to me as long as I’m alive, you could easily say I’m just taking what’s mine.”
Johnny ordered Jacobs and Snider to their feet, and to begin carrying supplies from the kitchen to a buckboard out front. He then had them hitch a team to the wagon.
Matt kept Verna and Hiram in the house.
“Stealing horses now? And the wagon?” Verna said.
“Not stealing. They’re partly mine, too.”
Johnny tied Thunder to the back of the wagon and climbed into the wagon seat. He said to Jacobs and Snider, “Don’t try to follow. I didn’t kill you this time. I won’t be so generous next time I see you.”
Matt swung into the saddle. “Verna, as always, it’s a pleasure doing business with you. Hiram, again, my apologies. If you have a change of heart, there will always be a place for you at my table.”
He was about to ride away but then turned back to his son. “And be careful. Don’t turn your back on your mother. You might think you can trust her, but she tried to have me killed. What makes you think she’d stop at doing the same to you?”
At that he turned his horse away and Johnny gave the reins a snap and the wagon began rolling away from the house.
Hiram and Verna stood on the front porch of the farm house watching them move away into the darkness.
“Don’t listen to him,” Verna said. “Of course I would never have anyone harm my own offspring.”
“He has a point about one thing, though,” Hiram said. “All of the family assets are partly in his name. All he has to do is get an attorney and he could make serious trouble for us. Freeze assets.”
“He said the key phrase, himself. As long as he’s alive.”
“Mother. I was stunned that you tried to have Father killed once. You can’t be thinking of doing it again. He might be pathetic, but he is my father.”
“Oh, Hiram. Don’t be ridiculous. Have you ever taken a good honest look in the mirror? Do you really think he’s your father?”
She went back into the house and left Hiram standing alone on the porch.
22
It was nearly five in the morning as Johnny and Matt approached the canyon entrance. The going had been slow. Little rises and drops in the land, little outcroppings of rock, lumps of grass, things that a horse could step over or navigate around but which made traveling by wagon slow and tedious.
Wolf was standing guard and greeted them with a smile. Johnny turned the team up the grade that led to the house. He pushed on the brake with his foot and as he climbed down from the wagon, Jessica stepped from house. She was smiling widely.
He said to her, “I told you I’d come back.”
“Did you have any trouble?”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah. But nothing we couldn’t handle. And we didn’t make any friends. Is everything all right here?”
Jessica gave a sort of I-don’t-know shrug of her shoulders. “Sam’s gone. Slipped out of the house without anyone noticing shortly after you left. Took one of his horses. He told Wolf he had something to take care of but said nothing more. But he left a note for Peddie saying he had an idea as to how to stop this whole thing, and to take care if he doesn’t return.”
“Sam’s gone?” This made Johnny pause a bit.
Matt said, “Do you think he’s the kind who would run out on a fight?”
Johnny shook his head. “I don’t know him well, but somehow I have the feeling that’s not his way.”
Jessica said, “He’s such a man of mystery. He always has been. Even Peddie knows very little about him. But if he were to cut and run, I couldn’t blame him. It’s not his fight. I just can’t imagine he’d leave Peddie.”
“Well, I’m not leaving. I promise you that.”
Johnny was tired. Twenty years ago, the kind of night he and Matt had wouldn’t have been physically taxing at all, but now he felt like every joint in his body was aching. Matt had already gone to the barn and climbed into his bedroll but Johnny felt too restless to sleep, despite how worn out he felt, so he poured a cup of coffee from a kettle Jessica had left on the stove and stepped outside.
He found Joe standing by the stone wall. His scattergun was cradled in the crook of one arm.
Joe was grinning. “You beat all, you know that? You probably added another page to the legend of Johnny McCabe.”
Johnny took a sip of coffee. “This legend nonsense is starting to get tiresome.”
“And yet you keep doing things that add to it. Just your nature, I guess.”
“Something about this place,” Johnny said, looking out over the darkened canyon floor. Soon it would be daylight, but the stars were still shining overhead. “I can see why Bernard Swan would want to build his home here. And I can see why Jessica doesn’t want to be driven off.”
“That’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
Johnny took another sip of coffee. He didn’t rush Joe. Many thought Joe to be a man of few words, but Johnny had found if you didn’t rush him, Joe had a lot to say. He just had to say it in his own time.
Joe said, “You’re a good tactical thinker. As good as that man Tremain I work for back in Texas. Maybe even better.”
Johnny waited. Joe looked off at the canyon floor. Johnny took another sip of coffee. It wasn’t trail coffee, but it struck Johnny as surprisingly good. Or maybe it was just that Jessica had made it. Maybe he would like anything that had her touch.
Joe said, “I’ve had some thoughts about this situation we’re in.”
“I’m listening.”
“How much money do you think they had in that house that went up flames? How much actual cash?”
Johnny shrugged. “I never thought to ask Matt.”
“I figure probably not much. This land isn’t really much of a frontier, anymore. The railroad’s here, and banks. Most likely they have most of their assets invested in various places and have most of their cash in the bank.”
Johnny nodded. “I ‘spect so.”
“And money is power.”
Johnny nodded.
“Which means Verna has a whole lot of power. She can just hire as many gunmen as she wants to. A small army, if she wants to. And from what I understand, Bernard Swan never actually filed a claim to this place.”
“He settled in here long enough ago that squatter’s rights might have some precedence.”
“That’s something to be argued in court. If Jessica can afford an attorney. And Verna can hire the best. And judges can be bought off. From what Dan was say
ing, it sounds like they’ve already done that.”
Johnny took another sip of coffee, letting himself digest what Joe was saying. He then said, “I guess I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“What I mean is, this here is what you might call a hopeless situation. Not that Jessica isn’t right morally. I think anyone with a good conscience would agree. But legal issues aren’t decided on a good conscience. Verna has the power to buy her way in court, and to hire enough men to outgun us. How long can we really hold out here?”
Johnny looked off at the canyon floor.
Joe said, “I see how you look at her. Something like how you looked at Lura. And I understand, believe me. I know how a woman can grab hold of a man’s heart and shape his thinking. But if you were in my place and looking at this more from the outside in, what would you say? From a military point of view, would you agree to make a stand here?”
“I’m not sure. But I do know Jessica’s not leaving. I talked to her about that already. It’s the only home her daughter has ever known.”
“Understand that I’m with you no matter what. If you want to make a stand here, I’m with you.”
Johnny said, “I know that.”
“But I’m afraid that, if she doesn’t leave she’s gonna end up dying here. And so will the rest of us.”
Joe turned and walked away and left Johnny standing alone with Joe’s words fresh in his mind. Johnny took another sip of coffee and looked off at the canyon floor. In the east, the sky began to lighten to a dull gray with the first promise of morning.
PART THREE
The Stand
23
The weeks went by and November blended into December. The nights turned off cold, enough to warrant a fire in the parlor hearth. Another problem, Johnny knew, would eventually be finding access to firewood. Here in this part of California there was very little. Wood was usually brought in from the mountains and purchased, and this would present a problem because he was sure Verna wouldn’t allow any firewood vendors to do business with them. And the mountains were too far away for Johnny and the others to feasibly cut the firewood themselves. He said nothing about this to Jessica, though he was sure she had thought about it as well.
Return of the Gunhawk (The McCabes Book 3) Page 21