“C’mere,” Johnny said.
She got to her feet and crossed the room and Johnny hoisted her up onto his knee.
He said, “You have one father, Cora. He’s in heaven now, but he’ll always be your father. I would never try to replace him. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be sort of your second father. I love your mother very much and I want you and her to come live with me and be my family.”
He waited while she digested all of that. She was in some ways so similar to Bree at that age, and yet so different. Hair that was sort of a reddish blonde, and she had pronounced reckless along her nose and cheeks and forehead.
She said, “I guess that would be okay. But what should I call you?”
He shrugged. “What would you like to call me?”
“I called my father Daddy.”
“Well, I don’t think that would work. That name should be for him alone. Don’t you think?”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Do you have any other kids?”
He said. “I have four of ‘em. They’re mostly all grown up now.”
“What’re their names?”
“Well, the oldest is Josh. He’s twenty-one, now.”
“Wow. He’s gettin’ old.”
Johnny nodded with a smile. “I’ll make sure and tell him that. And then there’s Dusty.”
“Dusty?” she said with a giggle. “Is he all covered with dust?”
Johnny smiled. “Only when he comes back from working with the cattle all day. We call him Dusty because his name’s actually Dustin. Then there’s Jack. He’s off in medical school, back east. Gonna be a doctor. And then there’s the youngest, my daughter Bree. Her real name is Virginia Sabrina. We call her Bree for short.”
“Do you think they’ll like me?”
“Oh, honey, I think they’ll love you. How could they not? You’re a great little girl.”
“Where’s their mama?”
“Oh, she died a long time ago.”
“Do you miss her?”
Johnny nodded. “Yes I do. I suppose I always will.”
“I miss my daddy too.”
“I think it’s good to miss those you love, when they go to heaven. But that doesn’t mean there’s not a whole lot of people here to love, too.”
“Sounds like you have a house-full.”
That brought a chuckle from Johnny. He also heard a soft giggle from across the room and saw Jessica was standing in the kitchen doorway watching them.
“Well,” Johnny said. “Looks like your mother is done with the coffee. I think it’s probably time for you to go to bed.”
Cora nodded. “Looks like.”
She hopped down and said, “You smell like cigars and leather.”
Johnny laughed again. “Is that all right?”
She nodded. “It’ll do. Good night.”
“Can I have a hug?”
She threw her little arms around him and he held her close. Then she scurried across the room to Jessica who took her hand and the two headed off down the hall.
Johnny drifted outdoors and went to the stone wall. No one was posted there at the moment because in the dark you couldn’t see the canyon entrance at all. He stood a moment and breathed the air and listened. All sounded as it should.
The kitchen door opened and Jessica stepped out and walked over to him. “She’s asleep.”
Johnny nodded. “She’s a great little girl.”
“You seem to be really adept at winning the hearts of Swan women.”
He pulled her to him. “Well, if you’re gonna do something, do it well. That’s what I always say.”
Their lips met, then she stood beside him looking down at the canyon. His arm was around her and she let her head settle onto his shoulder.
“Be careful out there tonight,” she said. “Come back to us.”
“I plan on always coming back to you.”
24
Matt said, “How do you plan on getting out of the canyon without being seen?”
Joe and Johnny were in the barn saddling their horses, and Matt was standing with them.
Johnny said, “No way we can ride out through that pass without being seen. If Wells is still having it watched.”
“You think he still is? After all these weeks?”
Johnny nodded. “I do.”
“Then, what’re you going to do?”
Joe said, “We’ll improvise.”
Johnny pulled the cinch tight. “When you’re riding into an unknown situation, it’s best not to have too many plans.”
They led their horses out of the barn. Jessica was waiting.
Johnny took Jessica into a hug.
He said, “I’ll be back.”
She said, “I’ll be waiting.”
Johnny swung into the saddle. Joe did the same. They started their horses down the long slope toward the canyon floor.
Jessica stood beside Matt and watched them go. She said, “I hate this. I wish he didn’t have to do this.”
“We have to find out what’s going on outside of this canyon. See if we can figure out what Verna’s planning. Johnny and Joe are the best two for the job.”
She nodded. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Come on. Let’s go in. It’s getting cold out here. I think I could go for some of that coffee you made.”
Johnny and Joe stepped out of their saddles and let the reins trail. They made the rest of the way through the pass on foot, the rock walls of the pass standing dark to either side of them.
At the point where the entrance to the canyon widened out, they dropped to the earth and crawled out the rest of the way, stopping when they had a clear view of the terrain beyond the pass.
They could see a fire flickering away from the rise where the fat oak tree stood. The place where Johnny had told Matt that he would be positioned if he had been assigned to watch the canyon.
“Not too smart of ‘em,” Joe said. “Tellin’ the world right where they are.”
“Hard thing to stand guard at night in cold like this without a fire.”
“It’s chilly, but it ain’t nothin’ like what you get up at your home in Montana.”
“Anything less than warm is cold.”
“Maybe I should write that one down.”
Johnny elbowed him.
Joe said, “It’s dark. Quarter moon up there. Bright enough that riders leaving the canyon will be seen from that rise, but dark enough that a man on foot could make it. Especially if there was a distraction.”
“Not a bad idea. And I know just the thing for the distraction. Come on, let’s head back to the horses. I’ve gotta get my deerskin boots on.”
Joe swung into the saddle and started for the open end of the pass, leading Thunder as he went. Thunder balked a bit at this.
“Be careful with him,” Johnny had said. “The stallion’s only half broke. Doesn’t take too kindly to riders he doesn’t know. There’s only maybe five of us can ride him at all.”
The stallion danced and pulled back on the rein. Joe had to grip it tightly.
“Hold on there, big fella,” he said. “You take off on me too soon and this won’t work.”
The horse didn’t listen. Joe didn’t really expect him to. The horse gave a pull, letting go with a violent snort as it did so. If the rein had been in Joe’s right hand, the one he had taken a bullet through a few years earlier in Texas, then Thunder would have pulled free. But Joe was holding it with his left, and he held on tight. To do this, he had to sling the scattergun over his back using a leather strap he had improvised. Thunder’s rein was in his left hand, and he held his own horse’s rein with his right.
With Thunder protesting, Joe rode from the canyon, keeping the horses to a quick walk. Once they were beyond the canyon entrance, Thunder gave a loud protest, a sort of shrieking whinney, and rose up on his hind hooves.
“Now hold on!” Joe shouted.
Thunder was not in a cooperative mood. He reared back again, with Joe ba
rely holding on. His horse decided to join the festivities and pulled back, and Joe was almost pulled from the saddle by Thunder.
Thunder then stood and looked at him, then gave a lurching bolt backwards, and the rein was free, and the stallion turned and galloped away into the night. Joe let out a stream of curses and then charged after him.
Which was all according to what Johnny figured would happen if a man Thunder didn’t know tried to lead him. Even Bree couldn’t ride this horse. Thunder could be loud and put on a show, and he had not failed to disappoint this time.
And while the whole thing had been happening, Johnny made his way out of the canyon on foot.
He was in his buckskin boots. He left his rifle in the saddle because if any shooting had to be done, it would be with a pistol at close range. Though he hoped to get this done without any shooting. Partly because it would be bad strategically—the sound of a gunshot could carry, especially at night. But also because of the trail of bodies he had left over the years. He didn’t want to add to it unless he had to, and he sometimes found it disturbing that he couldn’t count the number of men he had killed. Though sometimes at night their faces would come back to him in his dreams.
He could hear the hoof beats of both horses fade into the distance as he crouched and made his way toward the rise. The breeze was brisk and coming from the rise toward him, which meant the horses the sentries had likely picketed wouldn’t catch his scent.
He could hear voices.
A man, with a coarse voice. “What do you suppose that was about?”
Another man with a little higher vocal pitch, laughing. “I don’t know. But I’d say the horse won that little battle.”
“Where do you suppose he was goin?”
Another chuckle. “I have no idea.”
Johnny was close enough now that he could see the men in the firelight. One man, the first who had spoken, lifted a bottle to his mouth. Then the man said, “You know, you gotta wonder why a man would need to bring along a second saddle horse.”
The first man shrugged. He was kneeling by the fire, poking at it with a long stick. “Maybe he was goin’ to pick someone up somewheres.”
“I wonder if one of us should ride into town and tell Wells.”
Johnny drew his gun and cocked it. The sound was loud in the night and the head of each man snapped in his direction.
Johnny said, “Neither of you are riding anywhere. And don’t go for those guns or I’ll plant a bullet in you.”
He stepped into the firelight. “Mighty nice of you both to have this fire. Let us know you were here.”
Both men raised their hands. The one with the whiskey bottle said, “We don’t mean no trouble out there, Mister McCabe. We’s just followin’ orders.”
“Then it’s not worth dying over.”
Both men shook their heads eagerly. The first one said, “No, sir.”
“Then, draw those guns and drop the bullets on the ground.”
They did as they were told. Both had Colt revolvers. They held their pistols upright, opened the loading gate on each, and spun the cylinders while the bullets fell out.
Johnny said, “Now toss those guns into the fire.”
They did as they were told.
Johnny said, “I’m not going to steal your horses, but I’m going to borrow them. I have to ride after my brother and help him run down my stallion. Your horses will be in town waiting for you.”
“But,” the second man said, “how are we gonna get to town?”
“By walking. If you start now you should be there by morning.”
Both horses were still saddled. The cinches had been loosened so Johnny tightened one and then swung into the saddle.
He said, “I would start walking now. It’s going to get mighty cold standing out here.”
The one with the bottle said, “If it’s all the same to you, Mister McCabe, we’d like to wait by the fire tonight and start walking in the morning.”
“Suit yourself,” and Johnny turned the horse and, leading the other, started off in the direction in which Joe had disappeared.
25
Verna stood in front of the little brick hearth of the farmhouse. She would be in her new mansion within a month, but for the moment had to conduct business here. If she were a man, she thought, she would simply set up an office in San Francisco and work out of there. But women did not have their own offices. Maybe someday. There was a political movement starting to gain momentum back east. They called it Women’s Suffrage in the papers.
In the center of the room stood Wells. Smelling of sweat and whiskey, like he usually did. And with him was a man who she found truly frightening. Long black hair fell to his shoulders. His face was deeply lined. In a couple of places she thought the lines might be scars, but for the most part his face looked like it did simply from rough living. He had a look of lifelessness in his eyes. Like he was so filled with sadism and the joy of killing that there was very little human being left within him.
Oh, Verna had killed. Sometimes it was necessary and she was not squeamish about it. But to do so simply for some sort of insane pleasure was a different thing entirely.
He wore a black stetson with a hatband that was decorated in what looked like Indian turquois and various shades of red. He wore a buckskin shirt. A knife so long it looked more like a small sword was sheathed at his right side and a pistol was at his left, turned backward for a cross-draw.
“Ma’am,” Wells said, “this is Will Buck.”
“Buck?” she said. “Is that short for something?”
The man shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
Wells said, “Buck, this is Verna McCabe.”
“The queen bee,” he said.
She could not tell if he was grinning or sneering. Or both. Maybe a man like this didn’t have enough humanity left within him to truly smile.
She decided to ignore his remark. Partly because she didn’t want him to grow angry with her and decide to make her a target, and partly because she wanted to get down to business.
“I want to hire you,” she said. “I need someone killed.”
“Who?”
“Actually, very likely more than one.”
She explained there was a canyon where some people were being holed up. She told him where it was and gave him a rough description of the features of the canyon. Namely that there was only one way in or out, and the walls were too sheer to be scaled.
“I need Johnny McCabe killed.”
He raised a brow at this. “Johnny McCabe? The gunfighter?”
“The very one. And his brother Matt. And anyone else in that canyon who gets in your way. I’ll pay you a full thousand for the death of each McCabe. Two hundred each for the others”
He shook his head. “Didn’t know it was Johnny McCabe I was going up against. That could be suicide.”
“Are you afraid?”
He didn’t react. His eyes didn’t even flicker. She wondered if he was even capable of human emotion.
He said, in a flat voice, “I ain’t afraid of nothin’, ma’am. But I know what I’m up against.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear about him.”
“I actually met him once. Years ago, in a saloon. I could tell by the way he moved, the look in his eye. He’s the most dangerous man I ever met. It’s gonna cost you more.”
She sighed. So this was it. Money. It always came down to money. She cast a glance at Hiram, who stood across the room from her. He gave a weary shake of the head.
“How much?” she said.
“Five thousand for him.”
This made her eyes pop open. “Five thousand dollars? That’s more than a miner will make in ten years.”
“None of your miners are goin’ up against Johnny McCabe.”
Verna sighed. She didn’t want to part with the cash. But she had hired a detective to look far and wide to find a man who was capable of holding his own with Matt’s brother.
She said,
“All right. I’ll pay you half now and half when you’re finished.”
He shook his head. “I don’t take money for a job till I done it.”
“When will you do it?”
“Right now.” He glanced at a grandfather clock standing against the far wall. It read twenty-two past nine. “I’ll leave right now. If the canyon is where you say it is, I’ll be a couple hours gettin’ there in the dark. Another hour maybe, scoutin’ the place out. Then I’ll go in and do it.”
“Just like that? Go in and do it? I’m sure they have the entrance well guarded.”
“I don’t want anyone to see me, they won’t. I’ll be back tomorrow to collect my money. Have it in twenties, fives and ones.”
And without another word he turned and stepped out the door and closed it behind him.
Hiram had been standing back, watching the whole thing. “Mother! What are we doing now? Hiring thugs?”
“We hire the men we need to do the job, no matter which facet of the business we are dealing with.” She looked at Wells. “Is he really as good as he says he is? Can he really just waltz into that canyon unseen and kill Johnny McCabe? Many have tried, and they’re all in the ground.”
Wells said, “I’d start getting the money together.”
Johnny carried no watch, but estimated the time to be midnight or a little after, judging by the position of the moon. He expected the town to be pretty much closed up for the night. Stores with darkened windows and locked doors, houses in a similar situation, streets empty. And yet what he and Joe found were riders charging up and down the street firing their guns into the air. Shouting and cheering. Saloons were open.
Johnny and Joe slipped in through an alley. A bonfire in the center of the main street was burning wildly, but they held back in the shadows of the alley so they wouldn’t be seen.
“Wonder what’s going on here?” Joe asked.
“I can’t imagine.”
They heard a women laughing hysterically from above. They were in the alley beside the Cattleman’s Lounge, and there was a second floor balcony overlooking the street. A man stopped in the street not far from the alley and took a deep pull from a bottle and then howled like a wolf.
Return of the Gunhawk (The McCabes Book 3) Page 23