The Killing Season (64 page)

“What do you see?” Vivian asked.

“Nothing,” said Nathan, “but on the frontier, it's as important to know who's behind as it is to know who's ahead.” .

In the late afternoon, his vigilance was rewarded. Far away, against the blue Texas sky, he could see two faint plumes of dust.

“We're being followed,” he said.

“Who would follow us, and why?”

“Likely some of those men at the saloon in Mobeetie. They'll wait for dark, then try to ambush us, taking our horses, saddles, and any valuables we have.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“You're going to ride on, leading my horse,” said Nathan. “I'm going to take my Winchester and welcome these hombres. When I send Empty for you, ride on back with my horse.”

Nathan took his Winchester and positioned himself behind some rocks, so that he could see the back trail. He kept Empty beside him, and waited. When the two riders were but a few yards distant, he challenged them.

“That's far enough. You're covered. Drop your guns.”

“We ain't done nothin' to you,” one of the riders said.

“You're not going to, either,” Nathan replied. “Now drop those guns.”

Silently, Nathan pointed in the direction Vivian had ridden, and Empty trotted away. The disgruntled pair dropped their revolvers, but each had a rifle in his saddle boot.

“Now dismount,” Nathan commanded.

Slowly they swung down from their saddles.

“Now take off your boots,” said Nathan.

“No, damn you,” one of the men shouted.

“Then I'll gut-shoot you,” said Nathan. “Your choice.”

By the time they had removed their boots, Vivian had returned.

“Vivian,” Nathan said, “take the reins of their horses and lead them away. Then take their pistols there on the ground and step back out of the way. Now, you varmints, shuck your shirts and drop your britches.”

“You aim to strip us afore a woman?”

“This woman's seen skinned coyotes before,” said Nathan. “Now move!”

Slowly they peeled down to the hide, until they wore only their socks and their hats.

“Now,” Nathan said, “just trot back the way you came.”

“You heartless bastard,” one of them shouted, “it's fifty mile back to Mobeetie.”

“Good,” said Nathan. “You'll have plenty of time to consider the error of your ways, and don't try sneaking back. Next time, I'll shoot the both of you.”

“That was a terrible thing to do,” Vivian said. “Before they reach Mobeetie, the sun will have blistered everything but their heads and the soles of their feet.”

“I'll turn their horses loose in the morning,” said Nathan. “If they're lucky, their horses will catch up to them sometime tomorrow.”

“Suppose their horses don't return to Mobeetie?”

Nathan laughed. “Then I know a pair of varmints with a long walk ahead of them. Put their pistols in their saddlebags. I'll tie their clothes to their saddle horns, and we'll be on our way.”

They rode south, and an hour before sundown, big gray thunderheads rolled in from the west. The wind had a chill to it.

“We'd better look for a dry place to hole up for the night,” said Nathan. “We're close to the Red, and where the banks are high, there'll be some overhang.”

Finding shelter, Nathan gathered enough dry wood for their cook fire before the rain began. The storm passed during the night. After breakfast, before they rode south, Nathan turned loose the horses taken from the two bushwhackers the day before.

Nathan and Vivian had supper with Captain Webb, and the officer relayed some interesting news.

“The Horrell-Higgins feud is on again. I understand you have a stake in that.”

“No more,” Nathan said. “An outlaw friend of theirs ambushed a ranger friend of mine, but that's been settled.”

“Don't count on it,” said Captain Webb. “Most of the trouble is near Lampasas, and I hear the Horrells have set out to settle up with anybody they believe has slighted them.”

Nathan said nothing, and after they had parted company with Captain Webb, Vivian spoke.

“Where is Lampasas?”

“A few minutes' ride south of Waco,” Nathan replied. “We can miss it by a good fifty miles. I can't believe the Horrells would come after me, but nothing they've ever done has made sense, so we won't gamble on it. We'll stop in Austin and talk to the rangers.”

“We had hoped the Horrell-Higgins fight had burned itself out,” Ranger Bodie West said, “but then the Horrells came back from New Mexico Territory, and it started all over again. So far, nobody's been killed, but I look for it any time. Then I reckon we'll have to move in and show the whole blessed bunch the error of their ways.”

“Captain Webb, at Fort Griffin, says they're settling old debts,” said Nathan. “While I don't aim to go looking for them, I sure as hell won't run.”

“If they come after you,” the ranger said, “don't be bashful. If you're forced to shoot some of them, don't worry about bein' on the wrong side of the law.”

“I won't be hanging around Lampasas,” said Nathan. “Vivian and me are on our way to Uvalde, to spend some time with my amigo, King Fisher.”

West laughed. “You won't have to go to Lampasas. King Fisher's gone and done what most sensible folks think was a damn fool thing. He's got himself a woman, and she's a sister to Martin Horrell. Fisher met her at a dance in Waco and persuaded her to go home with him. Martin rode to King's place at Uvalde, got nasty, and Fisher plumb tied a knot in his tail and sent him packing. The Higgins bunch making it hot for the Horrells is all that's kept the lid on between the Horrells and King Fisher.”

“Why are the Higgins and Horrell families fighting?” Vivian asked.

“God only knows,” said West. “My guess is that they all came from somewhere else, and brought the feud with them. From what I hear, some of the women on both sides want the fighting to stop, but the men won't hear of it.”

Nathan and Vivian took a room at a hotel where Empty was welcome. Not until they were through with supper did Vivian say what was on her mind.

“You could get yourself shot in somebody else's fight.”

“I could,” said Nathan, “and as I've been guilty of saying, it takes a damn fool to do that.”

“But we're still going to Uvalde.”

“Yes,” Nathan said. “Where my friends are concerned, I am a damn fool, but I reckon King can use another gun.”

Uvalde was a two-day ride, and they would start at first light.

Nathan and Vivian took “King Fisher's road,” and long before they reached the house, Empty broke the silence with a warning bark. Nathan and Vivian reined up, as King Fisher stepped out of the brush. He had a Winchester under his arm and a grin on his rugged face. He spoke.

“I swear, if I didn't believe in the resurrection before, I do now. That's the same dog you buried last time you was here.”

“I buried his daddy,” said Nathan. “This is Empty. The lady is Vivian Stafford, the sister of a friend of mine.”

“Pardner, you got some trusting friends. Ma'am, you just say the word, I'll set this varmint back on the road to San Antone, and take you on to the house with me.”

Recognizing his humor for what it was, Vivian laughed.

“We heard you already got a woman at the house,” said Nathan. “That's why we're here. The word's out that her kin aims to hang you upside down over a slow fire, and I reckoned you could use an extra gun.”

“I could use a company of U.S. Cavalry,” Fisher said. “You know about this bunch of Horrells?”

“I do,” said Nathan. “Do you think the woman's worth it?”

“If I didn't, I wouldn't have brought her home with me,” Fisher said. “After you've seen to your horses, come on to the house and see for yourselves. I'll go on ahead and tell Molly you're coming.”

Nathan unsaddled the horses, quickly rubbed them down, and found stalls for them in the barn. Then he and Vivian started for the house.

“I like him,” Vivian said. “He's very young.”

“Not more than twenty-one or -two,” said Nathan, “but he's a Texan, a man to ride the river with.”
³¹

When they reached the house, King Fisher let them in. Shaniqua remembered Nathan, for it had been she who had doctored his many wounds after King Fisher had rescued him from bloodthirsty vigilantes. The girl, Molly, greeted them shyly. She had long, dark hair and brown eyes, and Nathan judged her to be eighteen.

“It's a mite early for supper,” said Fisher, “but Shaniqua always has coffee ready.”

He led the way into the dining room, drawing out chairs for Vivian and Molly. When they were seated, Shaniqua brought the coffee. It was an awkward situation for Nathan and Vivian, for they had no idea what they could or should say to Molly Horrell. Certainly she was a beautiful girl, and it was obvious why King Fisher had been taken with her. Fisher had to say something to bridge the gap, and he did.

“Molly, these folks are friends of mine, and they know about your background, so you don't have to be afraid to talk.”

“I'm not afraid to talk,” said Molly. “Mostly, I'm ashamed to. Martin and most all the others—the men—think Horrell women should be satisfied to cook, scrub clothes, and patch up the men after they've been shot by the Higgins bunch. King offered me a chance to get away, and I took it. I'll shoot myself before I'll go back.”

As time passed, Vivian and Molly quickly became friends, and through Vivian, Nathan began to appreciate Molly Horrell for what she was. The Horrell and Higgins factions continued sniping at one another, and it began to look as though the Horrells might have let Molly go. But trouble erupted on Christmas day that had nothing to do with the Horrells. Nathan, Vivian, King, and Molly drove to San Antonio for Christmas dinner at one of the fancy hotels. They were about to enter the hotel dining room, when a cowboy took Molly's arm and tried to lead her away. In a fury, Fisher drew his Colt and pumped three slugs into the man.

“My God,” said Nathan, “you didn't have to kill him.”

“The hell I didn't,” Fisher said. “He's one of those damn Horrell riders. I've seen him before.”

“He's never worked for the Horrells,” Molly cried.

The cowboy's name was William Dunovan, and his friends testified he had been drunk. There was no evidence he was, or had ever been, employed by the Horrells. King Fisher was taken to the courthouse, where he would be released on bond. While Nathan, Vivian, and Molly waited, Nathan spoke to one of the rangers from the outpost at San Antonio. The ranger knew of Nathan, and they spent a few minutes in friendly conversation.

“Ben Thompson killed a man this morning in Austin,” the ranger said. “This is shaping up to be a bloody Christmas.”

“I know Thompson,” said Nathan. “What's going to happen to him?”

“He'll be tried,” the ranger said. “Probably sometime next spring.
³²

The holiday had been spoiled, and when Fisher was allowed to leave, they all got into the buckboard and returned to the ranch. Fisher said nothing, and Molly sat beside him, pale and shaken. Reaching the ranch, Fisher left Nathan to unhitch the team and rub them down. Vivian remained with him, while Fisher and Molly went on to the house.

“Dear God, I can't believe he did that,” Vivian said.

“Neither can I,” said Nathan. “He's seeing Horrells everywhere.”

When Nathan and Vivian reached the house, King Fisher was at the dining-room table with a bottle of whiskey, downing it from a shot glass. Molly was in the kitchen, looking more distressed than ever. Shaniqua seemed unconcerned, as she went about getting dinner. Molly ate virtually nothing, and King Fisher skipped the meal entirely, retiring to the living room with his bottle. Nathan and Vivian retreated to their room early, at a loss as to what to say or do.

“I feel sorry for Molly,” Vivian said. “King seemed so nice. What happened to him?'

“I don't know,” said Nathan. “All I know is, he's not the man I thought he was. I'm of a mind to move on. King's my friend, and I'll side him till hell freezes, if he needs me, but I don't know what he needs or wants. Worse yet, I don't think he knows. Tomorrow, I think we'll all have to reach a decision.”

 

When Nathan and Vivian arose the next morning, King Fisher sat at the table downing black coffee the way he had been drinking whiskey the day before. Shaniqua was preparing breakfast, and there was no sign of Molly. Fisher looked at Nathan through bleary eyes for a moment before he spoke.

“You and me need to talk.”

Vivian left the room, and Fisher drank the rest of his coffee before he spoke.

“Pardner, me and Molly had us a talk last night. She wants us to just step out of the picture for a while. What happened ... that shooting ... in San Antone, helped her to see what lies ahead, if somethin' don't change. Personal, I can't see none of them Horrells bein' worth the lead it'd take to blow 'em all to perdition, but they're Molly's kin, and there's not a damn thing I can do about that. I'm thinking it's time for another wild horse hunt. Just me, Molly, and our
Mejicano
riders. After that, maybe we'll camp across the river for a spell, just keepin' an eye on things. Was it just me, I'd set here with a Winchester and blast the ears off any varmint that drifted within range, but this is for Molly. Do you think she's worth it?”