The Loner: Rattlesnake Valley

by J. A. Johnstone

  Diana lit a lamp that she took from one of the tables, as well, then carried it with her as she opened a door that led to a hallway running toward the western end of the house. “Uncle Owen’s study is down here,” she explained.

  As she approached a heavy door, she used her free hand to reach in a pocket on her riding skirt and pull out a key. It rattled in the lock as she thrust it in and turned it. Leaving the key in the lock, she pulled the door open.

  “It’s bloody well about time,” Owen Starbird’s voice lashed out from the study. “I’ve been sitting in here in the dark listening to those shots, not knowing if you were alive or dead, damn it!” The wheels of his chair creaked as he shoved himself forward into the light. His stern face was taut with fury. “What happened?”

  “Malone attacked the ranch,” Diana said. “His men opened fire on the crew just as they were finishing the last of the day’s work and coming in for supper. The men scattered and hunted cover, but a couple of them were wounded.”

  “Who?”

  “Deuce Robinson and Jim Woodley.”

  “How badly are they hurt?”

  Diana shook her head. “I don’t know. The men carried them in to the bunkhouse. I sent Carmelita out there to take a look at them. We may have to send to Bristol for the doctor, though.”

  “Was anyone else injured?”

  “A couple of bullet burns, that’s all.”

  “And where are the bushwhackers now?”

  “They took off for the tall and uncut.” Diana glanced at The Kid. “I’d say Mr. Morgan tipped the odds in our favor when he opened fire on them from the second floor.”

  “I see.” Starbird looked at The Kid and nodded. “Thank you, sir. I greatly appreciate your assistance in this matter.”

  “They were shooting at me, too,” The Kid pointed out.

  Starbird smiled humorlessly. “And I suppose that makes it your fight.”

  “Damn right it does.”

  Starbird turned his gaze back to Diana again. “So the bushwhackers are gone, the wounded are being tended to, and the situation is under control?”

  “That’s right,” she said.

  The Kid wasn’t surprised by what happened next. He could tell that Starbird had been holding in his anger until he found out exactly what had happened and what was going on. Satisfied that the emergency was over, the retired sea captain unleashed his fury in a blistering outburst.

  “By the Lord Harry, girl, if you ever shove me in a room and lock the door as soon as trouble starts again, I’ll see to it that you rue that day for the rest of your life!”

  “I was trying to keep you from getting shot, damn it!” Diana flared back at him.

  “I never hid from danger a single time in a long, perilous career. I always did my duty!”

  “And what could you have done tonight?” Diana demanded. “In your condition, you can’t—”

  She stopped as her uncle’s face turned white. The Kid had a feeling that Diana’s words had just done more damage to Owen Starbird than a bullet could have.

  A little lump of muscle moved around in Starbird’s tightly clenched jaw. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m useless since my legs don’t work anymore, aren’t I?”

  “That’s not what I mean, Uncle Owen, and you know it.”

  “That’s exactly what you meant. A man who can’t walk isn’t any good for anything. That’s what you think. But you could have pushed me up to a window and given me a rifle. I can still shoot. My arms and my eyes work just fine.”

  “I thought of that,” Diana admitted. “But you couldn’t get out of the line of fire quickly if you needed to. It wasn’t really a matter of what you can do, Uncle Owen. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  Her words actually made sense, The Kid thought, but they didn’t seem to make any difference to Starbird. He just snorted in disgust, then said, “Tell Rocklin that I want him to take some of the men and trail those bushwhackers in the morning.”

  “What good will that do? We know Malone sent them.”

  “Yes, but if the trail leads back to the Trident, then we’ll have proof we can turn over to the law.”

  “What law?” Diana asked. “Deputy Collier isn’t going to try to arrest Malone by himself, and the Rangers don’t care or they would have shown up in the valley by now. We have to handle this trouble ourselves.”

  “Tell Rocklin what I said anyway. I like to know where I stand before I act.”

  Diana nodded. “Of course. I don’t think it’s going to do any good, though.”

  Starbird started to wheel himself into the hall. “I want to know how those wounded men are doing. I’ll get my crutches.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Diana told him. “I’ll go out to the bunkhouse and check on them.”

  “I’d rather see for myself,” Starbird said.

  Diana glared at him for a second, then said, “Fine. Be stubborn if you want. I can’t stop you.”

  “You most certainly can’t.” Starbird looked up at The Kid. “If I could prevail on you to give me a hand, Morgan…”

  The Kid didn’t want to get caught in the war of wills between Diana and her uncle. It seemed that he was in the middle, though, whether he wanted to be or not. Diana would probably see it as taking sides, but he stepped behind the wheelchair and gripped its handles as he said, “All right, Captain.”

  Sure enough, Diana glared at him. He ignored the look and pushed Starbird along the hall to the living room. Starbird’s crutches leaned there against the wall. The Kid got them and brought them over, then helped Starbird stand up and get the crutches under his arms.

  Diana followed them into the room and stood with her arms crossed and a look of disapproval on her face. The Kid glanced at her, then helped Starbird out the door and onto the porch. Getting down the steps wasn’t easy, but with one of The Kid’s hands on his arm to steady him, the retired naval officer managed. The two of them crossed the large open space between the main house and the bunkhouse.

  The Kid matched his stride to Starbird’s slow pace. He said, “I know it’s none of my business, Captain, but—”

  “How did I lose the use of my legs?” Starbird gave a short bark of hollow laughter. “You’re right, it’s none of your business, old boy. I don’t blame you for being curious, though. You realize that a man couldn’t captain one of Her Majesty’s warships without being able to walk.”

  The Kid nodded. “Yes, that’s the thought that crossed my mind.”

  “I began having trouble about three years ago. The doctors in England believed it was some sort of progressive nerve disorder, and they were right in that the condition steadily grew worse. That’s why I had to retire from the Royal Navy, although I would have reached that age in a few more years anyway. My brother invited me to come here, to his ranch, rather than settling in England, and I accepted. To be honest, I’d spent so much time away from England over the years that I couldn’t see returning there for good. It didn’t really feel like home to me anymore. By the time I arrived in Texas and found that my brother was dead, I had to use two canes to get around, and my condition continued to worsen until my legs were no good to me at all. The muscles have wasted away since then. Carmelita tries to keep some life in them by massaging them every day, but it’s a losing battle, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” The Kid said. “I appreciate you being honest with me. If I’m going to be in a fight, I like to know who my allies are.”

  Starbird looked over at him. “You sound as if you’ve reconsidered your earlier decision. Are you willing to work for us after all?”

  “No, I’m still not looking for a job. I won’t take your wages. But I didn’t like Malone to start with, and after what happened tonight, I like him even less. Getting shot at makes it personal.”

  “Indeed. It’s difficult to get much more personal than someone trying to kill you.”

  They reached the bunkhouse. Sam Rocklin stepped out to greet them. Light from
inside the building spilled through the open door. “Cap’n,” he said, “what can I do for you?”

  “I came to check on the condition of the two lads who were wounded,” Starbird replied.

  The Kid could tell by the grim cast that came over Rocklin’s face that the news wasn’t good. “Jim Woodley’s dead,” the ramrod said. “He lost too much blood. There was nothin’ Carmelita could do for him. Deuce is in pretty bad shape, but at least he’s hangin’ on for now.”

  “Would it help to fetch the doctor from Bristol, or should we take young Robinson into town?”

  Rocklin shook his head. “I wouldn’t move him. The buckboard ride would finish him off, sure as shootin’. His best chance would be for somebody to bring the sawbones out here.”

  “Then send a rider now,” Starbird ordered. “A man can reach the settlement by morning and have the doctor here before the day is over tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rocklin said with a nod. “I’ll send Orrie. He’s a good rider and has a fast hoss.”

  Starbird went on, “I already spoke to my niece about this, but since I’m out here, I might as well tell you myself. In the morning, I want you to take some men and trail those scoundrels who attacked the ranch. I want to know where they came from.”

  “Beggin’ your pardon, Cap’n, but we know where they came from. Malone’s spread.”

  Starbird shook his head. “We don’t know that for a fact. I want confirmation.”

  “Well…you’re the boss. When those varmints lit a shuck outta here, they were movin’ pretty fast, so they weren’t tryin’ to cover their tracks. I bet they slowed down, though, after they put some ground behind ’em, and took care to make their trail harder to follow.”

  “Let’s find out one way or the other, shall we?”

  “You betcha.” Rocklin inclined his head toward the interior of the bunkhouse. “You want to see Deuce?”

  “Is he awake?”

  “Off and on.”

  “Very well. Perhaps a word from me will lift the young man’s spirits.”

  “That’s what I was thinkin’.”

  Rocklin moved aside. Starbird thumped in to the bunkhouse on his crutches, followed by The Kid. Rocklin led them to one of the bunks, where Carmelita sat on a stool next to the bed and used a wet rag to wipe the forehead of the wounded man. That was probably all she could do for him. Bloody bandages were wrapped around the young cowboy’s torso. At least the crimson stains didn’t seem to be spreading, The Kid noted. Maybe the bleeding had stopped, which would be a good sign.

  At the heavy sound of the captain’s crutches, Deuce’s eyes flickered open. He looked up and rasped, “C-Cap’n? Is that…you?”

  “It is indeed, lad,” Starbird replied. “I see that you’ve been wounded.”

  “It ain’t…nothin’…Cap’n…I’ll be…back on my feet…in no time…fightin’ Black Terence and his…blasted skunks.”

  “I’m certain you will be. In the meantime, we’ll give you the best possible care. Try to rest, and don’t trouble your mind about anything.”

  The boy’s eyelids started to slide closed, as if they weighed a hundred pounds each. “I’ll try…Cap’n…”

  Starbird frowned and leaned forward, balancing himself on the crutches. “I say! Is he—”

  Carmelita shook her head and said, “He sleeps. That is all, Capitán.”

  “Very well.” Starbird let go of one crutch, keeping it propped under his arm, and used that hand to pat the woman on the shoulder. “Do everything you can for him.”

  “Sí, Capitán.”

  As Starbird turned away from the bunk, he said to Rocklin, “Don’t forget what I told you about tomorrow morning.”

  The foreman nodded. “Yes, sir. We’ll get on the trail at first light.”

  The Kid spoke up. “I’m going with you.”

  Rocklin frowned. “I reckon that’s up to the cap’n.”

  “Mr. Morgan was of invaluable assistance tonight,” Starbird said. “I see no harm in him accompanying you, Sam.”

  “Sure, boss, whatever you say.” Rocklin hesitated. “Earlier, though, before all the shootin’ broke out, I was talkin’ to some of the boys. They’ve heard of this fella. Seems he’s gettin’ quite a rep as a gunfighter.”

  Starbird smiled. “Then it sounds as if Mr. Morgan is exactly the sort of chap we need on our side, doesn’t it?”

  Chapter 10

  By the time The Kid and Captain Starbird got back to the main house, Diana had rustled up some supper since Carmelita was busy in the bunkhouse, taking care of the wounded Deuce Robinson. It was a simple meal, leftover beef, beans, and tortillas, but it tasted good to The Kid, especially when it was washed down with strong coffee.

  After supper, Starbird asked The Kid to help him get ready for bed, another chore Carmelita usually handled. Diana offered to help, but Starbird shook his head firmly.

  “Wouldn’t be proper, don’t you know,” he said in a tone that didn’t allow for any argument. “Dashed improper, in fact.”

  “I don’t mind,” The Kid said. He assisted Starbird to the captain’s bedroom, which was on the first floor for the sake of convenience, across the hall from his study.

  Once there, The Kid helped with the necessary tasks, carrying them out with no fuss or extra delay. He knew it had to be galling to a man as proud as Owen Starbird to need a helping hand with such basic, private matters.

  “Thank you, old boy,” Starbird said from the big, four-poster bed when The Kid was ready to leave the room. “I believe we’re fortunate that my niece happened to run into you.” He hesitated. “You strike me as a man with a kind heart.”

  The Kid chuckled. “I haven’t been accused of that too often. I’m a gunfighter, remember?”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t be a decent individual as well.”

  “Most folks would disagree with you about that,” The Kid said with a smile.

  He lifted a hand in farewell as he went out of the room. After easing the door closed behind him, he went back along the hall to the living room, which also served as the dining room. Diana still sat at the table, sipping from her coffee cup.

  “There’s brandy, if you’d like some,” she said without looking at him.

  “That’s a mighty tempting offer.”

  She nodded toward the sideboard. “Help yourself.”

  The Kid went over and poured brandy from a crystal decanter into a glass. He asked Diana, “How about you?”

  She smiled and held up her cup. “You don’t think this is all coffee in here, do you?”

  He returned the smile and sipped the brandy. It was excellent, much better than what he expected to find on a cattle ranch in an isolated West Texas valley.

  “I got your uncle settled in for the night,” he said.

  “Thank you. Sometimes Uncle Owen isn’t the easiest person in the world to deal with…but I’m sure he’d say the same thing about me!”

  “I won’t pretend to know him very well after just meeting him, but he strikes me as a proud man. It must be difficult for him to accept being crippled.”

  Diana’s expression softened into one of sympathy and even a little pity, which The Kid was sure Owen Starbird would hate if he saw it.

  “If he hadn’t already been sick when he came here, and if my father was still alive, Malone never would have tried anything. He wouldn’t have dared to go up against the Starbird brothers.” She took a bigger slug of the brandy-laced coffee. “But my father is gone, and Uncle Owen is just a shadow of the man he used to be. Life just isn’t fair.”

  The Kid thought about some of the tragedies that had dogged his own life, beginning with the murder of his mother by outlaws and the similar circumstances that had taken his wife Rebel’s life. He said, “It never claimed to be fair.” After a moment, he went on, “I talked to your uncle about what happened to him. The doctors here and over in England weren’t able to do anything for him at all?”

  Diana shook her head. “They just t
old him he’d have to resign himself to the fact that he’d never walk properly again. By now, of course, his legs have weakened so much that I don’t think he’ll ever walk again, period. At least, not without his crutches.”

  “That’s a terrible thing, but at least he’s still alive.”

  “If you can call it living, for a man like Uncle Owen who led such an active existence.”

  The Kid tossed back the rest of his drink. He wasn’t the sort to sit around and mope about his own bad luck, or anyone else’s for that matter.

  “Your uncle already talked to Sam Rocklin about trying to trail those bushwhackers in the morning. We’ll be riding out at first light.”

  Diana’s eyebrows rose. “You’re going with them?”

  “I know a little about tracking,” he said. He wasn’t as good at it as his father was, but he wouldn’t hold the group back and might even be able to help. If they happened to run into more trouble, his guns would definitely come in handy.

  “So you’re really in this fight now,” Diana said as she looked intently at him.

  “It appears that I am.”

  “Because Malone shot at you.”

  The Kid set the empty glass on the sideboard. “I don’t like to let anybody get away with that.”

  “But after the fight with Wolfram you were still willing to ride away.”

  “That particular fight was over,” The Kid said with a shrug. “It was Malone’s idea to start another one.”

  Diana shook her head and said, “I’ll never understand men. If you and Uncle Owen are prime examples, then you’re all stubborn, bullheaded, and impossible to figure out!”

  “Sort of like women,” The Kid said.

  Then he headed upstairs before Diana could think of anything to say in return. As he climbed the stairs, he couldn’t help but wonder if he really was looking for trouble after all, despite telling himself that he wasn’t.

  Otherwise, why did he keep winding up in the middle of it?

  Carmelita was in the kitchen when The Kid came down the next morning before dawn. Thankfully his dreams had not been haunted by nightmarish memories.