It's Your Misfortune and None of My Own (Code of the West) (10 page)

“You ride east, over that draw in the distance . . . and don’t waste a second thought about coming back.” Andrews clutched the rifle to his shoulder.

“Oh, we’ll be back, mister, and you’ll wish your mama never gave you birth.”

The explosion from Brannon’s rifle dropped a swayed-back blue roan from the remuda of horses. The other four bolted to the east ahead of the riders.

“You killed another horse,” the fat man shouted.

The back of Tap's neck flushed with anger. “Don’t you ever, ever bring my mama, rest her soul, into the conversation.”

“We’ll be back—”

“Boys, I already figure you for not bein’ the smartest in the world. But that’s tolerable because this country has many a man who isn’t too bright. But if any of you ever come on this ranch again, you will prove beyond all shadow of doubt that you are the stupidest men in the world. You boys have seen these peep sights, haven’t ya? It means I can bring you down at a thousand yards. Now you remember that next time you get within 999 yards of this place.”

“Jordan Beckett will hear about this,” the man growled as he turned to ride off.

“Tell him the Triple Creek Ranch is off-limits and that he really ought to hire some men with a few brains. Now just in case you were wonderin’, fat man, my peep sight will be aimed at the back of your head all the way up that incline. And at any point if I happen to get a little restless, you’ll be facing the judgment seat before the sun goes down.”

A black-vested man turned his horse around and growled, “I ain’t goin’ to take any more of this.” And he started to pull his gun.

“Texas, don’t,” the fat man screamed. “We cain’t lose any more horses.” Texas removed his hand from the gun.

Tap watched through the peep sight of the rifle as the men rode up the hill and disappeared. F
inally, he lowered his gun folded back the tang sight, and walked back toward the house. Pushing his hat to the back of his head, he looked up at the wagon still a mile from the ranch buildings.

Tap, I’m not sure you looked like a God-fearin’ Zachariah Hatcher. You can’t go through life wantin’ to shoot every man who comes against you. You’ve got to do better than that. If you’re going’ to try to be Hatcher, you’ve got to think like him, act like him, talk like him. Slow it down, Tap. Keep out of tro
uble.

Leading Brownie to the barn, he pulled off the saddle and turned the horse out into the corral. He tossed his saddlebag over his shoulder, picked up the Winchester, and walked back to the house, stopping in front of the barn to pick up three brass .44 casings and shove them into his pocket.

“Hatcher,” Bob McCurley called as they drove into the yard. “Are you all right?”

Tap noticed that McCurley had a shotgun across his lap now. “Yep. Just a little misu
nderstandin’, that’s all.”

“Misunderstanding?” Pepper gasped.

“The way I seen it, you shot two of them and two horses and chased the whole bunch out,” McCurley reported.

“One of ’em shot another one in the leg, but the rest of the story stands.”

“My heavens,” Mrs. McCurley exclaimed, “who were they?”

“The best that I could figure it, they were some gang of ou
tlaws who have been usin’ this place for a relay of horses. I told them to leave—”

“Relay horses?” Pepper interrupted. “I don’t understand.”

“A gang will rob a bank or a stage or a train and then hit the trail to escape. Naturally, a posse will set out after them, but the robbers stash a relay team or two of horses along their trail so they can always have fresh mounts. That way no posse will ever catch them.”

Pepper tilted her head and quizzed, “How do you know so much about this sort of thing?”

“Because . . . it happens all the time.”

“Really? You mean, men ridin’ into your ranch and you havin’ a shoo
tout happens often?”

“No. It happens fairly often in other places where I’ve been. I didn’t know there was anything close enough worth stealin’ around here. I wouldn’t think it was very common here.
 . . eh, is it McCurley?”

“We ain’t never had a bit of trouble down our way, no, miss. And don’t you worry none, Miss Pepper. This here Hatcher just handled himself about as slick with a gun as any man I’ve seen, and believe me, I’ve seen some good ones.”

Oh, brother, I blew it now. There’s no way some timid lady from the East will want to live in this place. What would Hatcher do now?

“To tell you the truth, I kind of surprised myself,” Tap b
egan. “I’m not always so quick-tempered, but after all this time of waitin’ for Miss Cedar, and what with finally getting the ranch, I guess it drove me to be a little aggressive in protectin’ things. The good Lord must have been watchin’ over me.”

I surely hope that convinces her.

“It answered any question I had about what we do when trouble comes. Will they be comin’ back?”

“I don’t think so. There’s no gain for them. They’ll just stake those ponies in another ca
nyon or draw. Now, Bob, if you’ll turn your team out and pull down some hay, I’ll start that coffee boilin’ and give the ladies a tour of the house.”

Tap helped Mrs. McCurley down from the buggy. He n
oticed that her hands were tough and callused like the hard land she had lived in for years. Then he turned to Pepper and assisted her to the ground.

Tough and tender. Soft, yet strong. She hasn’t worked with those Kentucky horses too much, yet I bet she could drag you around by the ear without straining.

“Ladies, this won’t take long,” he announced. “This is the front porch, which just happens to afford a nice view of the settin’ sun if you perch down there at the far end.” Tap swung open the door to the big front room. “Now this is the living room, parlor, dining room, and just about anything-else-you-want-to-do-in-it room.”

“Oh my, it’s so huge, Mr. Hatcher,” Mrs. McCurley e
xclaimed. “Why, you could open a stage stop with a room like this. And the fireplace, the rock work is very well done. What do you think, Pepper?”

What do I think? I’ve worked in dance halls smaller than this. It’s wonderful.

“Eh, it’s very nice. Could use a little more furniture, I believe,” she commented.

“You’re right about that, Pepper. Maybe you and Mrs. McCurley could make a list of items needed. Some of ’em I can make, and others we’ll try to buy.”

Then he led them to the right hand door at the back of the living room. “Now this is the bedroom. I’ll have to apologize to you and Bob that I don’t have a guest room to offer you. At least not yet.”

“This is good-sized, too,” Mrs. McCurley gushed.

“And what a long built-in dresser,” Pepper noted.

“Now don’t you mind, Tap,” Mrs. McCurley continued. “I’m sure us ladies can get along in here just fine tonight. You men will have to make pallets in the living room or sleep out in the barn.”

We will? Oh. Until the wedding. It’s certainly what Hatcher would do. This is gettin’ tougher than I thought.

“Yes, ma’am, you ladies just make yourself at home. Let me show you the kitchen.” Tap led them back out into the main room and around into the kitchen.

As they walked into the room, the big gray and white cat leaped from the counter and sped out the back door.

Pepper ignored the cat. “My, there are lots of cupboards.”

A cat? He has a cat? Am I supposed to know its name? I’ll just wait until I hear Tap call it by name.

“There seems to be plenty of dishes, but they aren’t many of them alike, so maybe you ladies can tell me what’s missin’ there, too. The supplies are in that back cupboard. I’ll stoke this wood stove. Maybe I could impose on you to stir up some supper.”

Tap and McCurley sprawled by a fire in the main room sipping coffee while the women worked in the kitchen. McCurley motioned to Tap. Both men stepped out to the front porch with their drinks.

“You got a nice spread here, Hatcher.”

“Thanks, Bob. There’s a lot of work to do, but I’ve got a lifetime to do it.”

“I surely hope so.”

“What do you mean?”

McCurley leaned up against a porch post and took a
nother sip of his Arbuckles. “Sir, I weren’t exactly truthful back there with the ladies about them outlaws.”

“How’s that?”

“If it’s the same bunch I’ve been hearing about, they’re bad, real bad. They’re the type that will shoot ya just for the fun of it. Since they’ve been runnin’ the border, all sorts of folks have showed up dead.”

“Why do they come clear out here? There isn’t nothin’ worth stealin’, is there?”

“Nope. But there ain’t no lawman for a hundred miles in any direction. And no one in the district will face them down. So they ride off and do their stealin’ up in Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, or Utah and then come high-tailing it back in here to hole up.”

“Where’s their camp?”

“Don’t rightly know that . . . but they seem to hang out over at Pingree Hill.”

“Where’s that?” Tap asked.

“About seventy, eighty miles east of here . . . There’s a dance hall, a regular hurdy-gurdy house, and a few other buildings. It’s a rough bunch that holes up there. They been havin’ so much trouble with the stage that they’re thinkin’ of canceling the run.”

Tap tipped his tin cup and gulped down the last dregs of his now-cold coffee, filtering the grounds with his teeth. “You ever heard of a Jordan Beckett?”

“He’s the worst of the lot, so I’m told. Never met the man and don’t hope to. Where’d you come by his name?”

“Those five that I chased off claimed to be working for Beckett.”

“He’s a mean one. Rumor is they robbed a mine payroll up near Helena, and Beckett shot and killed the bookkeeper after he was roped and tied. There’s something missing in a man who would do that. You can bet he’ll be back out to visit you.”

“That’s kind of what I’m expectin’.” Tap walked out toward the hitching post as McCurley followed. “Bob, have you got a room that Pepper could rent for a few weeks—until we get this weddin’ all planned and completed? I figure it would be good to keep her away from the ranch as much as possible until I see which way the wind blows with this gang.”

“We’re way ahead of you. We got the room already reserved. We knowed you two wouldn’t want to do nothin’ to cast dispersion on Miss Cedar’s virtue.”

“Eh .
 . . right . . . that’s what I meant,” Tap sputtered.

“Now let me tell you somethin’ else I didn’t tell the ladies,” McCurley continued. He leaned so close to Tap that he could smell the old man's coffee breath. “That weren’t the first gu
nfight you ever faced.”

“Nope. I’ve had my share, but it’s all in the past now. I’d pr
efer not to worry Miss Pepper too much.”

“I catch your drift there. But I don’t know if even you can face them down again by yourself.”

“If some two-bit gang can chase me off my property, I want to find out as soon as possible. If I can’t keep this place safe, I have no right to bring a lady on it.”

“Be mighty careful, son. That ain’t no two-bit gang. Next time they won’t stand out in the open and let you take shots at ’em. No, sir, every one of ’em will shoot you in the back if they can.” Then McCurley looked over at the barn. “You got a couple of horses to bury.”

“Yep. But I figure they’ll wait ’til mornin’.” Both men turned back to the front of the house. “Thanks for not puttin’ any more fear into Pepper. I’m frettin’ that she will want to go back east. She’s a little timid about all this, you know.”

“Could of fooled me.” McCurley grinned. “She comes across as a determined lady. You watch—she’ll make it.”

“You two out surveying the landscape? Come in here and wash up. It’s supper time,” Mrs. McCurley commanded.

The lamps were lit before they finished eating. Tap was amazed that the women could scrape together such a fine meal out of his meager supplies. There was meat, boiled potatoes and carrots, pan bread, and canned tomatoes with some kind of seasoning he couldn’t identify. The big gray and white cat sat most of the time near his side, but no one ever mentioned it.

“We’ll be needin’ to get back on the road right after daylight in the mornin’,” Bob McCurley announced. “We’ve got a business to run, and the hired help seems to always have something  bust when we’re gone.”

“I hear you made some arrangements to stay at the McCu
rleys’ hotel until the parson rides through,” Tap said to Pepper.

I did? Why would I want .
 . . oh, yeah.

“Oh, I hope we weren’t presumptive,” Mrs. McCurley added. “I assumed that .
 . . ”

“Oh, my, yes .
 . . you certainly assumed correctly, Mrs. McCurley. I was so anxious to get out here yesterday I forgot to make proper arrangements.”

“Will you be sending for your other things?”

“My other things?”

“Your trunks, clothing, personal items, and the like?”

“Oh . . . my . . . I keep forgetting. So much else on my mind. Yes, of course, they’re at the Wemberly House in Fort Collins. I do hope I can send for them without going back. The road is terrible. I never want to go down there again. Did I tell you the stage had a terrible wreck?”