“They had been for some time, but Mary Ella told me that she and her brother had recently made up.”
“I wonder why he didn’t come to the funeral.”
“I don’t think anybody knew about him but me, and in all the confusion I forgot to get in touch with him.”
“Do you know how to contact him?”
“I think so. Mary Ella said he was a dispatcher for the Missouri Pacific Railroad in St. Louis. It shouldn’t be that difficult to find him.”
“I think it might be a good idea to send him a telegram. There has to be some way to overturn that tax lien, and I know that Jim had no living relatives so, by rights, the Circle Dot should belong to Mary Ella’s brother.”
* * *
The very next day Matt was in the sheriff’s office when Kenny Kern came in. Fourteen years old, he was a delivery boy for Western Union. “This here telegram is for you, Sheriff.”
“Thanks, Kenny,” Matt said, giving the boy half a dollar.
Kenny smiled happily. “Thanks! Most of the time I’d have to deliver ten telegrams to get this much.”
“Wait. I might need to send a return telegram.”
“All right.”
Matt read the telegram.
WILL ARRIVE BITTER CREEK AT ONE
O’CLOCK WEDNESDAY STOP CAN I BE
MET STOP
GABE SHORT
Matt penned a quick response. You will be met by Matt Jensen. “Send this.” He gave Kenny the message and another dollar to send it.
* * *
Two days later Matt was on the depot platform when the train arrived at Bitter Creek. It wasn’t difficult to pick out the man he was to meet as only one passenger, a relatively short, thin man with glasses, left the train.
“Mr. Short?” he asked, approaching him.
“Yes, are you Matt Jensen?”
“I am. I brought a buckboard. As soon as we get your luggage we’d better get started. We won’t get there until tomorrow afternoon.”
During the long drive back, Matt filled Gabe in on the situation, explaining the circumstances of the deaths of Jim and Mary Ella as well as the claim being made by Kennedy and O’Neil that they now owned the Circle Dot.
“By rights that ranch belongs to you,” Matt said. “And Hugh Conway and his wife, who were very good friends to Jim and your sister, think you should fight for it.”
“Oh, by fighting, I certainly hope you don’t mean anything physical,” Gabe said.
“It may come to that,” Matt said. “But if it does, you’ll have friends. In the meantime, you’ll be staying with the Conways. That’s where we’re going now.”
* * *
The day following Gabe Short’s arrival, Hugh decided to take a ride around his ranch. It had become his practice to circumnavigate his ranch at least twice a day—to check the location of all his horses, and more important to check the status of the fence line. As long as fence integrity was maintained, there was little danger of any of his stock wandering off or being stolen. Happily, there had been no depredation of his horses since Matt Jensen had arrived.
He didn’t plan to stay out too long. Before he left the house, he had smelled an apple pie being baked. Lisa was an excellent cook and baker, and as he thought about it, he realized the pie would already be done. He knew that she had probably planned it for lunch, but he also knew that if he was persuasive enough he would be able to talk her into a piece of pie, maybe with some cheese melted on top, and a cup of coffee as a midmorning snack.
And he knew he could be persuasive enough.
So far his ride had been uneventful, but then, to his surprise, he saw a gathering of about ten cows standing in a bunch.
“Now where in the world did you critters come from?” he asked aloud as he rode over to check them out. “Circle Dot,” he said when he saw the brand.
Before his fence had been put up, it hadn’t been too unusual to see Circle Dot cows on his land from time to time, as his ranch and the Circle Dot were contiguous. Seeing them again meant that there must be a break in the fence.
Hugh started back toward the bunkhouse to have Ed, LeRoy, and Jake come find the break in the fence and push the cows back onto the Circle Dot. As Kennedy and O’Neil were claiming ownership of the Circle Dot, he would just as soon not get into any trouble with them.
He felt a blow to his back.
* * *
“Who do you think that is that we just shot?” Toone asked.
“More ’n likely one o’ Conway’s hands,” Greene said.
“Yeah? Well I hope it’s Ed Sanders,” Toone said. “I ain’t forgot that he give the two of us a lickin’ some weeks back.” Subconsciously, he rubbed his chin.
“Wait. One man whupped the both of you?” Lem Mason asked, surprised by the revelation. His brother was on another errand.
“Yeah well, he would have never done it iffen Jensen hadn’t held a gun on us while he was a-doin’ it,” Greene added quickly.
“Hey, maybe it was Jensen we just shot,” Mason suggested. “They say he rides around out here to keep Conway’s horses from bein’ stoled. ’N after him killin’ Carter, it would be good if it was. Why don’t we go check?”
“We done what we was supposed to do. Looks to me like whoever it is, he’s dead, ’n if he ain’t, he soon will be. Let’s get out of here.”
“But how will we ever find out iffen this is Jensen or not?” Mason asked.
“Ain’t no need to be a-worryin’ none about it. If this here is Jensen we just kilt, we’ll find out about it soon enough,” Greene said. “Right now seems to me like the best thing we can do is just go back ’n tell DuPont that we got the cows put on Conway’s ranch like he told us.”
* * *
Lisa had fried a chicken for lunch. She also had made mashed potatoes and was going to have gravy, but she didn’t want to start the gravy until Hugh came home. She didn’t want it to get cold. She had everything ready but the gravy, so she decided to wait in the swing on the front porch. That way she could see him coming and get the gravy started so that it would be done just as he walked into the house.
As she waited, she could hear Sanders, Patterson, and Haverkost from the barn.
“Now what horse with any sense of pride would even get into that stall?” Sanders asked. “Hell, Jake, ain’t you ever painted nothin’ before? That’s awful.”
“Yes, sir, I reckon it is. But you’re right. I ain’t never painted nothin’ before.”
“You ain’t?” Sanders asked. “What about you, LeRoy? You ever painted anything?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve painted before.”
“Good. See what you can do to clean up the mess Haverkost has made.”
Lisa chuckled at the interplay of dialogue, then she saw Hugh’s horse returning. The saddle was empty.
“Mr. Sanders!” she screamed in fear and dread.
“Yes, ma’am?” Sanders hurried out of the barn. Patterson and Haverkost were with him.
“There’s Hugh’s horse! The saddle’s empty!”
“We’ll check it out,” Sanders promised.
The three men saddled quickly, then rode out to where they knew Hugh had gone earlier.
The first thing they saw was a black lump on the ground. Although he was still too far away to make out any actual details, Sanders knew it was Hugh Conway. The men urged their horses into a gallop and quickly covered the rest of the distance. Arriving at the scene, they swung down and hurried over to the still form.
At first, given the way he was lying on the ground, Sanders thought that he might be dead, but as he knelt beside him, he could hear him breathing. “Mr. Conway! Mr. Conway!” Sanders began patting Hugh on the cheek. “Mr. Conway, are you all right? Are you all right?”
Hugh’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Sanders with a confused expression on his face. “Why are you asking me if I’m all right?”
“Because you are lying on your back in the dirt.”
“I am?”
“Yes, sir, you are. What happened?”
“I . . . I don’t know. The last thing I remember is starting back home.”
“Can you get up?”
“I suppose I can.”
Hugh lay on the ground for a moment with the changing expression on his face providing the only indication that he was trying, without success, to do something. “Ed,” he said in a strained voice. “I don’t seem to be able to move my legs.”
* * *
“We got ’im, Mr. DuPont. We got Jensen!” John Mason said excitedly when he, Greene, and Toone returned to Purgatory Pass.
“We killed his ass,” Toone said.
“Killed the rest of ’im too,” Greene added with a laugh.
“Good job, men!” DuPont said with a pleased smile. “We’ll have to have a little celebration.”
When Luke McCoy and Lem Mason rode into Purgatory Pass about an hour later, the celebration was well underway with a lot of drinks and laughter.
“Lem, you ’n Luke come grab a drink and join the celebratin’!” John Mason called.
“What is it you’re celebratin’?” Lem asked.
“Yeah, that’s right. You ain’t heard yet, have you, brother? Matt Jensen is dead. Me ’n Toone ’n Greene kilt him,” John said.
“Jensen is dead? When did that happen?” McCoy asked.
“This morning,” John said.
“Are you saying that you killed Matt Jensen this morning?” Lem asked.
John frowned at his brother. “You don’t seem to listen all that good, do you? Yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’.”
Lem shook his head. “No, you didn’t, little brother. If you kilt someone this morning, it wasn’t Matt Jensen.”
“How the hell do you know?” Greene demanded, the tone of his voice showing his anger.
“On account of me ’n Luke just seen ’im in Rongis no more ’n a hour ago,” McCoy said. “And he looked pretty healthy for someone who got hisself kilt this mornin’.”
“Damn, I wonder who it was that we kilt?” Toone asked.
* * *
“Mr. Conway’s been shot!” Sanders said, barging into the sheriff’s office.
“Killed?” Matt asked anxiously.
“No, he ain’t dead, but he’s bad hurt.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s home. I done got the doctor ’n he’s on the way out there, but Miz Conway told me to be sure ’n get you, too.”
“Let’s go,” Matt said, grabbing his hat as he stood.
Chapter Thirty-three
Spur and Latigo Ranch
“I shouldn’t have come here,” Gabe said to the others as they waited outside for the doctor to examine Hugh. “This is all my fault.”
“What do you mean it’s all your fault?” Ed Sanders asked.
“Those awful men who stole my sister’s ranch want to get rid of me. So they shot the man who is giving me a place to stay.”
“Mr. Short, I’ve no doubt that when they learn about you, they will want to get rid of you,” Matt said, “but so far there are only a few people who actually know that you are here.”
“Oh, I do hope you are right. I don’t want to be an imposition on Mr. and Mrs. Conway, especially since they have been so nice to me.”
“Don’t be foolish, Mr. Short. You’re not an imposition,” Lisa said, the anxiousness over Hugh showing in her voice.
“Here’s the doc,” Ed said as the doctor came into the room.
“He’s paralyzed from the waist down,” Dr. Bosch reported.
“Oh, no!” Lisa cried, and she leaned into Matt, who, almost involuntarily, put his right arm around her.
“Is it a permanent condition?” Matt asked.
“It’s too early to say,” Dr. Bosch replied. “Fortunately the bullet didn’t sever the spine. If it had, the paralysis would definitely be permanent. As it is, the bullet is putting pressure on the spine, and that’s shut everything down. He won’t be able to move his legs; he won’t even be able to feel them.”
“You’re saying that the bullet is still in there?” Matt asked.
“Yes.”
“If you took the bullet out, would that relieve the pressure on his spine?”
“I think it would, if I can get it out,” Dr. Bosch said. “But the problem is the bullet is pretty deep. If I go probing round in there and don’t get the bullet out, I could wind up making it even worse.”
“Worse how?”
“I might sever some nerve endings that would paralyze him for the rest of his life, or even worse, I might bring on some infection that could kill him.”
“But if you don’t get the bullet out, the pressure is going to keep him paralyzed for good, too, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“If you try and succeed, he might regain feeling and movement. If you try and fail, he will be permanently paralyzed, and could even be killed?” Matt asked.
“Yes, that’s true.”
“You’re right. That’s not an easy choice to make.”
“Only one person can make that choice, and right now he is in a deep and medicated sleep.”
“Lisa is his wife. Can’t she make the decision for him?”
“Yes, I suppose she could do that,” Dr. Bosch said. “Mrs. Conway?”
“You said he could die during the operation?” Lisa asked hesitantly.
“I think the risk of him dying is not that that great, but yes. Mrs. Conway, I won’t lie to you. If something went badly wrong, he could die.”
Lisa shook her head. “Then, I’m not going to ask you to do it. For something like this, I think Hugh should decide for himself.”
“Let me ask you this, Doctor,” Matt said. “If you don’t do anything now, will it get even harder for you to do something in the future?”
“If we wait too long, yes, it could. Scar tissue could grow around the bullet, making it much harder and much more dangerous to do anything.”
“Oh!” Lisa said. “I hadn’t thought of that. How long before anything like that would happen?”
“Two or three weeks,” Dr. Bosch answered. “A month at the longest. Any time after a month, I would be afraid to try it.”
“Thank you,” Lisa said. “I’m inclined to say go ahead and try to get the bullet now, but I do want Hugh to have some say in what happens. It is his life.”
“Yes, ma’am, I understand.” Dr. Bosch went over to pick up his medicine bag. “You and your husband talk it over, and once you make up your mind, left me know.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
With a farewell nod to all who were present, Dr. Bosch left the house, and a moment later, they heard his buggy drive away.
“Miz Conway, me ’n the other boys got some things we need to get done,” Sanders said. “If they’s anythin’ you want done, anythin’ at all, just let me know ’n I’ll see that it’s took care of.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sanders. I appreciate that,” Lisa replied in a quiet voice.
“Yes, I was in the process of cleaning the bunkhouse, so I had better go, as well,” Gabe said.
Matt remained behind.
“Oh, Matt, what will I do? I can’t make a decision for him,” Lisa said and she went to him.
Matt put his arms around her and held her close, feeling her sobbing against his chest. He had no answer for her. The only comfort he could provide was to pull her to him. He could feel her body pressed against him and smell the scent in her hair. It was unsavory and pleasing at the same time.
“Lisa?” Hugh’s voice, thin and strained, came from the bedroom.
“Oh, he’s awake!” Lisa pulled away from Matt’s arms and hurried into the bedroom.
Matt followed her.
“Hugh, oh, darling, you’re awake!” Lisa said, stepping over to his bed.
“Was the doctor here?” Hugh asked.
“Yes.”
“To see me?”
“Yes.”
“Why? What happened to me? Why am I lying here like t
his?”
“You . . . you don’t know?” Lisa asked, surprised by Hugh’s question. She glanced over at Matt.
“You were shot, Hugh,” Lisa said. “Do you not remember anything about it?”
Hugh shook his head. “No. The last thing I remember is riding out to check on the fence line. Listen, I can’t stay in bed in the middle of the day. I’ve got work to do. Hand me my clothes, will you, Lisa? I’m going to get up now.”
Lisa, shocked by the request, didn’t respond. She just stared at him.
“Where are my clothes? I’m going to—” Hugh stopped in midsentence and got an expression on his face that turned from confusion to concern. “I can’t seem to move my legs. Why can’t I move my legs?”
“Hugh, don’t you remember? You are paralyzed from the waist down,” Lisa said.
Hugh’s look of concern turned to one of dismay. “I’m paralyzed?”
“Yes, darling.”
He was silent for a long time, then he looked up at Matt. “Did you say I was shot?”
“Yes.”
“Who did it? Who shot me?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Matt replied.
“The cows!”
“What cows?”
“I found several Circle Dot cows on my land. I had just started back to have Ed and the others—” Hugh paused in midsentence again. “That’s when I was shot. I remember now. I felt a blow in my back. The next thing I knew Ed was talking to me. I . . . I don’t have any idea how I got here.”
“Mr. Sanders and the others put you in the back of the buckboard and brought you here,” Lisa said.
“Hugh, are those cows still on your land?” Matt asked.
“As far as I know they are. I didn’t get a chance to tell anyone else about them.”
“Seeing as the Circle Dot belongs to Kennedy and O’Neil now, it might be a good idea to get them out of there,” Matt suggested.
“Yes, I was thinking the same thing.”
“Ed and I will take care of it.”
Straight Arrow Ranch
“Wait here,” Boggs said.
“What do you mean, wait here?” DuPont asked angrily. “I’ve never had to wait to see Kennedy or O’Neil before.”
Die with the Outlaws Page 23