Matt said to Johnny, “I guess I’m glad I brought you along after all. This roll of bills would make me a target, but no one’s going to tackle me with the legendary Johnny McCabe by my side.”
Matt had said with a grin. One thing the McCabe brothers were good at was poking fun at one another.
“Oh, be quiet.” Johnny couldn’t help but return the grin.
They stood outside the judge’s office on the boardwalk. One of their men had driven Verna and Hiram in a carriage. It was painted black with the words McCABE RANCH, GREENVILLE, CALIFORNIA on the side in red. He had left it at the livery and had now gone to fetch it.
Johnny had noticed Verna was standing with a cane, and when she climbed steps she did so as though each step was a bit of a struggle. But she said nothing and Matt didn’t comment.
While Verna and Hiram stood waiting for their driver, and Matt and Johnny stood with them, Verna said, “Well, Matthew, it looks like you won this round. Cherish it while you can. When it comes to me, you are not able to play on the same level as I am. You don’t have the brains, or the backbone.”
Matt was smoking a cigar given him by the judge. Not the caliber of the cigars he had been sharing with his brothers, but good enough.
He said, “You fail to understand the situation, Verna. This is not a game. It’s not about me beating you, or vice-versa.”
“What is it then?”
“It’s about you leaving me alone. Simple as that. Your vast fortune is yours. Just leave me and mine alone.”
“It’s never as simple as that.”
“Sometimes it is.”
Matt said to Hiram, “Son, you’ll always be welcome at my fire. As long as you’re not bringing trouble with you. Otherwise, I want to be left alone.”
He then said to Verna, “I and the others with me plan to ride out of here. If all goes well, you’ll never hear from me again. But understand this—the man I let myself become over the years is gone. I’m a gunhawk. I should never have let myself forget this. If you ever bring trouble to me or mine again, I’ll deal with it like a gunhawk.”
She rolled her eyes and signed wearily. “And what, pray-tell, does that mean?”
“It means I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”
With that he turned from her and walked toward the hitching rail where his horse and Johnny’s waited for them.
Johnny gave Verna a long look. He had also come along to say some words to her. Let her know how little he appreciated having false charges levied against him. But nothing he could say could compare to Matt’s parting words.
Johnny also had taken a cigar from the judge and smoked it down to a nub, so he tossed it to the boardwalk and followed his brothers to the horses.
Johnny was riding a roan gelding he had taken from Jessica’s remuda. Thought he might give Thunder a little rest, considering they had a long ride ahead of them.
Johnny and Matt swung into the saddle. Matt gave Verna a long look, then reached a hand up to touch the brim of his hat to her, and he and Johnny rode away down the street.
“He’s a dead man,” Verna said to Hiram.
This caught Hiram by surprise. “Mother?”
Verna said nothing. She let her gaze drift down the street to where the carriage was approaching. A Mexican man in a flat-brimmed sombrero was on the seat. One of the men who had stayed when Ben Harris and the other two had ridden out. Pedro, Verna thought his name was. Or Mario. Or something. She didn’t consider remembering the names of the men who worked for her important.
“Mother,” Hiram said, “what are you talking about? We won. We have almost the entire fortune. Like he said, the ten thousand he got was barely a drop in the bucket. We won’t even miss it.”
“We won, yes, but on his terms. Not mine. It’s not good enough.”
The driver swung the team so the carriage would sidle up to the boardwalk, and then Hiram offered his mother a hand to help her up and into the carriage. There was a back seat, upholstered with soft leather, which she took. Hiram then landed beside her. The carriage had a roll-top which was lowered.
She said, “Take us home, Pedro.”
It didn’t matter what his name was. He was wise enough not to correct her if she was wrong.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and clicked the team forward.
“Mother,” Hiram said, “sometimes a win is a win. We should consider ourselves lucky. A long, involved divorce proceeding could have tied up or assets in civil court for years.”
“No,” she said. “It’s not enough to simply win. It’s how you win. And my dear ex-husband is going to learn that. The hard way."
31
Johnny sat with Jessica at the kitchen table with coffee, and told her about his and Matt’s meeting with Verna and Hiram. He left out Matt’s parting words to Verna.
Jessica said, “That has to be the quickest divorce I’ve ever seen.”
Johnny nodded in agreement and took a sip of coffee. “I suppose when you want something bad enough and have the money to make it happen, it can happen as quickly as you want it.”
Matt and Peddie came into the room from the parlor. Matt said, “That coffee smells good.”
“Help yourself,” Jessica said.
Lettie was cooking dinner. Frying steak with some wild onions. Where Tom was, Johnny didn’t know. He was concerned about his nephew. Not so much Tom’s request to be taught how to shoot a man, which was essentially what he had asked, but the way he had asked it.
Jessica said, “Since the business with Verna is concluded, and since I’ve made the decision to give up this place, I’d like to get moving as soon as possible. Like you said, Johnny, the war isn’t over. She lost the first battle, but this will never be over until we’re out of this canyon.”
Johnny said, “So, when do you want to leave?”
“Tomorrow, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Well,” Johnny glanced at Matt, “there are lot of logistics to be considered.”
Peddie said, “Logistics?”
“A military term,” Matt said. “Plans we have to make. We can’t just start out without provisions. It’s going to be a long journey all the way to Montana.”
The door opened as Matt was speaking and Joe stepped in. He had been tending the horses. It was brisk outside and he was rubbing his hands together.
“Hey, Joe,” Johnny said. “You want to join us? We’re making plans for the journey.”
Jessica said, “If we can’t leave tomorrow, then I’d like it to be the day after tomorrow. We have three men buried out back, and the longer we stay here, the greater the likelihood that we’ll have more.”
Joe poured a cup of coffee and joined them at the table. “We’re gonna need supplies. Lots of ‘em. And a wagon. At least one.”
Matt said, “We have money. I have a whole roll of it now. More than enough to bankroll this operation.”
Jessica shook her head. “I don’t want to be beholden to anyone.”
“Well, it looks to me like we’re all in this together, now. I’m the one with the money, Johnny and Joe and Zack have the expertise we’ll need for a journey like this. I have the feeling Dusty knows a fair bit about such a thing, too. You have the cattle.”
Peddie said, “I can cook. Jessie and Lettie can, too.”
“Of course,” Joe said, “we’ll be needing to butcher a steer or two along the way for beef, and we’ll lose a few head along the way because you always do in a long cattle drive. But most of ‘em should make it to Montana.”
Jessica said to Matt, “I wouldn’t feel right if you didn’t take partial ownership of the herd in exchange for the money you’ll be putting up.”
Matt shook his head. “I was thinking of maybe starting up a small ranch when we got to Montana.”
And so, with a handshake deal, the Swan-McCabe Cattle Company was formed, with Jessica and Matt as the co-owners.
“We’ll need two wagons,” Joe said. “Big ones. And horses. We’ll have to fill out th
e remuda a little. We’ll have six drovers, from what I can see. Besides myself, and Johnny and Matt, we’ll have Ben Harris. But we should only need four drovers with the herd at any one time. The other riders can be with the wagons, or scouting ahead.”
Johnny said, “We’ll need flour, lots of it. Sacks of coffee. Canned goods. A team of mules for both wagons. And ammunition.”
Joe said, “We can go into town tomorrow. Presuming they’ll sell to us.”
“They’ll sell to us,” Matt said.
“Leavin’ this time of year, we’re gonna have to swing south. The mountain passes are gonna be filled with snow, so we’ll have to swing south enough that it won’t be a problem.”
Johnny said, “Not as far south as the Mojave, but close enough. Then we’ll have to cross New Mexico Territory, into northern Texas. Then, from there, start making our way north.”
Joe nodded. “It’ll be a lot longer than the first time we did this. It was late spring and the mountains were passable.”
“We’re adding three months easy to our travel time. Won’t see Montana before May, I don’t think.”
Jessica said, “Maybe we should wait for spring.”
Matt shook his head. “I don’t think so. I know Verna better’n anyone here, and it’s only gonna be a matter of time before she comes for us.”
“But,” Peddie said, “Marshal Aikens made them all back down.”
“The marshal is on his way to Sacramento. She’ll let things set for a while, but then she’ll be hiring gunfighters and coming after us again. And I have the feeling she won’t wait long. I’d rather have the extra months on the trail.”
Joe said, “In a lot of ways, it won’t be as hard as it was the first time. Back then, it was just open country between here and Montana. A couple forts. A few trading posts. Now there are towns. We can stop along the way, let some of the women folk grab a hotel room for a few nights to rest up from the trail.”
“Women folk?” Matt said. “I’ll be grabbing a hotel room to rest up from the trail.”
They all laughed.
Joe said, “We’ll need tents and cots. Lanterns. Cans of kerosene.”
Jessica said, “We have an axe. Some pick-axes, too.”
“Good. We’ll have to bring ‘em all. A few coils of rope. What was here got lost in the barn fire.”
“There’s one more thing.” Jessica looked to Johnny. “I want us to be married before we start out. I know you wanted your children and their aunt to be present, but I want to do this journey as man and wife.”
This caught him a little by surprise. Not that she wanted to marry him, but that she didn’t want to wait.
She said, “When I make up my mind to do something, then I want to do it.”
Johnny smiled. “I think that’s reasonable.”
“Sure is,” Matt said.
The following morning, Joe, Zack and Matt started saddling up to get an early start into town.
Dusty said, “Want some company? I made this ride once myself, though I did it alone.”
Matt said, “Any suggestions you might have would be welcomed.”
Once in town, Matt strode into the general store. He had known the owner of the store for years. Phil Medwick. One of those men who was heavy-set but in a strong way. A thick stomach but a chest just as thick. Wide shoulders. Even his fingers were thick.
Matt dropped a roll of ten dollar bills on the counter top. “Phil, do you think you’ll be able to lift the ban on doing business with us?”
Phil eyed that roll of bills. “I think I just might be persuaded.”
Zack and Dusty picked out two wagons. They belonged to the livery, but the owner was willing to part with them for the right price.
Zack said, “Oxen or mules? Most settlers preferred one or the other. There’s arguments for and against either.”
“Mules,” Dusty said, without hesitation. “In a pinch, you can ride a mule. I’ve never met a man who could ride an ox very far.”
Joe and Zack would have both preferred contestoga wagons with bonnets, but buckboards were all that was available on short notice.
Dusty said, “We can cover the cargo with a canvas tarp. Better than nothing.”
While Medwick was filling the wagons with the supplies Matt had, they all headed to the gunsmith shop.
Joe said to the man behind the counter, “We’ll need all the forty-four-forty ammunition you have. Every single box of it.”
“Let me see that rifle,” Dusty said, indicating the rifle rack behind the counter, and the third rifle from the left.
The man handed it to Dusty. It was a lever action, but didn’t have the customary magazine under the barrel as a Winchester did.
Matt said, “A Spencer.”
Dusty jacked open the chamber to make sure it was empty—proper gun safety—then sighted in on an imaginary target across the room. “The best repeater ever made. Had me one, once. Been out of production now for maybe ten years.”
Dusty looked to the man behind the counter. “How much for it?”
Matt said, “Throw it in with the lot.”
“Uncle Matt, I can’t ask you to pay for my personal rifle.”
“You didn’t ask.” He looked to the man behind the counter. “Throw it in.”
They returned to the canyon with two wagons each pulled by a team of mules. The wagons were loaded with sacks of coffee, flour and salt. They also had a few bolts of fabric to replace any clothing lost along the way. It might seem like a frill, but hole in the knees of your jeans could be mighty annoying when you’re trying to stay warm and dry and still have a thousand miles of trail ahead of you.
They had bales of rope and lanterns and cans of kerosene. They had cans of beans and peaches. And they had cots, and four large Army tents.
“Can’t have the women sleeping on the open ground,” Matt said.
Joe even grabbed four bottles of scotch and one of Kentucky whiskey.
When they got back and Johnny saw the whiskey, Dusty said, “Jack’s gonna wish he was with us. He has a passion for Kentucky whiskey.”
Johnny looked at his son. “I didn’t know that.”
It occurred to Dusty that his pa thought Jack was back in medical school. He didn’t know Jack had given that up and was now the town marshal back home.
Dusty said, “I got a lot of things to tell you about Jack. But it can wait. We have a long ride ahead of us. We’ll have a lot of time for talking.”
Johnny found Tom out back. Tom had an axe in his hands and his sleeves rolled up. They would need firewood for their journey, and the less they had to split on the road, the better off they would be. Matt had gotten a length of canvas to tie under the wagon for carrying firewood, and Tom wanted to fill it as much as he could.
Johnny noticed Tom’s forearms were thick and strong, with veins standing out like most strong men had on their muscles.
Johnny said, “McCabes have always been strong men. It seems to come naturally. It’s like there’s a sort of power that carries on throughout the generations. Even my daughter Bree could beat most of the boys at arm-wrestling when she was in school.”
Tom said, “I’m afraid I pale by comparison to you and Uncle Joe.”
“You’d be wrong. I’m the weakest of my brothers. Always have been.”
Tom looked at him with a little disbelief.
Johnny said, “Your father might be built narrower than I am, but he could always beat Joe and me at arm wrestling. Joe could beat me, but your father could beat both of us. And despite how diplomatic he can be, and a beautiful talker, I’ve never met anyone who could throw a punch like him.”
Tom paused a moment, giving that some thought. Johnny thought Tom looked like a man who thought he had known his father, but was discovering little by little that he really did not.
Tom went back to the woodpile.
Johnny said, “I come looking for you. Jessica and I want to be married, and we want it to be today.”
Tom was abo
ut to begin a swing at a chunk of wood that was about to become two or three smaller chunks, but stopped and looked at his uncle. “And I’m the only preacher available.”
“Jess and I talked about it. You’re the one we would want, regardless.”
Tom held the end of the axe handle with one hand, and let the head drop to the ground. “I don’t think I’m worthy. Up until a few months ago, I thought being a pastor was my life’s work. Now I don’t know what direction the Lord is leading me in. I thought I knew so much about faith.”
Johnny said, “Some say faith brings you comfort. I’ve always found faith brings you questions, which lead to more answers and from there to more questions.”
“I’ve thought long about what happened back at the house. That man who was holding Lettie. Threatening to do unspeakable things to her. And you ended the threat with one bullet to the man’s head.”
Johnny waited. He wanted to hear the man out.
“I’ve long followed the Good Book. I decided I wanted to be a minister when I was fifteen. And in the Good Book, it says Thou shalt not kill.”
“The Ten Commandments.”
Tom nodded. “And Jesus said we are to turn the other cheek. And yet, there you were, faced with a situation that seems to me gave you two choices, both of them wrong. Kill the man, which violates the teachings of Jesus as well as the Ten Commandments, or let him assault Lettie. Which would also make you potentially guilty because if you have the ability to stop a crime but don’t, it makes you guilty at least to a degree.”
Johnny nodded. “I’ve had those thoughts myself, over the years.”
“And yet you chose to kill the man, without even a second thought.”
“I made a decision, long ago, that when I’m confronted with a situation like that, when I have two choices and both of them seem wrong, to pick the one that causes the least amount of harm.”
Return of the Gunhawk (The McCabes Book 3) Page 29