"Twenty sound fair?" Morey asked.
"More than fair to me, but it ain't to you."
"More than fair to me, boy. You just saved me herding one less mule-head twenty miles. I ought to be paying you. 'Sides, I done told you that's all I'd get for them."
"Easiest horse deal I ever made," Gabe said, handing the money over.
"Fetch him out, then come up to the house, and I'll give you a bill of sale. You got your gear in the wagon?"
"Don't have any yet," Gabe answered, throwing a loop of rope over the buckskin's neck. He came to Gabe easily enough, but he had a look in his eye that said it wasn't willingly. "Maybe I'd better borrow a saddle long enough to work the kicks out."
"Sure." Morey pointed to a worn saddle and bridle on the fence. "Go on and take it with you. Sally can fetch it back, or is she going back? You did say she's going to help you with the young'un?"
"During the day," Gabe said with a nod. "Sure it's all right to take this?"
"Sure, it's just an old saddle I keep around to rough out mustangs. Come on up to the house when you get finished."
* * *
To Gabe's irritation Morey and Sally both kept telling him to go into that house. Didn't they have sense enough to see Miss Mentrol didn't want him in there? Gabe stalled, taking more time than was necessary, hoping Morey would finish that bill of sale and come back out. Morey was still out of sight when the buckskin had finished working out the kicks and settled down to a gentle walk. With no more reason to stall, Gabe rode up to the back door.
* * *
Sally was chewing Sammy out for not being hospitable when Morey came in. Morey listened to what Sally had to say, before putting in his two cents worth.
"You invited him," Morey told Sally. "That should have been enough."
"That's what I said," Sammy retorted.
"Well, it weren't. He figures I work for you so I didn't have the say, and you wouldn't say he was welcome."
"Sally, he didn't want to come in," Sammy argued.
"Would have if you'd made some sign of welcome instead of standing there like you was carved of stone."
Danny started whining again. "You better take him out to Gabe," Sammy said.
"Do no such thing. I don't want Gabe knowing how the boy frets for him."
"Why, Sally? If Mr. Taylor knew, he'd…"
"See to it the boy didn't have a chance to fret. Then where would he be? A man cain't do a day's work with a baby dragging at his heels."
"Well, I don't want to listen to him cry," Sammy retorted, picking Danny up.
"Women," Morey muttered, stomping off and muttering about making out a bill of sale.
"For a town boy, he sure can ride," Sally commented, watching through the window over Sammy's shoulder as the buckskin bucked across the corral.
"Maybe he isn't a town man," Sammy answered, knowing full well Gabe wasn't.
"What else, with them clothes?" Sally said, raising an eyebrow at the substitution of man for boy. "Unless…why, sure, that's the reason he acted like that about coming to the front door. He's a cowboy."
Sammy turned her head to look at Sally. "He didn't want to come in because of the door?" she asked.
"Nope, thought the back was best, just like now." She nodded her head as Gabe rode up to the back door.
Sammy made her decision quickly, reaching the back door just as he raised his hand to knock. She jerked it open and said, "Come in, Mr. Taylor. Morey will be with you in a minute. Sally, fix Mr. Taylor a cup of coffee."
"No, thank you, ma'am. I got to be getting back," Gabe said, staying right where he'd backed to outside edge of the back stoop.
"You have a good hour of sunlight left, Mr. Taylor. Please come in."
"You don't get in here, I'll come after you," Sally warned from the stove where she filled him a cup.
Gabe nodded his head at Sammy as he stepped in. "Kind of you," he mumbled, holding out his hands to take Danny, who was leaning away from Sammy, reaching for him.
Sammy burned a little over his remark, which she thought sounded as if he felt she were lowering herself to offer him anything, then decided it was better not to be so defensive. "Did you find a horse to your liking?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am. It'll do me fine. I'll see that saddle gets back tomorrow."
"Saddle?" she asked.
"My old one," Morey said as he walked back into the room and handed Gabe the bill of sale.
"That horrible old thing?" Sammy exclaimed. "Couldn't you have found something better?"
"We don't have saddles growing around here," he snorted.
"Sam's is still out there, serving no use," Sally offered.
"Yes, and in a lot better shape than yours," Sammy agreed. "Would you get it for him, Morey?"
"No," Gabe told her bluntly. "That one's fine, all I need right now. Hedges can pick me up one in town."
"I'm not trying to give it to you," Sammy said with fire in her eyes. "I'm only loaning it to you for a day, and you needn't be so stubborn about it."
"You just keep giving, and I cain't give nothing back," he shot back.
"Would you be so proud if I were a man?"
"Probably not," he admitted, "but you ain't."
"And never will be, so if that's what sticks in your craw, I guess we're both stuck with it," she shouted, whirled, and ran out of the room.
Gabe left just about as fast. "Bye," he told Sally and Morey, ducking out the door.
"Now what brought all that on?" Morey asked.
"If you don't know, it wouldn't do no good trying to tell ya," Sally retorted. "But you just watch; things is going to be popping around here.”
Chapter Seven
Gabe didn't want to go to town, but he figured he'd put it off as long as he could. He had to have a saddle, not to mention some new clothes, and Crossings was the only place to get them. Putting it off any longer wasn't going to make it easier to face those people. If there was one thing about Brenda Cargin he knew, it was she meant every word of the threat she'd hurled at him after throwing Danny off the buckboard. If she set out to ruin him, there wouldn't be a decent person in Crossings that would think kindly of him, except for Hedges.
He decided to take advantage of Morey's saddle while he had it, and set out for town, leaving Danny with Sally. At least he could save Danny that. The boy scared easily, and people could get ugly when they thought they were being righteous. He'd probably be lucky to get out of town without getting involved in a fist fight.
When Gabe hit town and heads started turning to look him over, he steeled himself for the worst. He went to the hotel first and wasn't too surprised to find that Hedges wasn't there. The man seemed to spend precious little time at his own place of business.
Gabe tried the saloon, looking through the door to avoid facing anyone if Hedges wasn't there. The saloon was the easiest place in the world for a snide remark to end up in a fight. Hedges wasn't there, either, and Gabe gave up looking for him. He didn't know Hedges well enough to know where else in town he might be.
Next stop was the general store. The man behind the counter was polite, mighty curious, but he wasn't making any comments or asking questions. Things were going along fine until Burns walked in.
"Ah, Mr. Taylor, I've been planning on going out to see you."
Gabe had sized Burns up the first time he met him. He was a man who'd be nice to him only because he wanted something. Gabe knew that, and he knew what it was Burns wanted.
"Need some things," he said shortly.
"Just tell the clerk and he'll get it for you while we talk."
"I already told him."
"Then I'll get right down to business. I want to buy that deed from you. I'll pay good money for it."
"It ain't for sale," Gabe said bluntly, hoping to put a quick end to the conversation.
"Then you're going to stay. That's good. It's time the ranchers learned they—"
"I'm only staying till Miss Mentrol takes it."
Burns
went back to buying. "I'll pay you twice what she offered."
"She's gonna pay what I agreed on when I took the deed."
"As I understand it, you made no such agreement. It was Scott who did."
"Mister," Gabe told him with a tight hold on his temper, "it was decided by all that the deed would go to her and for what price."
"You aren't bound by any poker table deal other men made, and I'll give you three times the amount. Three hundred dollars means a lot to a man in your position."
Gabe's eyes snapped up to pierce his. "What position is that?" he asked, his voice cold as ice.
"I meant no offense, but ready cash—"
"It ain't for sale. Don't ask me again."
Mr. Burns blustered. He had the look of a man who was going to say more to someone he considered beneath him. Gabe was ready for it, but Burns was lucky. Hedges came in, bursting with good cheer and a hardy hello.
"You come with me. I got something important to show you," Hedges said, reaching up to throw an arm over Gabe's broad shoulders.
"I got some things to get," Gabe said, trying to shake his arm off.
"You can come back for them. This is important." Hedges turned around and told the clerk, "You just wrap them up. He'll come back for them."
"Do you have to be so all-fired pushy?" Gabe asked, finally shaking free of Hedges' arm when they reached the boardwalk.
"Nope, but you won't be so mad when you see what I got. 'Sides, you had Burns so mad he was about to pop his collar button. What'd you say to him?"
"Nothing," Gabe retorted. "What you got to show me anyway?"
"Over at the hotel," he said. "Burns try to buy that deed from you?"
"Do you listen at keyholes, too?"
"Everyone figured he would. What'd you tell him?"
Gabe gave him a one word answer. "No."
"It was more than no. I can tell by the way he looked."
When Gabe glared at him, he added, "I ain't asking, just observing."
"The hell you're not," Gabe grumbled under his breath, stepping to the side of the walk to let a woman coming towards them pass.
"Howdy, Mrs. Jones," Hedges said, and the woman stopped.
"Is this Mr. Taylor?" she asked.
Gabe held his breath, waiting for the self-righteous attack, but she surprised him. Instead of turning her back on him, she said, "I'm very pleased to meet you." Then she took a deep breath and said in a rush, "I have some very nice things for a boy that age that my son has outgrown. Would you be offended if I offered them?"
"No, ma'am," Gabe said in astonishment.
"Oh, I'm so glad. I'll go get them right now." She started off in a rush then turned back and added, "It's such a fine thing you're doing for that boy. A fine thing."
Gabe stared after her until Hedges started to chuckle. "What have you been telling them?" Gabe demanded.
"Nothing, not a thing. That there wasn't my doing at all. Come on in here now. It just come this morning, and I was gonna bring it out to you."
Gabe followed Hedges until he came to a stop in a back room of the hotel. "Who did?" he asked, ignoring the box Hedges pointed to so proudly.
"Who did what?" Hedges asked in puzzlement.
"Whose doing was that?" Gabe asked, pointing back in the direction of their meeting with Mrs. Jones.
"Folks would naturally think it was a good deed to take a child in. Open it."
"I'm not taking anything else from you. You've done too—"
"Ain't from me. Open it," Hedges said impatiently.
"Hedges, I ain't taking anything I don't earn, not no more."
"You earned this right enough," Hedges snorted, jerking the top off the crate.
"You—" Gabe broke off and dropped to one knee, reaching out to touch the tooled leather. His fingers traced the fancy scrolls across the fenders to make sure the saddle was real.
"That's yours right enough, ain't it?" Hedges asked triumphantly.
"Where'd you get it?" Gabe asked, pulling the saddle up for a better look.
"Ollie rounded it up. He's been holding it till you lit somewhere."
"He polished it," Gabe said, feeling a thickness in his throat. Getting choked up over a saddle was silly. It was just that it represented so many memories and someone had cared enough to get it back to him.
"Fine looking saddle," Hedges remarked. "Don't see many cowhands riding a rig that good."
"I won it in a shooting match." Gabe let it slip back into the crate, touching the intricate craving in the thick leather again. He'd been the envy of every cowhand in the territory. Every one of them had tried to buy or trade for it. The last time Gabe had seen it, it was still on his horse, and the horse was lying dead in the street. He hadn't been surprised when they'd told him his gear had been stolen.
When Gabe woke up in the hospital, his worldly belongings consisted of his side arm and belt and the loose things that had been in his pockets. Not much for a twenty-seven year old man to show for a lifetime of living and working. They'd cut his clothes off him and thrown them away. His boots had disappeared somewhere. The charity he'd been forced to accept hadn't left him much of a choice in ill-fitting and well-worn clothes and shoes. When he'd asked about the bill, they told him it'd been paid, but they wouldn't tell him who had done it. He'd had to take charity, not having anything left, and it still galled him just to think about it.
"Did Ollie Morgan pay the hospital bill?" he asked, thinking that now maybe he could start paying back a few debts.
"No, Ollie took up money from the farmers for it. The ranchers were the ones that got you that ticket and had the mayor take it to you."
All to get rid of him, Gabe thought with a bittersweet smile. "It's funny. I rode a lot of trail in that saddle with men I called friends. A man I hardly knew turned out to be the truest. Guess I was wrong about them others."
"Don't be too quick about that, Gabe. Ollie had help finding that saddle."
That made his throat feel thick again. "Who had it?"
"I don't know. You wouldn't do nothing foolish like going after him, would you?"
"No," Gabe said, standing up again. "It's over and done with. Nothing I can do will change it."
Hedges sighed with relief. "You had a lot of friends there, Gabe. Time will come when you'll cross trails with them again."
Bitterness welled up then. Gabe'd been hurt in way more than bullet holes that night in Crystal Creek Bluffs.
"Them boys you run with were still gone with that drive you went out on," Hedges told him. "If they'd been there, they'd been backing you, and you wouldn't have been left lying out there in that street."
"Maybe, Hedges, but a thing like that changes people, makes them go all queer in the head. People I thought I could trust, they…" Gabe's voice trailed off, and he ended in a slight shrug. "Might have been more killings had the boys been there. Maybe better they weren't." He gave a wry grin. "They didn't have to take no sides that way."
"You heard from them at all?"
"Nope."
"I'd bet my last dollar, if any of them boys you called friends heard you were in trouble, they'd come running."
"Maybe," Gabe said with a faint smile. There'd been a time or two he'd had help from that bunch. Many a saloon had been shattered inside and out as a result. Good times, good memories, but none of those men or any others he rode with had ever paid him a visit in the pest hole hospital he'd been hauled off to for recovery.
That had been the part that hurt the most when that night was over. The ranch owners' treachery he could accept. They were a class apart from him, a hired hand, but to think that those he rode with had turned against him, well, that had been the hardest thing to swallow.
"I want to thank Ollie somehow, Hedges."
"You might write him, boy. It'd give him joy to know you're all right. More than thanks enough."
"I'm not much of a hand at writing, but I'll give it my best." He looked back at the saddle. "One of the things I came in for today was
a saddle. I bought a horse from the Rocking M. I'd be obliged to you if you'd walk back to the store with me and keep Burns talking. Now that I don't have to buy a saddle, I'm going to get the boots I thought I'd wait on. I'd like to have the time to try them on without him harping on me."
Gabe slapped Hedges on the back, just because he felt good. He didn't even get embarrassed when Mrs. Jones stopped them on the walk to hand over a package to him. Then the woman started talking, and the good feeling went away. First came an inkling something had happened that he didn't know about and then apprehension while he listened to her.
"I'm so glad you're taking them, Mr. Taylor."
"Danny can use them, ma'am. He seems to be too wide and long for what he's got."
"And probably precious little of that, no doubt. Any woman that would do that to her own child certainly wouldn't take care in clothing him. Imagine a woman trying to ruin a man because—well, some things are better not spoken of. We were certainly glad to see the last of her kind in this town."
"So was he," Hedges said.
Just as well Hedges answered since Gabe didn't have an answer or comment to offer.
"Of course, he was. That poor little tyke. Is he with you today, Mr. Taylor? We could try the things on him."
"No, ma'am." He added, to head off what was bound to be her next question, "Sally is watching him for me."
"Oh," she said with interest. "If you see Little Sam often you could take a blouse I just finished out to her."
"I don't see her much. Sally comes over during the day. I could take it that far, and Sally could take it on over to her."
"Oh, there's no hurry. I should wait, really, until she comes in. It may need a little fitting. Do you know when that might be?"
"No, ma'am," Gabe said with his insides tying in a knot. "Do you want me to give Sally a message for her?"
"You could have her mention it. It really isn't that important."
"What we got to be doing is," Hedges said rudely as he jerked Gabe by the arm. Gabe thanked her for the clothes as he allowed Hedges to pull him away, grateful for once to the old man for interfering.
He was glad to get away from the woman, but worried about what she'd said. "What did she start to say?" he asked Hedges when it was safe to talk.
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