Dead Trouble (11 page)

Doc was just lighting his pipe, covering the bowl with the vesta box to make it draw. He looked up slowly, puzzled, as smoke wreathed around his head.

‘What would you expect me to do for Durango?’

‘Well, I’ve said for years you’re one helluva fine doctor, and you try to keep up with the latest medical methods. Why can’t you operate on Durango?’

Lansing was really frowning now, allowing his pipe to go out as he stared at Deke Cutler. ‘Now why would I
want to operate on Durango?’

‘Well, I guess you don’t, but surely it’s worth a try, even if it’s only to see just how bad the cancer is.’

Randy Lansing stiffened and stood slowly.

‘Cancer? Deke, what the
hell
are you talking about?’

Cutler’s belly was knotted tightly now and he felt the stinging behind his eyes that always came when he had to face danger – or hear something he knew in advance he wasn’t going to like.

‘Durango’s dying of cancer. You told him he has only six months to live at most,’ he said slowly, quietly, and very distinctly.

Lansing held his gaze rock-steady.

‘Deke, I haven’t seen Durango in almost a year. I know nothing about any cancer, or, in fact, anything at all about his present state of health. But the last time I saw him, he was fitter than you or me. And I’d be surprised if he died this side of seventy – or even later.’

It was the middle of the morning when Deke Cutler rode the weary grey into the Shoestring ranchyard. Karen was on the porch; she jumped up out of her cane chair when she saw him and ran down towards the corrals.

He was unsaddling when she came up, looking anxious.

‘Oh, Deke! Where’ve you been? We’ve been worried about you. Jimmy told us that tall black man of Dutch Pete’s took you off somewhere and we sent men out looking when you hadn’t come in by dark. They found a dead bear with a spear in it and …’

He took her by the shoulders, looking down into her face, smiling faintly.

‘Take it easy. I’m all right. Dutch Pete killed the bear …’

‘Yes, we surmised that. But the men said there was – blood everywhere …’

‘Mostly the bear’s, but considerable belonging to Pete and Sam.’ Deke glanced up when Durango came across from the barn where he had apparently been working with a wood plane for curled shavings were adhering to his trousers. He looked pretty grim.

‘The hell’ve you been, Deke?’ He sounded as annoyed as he looked. ‘I’ve had men out on the river half the damn night looking for you.’

‘I could use a cup of coffee,’ Cutler said, nodding towards the house. ‘I’ll tell you all about it then, OK?’

‘Of course,’ Karen said, turning and starting away. ‘You get washed up and I’ll make you a meal.’

‘Just coffee thanks. I’ve eaten.’

Durango waited until she was entering the house, then asked:

‘Where’d you eat in that country?’

‘Not there. In town. I had to get Pete and that Samburu to a medic. Borrowed a couple of horses from Dutch Pete’s spread and made two travois.’

They started slowly towards the house. If Spain thought Deke was lying he hid it pretty well.

‘Lots of tracks up around that bear, Deke. Shod horses. More than the three which would’ve been your grey and the two horses you borrowed.’

‘Some of Pete’s men rode back with me.’

Durango nodded thoughfully.

‘OK. How come you went with Pete’s man when you was s’posed to be helping Jimmy Taggart with the mustangs?’

‘They were corralled. Jimmy aimed to let ’em settle overnight before he started in to break ’em.’

They were at the washbench now and Deke propped
his battered rifle against it, stripped to the waist and pumped water into a tin bowl. As he washed, Durango casually examined the rifle. When he picked it up, Deke’s shirt fell off the bench, caught briefly in the foresight. Durango stooped for it and something that glittered fell out of the pocket. He retrieved it and slowly stood as Deke shook water from his hair and, eyes closed, groped for the rag of towel hanging on a nail. Durango let him grope, studied the .45/.70 calibre cartridge, hefting it, turning it this way and that, lips pursed thoughtfully. He started to speak, then changed his mind and dropped the cartridge into his pocket as Deke located the towel and wiped water from his eyes, opened them and blinked.

He nodded to the torn, filthy, blood-spattered shirt in Durango’s hand.

‘Got a shirt I can borrow? I tore up my spares to bandage Pete and Sam.’

‘Yeah. There’ll be one inside. Let’s go get that coffee and hear your story.’

Cutler made it brief, not mentioning the army patrol or Doc Lansing – or that he had ridden back to the fort with Lieutenant Craig to see Captain Bannister before returning to Shoestring.

‘They’re both in the Wichita Falls infirmary now. Pete will make it OK but I’m not sure about the Samburu.’

‘He must be very … loyal,’ Karen opined. ‘I mean, to throw himself between a crazy bear and Pete van Rensberg. It’s more than loyalty, isn’t it? It’s – love, I suppose.’

‘They grew up together in Kenya, so Pete said. If you
can use “love” for how one man feels about another, I guess that’s what it must be.’

Spain snorted, set down his coffee cup.

‘Well, I’d appreciate your getting word back to me if anything else like that happens, Deke. Can’t have the men wasting time looking for you when you’re OK.’

‘There was no time to let you know, Durango,’ Deke told him soberly, watching the man’s face. ‘And I doubt there’ll ever be another occasion like that one. Unless you know someone else who’s crazy enough to want to fight a bear hand-to-hand…?’

Spain smiled crookedly.

‘Reckon they’re few and far between. OK, well, you want to go back out and help Jimmy with the mustangs? Jno’s with him but I’ve got another job I’d rather put him on.’

Karen looked sharply at her husband and then at Cutler.

‘Deke looks all done-in, Durango …’

Spain arched his eyebrows.

‘Yeah? You want to take a rest, pard?’ There was a slight emphasis on the ‘pard’ and Deke knew Spain was reminding him he was supposed to be a working
partner
.

‘I’ll go help Jimmy.’

‘Send Jno back. Tell him I’ve got an urgent job for him.’

‘Maybe I could do it, save the time riding out to where Jimmy is and—’

‘No. I want Jno for this. Just send him in.’

Durango walked out into the yard. Deke finished his coffee and rose to his feet, Karen’s eye on him.

‘Good coffee, Karen. Thanks.’

‘Deke. Is there something … wrong between you and Durango? You both seem … strained, and with more meaning when you speak to each other than is apparent to an outsider.’

Cutler shrugged.

‘I’m tired and it was no fun helping Randy Lansing sew up Pete and Sam …’

Her eyes widened.

‘You …
helped
?’

‘It had to be done quickly. They’d both lost heaps of blood.’ He moved his gaze away from her face and she frowned slightly. ‘I’d better be getting back to young Jimmy.’

She watched him go, thoughtfully, somehow
disappointed
but she wasn’t quite sure why. She was still frowning when she waved him off ten minutes later as he rode out on a chestnut mare.

Big Jno was leaning on the rails, watching Taggart work one of the mustangs when Deke rode in and dismounted. He turned his head slowly, looking at the tall Texan over his left shoulder. Then he turned back to watch Taggart without speaking.

‘Durango wants you back at the ranch.’

Jno grunted, not moving.

‘He says it’s urgent.’

‘Yeah?’ Jno still didn’t look at him.

Deke hesitated, then said; ‘Well, you can explain to him when you finally decide to amble in.’

‘I’ll do that.’ Jno turned to look at him now, leaning back against the rails. Jimmy had seen him, too, left the
horse he was working tethered to the snubbing post in the clearing, a sack across its eyes. It stood there, quivering.

Deke stiffened.

‘What happened to your face?’ he asked Jimmy.

Taggart touched his puffy, bruised eyes and the two deep cuts to his mouth. He glanced at Jno.

‘Hoss threw him and he kissed the ground,’ the big man said. ‘Well, I better be goin’, I guess.’

As the man roughly shouldered past, Deke grabbed him by a thick arm, swinging him around and pushing him back against the rails. Jimmy gasped.

‘Deke. It’s all right! It … happened like Jno said.’

Cutler didn’t take his eyes off Jno.

‘I recognize fist marks when I see them. You been beating-up on Jimmy. Why?’

‘You reckon you know fist marks, huh? See if you recognize this one!’

It came fast and unexpectedly low. Deke gagged and stepped back fast, one leg wobbling, as his breath was cut. Jimmy yelled and tried to hold Jno back but the big man swung an arm and sent the kid rolling in the dust. He planted his thick legs wide and knocked Deke’s hat off, twisting his fingers in the long hair. He bared his teeth in a sneer as he almost lazily yanked Deke’s head up and drove a punch into his face. Deke, still fighting for a breath, managed to turn his head slightly and the blow skidded along his jaw. But he saw a Fourth of July in the bright mountain sunshine and his ears rang.

Jno swore because his blow hadn’t landed squarely and drew his arm back for a second try. Deke brought a hand up into his crotch and twisted savagely. Jno made
a sick yelping, half-retching sound and his legs sagged as he doubled over, releasing Deke. Cutler lifted a knee into his face, held him there, gave him another knee in the same place. He felt nose cartilage crunch and blood sprayed over his trousers. Jno stumbled into the rails and Deke went after him, arms hammering like pistons, working over the man’s sweaty body from waistline to throat.

Jno dropped to his knees, head lolling on his
shoulders
, face bloody, nose mashed back twice as wide as originally. His eyes were crossed and Deke took a
handful
of the greasy black curls and smashed his forehead into the rails. Jno groaned and flopped down, one arm hooking through the bottom rail, all that stopped him from falling completely.

Breathing hard, shaking his right hand because it hurt after connecting with Jno’s jaw so many times, Cutler looked at Jimmy and wiped some blood and sweat off his face.

‘Why’d – he – beat – you – kid?’

Jimmy swallowed, obviously glad to see Jno beaten but, at the same time, a little afraid – no doubt
wondering
how the bully would exact his vengeance upon him when Deke wasn’t around.

‘He – he wanted to know if it looked like you’d arranged for that skinny black man to come get you and take you to see Dutch Pete. I told him I din’ know but he kept at me, in the end …’ he licked his split lips, ‘I – told him you – you’d said you might be meetin’
someone
. I’m sorry, Deke, but I thought he was gonna – kill me.’

Deke touched the boy’s shoulder. ‘It’s OK, Jimmy –
no harm done. Now, we’d better get to that bronc you’ve got tied to the snubbing post before he pulls it out of the ground.’

‘What about – him?’ Jimmy gestured to the barely stirring Jno.

‘He’ll ride out when he comes round.’

Deke leaned down, took Jno’s six-gun and then went to the battered man’s horse and removed the rifle from the saddle scabbard. He and Jimmy helped Jno, still punchy, dazed, into his saddle and Deke led the horse out of the draw, slapped his hat across its rump and set it on the trail back to Shoestring headquarters, Jno swaying as if drunk.

Spain had no sympathy for Jno as the man washed up at the bench and had Ringo, recovering from his earlier gunshot wound, set his nose. It was rough and painful and Jno yelled and cussed-out Ringo so bad the man simply said: ‘Do the damn thing yourself!’ and walked back into the bunkhouse.

Spain stared coldly at Jno as he held his mashed nose gently, moaning, but getting so sign of compassion.

‘You were a fool to beat the kid. He’s dumb, does what he’s told, but he doesn’t know anything more than what I want him to.’

‘He said Cutler was lookin’ to meet someone.’

‘Aah. After ten minutes of you beating on him, he’d say anything.’ Spain glanced around, making sure none of the other hands was near, and took the big cartridge from his pocket. ‘Found this in Deke’s shirt.’

Jno looked up sharply and winced because of it. ‘Hell, that’s army! Trapdoor Springfield.’

Spain nodded.

‘You seen any sign of army patrols lately?’

‘Hell no! I’d’ve told you right away, Durango. But – all them hoofmarks I found near the dead bear …’

‘He says it was men from the Assegai spread.’

Jno thought about it.

‘Mebbe – but come to think of it, the boot marks’d be more like army than cowhands.’

Durango Spain’s mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed. ‘Goddamn! I suspected Deke right from the word go. Aw, he’d been bad-hurt, no question, but there was just … something … Hell, I taught him all he knows.’ He laughed shortly. ‘Christ, I hammered it into him how a Ranger was s’posed to act, where his loyalties lay, that he
never
stopped being a Ranger, even after he left the Service.’

‘Got yourself to blame then,’ Jno grated with a certain amount of satisfaction, although he cringed slightly at the look Spain threw in his direction.

‘I like Deke. Man always has a soft spot for his protégé, I guess – but … The time’s come to haul rein right now. Can’t afford any loose ends at this stage.’ He smiled thinly at the battered, unhappy man before him. ‘Jno, I think I need you to do a special job for me. Worth an extra fifty?’

Although it hurt like hell, Jno smiled.

‘You bet!’

Jimmy Taggart was a good bronc-buster. He had patience which was the key to the whole thing, but apart from that there seemed to be a definite affinity with horses. No, not just horses, with
animals
in general.

There were squirrels and lizards and several birds scavenging around their camp and Jimmy always had some titbits ready when they appeared. In no time at all, he had these dwellers of the woods taking food out of his hands, sitting within a yard of him and eating it, waiting for more.

With the horses, well, they gave him quite a few wild buckjumps and sunfishing, biting, rolls, and lots of snorting and straight-legging that made Cutler wince just watching: he could
feel
the jolt clear through his spine and up into his skull even while he was sitting on the rails, smoking, and Jimmy was being hurled to hell and back.

But the kid didn’t seem to mind. He was weary and aching and a couple of times, after being sent flying out of the saddle, he was hurt, limping around some, but he was philosophical about it.

‘Goes with the job,’ he said, holding a dirty cloth to a bleeding nose, his teeth chipped. ‘They don’t aim to hurt me – just make a game out of it.’

So Cutler came to admire the youngster and over supper he asked quietly:

‘Jimmy, while you’ve been searching for mustangs – you notice anything out of the ordinary around the hills? This side of the river or over in the Nations. I take it you go across sometimes?’

Jimmy Taggart looked a mite uncomfortable.

‘Sure. But usually I have Jno or Hal with me. They leave me to look for mustangs while they go off
somewhere
. Hey! You know the word mustang comes fom the Spanish
mestero
? Meaning ‘stray’ …’