“But the ranchers were losing cowboys long before this,” Witherspoon said. “What’s happened?”
“Two things,” Big Ed said. “First, the ranchers formed up a cattlemen’s association under Zeb Hawkins, who has always been kind of a leader out here. When he got kilt, I figgered that the association would dry up and go away.”
“What happened?”
“Two tough hombres—or I should say, one tough hombre with a sidekick—has come onto the Diablos,” Big Ed said. “I found out they was lawmen down in Benton to the south. They’re damn good with their irons, and ever’body is willing put up a stiff fight as long as they’re around.”
“Who is this spectacular fellow?” Witherspoon asked.
“His name is Rawley Pierson,” Big Ed said.
“Then, my old friend, we should see that this Mr Rawley Pierson is done away with as quickly as possible,” Witherspoon said.
“He’s been shot at in raids, but we ain’t got him yet,” Big Ed said. He liked the idea of concentrating on getting rid of Rawley Pierson. Not only would it remove a big stumbling block in the scheme to grab control of the Diablos, but his rival for Nancy Hawkins’s affections would also be gone for good.
“Then send some of your boys out after him personally,” Witherspoon said. “Their only job will be to shoot this bothersome fellow.”
“You mean forget the plan and the ranches and the cattle till we get him?” Big Ed asked. He smiled. “By God, Cal! I think that’s a hell of a fine idea.”
“Of course it is,” Witherspoon said.
“Now let me pass on some more information to you, so you don’t think I been laying down on the job here,” Big Ed said.
“I’m anxious to hear something positive,” Witherspoon said with a tone of relief in his voice.
“We got the sheriff on our side,” Big Ed said. “Fact o’ the matter, he’s come in handy on a coupla occasions when the law was asked in on the raids.”
Witherspoon smiled. “Now that is good news.”
“There’s something better,” Big Ed said, leaning forward. “One o’ the ranchers’ son’s is in my hip pocket. Since his pa got killed he’s ramrodding his outfit.”
“How can you control him?” Witherspoon asked.
“A great big poker debt,” Big Ed replied. “And he thinks I’m one of his best pals.”
Witherspoon winked at his old partner. “Now that’s the Ed MacWilliams I know.”
“I thought that’d make you grin,” Big Ed said.
“Speaking of the ranches out on the range, just what is the situation out there right now?”
“The cattlemen are fattening up their herds for the drive up to Kansas in about a month,” Big Ed answered.
“Is there anyone left in that intrepid army of yours that can take this Rawley Pierson?” Witherspoon asked.
“Sure. Walt Deacon is the feller’s name,” Big Ed answered. “But he’ll have to be sneaky about it. Prob’ly have to backshoot him. That’s ’cause he ain’t as fast as Rawley. But he can shoot the eyebrows off a hummingbird at a hunnerd yards—and that’s with a pistol. He’s even better with a rifle.”
“Then, Ed,” Witherspoon said slowly and deliberately, “get the word out to Walt Deacon to take his best rifle and go shoot Pierson in the back when he’s not looking.”
“I’ll take care of that right away,” Big Ed said.
Twelve
Nancy Hawkins felt the twinge of a headache as she labored on the task of bringing the account books up to date. She had duly noted all salaries paid out, the purchase of leather harnesses, having a couple of horses from the remuda reshod, and other business expenses that had either been paid or put on account for the Circle H Bar ranch in its hectic activities to prepare for the cattle drive to Kansas.
She sighed as she closed the volume, knowing that the difference between prosperity and a terribly bad year that could easily include the loss of the ranch depended on that scheduled drive to the north. The' young woman got up from the desk in the little room just off the parlor that served as the ranch’s business office. She walked through the house, still feeling that pounding in her temples after going through all the adding and subtracting. The task of checking the figures had been both tiresome and worrisome. She’d begun the work early in the morning, and it was now noon. To add to her discomfiture, Nancy hadn’t been at all pleased with what she’d found where her brother Tim was concerned.
She paused at the mantel long enough to look at the photo of her father and his first wife. She regretted that a later one had never been taken. It would have been nice to be able to remember him as he was in the fullness of life, rather than as a corpse shot down by some coward wearing a mask. But there was no photographer in Duncan, and no itinerant cameraman had ever shown up to ply his trade on the Diablos. Neither she nor Tim had ever had the opportunity to get their own pictures taken.
The sound of a horse drawing up outside caught her attention. Nancy got the Colt .44 pistol off the side table and cautiously looked outside. She relaxed when she saw it was Tim returning from the herd at Rattlesnake Arroyo.
She put the pistol back and waited for him to come in. When he walked into the house, dusty and sweaty, she treated him to a faint smile. “It looks like you’ve had a busy time of it.”
“I sure have,” he answered. “Some o’ the Diamond T cattle found their way outta the arroyo just after dawn. We had a real job chasing ’em down.” He slapped at the dust on his trousers. “What makes it take so damn much time is having to keep one eye out for masked hombres and the other on the cattle.”
“Has that been the only trouble you had out there lately?” she asked.
“Yeah. It’s been so quiet that we’ve decided to send some fellers back to the ranches to tend to chores that’s been neglected,” Tim explained. “Rawley Pierson is gonna come in to mend that corral fence this afternoon.”
“Are you going to help him?”
Tim shook his head. “Nope. I’m taking advantage of the time off to go into town.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tim,” Nancy said. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” he said testily. “And I’m getting tired of it.”
“I’ve an especially good reason to say so now,” Nancy said.
“And what might that be?”
“Are you gambling?” she asked in a direct manner. “What’s the matter?”
“I’ve just finished balancing the books, and I see you’ve pulled some cash out of the operating funds,” Nancy said. “And no expenditures have been made with them. At least none are listed.”
“So what? I ain’t making a secret of it,” Tim said with a shrug.
“We need all our money to keep going until that cattle drive,” Nancy said.
“Yeah, I know,” Tim said. “But maybe I figgered out a way to make it grow some between now and when we move them cattle to Kansas.”
Nancy pursed her lips. “You are gambling!”
“The way I play poker, sister, it ain’t gambling,” Tim said. “I’ve been cleaning them boys out in the Deep River Saloon perty reg’lar.”
“Then where’re your winnings?” Nancy asked.
“I hit a bad streak o’ luck, but it’s due to fade away anytime,” Tim said confidently. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“And you’re drinking heavier than ever,” Nancy said. “During the last raid on the camp out at the arroyo, you were sleeping off a drunk right here in bed while our own hands and the men from the other ranches did the fighting.”
“I can’t be out there all the time!” Tim snapped. “And how’m I supposed to know when we’re gonna get hit out there? Anyhow, the boys handled it just fine.” He changed the subject. “Is there a fire in the stove? I want to heat some water for a bath.”
“Help yourself,” Nancy said coldly.
Tim immediately put her protests and arguments out of his mind as he went upstairs to fetch a change of clothing. When he returned to th
e kitchen, he fixed up a tubful of hot water and climbed into it. After cheerfully scrubbing the range sweat and dirt off, he got out and toweled himself dry. The next chore was to get into fresh clothing for an immediate trip to town. He figured if he got an earlier than usual start, he would have more time to begin turning things around in his efforts at poker.
His luck had remained bad for the past week. He owed Big Ed MacWilliams a big pile of money—over five hundred dollars—but Tim knew that one or two good evenings would not only square the debt, but give him a healthy profit too. Since Big Ed seemed cheerfully willing to advance him the funds, Tim’s optimism remained high. After all, Big Ed wouldn’t back somebody he’d figure as a loser.
After Tim had prepared himself he left the kitchen, and found Nancy sitting in a rocker on the porch. He looked down at his sister. “Don’t worry. Maybe tonight is the night I’ll come back with enough money so we can run this ranch for the next five years without worrying.”
Nancy said nothing. She watched him mount up and ride out of the ranch yard. When he looked back and waved, she made no move. Tim disappeared from sight, and the young woman stood there for a long time, lost in worried thought.
“Miss Nancy.” Rawley Pierson’s voice broke into her reverie.
She looked over at the side of the porch and saw him dismounting. She found the sight of the handsome man extremely pleasant. “Hello, Mr Pierson. I haven’t seen you for a while.”
“We’ve kept busy out at the arroyo,” Rawley said, walking up to her. “The boss wanted me to come in and fix that corral fence.”
“The boss!” she exclaimed. “Does he insist you call him that?”
“That he does,” Rawley said. “It’s all right. We don’t mind. After all, that’s what he is.”
“Papa was never called anything but his name,” Nancy said.
“Differ’nt folks use differ’nt styles,” Rawley pointed out. “Well, I reckon I’ll get to work. Tim says the tools are in the barn.”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “They’re kept with the extra harnesses in the far corner.”
“It’s nice seeing you again,” Rawley said. “We miss your cooking.”
Nancy laughed. “I’ve heard about the new cook. Tim says he’s even worse than the old one.”
“He sure is,” Rawley said. “Chaw says we could grind his biscuits down to bullets if we’d a mind to do so.
“How is old Chaw? It’s not the same around here without his complaining,” Nancy said.
“Believe me, we get enough of that out there,” Rawley said. “Well, I’d best to get work.”
He left her and walked out to the barn. The hammer and nails were on a shelf beneath the pegs holding harnesses and bridles. Some extra planking, weatherworn but sturdy, was also there. Rawley grabbed an armful of what he needed and lugged the load out to the corral.
Rawley wasted no time in getting to work. First he inspected the fence and did some renailing where that would help. After that, the cowboy pulled off broken boards and those that were split so bad that it wouldn’t take much force from some rambunctious bronco to knock them loose.
That was the most difficult part of the chore. Prying and tugging, he worked hard wrestling the stubborn slabs of wood from where they’d been solidly attached to the four-by-four posts sunk in the ground. Once that was done, Rawley settled in to replacing them with newer boards, nailing them solidly to the supports that made up the framework of the big fence.
He was almost two hours into the chore when Nancy interrupted him with some fresh, cool well water. “You look like a thirsty man,” she said.
“I sure am,” he said gratefully, taking a glassful. He drank it. “I got to admit that there’s times when water tastes better’n beer. And this is one o’ them times.”
“I can imagine,” Nancy said, noting how hot the afternoon had become.
Rawley consumed three glasses before his thirst was slaked. “I thank you kindly, Miss Nancy.”
“I hope you’re planning on staying for supper,” Nancy said.
“I’d truly like to,” Rawley said. “But I reckon the boss is gonna want me to get back to the herd as quick as possible when I finish with the corral.”
“I don’t care what Tim wants,” Nancy said drily. “I’ll be planning on you eating with us. And that means in the kitchen. Not out in the bunkhouse.”
“That’s most kind o’ you,” Rawley said. “But I don’t want to be the cause of any trouble between you and your brother.”
“You don’t have to worry about that, Mr Pierson,” Nancy assured him.
“In that case, it will be my pleasure, Miss Nancy,” Rawley remarked.
She left him, and went to the smoke house to select a ham to bake that night. As she walked back to the kitchen with the meat, she glanced over at Rawley. He seemed the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. Nancy recalled that he was particularly fond of her buttermilk biscuits, so she decided to prepare a batch for supper.
Rawley wasn’t so sure if staying over to eat at the ranch was such a good idea. No matter what Nancy said, there was no doubt that the situation would not be a welcome one for Tim Hawkins. Rawley knew that in spite of the fact that Nancy had insisted he stay, the young rancher would go out of his way to make things unpleasant out on the Diablos. And Rawley knew that sooner or later he’d finally lose his temper and dust the boss’s nose with his fist. Not that he’d regret it, but it would mean he would have to leave the ranch. And that meant leaving Nancy too.
But by the time he’d finished his chore and Nancy came out to fetch him to eat, Tim had not returned from town. Grateful for the slight chance of a reprieve, Rawley washed up and went inside the kitchen.
“Tim hasn’t shown up yet, hey?” he remarked.
“I really don’t expect him, Mr Pierson,” Nancy said. She pulled the pan of biscuits out of the oven.
Rawley sniffed the air. “Buttermilk biscuits!”
“Oh? Are you fond of them?” Nancy asked innocently.
“I sure am, Miss Nancy,” Rawley said. “And I never tasted none better’n yours.”
“Sit down,” Nancy said. “We can eat now.” They settled themselves around the table. Then she asked, “Will you say grace, Mr Pierson?”
Rawley smiled apologetically. “I’m right sorry, Miss Nancy. But I don’t know any prayers.”
“All you need do is bow your head and say, ‘Thank you, Lord, for this food. Amen.’ It’s real easy,” Nancy explained.
Rawley bowed his head. “Thank you, Lord, for this grub—I mean food. Amen.”
“That is a habit you should get used to,” Nancy said softly. “Will you carve the ham, Mr Pierson?”
“Sure!”
They ate slowly and with much enjoyment, as much for being in each other’s company as for the good food. Their conversation was light and sparkled with laughter as good humor eased into the lightness of the meal’s mood. Rawley had plenty of stories about himself and Chaw beginning when he was a boy and going right up to when they worked as lawmen together down in southern Texas.
When supper was finished, Rawley got up and helped Nancy clear the table. He even went outside and drew water to do the dishes. While she washed the utensils, Rawley, made himself useful by cleaning the ashes from the stove and laying the fire for the next morning. A half hour after they’d finished eating, the couple stood in a clean kitchen with everything put away in its proper place.
“I reckon I’d better get back out to the herd, Miss Nancy,” Rawley said. “And I thank you most kindly for the nice supper and your hospitality.”
“Why don’t I slice some ham and you can take it out to Chaw and the boys,” Nancy suggested. “After the way you described the food you’re eating out there, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”
“They sure will!” Rawley agreed with a laugh. Nancy started to walk in front of him to get to the kitchen counter. Rawley, impulsively without thinking, reached out and took her arm. He immediately let he
r go and started to apologize, but Nancy turned and moved close to him. They embraced, and Rawley gently kissed her when she raised her face to his.
“I was only staying here on account o’ you,” Rawley blurted out.
“I’m happy to hear that,” Nancy said.
He kissed her again. This time longer, and she hugged him tightly around the neck. The situation that had developed between the two was not a trivial fancy. A Texas woman did not allow herself to be kissed by a man unless she was extremely fond of him. And a self-respecting Texas man did not try to kiss a decent woman unless he was prepared to be nothing but honorable with her. What they had done, as far as both were concerned, was to declare their love for each other.
“I don’t want to spoil the nice way we feel, but I wonder what Tim’s gonna say when we tell him,” Rawley said.
“I don’t really care, Mister—” She laughed. “Rawley!”
“Nancy!”
“It’s about time we called each other by our first names,” Nancy said.
Rawley grinned. “I reckon.”
“Tim will have to take things as they are,” Nancy said. “But let me tell him.”
“But I’ll have to do the asking for your hand,” Rawley reminded her.
“Of course,” Nancy said. She stepped back. “Now let me get that ham.”
Rawley waited until she’d cut and wrapped a few slices. She even put in some buttermilk biscuits, although there was only enough to give Chaw, Jim Pauley, and Duane Wheeler one each. Rawley had gobbled down a good share of them during supper.
Nancy handed the food to Rawley. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“Me too,” he said sincerely. “But we can’t stay shorthanded for long out there.” He kissed her again. “I’ll see you first chance, Nancy.”
“We won’t have all the time we want together until after the cattle drive,” Nancy said.
Rawley nodded. “That’s when our lives are gonna change a whole lot. When we get back from Kansas.”
“We must be patient until then,” Nancy said.
“We got a lotta plans to make,” Rawley reminded her.
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