Pete (The Cowboys)

by Leigh Greenwood

  He hit the ground with a thud. He didn’t get up so quickly this time.

  “It would be a lot easier to wash up,” Pete said. “You’re going to have to do it anyway.”

  Belser came at him again, but he was more careful this time. He managed to connect on one blow, but he swung his arms around in a giant circle, which took away a lot of the force of the blow. Pete easily recovered and moved straight in, pounding Belser with a rapid series of sharp blows straight to the stomach, ribs, and jaw. Belser wasn’t fat or out of shape, but he didn’t have any real fighting skill or stamina. He sank to his knees in a matter of minutes.

  “Wash up and change your shirt, or eat at the chuck wagon,” Pete said, breathing hard from his exertions. “That’s the way it’s going to be tonight and every night from now on.”

  He started toward the house.

  “I wish you hadn’t done that,” Eddie said.

  “I could see it coming from the moment I got here. Now maybe he’ll think a little before he goes off half-cocked.”

  Pete wasn’t surprised when Belser came down in time for dinner, and wearing a clean shirt. He had figured Belser would rather not eat at all than have to join the chuck wagon crew and explain his humiliating loss.

  “I’ve decided to round up all the beef that’s in reasonable shape and sell it,” Pete announced. “The range is in poor shape, and the predictions are for a hard winter. We don’t have enough hay to carry over the full herd. If we sell off what we can, we might make it through in decent shape.”

  “I don’t think you ought to sell,” Belser said.

  “You’re welcome to your opinion, but it’s my ranch.”

  “It’s not your ranch because you’re not Peter.”

  “You said that before.” Pete didn’t look up from the steak he was cutting. He figured it would look better if he appeared totally unfazed by Belser’s accusations.

  “But now I have proof,” Belser said.

  Chapter Five

  Pete felt a chill of apprehension. What kind of proof could Belser have? Where had he been all day? It wasn’t possible for him to have traveled back to the spot where Peter had been killed. Even if he had, Pete had been very careful to camouflage Peter’s grave and burn the wagon. Trying to appear totally unconcerned, Pete surveyed the faces at the table. Dolores appeared curious more than anything else. He couldn’t quite decipher Eddie’s expression, but he doubted the foreman would look forward to working under Belser.

  Anne looked as white as a sheet. He could only guess at the reason, but he was certain she dreaded the prospect of Belser’s inheriting the ranch.

  “Everybody’s anxious to hear your proof,” Pete said. “Don’t keep us waiting.” He directed his gaze back to his food. If this was his moment of exposure, there was little he could do to stop it. He would just explain what he was doing there and bow out as gracefully as possible.

  “Carl said Peter couldn’t fight. Peter could never have beaten me, so you can’t be Peter.”

  Pete breathed an inward sigh of relief. If this was Belser’s idea of proof, it was safe to let him keep making accusations. After a while, no one would believe anything he said.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Anne said. She had turned toward Belser, her cheeks now spotted with color. “Anybody can see Pete has changed since he left here. It’s only natural that he learned to fight. All men do.”

  Pete hadn’t expected Anne to support him with such vehemence. From her pallor, he figured she was more afraid of losing her security than her husband. After all, she’d been willing to marry a man she had last seen as a child.

  “He wouldn’t have decided to sell the herd,” Belser said, ignoring Anne. “Uncle Carl said he didn’t know anything about cows. That he didn’t like them.”

  “You don’t have to like cows to know you have to sell them to make money,” Pete said. “I was thinking about selling everything on the place, going back to Illinois, and opening up a really big hardware store this time.”

  “That sounds exactly like something Peter would do,” Belser said.

  “Which disproves your own argument,” Anne said. “If that’s exactly what Peter would do, then this must be Peter.”

  “He’s not, you little fool,” Belser exploded.

  “I don’t really care who you think I am,” Pete said, “but you call my wife a fool again—even a little one—and I’m going to knock you through that window. Then you can take up permanent residence in the bunkhouse.”

  “That’s something else Peter wouldn’t do,” Belser said. “He didn’t have the courage of a coyote.”

  “I always thought coyotes were right brave,” Pete said. “They’re little, but they’ll attack an animal twice their size. Smart too. I don’t mind you comparing me to a coyote. Just watch what you say about Anne. You got to treat ladies differently.”

  “She ain’t no lady,” Belser exploded.

  A silence fell.

  “You can explain that statement, or you can apologize for it,” Pete said. “But only one choice is going to allow you to keep all your teeth.”

  Anne turned her unbelieving gaze on Pete. He got the feeling she wasn’t used to anybody taking her part. If that was true, it was too bad. She was a nice young woman. Any fool could see she tried hard to be liked. Probably nobody had thought to do anything but make her feel like a burden. He’d have to see what he could do about that before he left.

  “I mean she’s a girl,” Belser said. “She’s not old enough to be a lady.”

  “But you’re sure she will become a lady the minute she’s old enough, whenever that is.” Every eye in the room was on Belser. The silence seemed to stretch a little too long. “I don’t think Anne heard your answer,” Pete said.

  “Probably. You never can tell about women,” Belser said.

  “That’s a cheap apology,” Pete said. “It wouldn’t have cost you a penny to say something nice. Everybody would have thought well of you. Now all we see is a mean-spirited, poor loser who’ll say anything he can to get a ranch he never had any right to in the first place.”

  “I had more right to it than you do!” Belser exploded. “I don’t know who you are or how you got here—”

  “I’m Pete Warren. I got here on horseback. I intended to arrive by wagon, but somebody burned that after they tried to kill me.”

  “You’re not Peter!” Belser shouted. “You probably killed him and showed up in his place.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Belser.” Dolores spoke for the first time. “He couldn’t possibly know as much as he does and be anyone but Peter.”

  “Pete,” Anne said. “He wants us to call him Pete now.”

  “How do you explain his wound?” Dolores asked Belser.

  “How do I know? Maybe Peter shot him before he got killed.”

  “And he somehow knew enough to find his way here on the last day before he would lose the ranch,” Dolores said.

  “He—”

  “And he knew who I was,” Anne pointed out. “He rescued me from Uncle Frank before anybody had a chance to say a word to him.’’

  That wasn’t true. Pete had talked to one of Bill Mason’s cowhands, but Pete didn’t figure it would help his case to say that.

  “Anybody could have told him who you were,” Belser said. “But we don’t know anything about him. Nobody’s asked him any questions. Peter would be fool enough to let anybody walk into his camp, tell them just about anything they wanted to know. He’d be easy to kill. I say we see just how much this one knows.”

  “I don’t see why you can’t wait for his papers,” Dolores said.

  “That’ll take weeks, maybe months,” Belser said. “He could have the herd sold and be gone with the money before we find out who he is.”

  “I’m not going to sit here answering a bunch of questions,” Pete said. “However, I will promise not to spend any money on myself until I can prove who I am.” That wasn’t a problem. He didn’t plan to use the money anyway.
<
br />   “I don’t see why you should have to wait,” Anne said.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Pete said. “I don’t mind.”

  “You’re tricking us,” Belser said.

  “How could I be doing that?” Pete asked, beginning to get irritated.

  “I don’t know, but you’re not Peter. You know you can’t prove you are. So if you’re willing to wait, there must be a trick somewhere.”

  Pete lost patience. “The only trick is pretending I don’t mind putting up with you. I do mind, and I’m not going to continue doing it. If you can’t stop throwing up your crazy theories every time you see me, you can move into the bunkhouse and eat with the crew. If you still insist on running your mouth, you can clear off the place.”

  “You saying you’ll fire me?”

  “I don’t know why the old man put up with you, but you’re not related to me. I don’t owe you anything.”

  “Peter would never call Uncle Carl the old man.”

  “I’ve done a lot of things different since I left here.”

  “Like going broke,” Belser added, sneering.

  “Not quite, but that needn’t concern you. Just remember what I said. Now, if you’ll excuse us, ladies, Eddie and I have plans to make.”

  “When are you planning to send for those papers?” Belser asked.

  “Anne and I are going into Big Bend tomorrow. I’ll send off a telegram then.”

  “You didn’t say anything about going into town,” Anne said. She looked surprised but pleased.

  “What with having to close down that windbag,” Pete said, scowling at Belser, “I haven’t had a chance. You don’t mind, do you? I’m depending on you to show me around, introduce me to people, warn me who to watch out for.”

  “How would she know that?” Belser asked. “She doesn’t have any more sense than a goose.”

  “You have a very short memory. I guess I’m going to have to help you lengthen it a bit.”

  “What are you talking about?” Belser asked, looking uneasy.

  “I told you to be careful what you said about my wife. Comparing her to a goose is not my idea of being careful.”

  “Everybody’s always saying something like that.”

  “I don’t like it. Neither does Anne. Don’t do it again.”

  Pete pushed back his chair. He wanted to get out of the room before he had another conflict with Belser. “You ready?” he said to Eddie.

  “Sure.”

  “How about dessert?” Dolores asked.

  “Sounds good,” Pete said. “How about bringing some with coffee in about an hour?”

  “You really going to throw Belser off the place?” Eddie asked as they left the dining room.

  “If he keeps up this nonsense about me being an imposter.”

  “He’s angry he didn’t get the place. He’s just trying to make trouble.”

  “He’s trying to do more than that. After being nearly killed once, I don’t mean to set myself up for a second try. If he doesn’t stop, he leaves.”

  “You can’t think Belser shot you.”

  “Somebody did. Who had more reason to want me dead?”

  “He never left the ranch.”

  “It was a hired thing. Two men came after me.”

  “You never said that.”

  “Nobody asked.”

  “Did you see them?”

  “They shot me from the dark. I didn’t regain consciousness until the next day.”

  “Then how do you know—”

  “I followed their trail.”

  “Do you know where they went?”

  “I know they came this way. Their trail disappeared after that.”

  Eddie looked stunned. “Nobody here would do a thing like that.”

  “Not even for money?”

  “No. That’d be cold-blooded murder.”

  “It almost was. Or do you doubt I was shot?”

  “No. You didn’t get the scar on your forehead falling off a horse.”

  “Keep that in mind when you defend Belser. Now, let’s see about organizing this roundup.”

  Anne was sitting up in bed when Pete entered the bedroom. Almost immediately she put her arms under the covers, pulled the covers up to her shoulders, and slid down in the bed until she was barely visible. Obviously she wanted to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

  Pete had no intention of mistreating a woman who not only wasn’t his wife but whom he would leave before long. However, her acting like he was the closest thing to a marauding savage left a sour taste in his mouth. Why was she so reluctant even to come close to her husband in the bedroom? She hadn’t seemed frightened of him downstairs. He wished she’d stop looking at him as if she expected him to ravish her on the spot. He didn’t know what she knew of men, but if Belser and old Clyde were examples of the available men, she probably had good reason to expect just that.

  “You sure you don’t mind going into town with me tomorrow?” he asked as he started to undress. He might not take advantage of her, but he refused to hide in the bathroom. She might as well get used to what a man looked like, at least in his underwear. Then when she finally did get married, maybe she wouldn’t act like a scared rabbit.

  But there was no denying she was a pretty woman. He’d always had a weakness for women with dark hair and black eyes. It made them seem mysterious, dangerous. Not that Anne was either mysterious or dangerous. But you never knew what was going on in a woman’s mind.

  “No. I’d like to go to town,” she said.

  “We’ll have to get up early.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Before dawn.”

  “I know.”

  “I forgot to ask if you can ride.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Uncle Carl said ladies don’t ride horses.”

  Hell, they’d have to use the buckboard. That would take all day. “Do people know I was coming, that we were married by proxy? Belser’s bound to have told somebody I’m an imposter. It won’t be nice for you if people believe him.”

  “I told everybody we were married. It was the only way to keep Uncle Frank from forcing me to go with Cyrus.”

  “We’re not going to be expected to go to parties or anything like that, are we?” He’d just thought of that. The prospect was unnerving.

  “No.”

  He was relieved, but she might as well have been talking about buying a horse or a new blanket for all the emotion she showed. Being shy and nervous and unsure about what to do with a new husband was one thing. Appearing to have no emotional involvement with him was quite another. Why should she defend him so fiercely against Belser’s accusations unless she was more worried about her position on the ranch than she was about whether he was Peter or an imposter? Could she have married Peter for his money and position without loving him at all?

  He didn’t want to believe that. He liked Anne even though she wasn’t his type. She was too young, too innocent, too shy. He liked a more mature type, a bold, assertive woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. He didn’t really know what to do with a timid girl.

  He didn’t want to believe she was so mercenary.

  “Do you know a lot of people in this town?”

  The question seemed to make her nervous. “No. I never went to town very much. Uncle Carl said a woman’s place was on the ranch.”

  That didn’t make a lot of sense to Pete. Why had Carl kept her out of sight? Maybe that was why she was so shy.

  “I like to see women in town,” Pete said. “I like to see them all dressed up, sashaying up and down the boardwalk, looking smart, knowing all the men are staring at them with their tongues hanging out.”

  “Nobody would stare at me.”

  He could tell she was hoping he’d contradict her.

  “Everybody would stare at you, especially if I bought you a fancy dress.”

  “Would you do that?”

  Her excitem
ent was palpable. Pete hadn’t thought a thing about dresses or parading up and down the boardwalk. He was just talking to fill up the silence, but it was clear he’d hit upon something important to Anne.

  “I’ll buy you two or three dresses,” he said. Hell, he didn’t mind spending old Carl’s money, as long as he wasn’t spending it on himself.

  “One would be enough,” Anne said, but the excitement in her eyes was contagious.

  “We won’t stop at dresses,” Pete said. “There’s all kinds of things a female needs. I’ll ask one of the women in the store to take you under her wing. She’ll know what to do.”

  “No, you’ve got to come.”

  He didn’t know what he’d said that was wrong. All the brightness, the anticipation, had disappeared to be replaced by something awfully close to fear. “I’m no good with female things,” he protested.

  “You’ve got to come. I won’t know what to do.”

  He didn’t either, but for some reason, she was afraid to go by herself. Probably more of Uncle Carl’s belief that women weren’t worth very much. He’d have to see what he could do about that before he left. Anne was much too nice to spend the rest of her life being afraid of her shadow. She was liable to let some man walk all over her.

  “Okay, but I’ll stand in the corner.”

  “That’s okay. Just as long as you’re there.”

  He wondered what she thought he could accomplish by his presence. Or prevent. He’d have to find out. He didn’t like the idea that she would marry Peter without feeling anything for him, but he liked it even less that she was afraid to go anywhere alone.

  This might turn out to his advantage, though. He’d have even more time to talk to her, learn enough of his own history to keep from falling into trouble. Everybody knew women couldn’t think of what they were saying when they were looking at clothes. She’d be liable to say all kinds of things she’d never remember. Yes, a shopping trip with Anne just might be the thing to save his scalp.

  Pete had expected Anne’s spirits to rise as they got closer to town. Instead, she got quieter, hardly speaking unless he asked her a direct question. She no longer seemed excited about the prospect of buying new dresses. Pete had never known any woman not to be interested in clothes. Even Isabelle had a distinct weakness for shopping. Jake used to say she only wanted to know how much money he made each time he sold a herd so she would know how much money she could spend.