Scarlet Sunset, Silver Nights

by Leigh Greenwood

  I should have left last night Slade thought to himself. All I wanted was a horse. I should have paid her and gotten out of here. Instead I had to hang around and get involved with a shooting and a fight. Well, Slade old man, you can put paid to this account. If Dave tells her half of what you’ve done, she won’t be able to sit still until the trail dust has settled behind you.

  “He’s a famous sharp-shooter,” Dave said. “I saw him in a carnival once He obviously doesn’t remember me I was only twenty at the time, but we worked a drive together about a year before I came here.”

  The tension didn’t evaporate entirely, but Slade relaxed considerably.

  “What do I want with a sharp-shooter?” Pamela demanded. “I need someone who can handle a crew.”

  “You ought to see him, Pamela,” Gaddy said excitedly. “He can draw faster than you can see.”

  All three adults ignored the boy.

  “From what Gaddy tells me, he tackled Mongo with that busted arm. Any man who will do that can handle our boys. They’re nothing but a bunch of cowhands. As for the rest, his reputation with a gun should scare off trouble.”

  “Or cause it.”

  “No, it won’t,” Gaddy contradicted. “You let him show what he can do, and there won’t be a man within a hundred miles that would draw a gun on him.”

  “I wish Daddy would get back,” Pamela said half to herself. “How can I trust my crew to a man I hardly know?”

  Don’t you know enough about him already, a voice inside her asked. Aren’t you about ready to trust your heart to him? The shock of that realization nearly caused Pamela to stop breathing. She had told herself that her interest was primarily curiosity, that their kisses were nothing more than innocent stolen fruit, that his nearness comforted her rather than filled a need. Now, in one brief flash of understanding, she knew she had been more than curious about Slade before he reached the water trough. By the time he reached the porch, he had become essential.

  “All you have to know is he’s the best man in Arizona with a gun.”

  And that’s about the last thing she wants to know, Slade thought.

  “You know the way I feel about guns, Dave. I can’t hire a guns linger. I’d look like a hypocrite.”

  “I’m not a gunslinger” Slade corrected. “I’m a trick shot. I shoot just about anything except people.”

  “I don’t see how that makes any difference. I’d be hiring you to at least threaten to shoot people. We’ll just have to find some other way.”

  “There is no other way.” Dave said, “at least not one you can find by tomorrow morning.”

  “Do you know anything about working a roundup?” she demanded turning abruptly on Slade.

  “Yes. I’ve been on several.”

  “I’m sure you would do your best,” Pamela said, clearly undecided, “but I still don’t know enough about you to feel comfortable handing over my crew.”

  “Your father hired me knowing a hell of a lot less,” Dave said.

  “But you didn’t walk in off the desert. For all we know, he’s a wanted man.”

  “Really?” Gaddy asked, his wide-eyed eagerness more than enough indication he hoped Slade would turn out to be a notorious gunman wanted in at least five states and three territories.

  “You apparently believe you know him well enough to let him settle in here,” Dave remarked.

  Pamela hadn’t sorted out her feelings for Slade, but she wasn’t about to explain that to Dave. From the very first something felt wrong about Slade. No sooner had he set foot on the ranch than trouble started. No sooner had she set eyes on him than the foundations of everything she had believed her whole life began to crumble. And no matter how much she wanted to see him in a different light, Pamela knew he could be hard and ruthless. She knew he would use his guns. He’d already done so.

  “Well, what do you think of him?” Dave asked.

  “I think he would kill any man who gets in his way,” Pamela said harshly, the truth pulled out of her. “I think he would use that gun on a man just as readily as he would use it relax just a little, like someone who had gotten past the difficult part of an assignment. “I also think he would go to any length to do what he thinks is right, to keep his word.”

  “Good. Then he’s your man,” Dave said.

  “You want me to hire the kind of man I just described?”

  “If Slade is the man you described, he’s perfect for the job. I can go along and see that the boys know they’re supposed to take orders from him,” he explained when Pamela started to protest.

  “What about your leg?” Pamela asked, clutching at straws. “You won’t be fit to ride for days.”

  “I’ll go in a wagon.”

  Pamela could put forth no further objections. It would be churlish as well as silly to argue any longer. “Will you take the job?” she asked.

  Slade hesitated.

  “If you don’t, she’ll try to do it herself,” Dave added.

  Slade knew Dave was trying to goad him into accepting, but he continued to stare at Pamela. He almost refused, but then he gave in with a fatalistic shrug. He could think of a hundred good reasons why he should leave, but he wanted to be near Pamela as long as possible.

  “I’ll do it on conditions.”

  Pamela stiffened. “Conditions?” She tried to see Slade’s face, but it was shadowed in the dim light.

  “You don’t want to give me the job, and I don’t particularly want to take it, so we’d better understand each other from the start. When I take on this kind of responsibility, I have to know where I stand.”

  “That seems fair. What are your conditions?”

  “I’m the boss. Period. You’ll back me in everything I say.”

  “I’m used to giving orders to people I pay,” Pamela told him as calmly as she could, but every fiber of her body screamed in revolt.

  “That’s my second condition. I won’t take any pay.” dollars a month.”

  “Also, I can’t be fired until the roundup is over.”

  “No,” Pamela said. It was almost a shout. “Why should you insist on such a condition? Are you afraid well find out you can’t do this job and get rid of you the second day?”

  “No. Your temper is up one minute and down the next. You’re just as likely to fire me today as beg me to come back tomorrow.”

  “I don’t beg! If I had cause to fire you, I’d never rehire you.”

  “It’s still a condition.”

  Pamela chewed her lip in frustration, but she couldn’t see a way out. She looked hopefully at Dave, but he shook his head.

  “You really can’t lead them yourself, Pamela. It’s a matter of pride with the men. Believe me, being led by a woman would cause more trouble than Slade ever could.”

  “Okay,” Pamela said. She had to choke the word out.

  Slade didn’t misunderstand. Her words might say she had capitulated, but her eyes signalled open rebellion. He didn’t know what she might do, but he knew she hadn’t resigned herself to his control.

  “If I agree to your conditions, you have to agree to mine,” Pamela announced. “I’ll go on the drive.”

  “No.” Dave voiced the protest. “A woman has no business on a roundup. It’s too dangerous, and it’s bound to cause trouble. Besides, where would you sleep or change clothes?”

  “I think her presence will be a real morale booster for the men,” Slade said. “We can take a wagon for her, too. I’ll personally guarantee her safety.” Slade’s ready acceptance of her presence at the roundup startled Pamela, but Dave didn’t give up so easily.

  “I don’t like it,” he protested. “You aren’t the one who promised her father you’d take care of her.”

  “Nevertheless, I’ll do it.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Pamela stated, furiously. “I don’t need to depend on a cowboy.”

  “My first order to the crew, Pamela, will be that your safety must be our first responsibility. If you wish to come along, you
will have to do exactly as I say.”

  Pamela would have given anything to be able to say she wouldn’t go, but she couldn’t, not after she had made it a condition of giving Slade the job. To stay home would be admitting defeat, and she refused to be defeated by anyone, especially Slade Morgan. He was going to have to prove he could do the job better than she could before she would be willing to take orders from him. She shrugged and turned on her heel.

  “You and Dave settle between you when we leave.”

  Pamela left the men to make their arrangements. She had to get away before she threw something. She had been brought up to behave decorously at all times, but nobody had prepared her for Slade. No matter what happened, he always seemed to be able to maneuver her to exactly where he wanted her. She knew he had laid down his filthy conditions merely to make her so mad she would insist upon going with them. Now, in a silly spurt of temper, she had committed herself to a roundup. She hated roundups. Even more, she loathed cows. Actually they frightened her, but she’d die before she let Slade Morgan guess.

  She had to admit that most of the time Slade was easy to be around. She could anticipate his good moods because his eyes softened and turned a blue-grey. When that happened, she could imagine he might be falling in love with her. Those were the moments which confused her, the moments when she felt helpless to resist the powerful attraction which existed between them. Most of all she felt powerless to resist the pull of his long, lean body. The way he walked, the way his bulging muscles rippled under his shirt, the tight fit of his jeans that seemed to showcase his manhood.

  Those moments shook her.

  Other times she felt utterly helpless to have any affect on him. He seemed like another person, distant, unfeeling, almost cruel in the harshness with which he made decisions. His eyes turned the color of old snow, and his whole face seemed like it had been fashioned from dry leather. He treated them like so many chess pieces to move about. And she had the feeling he would be a ruthless player, one who would do almost anything necessary to win.

  No, at least not with her. She didn’t know what kind of limits he imposed on himself, but she knew he lived by a set of standards he believed to be as honorable as her own.

  But why was she agonizing over this? Because you want to go on that roundup her inside voice whispered.

  The thought startled her, but no sooner did it come than she admitted it to be true. She wanted to be with Slade so much she didn’t care about the discomfort of the roundup or her dislike of cows. Good God! Had she already fallen that much in love with him?

  No, surely not. But the thought of not seeing him for two weeks or more terrified her. He had only been here a short while, but already she couldn’t imagine his not being there forever.

  Good Lord, what would Amanda say? What would your mother say? What about her father? He wouldn’t be thrilled with the idea of some saddle bum waltzing in and taking over the ranch it had taken him twenty years to build. It’s going to hurt, but it’s time to get this man out of your mind, and probably the best way is to go on the roundup. If you’re around him all the time, you’ll soon get tired of him. Then you’ll know it’s over.

  But deep within her something hoped it wouldn’t be over, that being around him all the time would merely cause the feeling between them to grow stronger.

  Slade picked up a shirt and slammed it down on the pile of things he meant to take with him. He wasn’t happy about the way things had turned out. He felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into this morass. In fact, he had probably already lost his last chance to escape. So why hang around here inviting that scalp-hunting sheriff from Maravillas to find him? His leading a roundup, especially if it turned into a fight, would attract attention from as far away as the California border.

  Nothing would start people talking faster than a drifter starting a range war. What better invitation for some young fool to want to measure his skill against a man of his reputation?

  And just what else did Bagshot know about him? He couldn’t believe Dave would remember him after all this time without also remembering some of the gossip floating about these last five years. People in the West loved to gossip.

  “What’re you going to do?” Gaddy asked. He had been following Slade about like a puppy ever since he had agreed to take the job.

  “About what?”

  “Mongo Shepherd. Dave says he’s got to be the one behind this.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You mean to let him get away with shooting Dave and Jody?” Gaddy looked so disappointed Slade had to work hard to suppress a smile.

  “No, but we don’t have any proof he did it, at least not yet.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Gaddy, his enthusiasm immediately revived. “You plan to catch him in the act and then blast him.”

  He still thinks it’s all a game, Slade thought. He doesn’t realize bullets play for keeps. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m going to do my best not to blast anybody, especially Mongo Shepherd.”

  “Why not? He’s got to be guilty.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, your cousin is mighty soft on Mr. Shepherd. Maybe she wouldn’t like it if I blasted him.”

  “Pam don’t like Mongo worth a damn, not since you got here.”

  Slade felt his heart swell with hope, but he forced himself to be realistic. Love might have blossomed if there hadn’t been any gun trouble, but there seemed little chance for them now. Now he had a job to do, and the sooner he did it, the sooner he could get started down the trail to California.

  “What about this Frederick fella who’s coming.” Hell, what did he mean asking a gawky teenager for advice? His wits were addled.

  “Pamela can’t seem to stop talking about him even though he’s married to someone else. It makes you wonder about her, don’t it? Hey,” he said brightening, “you could show that fella up. I bet he couldn’t shoot the head off a quail.”

  “Nor ride the hammerhead dun, put out a fire, or ramrod a roundup crew. But I got the feeling your cousin doesn’t admire that sort of thing in a man.”

  “I told you that fancy school ruined her, that and her ma always telling her Arizona wasn’t worth a hill of beans. She could have been a right good girl given half a chance.”

  “She can ride and shoot,” Slade reminded him.

  “Yeah, but she don’t like it much.”

  And that seemed to just about sum up Slade’s position as well. She didn’t like him much either, so why put his neck on the line again? Because he’d suffer blisters, bullet wounds, and another fight with Mongo if he could just kiss her again, hold her in his arms, close, until he knew she would never leave. He could feel his body start to grow stiff just thinking about a deep, wet kiss. God, that woman had the sexiest, sweetest lips! A man could die happy with her in his arms. He had never experienced anything like the fire Pamela kindled in his veins. He’d never endured the ache which kept him awake at night or the constant, nagging sense of longing which kept at him until he couldn’t think of anything else.

  He felt like one of those rockets they shoot off on opening night at the carnival, one of the real big ones which soar high into the air before they explode into a shower of sparks. He had been primed when he walked into that valley. Pamela had lighted the fuse. The only question remaining was how high he would skyrocket before the explosion.

  Slade refused to look over his shoulder. He knew Pamela rode behind him and the temptation for just one glance was almost too much, but he steeled himself to look ahead. She had kept her distance since he laid down his conditions. That she didn’t like them was obvious; his determination to hold her to them had to be just as obvious.

  “I’ll do all the talking,” he had informed her when they gathered that morning. “I’ll consult both of you when I think it’s necessary, but I want every rancher there to know from the start that no one except me speaks for the Bar Double-B.”

  Pamela had had to bite her tongue to keep from virtually shouting her objecti
on. Only Dave’s sympathetic glances enabled her to remain silent. She couldn’t understand why Dave had so much faith in Slade. But she had faith in Dave, and if he thought she should give Slade complete control, then she would do it. After all, she kept reminding herself, Slade hadn’t threatened to take over the ranch, just boss her around for a couple of weeks. If he tried to throw his weight around after that, she would settle his hash pronto.

  “We’ll be arriving at the roundup site before the other outfits,” Slade called back over his shoulder. “I want to talk to the whole crew.”

  “I want to hold a short service, too,” Pamela told Dave. “We haven’t had one in weeks.”

  “What kind of service?” Slade asked. That word gave him an uneasy feeling.

  “It’s a lot like a church service,” Gaddy answered.

  “My mother used to hold them several times during the year,” Pamela explained. “My father always led them, but since you’re foreman, it’s your job.”

  “I won’t have anything to do with it,” Slade stated. His voice trembled so with rage they stared at him in surprise. “If I’d known anything about it, I wouldn’t have taken this job.”

  “Does that mean you’re quitting?” Pamela asked. Her eyes issued a direct challenge.

  “I never quit what I begin, but you’ll have your service without me.”

  “The foreman should be part in everything the crew does.”

  “I’ll bring them through without your prayer meeting.”

  “It’s not a prayer meeting, “Pamela said. “It’s just to help the men be clear about their values, to help them make their choices carefully.”

  “I find men always know what’s right.”

  “But they don’t always have the resolution to stick to it,” Pamela replied, not backing down an inch. “This just gives them a little moral support.”

  “Just as long as they don’t start praying when they’re supposed to be working,” Slade threw at her over his shoulder and galloped off.

  “What set him off?” Gaddy asked.