“Oh, it’s not just that. It’s this bigger thing as well. I don’t know how much trouble Cronin wants to go to.”
“He ought to be running low on thugs, shouldn’t he?”
Fielding let out a weary breath. “You’d think so, but there’s always more to be had.”
“You’re not worried about Cedric, are you? I think the worst he would do would be to hit someone with a hairbrush.”
Fielding laughed. “That might be. But never rule him out. I wasn’t thinking of him, though. Cronin got Adler from somewhere, and there’s more like him. That’s Cronin’s style, keep himself in the clear.”
Isabel put her hand around Fielding’s neck and kissed him. “I think he’s got to be running out of steam.”
“We’ll just have to see.”
As they crested the last hill northwest of the Roe place, a hawk rose from the grass with a snake in its talons. The bird flapped away with the pale underside of the reptile trailing in the air. Isabel and Fielding looked at each other and smiled.
Down the hill and into the yard they rode. Isabel went into the house by herself as she had said she would. A few minutes later, she came out.
“I think you can come back either later today or tomorrow,” she said. “He’s not in a good mood, but I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.” She smiled at Fielding but did not come close as she took the reins of her horse from him.
“That’s all right,” he said. “I’ll take these horses back to the place where I stay, and then I’ve got a couple of other things to do.”
Fielding set up his camp and put out his horses for a while as he got cleaned up. The afternoon shadows were beginning to stretch out when he gathered the horses. He saddled the bay for himself and led the white horse bareback.
He rode into Selby’s place in less than half an hour. A breeze riffled in the young cottonwoods as Selby came out and met him in the yard. After the preliminary greetings, Selby asked how Fielding’s trip had gone.
“I had some trouble,” Fielding answered.
“With your horses? With the weather?”
“With some of the Argyle men. First it was Foote, and he left. Then it was Pence, and Adler after that. I had it out with both of them.”
Selby stared and did not speak. His ruddy face looked as if he had things to say and was holding them in.
Fielding went on. “I’ve had time to think about it, and I’ve decided I’ve had enough of these kinds of problems.”
Selby nodded, and his light blue eyes held on Fielding. “I don’t blame you. It hasn’t been easy on anyone.”
A wave of resentment came up, and Fielding stifled it. The less said, the better.
Selby spoke again. “I think everything’s going to blow over, though.”
“I wouldn’t know. If they wanted to get even for Mahoney, they might for these other two as well.”
“Oh, I don’t think anyone’s interested in gettin’ even at this point.”
“How’s that?”
Selby’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, I guess you haven’t heard yet.”
“No, I haven’t. I just got back, and you’re the first person I’ve talked to.”
“Well, big doin’s,” Selby began. “This comes by way of Ray Foote.”
“I would have thought he went home.”
“Well, he was goin’ to, but Cronin asked him to go out on one little job before he drew his pay.” Selby moistened his lips and continued. “Seems that Cronin had heard about the wild man livin’ out on Richard’s place, and Cronin didn’t like it. He wanted the Magpie for a line camp. So he went out there with Ray and Cedric alongside.”
“That must have been a good show of force.”
“Not so much. According to Ray, the crazy man came out of the stable, and as soon as he found out who Cronin was, he went into a rant about how Cronin had had a man killed and was trying to steal his place. Cronin said somethin’ high-handed, and the crazy man reached inside the door of the stable and came out with a shotgun. He blew Cronin right out of the saddle, and those other two lit out at a dead run.”
“Whew!” said Fielding. “Just like that.”
“How I heard it. They got up a party to go out there later, and the crazy man was long gone. They brought back the body, of course.”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.”
“Huh.” That would have been about the time Adler made his way into the mountains.
Selby’s face brightened. “So like I said, I think things are going to blow over.”
Fielding tensed again. “Well, that’s fine. But I’ve still had enough. I’m going to get my things together, and I might not be long for this place.”
Selby glanced at the white horse, and with a dubious tone he asked, “Did you come for your tent?”
“Not right now. I’ve got to pick up a saddle in the livery stable in town, and I can tie the tent onto it when I come back through.”
“Oh.”
“But I did come for something.”
“What’s that?”
“Richard’s two horses. I think I should leave them where he would want them to go.”
Selby’s eyes widened. “Where would that be?”
“With Leonora.”
On the ride into town, Fielding mulled over the news about Dunvil and Cronin. He found it amusing to imagine Cedric jolting away on a fast horse, but a lesser part of the story was interesting to consider as well. Cedric must feel as if he had been left high and dry. His sponsor was gone, the object of his attentions had been taken away, and the Argyle had taken a big drop in status.
Thinking of Susan Buchanan led Fielding to another speculation. Her father must have known trouble was coming. He must have wanted to keep from being drawn in as well as to remove his daughter from the company of someone in Cronin’s camp. The big augers were supposed to stick together, but Joseph Buchanan had looked out for himself. In that respect he was not much different from Henry Steelyard or even Selby and Roe.
When Fielding took the matched sorrels to the house where Leonora stayed, she came outside. Her face was lined and weary, and her brown hair was combed and pinned back. The glow of the setting sun colored her cheeks as she looked at the horses with an uncertain expression.
“I don’t know what I could do with them,” she said.
“You don’t have to decide right away. I can leave them at the livery stable for you. The saddles go with them.”
She gave a faint shrug, and her eyes tightened.
Fielding said, “I think Richard would want you to have them.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Richard was a good man. Everyone else in this valley was so stuck on his own self-interest that I thought Richard was the last good man on earth.” She blinked, and her eyes stayed moist. “Now I can see he wasn’t. Thank you, Tom.”
He had to clear his throat to speak. “You’re welcome, Leonora. I wish you all the best.”
Her lips moved, and then she spoke. “The same to you, Tom.”
Fielding turned into the lane at Roe’s place at mid-morning. He was riding the buckskin and leading the other five. The dun was saddled for riding, and the remaining four carried all his belongings and gear.
Andrew Roe came out from the house and stood in the front yard, rubbing his face and waiting for Fielding to come to a stop. When Fielding swung down from his horse, Roe said, “Looks like you’re packed up again. Off on another job?”
“Not today.” Fielding looked at the stubbled face, but the pale brown eyes did not hold steady. When they came back, Fielding spoke again. “I think I’m done here. Had enough of all this, and gonna move on.”
Roe’s eyebrows lifted as he said, “Oh.” He glanced down the line. “Bel said you lost a couple of horses.”
“I did. Three altogether.”
Roe pushed out his lower lip and put his hands in his pockets.
When it seemed as if the man was not going to speak, Fielding asked, “Is she around? I
wouldn’t mind talkin’ to her.”
“Oh, sure.” Roe turned and went on his slow way to the house.
Isabel came out a minute later, dressed in a clean white blouse and a pair of dark blue corduroy trousers. She tossed her wavy dark hair, and with a much lighter tone than her father’s she said, “Good morning, Tom. I’m glad you came by.”
“It’s good to see you.”
She glanced at the string of horses. “Are you on your way somewhere?”
He had thought through his words several times, but nervousness still got in the way. “I guess so. Well—yes, I am. Like I said to your father and Bill Selby before that, I’ve had enough. There’s only one thing keepin’ me here, and that’s you. I’m not walkin’ away from you. If I need to, I can come back.”
Her eyes showed concern, but she did not seem flustered. “Where do you have in mind to go?”
“I’m not sure. Generally, north and west. I know I can find work anywhere I go.” As his eyes met hers, he could tell she was not troubled at all. His words came easier. “It seems like I’ve been on the move so much, and after a while a person thinks he’d like to try stayin’ in one place. That’s it. I’d like to have a place of my own. It doesn’t have to be much.”
She had come a step closer. He could tell she had had a bath, as she smelled like dark cedar. Her eyes were shining as she said, “It’s what you make of it, what it means to you.”
This was his moment. He took a deep breath and went on. “I might never have much to show for myself, but whatever I make, I’ll do it without running over the top of someone else, or beating another man out of what he’s got. It’s one way of being free—that, and not having to make up to the bigwigs. If you think you can live with that, we can try boiling our coffee in the same pot.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Did you think I would say no?”
He tipped his head. “Not really. I just didn’t know if you wanted me to come back later, after I had a place, or a definite situation, or whatever.”
She stepped back and looked over his string of horses again. “This looks good enough to go on,” she said.
He couldn’t be sure he had heard what he did. It seemed as if all the tension he had ever felt had broken away. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“I was waiting for you to come back.”
“Do you mean that—?”
“If you can wait a few minutes, you’ll see for yourself.” She gave him a light kiss, then turned and walked to the house.
As he waited for what seemed like more than a few minutes, all of the clutter of Roe’s seemed cheery. The falling-in shed, the heaps of barbed wire and posts, the hulks of wagons—all of these things that used to weigh on him now seemed like old friends. If the gray geese had come out, he would have expected them to waddle up to him and wait to be petted.
The scuff of the door sounded, and Isabel came out into the sunlight with a satchel in each hand. Fielding could tell she had been crying, but she had her chin up and was smiling.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. We talked about it last night and again this morning. But still, it took a few minutes.”
She handed Fielding her bags, and he put them in the panniers of the bay horse. As he snugged the lash rope, he asked, “Is he going to come out and see you off?”
She shook her head. “He’s a little moody right now. Everything will be all right when we come back.”
Fielding handed her the reins to the dun and gave her a boost to help her into the saddle. When she nodded ready, he swung onto the buckskin.
They rode straight north out of the yard, across the trail, and onto the grassland. As they climbed a hill, the hoot of a train rose from the valley. They paused and turned the horses to take a last look at the town of Umber, and then they went on their way through the great rangeland, side by side, with the string of four horses behind them.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Gather My Horses Page 20