Johnny rounded up Thunder and Dusty switched saddles with another horse and the two scouted about. They found one dead steer. Stampedes were dangerous for the animals doing the stampeding, also. And they found a couple more of Wells’ men, dead.
They returned to camp and soon it was daylight. Jessica and Lettie made a breakfast for everyone, and the camp was cleaned up. The dead bodies of Wells and his men were hauled to a point outside of camp.
“We should probably bury them,” Matt said. “If we leave them here they’ll become coyote bait and we can’t take them with us.”
“What about the one that’s alive?” Dusty said.
“I think we should make for Elkwood so we can regroup and nurse the wounded. We can turn over the one survivor to the marshal there.”
Johnny was kneeling by the fire, chewing on a slice of bacon, and with a tin cup of coffee in one hand. He was not standing because he wanted to give his injured knee a rest. Nothing seemed broken but the kneecap was bruised and the joint didn’t feel strong. A bullet had torn through his shirt and grazed his shoulder, but it was little more than a scrape.
Jessica and Lettie gone into a tent to tend to Tom. After a while, Jessica came out to the fire to pour some coffee, and Johnny asked how his nephew was.
“Hurt worse than he wants to admit,” she said. “The bullet that grazed his ribs tore him up and we had to give him five stitches. He might have a cracked rib.”
She took a sip of coffee. “I’ve learned to deal with wounds and injuries at the ranch. Broken bones. A cowhand got himself gored by a steer once. I had to treat gunshot wounds twice. But we could use a real doctor. I’d like that knee of yours checked out.”
“It’ll be all right.”
She ignored him. “Matt’s hurt, probably worse than he wants to admit. Like father, like son. Zack’s shoulder is so bad he can barely move his arm.”
“Matt’s been talking about the town of Elkwood. Two days at the rate we’ve been traveling. Maybe we can push the mules a little harder and get there in a day and a half.”
That was when he noticed two riders coming. He rose to his feet. Since the bacon had been in his left, he was holding the coffee with his right, so he tossed the cup away to free his gun hand. He was too hungry to toss the bacon away. One thing about a gun battle, it could make a man powerfully hungry.
He was about to call out that riders were coming, but he didn’t. He recognized them. One was Joe, and the other was Dan.
“That coffee smells mighty good,” Joe said, swinging out of the saddle.
“Where have you been?”
“Scoutin’ the area. Makin’ sure there weren’t more of them out there. Found Dan out there.”
Dan said, “I tried to stay with the herd. Tried to get ahead of ‘em to turn ‘em and slow ‘em off.”
Ches was sitting on an overturned barrel. “Sounds like we had the same idea.”
“But then my horse went down and I got thrown. Lucky I wasn’t trampled.”
“Sounds like we had about the same results.”
Johnny said to Joe, You could have told someone you were out there scouting.”
Joe grabbed Johnny’s discarded cup and filled it from the kettle.
He said, “Didn’t want to take the time, and I didn’t want anyone who might be watchin’ this camp to know I was out there. But I could see you all were all right.”
“We didn’t see you,” Johnny said, finishing off the bacon that had been in his hand.
He grinned. “Nobody sees me if’n I don’t want ‘em to.
He took a sip of coffee. “There’s no one else out there. All of ‘em are dead, except for the one you got tied to that wagon wheel. I scouted their back trail a few miles, and there’s no one there. Ben’s dead, though. Found his body. Or what’s left of it.”
Johnny shook his head. He didn’t like that news. “Ben was a good man.”
Jessica and Cora walked over to Johnny. He lifted Cora with one arm, despite the protests his knee gave him, and with his free hand he pulled Jessica in for a hug.
“I’m so scared,” Cora said.
“Nothing to be scared of,” Johnny said, “Not anymore.”
36
Joe hadn’t been injured so he stayed behind to round up some of the herd. After a stampede like that you couldn’t expect to find them all, but he hoped to find most of them. Dusty was staying, too. Dan had been a little shaken up when his horse tripped and slammed him on the ground, but he wasn’t seriously hurt so he was staying to help, too.
The wagons arrived in Elkwood the following afternoon. The doctor there determined Zack’s shoulder was badly wrenched, but nothing seemed to be broken. He had been thrown by his horse and then struck by a steer, and the shoulder might have separated a bit, but was back in place now. Johnny’s knee just needed rest. The doctor determined Johnny might have suffered a concussion when he was knocked unconscious, but the worst of it seemed to be behind him. His shoulder had been bruised but not badly. Matt had a twisted ankle and a cracked rib from where a bullet had grazed him, but he would be all right. Tom had a cracked rib also, and the bullet had cut into him more deeply, but the doctor thought the wound was clean and healing nicely.
“We’ll wait here,” Johnny said. “Rest up and give the boys time to round up those steers.”
After seeing the doctor, Johnny and Matt headed to a small saloon that was attached to the hotel, and took a table. They each had a glass of scotch in front of them.
Matt said, “We’re not staying in the tents. I still have a lot of money left, and we’re going to use hotel rooms.”
Johnny couldn’t argue with that. Everyone was shaken up and he thought they would recover faster if they were in warm beds.
“In fact,” Matt said, “I’ve been doing some thinking. Why don’t we just wait out the winter right here? Not take that long, roundabout journey we had planned.”
“It wouldn’t be fair for you to burn what’s left of your money on hotel rooms for all of us. Once your money is gone, it’s gone.”
“Don’t think twice about that. I’ve talked to Peddie and Tom about it, and they’re in agreement. We rest up here until the snow in the mountain passes has cleared away, and then we cut straight through and on up to Montana.”
Johnny had to admit, he was tired. He had been through a lot since arriving in California and he was just plain tired. To the bone. His body was telling him he wasn’t a young man anymore.
“All right,” he said. “You’ve sold me on the idea.”
They had been in Elkwood four days when Hiram McCabe arrived.
Johnny had enjoyed a long bath and was cleanly shaven and wearing freshly laundered clothes. He and Jessica were standing on the boardwalk in front of the hotel enjoying the morning air when they heard a train whistle.
“Won’t be long before we’re hearing those in Montana,” Johnny said.
“Is that a bad thing? After all, it’ll make delivering cattle to a buyer a lot easier. And shipping goods to and from.”
“All of that’s true. But in a way I hate to see it happen. I’ve always been drawn to remote areas. With the train will come more settlers, and the home I’ve built there will become less remote.”
They stood in silence for a few moments, the way a man and woman do when they’re comfortable with each other. Not every moment has to be filled with words.
Then Johnny said, “You know, I’m thinking maybe I should ride out and help the boys with the round up.”
She shook her head. “Not with your knee the way it is. I think you should just stay right here in town and rest up.”
“You do, do you?” He looked at her with a grin. “Been a long time since I had a woman care about me.”
“I’m sure your daughter does. And Aunt Ginny.”
“It’s not the same thing”
“Well, get used to it.” She returned the grin. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
They stood in comfortable silence
for a few moments more. Then she said, “Is that who I think it is?”
Johnny saw she was looking down the street, so he followed her gaze and saw a familiar dandy walking along a boardwalk toward them. A bowler, a tie, a vest and a jacket. He had a couple of men with him who looked like two-bit wanna-be gunfighters.
“Hiram Mccabe,” Johnny said.
Jessica shook her head wearily. “When will the trouble he’s been bringing us end?”
Hiram stopped in front of them. “Uncle Johnny.”
“Hiram. I’ll honestly admit, I was hoping we had seen the last of you.”
“That’s not very friendly.”
“Ain’t feeling very friendly at the moment.”
“I was looking for my father.”
Johnny said, “He’s in the hotel. In the dining room.”
Hiram looked at Jessica and touched the brim of his bowler. She simply stared at him, not acknowledging his gesture with the usual nod of the head.
Hiram didn’t say another word, but turned away from them and strode into the hotel lobby. One of the gunfighters stood a moment and glared at Johnny trying to make his presence felt. Johnny simply stared back. The man turned and he and the other one went into the hotel behind Hiram.
Johnny and Jessica followed them all into the dining room. Matt and Peddie were at a table having a late breakfast and looked up to see Hiram standing there.
“Father,” He said. “We need to talk.”
Matt rose to his feet. Not like a gentleman receiving a guest, but as a man expecting trouble.
Matt said, “I’m sure you heard what happened out there. The attack on our camp. The stampede.”
Hiram nodded. “It was regrettable. I’m glad you survived.”
“Are you really?”
Hiram looked a little wounded. “Of course I am. Murder is not a game I want to get into.”
“Your mother seems to have no qualms about it. I have no doubt she sent those men.”
“Mother’s dead.”
This gave Matt pause for a moment. “What happened?”
“She died in her sleep.”
Matt supposed maybe he should say something. Offer a word of consolation. Maybe he should feel something. Sadness over a life lost, considering she was the mother of his children. But instead he felt nothing at all.
He sat back down, and Hiram joined them at the table even though neither he nor Peddie had invited him.
“Father, we need to talk.”
“There’s nothing more to say. You’re my son and always will be. But you follow her ways. There’s never been much of me in you, I’m afraid. I’m sure part of that’s my fault. Maybe most of it. I don’t know.”
“I’ve got to tell you something. You’re not my father.”
This got Matt’s full attention.
“Look at me, Father. Really look at me. There’s no McCabe in me. Mother said Timmons was my father, and I believe her.”
Matt let out a sigh. He wasn’t shocked. He supposed on some level he knew it all along. He glanced to Johnny, who was still standing with Jessica by the table. He could see no surprise in his brother’s eyes. Johnny must have figured it out, too.
Matt said, “Then why do you call me Father?”
“All right then,” Hiram said. “Matt.”
“What’s next?” Johnny said. “Do you send more riders?”
Hiram shook his head. “I just want a promise from you,” he was looking at Matt, “that you won’t come back and make any legal trouble for me.”
“I signed off my rights to your money.”
“In this society, you can never really sign away your rights. You could always come back and fight for partial ownership. You might win, you might not, but you could tie up my assets for a long time.”
“You have my word,” Matt said, “that I don’t want anything that’s yours.”
Hiram said, “I hope I can count on that.”
Johnny said, “When Matt gives his word, it’s as good as chiseled in stone.”
Matt said, “Hiram, it’s a little too crowded in here. There’s not enough room for you and me. Why don’t you do something about that? You know where the door is.”
Hiram gave Matt a long look and then rose to his feet. He said to the two gunfighters standing behind him. “Come on. We’re catching the next train back to Greenville.”
They crossed the room and were gone.
Peddie reached over to Matt and placed her hand on his. “Are you all right?”
Matt looked at her and smiled. “Strangely, I am. For the first time in a long, long time.”
Hiram reserved a private car on the train. He felt it would be unthinkable for a man of his stature in society to sit with the common people. He told his bodyguards to stay outside, then stepped into his car intending to have a glass of scotch and look at some ledgers. He was serious about acquiring a shipping business and would need to shuffle some funds so he could do so. He also wanted to write a letter to his lawyer in San Francisco instructing him to begin checking out residential properties for him.
He shut the door and took three steps toward his desk before he looked up and realized someone was sitting there.
It was his brother Tom.
To which, Hiram said the predictable thing. “Tom.”
Tom was in a white shirt and a range jacket made of that new denim material some of the cowhands were wearing.
“Hiram,” Tom said.
“How’d you get in here?”
“That’s not the question,” Tom said. “The question is, what am I doing here?”
Hiram didn’t know if he should be afraid or not. But then realized there was no need for fear. This was Tom. His brother, who didn’t have the spine to do what had to be done. Who had left the family to run a church.
“All right,” Hiram said. “I’ll play along. What are you doing here?”
Tom said, “I’m here to give you a warning.”
Hiram chuckled. “A warning? You? Are you serious?”
Hiram then noticed there was something different about his brother. A look in his eyes. Steely hard. It reminded him a little of his uncle Johnny. What was going on here?
Tom rose to his feet and Hiram saw he was wearing a gun. A cartridge belt was buckled about his hips and a revolver was holstered at his right side. It was not slung low or tied down, but it was there.
“Tom, when did you start wearing a gun?”
“When men of yours attacked us. There were women and children there. My wife was there. And my daughter. I had to kill two of those men myself.”
Hiram’s brows rose a bit. “You? You killed a man?”
Tom walked toward him. “A line was crossed. And it wasn’t just crossed by me. It was crossed by you, too.”
“Tom, Mother’s dead.”
Tom didn’t even flinch. “She’s been dead a long time, Hiram.”
Hiram didn’t know quite how to react to that. But he knew that, for the first time in his life, his older brother was scaring him. He took a step backward.
Hiram said, “I didn’t send those men. Mother did. Before she died. By the time I knew about it, it was too late to call them back.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Hiram took another step backward. “Look, Tom, I have two bodyguards outside.”
“Go ahead and call them. See what happens.”
Hiram didn’t call them.
Tom stepped around the desk and stopped within reaching distance of his brother. He said, “Leave us alone, Hiram. If anything happens like what happened out on the trail, if you ever interfere in our lives again, I will find you. And I’ll put a bullet in your head.”
“I...I thought..,” Hiram was stammering. He didn’t usually face danger. He paid men to face it for him. “I thought you were a man of God.”
“I am. But even a man of God has to make a stance sometimes. You forced me into it when those men attacked. Make no mistake, I’ll but a bullet in you and not lose an
y sleep over it.”
Hiram swallowed hard but said nothing.
Tom pushed past him and stepped out the door. He stepped past Hiram’s guards without even looking at them, and climbed down to the street and walked away.
37
Spring brought with it warmer days, and a stand of oaks off to the west were full with green leaves. Wild flowers stood tall in the grass and bobbed their heads in a light breeze.
Johnny was in his saddle atop a low grassy hill, watching the wagons move along, and Dusty sat beside him. They had all left Elkwood that morning. Jessica had the team, and from the wagon seat she threw a wave at Johnny and he smiled and returned the wave.
Behind them, maybe a quarter mile maybe less, was the herd. Twenty-eight head had died in the stampede, and twelve more were unaccounted for. Not bad, Johnny thought. He had seen worse results after a stampede.
After a lot of thought, they had changed their plans. They were now headed north. They would ride into Oregon and then cut east and through the mountains into Montana. Reversing the path Zack and Dusty had taken.
Johnny had written Aunt Ginny a letter during their stay in Elkwood. Matt pulled strings with the railroad so it would be delivered to Cheyenne only a few days later, and from there taken to McCabe Gap. He wanted to tell her Dusty and Zack arrived safely and to prepare her a little for the changes in his life. Tell her about Jessica and Cora.
Johnny had felt so weary when they first arrived in Elkwood. Now he was rested and again felt alive. His love for Jessica was filling him, and he found himself enjoying the morning sun on his shoulders. His knee was much better. It was not entirely right. It creaked when he knelt down, and sometimes in the morning was a little stiff. Probably always would be.
A sweet scent drifted its way up from the flowers in the grass. He remembered Lura had loved mornings like this. At one time the very thought would have filled him with grief and the guilt he had carried with him for so many years. But now that was all gone.
It’s a beautiful morning, Lura, he said to himself. On some level he thought maybe she could hear him. And he could imagine her smiling. He thought he caught a sudden touch of peach blossom on the morning air.
Return of the Gunhawk (The McCabes Book 3) Page 33