Texas Iron

by Robert J. Randisi

  Evan pulled the two girls to him tightly and said, “Now, which one of you ladies is going to offer to show me the upstairs?”

  The blonde leaned over, put her tongue in his ear, and said huskily, “Why not both of us?”

  Evan smiled and said, “Sure, why not?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sam was awakened by an insistent pounding on the door. He got out of bed and staggered naked to answer it. When he swung it open he saw his brothers standing in the hallway.

  “Jesus,” Evan said, “is that the way you always answer the door?”

  “When I’m awakened at an ungodly hour, yes,” Sam said. “What the hell is it?”

  “We want to have coffee in the hotel dining room,” Evan said.

  “Coffee here?” Sam said. “But we’re gonna have breakfast at Serena’s.”

  “We won’t ruin our breakfast,” Evan said. “There are some things we have to talk about without Serena listening.”

  Sam ran his hand over his face and said wearily, “What things?”

  “Get dressed and we’ll talk downstairs. We’ll wait for you there.”

  “All right, all right,” Sam said. “Just gimme five minutes.”

  He closed the door, splashed some water on his face, got dressed, and strapped on his gun. He couldn’t imagine what his brothers had found out that they wouldn’t want Serena to hear. But if they were so eager to talk to him about it that they’d awakened him early, it must have been important.

  He left his room and went down to the dining room.

  “It’s not so much what we found out that we don’t want Serena to hear,” Evan said, “but where.”

  Jubal laughed.

  “We followed John Burkett to the whorehouse last night,” he said. “I made friends with him by keeping him from getting his head bashed in. I left and went to the saloon with him for a drink, and Evan stayed at the whorehouse. That’s what he doesn’t want Serena to find out about.”

  Amused, Sam looked at his middle brother.

  Evan shrugged and said, “It would have been impolite for both of us to leave.”

  “Of course,” Sam said. “John Burkett is Lincoln’s son, right? Why would he talk to you, Jube?”

  “He’s never seen me. In fact, I’d never seen him before last night. A couple of bouncers were going to take him apart at the whorehouse. I helped him.”

  “And became his friend.”

  “Right.”

  “Why?”

  “To see what I could find out from him.”

  “And? Did you find out anythin’?”

  Jubal looked at Evan, and then back at Sam.

  “Yes, I did. John and three other men were sent to town to await the arrival of another man, a man his father has been waiting impatiently for for over three months, since he first sent for him. The man’s name is Jason Cord.”

  “What’s so important about this Cord?”

  “He’s a geologist, Sam,” Evan said.

  Sam looked at Evan and said, “A geologist?”

  “Interesting, huh?”

  “Now what would Lincoln Burkett need with a geologist?” Sam wondered aloud.

  “That’s what we were wondering,” Evan said.

  “Gold,” Jubal said. “It’s got to be, and I’ll bet it was on Pa’s land.”

  “Gold?” Sam said. “On the ranch? If that’s the case, why would Pa sell it?”

  “Maybe he didn’t know,” Evan said. “Maybe Burkett did.”

  “This might tell us why Burkett wanted the ranch,” Sam said, “but it still doesn’t tell us why Pa made the deal he made with Burkett. Did John Burkett have anythin’ to say about that?”

  “No,” Jubal said. “He was pretty drunk to start with, and got drunker still. All he did most of the night was complain about the way his father treats him. His old man owns the whorehouse, Sam, and he keeps John out of it.”

  “Is Burkett the owner of record?” Sam asked.

  “I doubt it,” Evan said, “but we can check that today, at the courthouse. It would be interesting to know what businesses Burkett has bought out, and what deals he made with the owners.”

  “My guess,” Sam said, “would be that whatever he’s bought he hasn’t done it openly. His name won’t be on the record of the sale. He’s not gonna want the town to know he’s buyin’ it up. Not yet.”

  “Maybe if they did find out,” Evan said, “they wouldn’t be so eager to have him as a citizen.”

  “Maybe somebody should let them know,” Jubal said.

  “Yeah, but we need proof first,” Sam said. “After breakfast why don’t you go and look it up, Evan. Jube, you can stay with Serena until Evan comes back.”

  “And what are you gonna do?”

  “I thought I might go out and ride around the ranch a bit.”

  “If Burkett’s men see you—” Evan started.

  “That’ll be their hard luck,” Sam said.

  “You think you’re gonna find gold on the ground, just like that?” Jubal asked.

  “I don’t know what I’m gonna find,” Sam said. “I won’t know until I get out there.”

  “You’re not going to see Burkett, are you?” Evan asked.

  “I’ve thought about it,” Sam said. “I think I’ll play it by ear for a while, though. I’ll try to be back before dinner.”

  “All right,” Evan said, “we’d better get over to Serena’s for breakfast.”

  As they left Sam wondered when they had started referring to the Miller house as “Serena’s” and not “Dude’s.”

  Serena wondered why Sam, Evan, and Jubal were so quiet at breakfast. She thought that they were probably planning something, but she didn’t want to ask them yet. They were talking mostly to her father, but it was all small talk, about the past, about their parents.

  After breakfast they went into the living room with her father while she cleaned up the kitchen.

  There Evan said to Miller, “Dude, has there ever been a gold strike around here?”

  “Here? Hell, no. What makes you ask that?”

  The three brothers exchanged glances and then Evan said, “Burkett’s brought in a geologist.”

  “A geologist? What would he need a geologist for?”

  “We figure there’s something on Pa’s land that Burkett knew about. Gold seems the most likely thing.”

  “But why would your father—”

  “We’ve already asked those questions, Dude,” Evan said. “Sam’s gonna ride out today and take a look around the ranch. Maybe he’ll find something.”

  “Yeah, trouble,” Miller said. “You can’t let him go out there alone.”

  “We don’t have a choice,” Evan said. “I have something else to do. Jubal’s going to stay here with Serena.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Miller said. “I’m fine now.

  Serena and I can go and open the store and stay there. I can take care of her.”

  “Just the same,” Evan said, “Jubal’ll go with you.”

  “Evan—”

  “Do this our way, Dude,” Sam said.

  Miller looked at Sam and then said, “All right.”

  “I’m gonna leave now,” Sam said. “I’ll see you all later.”

  “Be careful,” Jubal said.

  “Always.”

  Just as Sam went out the front door Serena came into the room.

  “Where’s Sam?” she asked, looking at all of them in turn. “What’s going on? You all look like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.”

  “I’ve got to go to the courthouse,” Evan said. “Jube, explain it to her.”

  “Sure,” Jubal said as Evan headed for the door, “thanks.”

  Sam went to the livery and told Swede he needed his horse.

  “I’ll get him for you, Sam,” Swede said.

  While Sam waited for his horse he thought back to his prospecting days in Shasta County, California. That was another time when he’d thought he could put his gu
n down. It didn’t work out any better than his marriage had, but he had learned about what to look for when searching for gold.

  The Swede walked his horse out to him and handed him the reins.

  “Are you going riding alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “After what happened near the telegraph office—”

  “The telegraph office!” Sam said.

  “What about it?” Swede asked, but Sam had alreadymounted up and was riding to the hotel. The incident at the telegraph office had been several days ago, and Sam had completely forgotten to check for his reply.

  He stopped at the hotel and went inside to the desk clerk.

  “Is there a telegraph message for me?”

  “I’ll check, sir.” The clerk turned and looked in Sam’s box, then came out with a yellow slip of paper. He handed it to Sam.

  “Thanks.”

  Sam took it outside and read it there. It was from Murdock, who said that while he was too far away to be of any use there was a man who might be able to help them out. His name was Carson, Frank Carson. Murdock further stated that he would have Carson ride into Vengeance Creek as soon as he could.

  Good ol’ Page, Sam thought. Came through, as always.

  He put the message in his pocket to show to his brothers later, mounted up and rode out.

  At the courthouse Evan McCall looked up the ownership of Louise’s, which was on the records as a saloon. Louise Simon was the only owner of record. If Burkett did own a piece of the business—or the business as a whole—it was through a private deal he made with Louise.

  That made sense to Evan. It fit with what he and his brothers figured, that Burkett would be keeping his movements to himself as long as possible.

  There was no point in looking up any other records. If Burkett owned any other business it would not be reflected in any records that were available to the public.

  Since he finished at the courthouse so early, Evan decided to ride after Sam, just in case his older brother found more trouble than he’d anticipated.

  Jason Cord came down to breakfast at the Burketthouse and found his host and his son waiting there for him. The breakfast that was laid out on the long dining room table was impressive: eggs, potatoes, ham and biscuits, flapjacks, coffee and milk.

  “Well,” Cord said, “this is quite a feast, gentlemen. Do you eat like this all the time?”

  “Never mind that,” Lincoln Burkett said. “Sit your skinny ass down and answer some questions, Cord.”

  Jason Cord was a rather timid man in his late twenties, sandy-haired, tall and thin. Violent language and violence had never been part of his life. He had thought twice about coming west, but the offer of payment was so good that he couldn’t resist. And if he managed to find what Burkett thought he’d find, it would mean even more money.

  “Um, yes, sir,” he said, sitting down. “What kind of questions?”

  “Like where the hell you been for the past three months?” Burkett asked. “It shouldn’t have taken you this long to get here from Chicago.”

  “Well, sir,” Cord said, helping himself to the food on the table, “there were matters which had to be put to rest before I could leave Chicago. I had business dealings there which had to be transferred, and then there was the matter of my fiancée, Abigail. She was not very happy about my coming out here, but when I explained to her the possibilities—” “You told her what you were coming out here to look for?” Burkett said, exploding. “I thought I made it clear in my letter that no one was to know—”

  “No, no, Mr. Burkett,” Cord was quick to say, “I did not tell her exactly what I was coming out to do, but I did tell her that very soon I would have the money to send for her—”

  “All right, all right,” Burkett said, “I don’t want to hearabout your goddamned woman. Just eat your breakfast and we’ll get started.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you?” Burkett said to his son.

  “Yes, Pa?”

  “You were at Louise’s last night, weren’t you? Causing a ruckus.”

  “Aw, Pa, we was just havin’ some fun—”

  “Never mind,” Burkett said. “At your age you should be thinking less about fun and more about business.”

  “The business is yours, Pa, not mine.”

  “But it will be yours someday, God damn it!” Burkett said, slamming his hand down hard on the table. “I wish you’d stop getting drunk all the time—”

  “I don’t get drunk all the time—”

  “I heard those bouncers at Louise’s would have taken your head off if some fella hadn’t helped you out.”

  “And it would have been your fault.”

  “My fault?”

  “Sure, they work for you, don’t they?” John Burkett said. “I mean, you own Louise’s, don’t you?”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Never mind where. You bought it and instructed her to keep me out. Why’d you do that?”

  “Son,” Burkett said, “if you want a woman I’ll get you a woman. But if you keep mixing with those kind of women you’re gonna end up with some goddamned disease or other. You want a wife, I’ll get you one, but—”

  “I’ll get my own women, thank you,” John said. “Jesus, Pa, I don’t want you giving me everything.”

  “Then how do you expect to get it?” Lincoln Burkett demanded. “You don’t do a lick of work!”

  John was about to answer when Chuck Conners entered the room.

  “Chuck,” Burkett said, “come and fall to and have somebreakfast. Meet Jason Cord, the geologist I sent for from the east.”

  “Mr. Cord.”

  “Cord, Conners is my foreman. You’ll be taking orders from him as well as from me.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  As an afterthought Lincoln Burkett added, “And from my son.”

  John Burkett looked at his father in surprise.

  “Your orders will come from one of the three of us and no one else. Do you understand?”

  “I understand, Mr. Burkett.”

  “Johnny,” Burkett said, “after dinner you and Chuck take Mr. Cord out and show him what we found. All right?”

  “Sure, Pa,” John Burkett said, “sure.”

  Sam knew the land that had been his father’s very well. The land didn’t change, and after all these years he still knew where everything was. For what he was looking for, he chose to check the streams and water holes that were on Burkett’s land.

  He rode the streams, dismounting every so often to stick his hand in the water and bring up some of the bottom. He was riding along the edge of a wide stream when he noticed something he hadn’t noticed elsewhere: the soil here seemed blacker, and deeper, than in other places. He dismounted, grounded his horse’s reins, and hunkered down on his heels.

  He stuck his hand into the soil, which was like black mud, and lifted it to his nose. He sniffed it, then touched it to his lips so he could taste it. He rubbed it between his fingers and then between his palms and then fell deep into thought.

  He stayed that way until he heard the sound of approaching horses. There was a stand of Joshua trees nearby, and he grabbed up his horse’s reins and walked him over to it. He had just secreted himself there when he saw three riders coming from the other side of the stream. He had seen John Burkett around town a few times and recognized him. The same went to Chuck Conners, Burkett’s foreman. The other man he didn’t know, but from the way he was dressed and the way he sat his horse, it wasn’t hard to peg him for an Easterner. He was probably the geologist Burkett had sent for.

  Sam stood right next to his horse, keeping his hand on the animal’s nose, wanting to keep him as quiet as possible until the three men had passed. They weren’t passing, however. Instead they stopped several yards further down the stream from where he had stopped. That was good; they wouldn’t notice his horse’s tracks.

  He watched as all three men dismounted. The geologist was the only one who hunkered down and
examined the mud the way he had, but the man went further: he had some supplies and tools with him, and he was apparently going to run some tests.

  Sam watched with great interest as the minutes passed and finally, after an hour or so, the geologist was apparently ready to leave. Sam watched the man take some samples of the mud and then all three men mounted up and rode off.

  Sam walked his horse back down to the stream, over to where the geologist had been.

  Suddenly, Sam was convinced that there was no gold here, but that there was something here that was almost as valuable.

  He mounted up and headed back to town. He had a lot to tell his brothers.

  Evan was beginning to think he’d made a mistake.

  Although he knew the land almost as well as Sam, he didn’t quite know what Sam would be looking for, or where. The ranch was large enough that they could ride around all day and never run into one another.

  And then, of course, you could always run into someone just by accident.

  When Evan saw the three riders approaching him he recognized two of them immediately. He could have turned and rode off, but he decided to brazen it out. For one thing, the third rider didn’t look like he’d be any harm to anyone, and Evan doubted if there would be any violence.

  As the three reached him they reined in.

  “What are you doing here, fella?” Chuck Conners asked.

  “Just riding around.”

  “You’re on private property, you know.”

  “I know,” Evan said, “but I’m not harming anything.”

  “That don’t make no never mind, mister,” John Burkett said. “I’d advise you to ride out of here right now, hear?”

  “I hear you, boy.”

  John Burkett didn’t seem to like being called “boy” anymore than Jubal McCall did.

  “Mister, I don’t know who you are—”

  “The name’s McCall.”

  “McCall?” Burkett said.

  “Now I remember you,” Conners said. “You’re Evan McCall.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I didn’t recognize you without your fancy gambler’s suit.”

  Before leaving town Evan had gone to his room to change from his dark suit into something more suitable for riding.