Where the Deer and the Antelope Play (Code of the West) (20 page)

“I’m not backing out. Gundersens don’t back away from anything.”

“Then they must all be dead.”

Pepper pulled at Tap’s shirt sleeve. “You aren’t really going to do this?”

“Get your fancy rifle, boy. Let’s duel.”

Within minutes the hotel guests had bundled up and emptied out of their rooms to stand in the frigid, cloudy Colorado morning to watch. Wiley and Eagleman stepped off the six hundred yards along the river.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” Tap instructed. “I’ll hike south. You go north. Wiley, you go with him to make sure he’s on your mark. Wade will see that I’m on mine. When I get all set down there, I’ll take off my hat and wave it back and forth above my head. After you see that, you wave your hat to signal you’re ready. Then Bob McCurley will fire his gun into the air. The duel b
egins.”

“But it’s too far. Neither of us will hit anything from there,” Little Bob protested.

“You’ve got twice the powder I have. You just need a little more confidence, son.”

“Tap, this is crazy,” McCurley complained.

He winked at the hotel owner. “If this man wants a duel, he’ll get a duel.”

While the two men got into position, Pe
pper and Rena stood arm in arm on the hotel porch.

“Look at the two of them, Wade. You’d think they were long-lost sisters.”

“Neither of them have anyone much in this country but you and me. I don’t suppose that’s all that reassurin’. What have you got planned?”

“I’ll show you.”

Tap flipped up the sights of the upper tang long-range sights and adjusted the vertical screw, then the windage bar. He cocked the rifle and took off his bullet-riddled gray hat, waving it back and forth above his head. Holding his rifle to his shoulder, he waited several moments.

Little Bob Gundersen took off his hat and started to wave it high. Tap squeezed off a round. The smoke drifted fo
rward, partially blocking the view.

“You shot him before the signal?” Wade choked.

“Nope. I shot the hat.”

“But he dropped. I saw him go down.”

“Maybe a heart attack, but I didn’t hit him.”

“How do you know?”

“I wasn’t aimin’ at him.”

Tap moseyed toward the crowd that now circled Little Bob, who lay unconscious in the snow. Bob McCurley and Wiley grinned as the others stared in shock.

“He’s all right, folks,” McCurley reassured them. “He just fainted. When Tap put a bullet clean through the center of his hat, he passed out. Get me them smellin’ salts, Mama. I’ll bring him around.”

Pepper and Rena joined Tap and Wade.

“Thanks for not killing him," Pepper said. "I’ve definitely decided to ride out with Rena and Wade. They offered to bring me and my belongings in the morning. You think there’s room for all of us at the ranch?”

“We’ll make room. Wiley, you ready?”

“Saddled and waitin’. Ain’t you goin’ to tarry until that boy comes around?”

“Nope. He’s liable to try somethin’ even dumber. It’s what I get for wantin’ to marry such a handsome woman. You goin’ to be all right ’til tomorrow?” he asked Pepper.

“Little Bob won’t come within six hundred yards of me.”

The wind whipped their faces, and neither Tap nor Wiley talked much all the way back to the ranch. As they crossed the frozen river, a few flakes of snow drifted down. By the time they reached the barn, the snow blew hard sideways, redu
cing vision and cutting their flesh.

Stack Lowery met them at the barn. “What happened to you?”

“You should see the others.”

“Dead?”

“Yep.”

“You bring this storm in with you?”

“I guess. Hope Pepper will make it out in the morning. She’s decided to stay here until the weddin’. You’ll never guess who’s comin’ with her.”

“The governor?”

“Wade Eagleman and Rena. He and Rena got married.”

“I’ll be hanged. It’s like an epidemic.”

“What?”

“This marriage thing. I surely hope it’s not contagious. Right, Wiley?”

Wiley led his horse to an empty stall. “How are the ladies?”

“Danni Mae is fine. Rena and Wade, ain’t that som
ethin’? It’s almost providential.”

“How's that?”

“Havin’ a lawyer drivin’ to the ranch.”

Tap faced Stack. “What are you hintin’ at? What’s goin’ on?”

“We had a visitor while you were gone. Said his name was Blackstone.”

“From the Rafter R?” Wiley asked.

“That’s the one.”

“What did he want?”

“To give you this. A Notice to Vacate. As far as Danni Mae and me can cipher, the bank that owned the mortgage on your ranch sold the note to Ed Casey. He wants  possession in ten days.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That don’t seem to concern him much. Maybe Wade can give you some advice. There’s one other thing you ought to know,” Stack informed him.

“Rocky’s run out of laudanum?”

“Besides that.”

“Well?”

“Blackstone’s packin’ a big, new ’76 Winchester in his scabbard.”
Stack handed Tap the papers. “Welcome home, partner.”

10

T
ap Andrews read the Notice to Vacate ten times. Every time it came out the same. Fighting Ed Casey had purchased Hatcher’s loan note from the Fort Collins bank. According to the papers, Casey had paid off the loan and taken legal possession of the Triple Creek Ranch. There was no provision for Tap to raise the money, and the Notice to Vacate would be enforced on January 1 by duly appointed agents of the Larimer County Sheriff’s office.

Selena brought coffee as Tap, Wiley, and Stack huddled at the big dining table. Her long, black hair glistened from a r
ecent washing. Her eyes sparkled. “Maybe you shouldn’t be in such a hurry to get married,
mi caballero.
If you’re going to lose this ranch and all," she stopped to massage the back of Tap's neck. “you need to relax more.”

Danni Mae’s brown curls bounced on her shoulder as she whisked through the room. She grabbed Selena by the sleeve of her purple velvet dance-hall dress and tugged her away.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Come on, Selena, we’ve got to clean up this place, i
ncluding the attic.”

“Why?”

“You heard Tap. Mr. and Mrs. Eagleman are coming out with Pepper in the mornin’. We might have to sleep more people than Rocky up there. Besides, we have to have the whole place weddin’-clean. That’s almost as much work as funeral-clean.”

“I don’t do domestic cleaning,” Selena pouted.

“You do now,” Paula chimed in. “We’re guests here. It’s Pepper’s house.”

Tap watched the women scurry around for a few m
oments.

Stack Lowery rolled up the sleeves of his plaid flannel shirt. “Sometimes it starts feelin’ like the dance hall on a quiet Su
nday afternoon.”

“Wiley, I’ve got to go up and talk to Fightin’ Ed. How do you think I can do that without him tryin’ to take a potshot at me?” Tap reached inside his shirt and rubbed the scarred furrow of the bullet wound on his shoulder that now ached and itched at the same time.

“Sneak up and hogtie him, I suppose. He’s a mighty determined man once he makes up his mind. I surely don’t figure he’ll want to talk to you much.”

“Will he be at the headquarters?”

“This close to Christmas he might be in Cheyenne already. He has a big house there, you know.”

Tap leaned back in the wood-slat chair and threw up his hands. “This whole thing is gettin’ to be a mess.”

“Maybe Eagleman can go up there with you and straighten it out. I hear he’s a mighty good lawyer.”

“No, he’s got to go to Arizona. He’s goin’ to try to settle that matter in Globe City for me.”

Stack locked his big fingers and stretched his hands behind his head. “You know, Andrews, if you wouldn’t get yourself into these fixes, you wouldn’t be in such sorry shape.”

“I always surmised I’d have to live with the consequences of my actions. I just hoped they wouldn’t all come due on the same day.”

Wiley swished the coffee dregs around in his cup and then gulped them down. “Tap, what I can’t figure is that if Fightin’ Ed has the ranch already, why did Drew take potshots at the place? If it was Drew. I reckon even Fightin’ Ed can wait a few days to have you run off legal-like.”

“Maybe I’ll ride up to the border tomorrow and deliberate the matter with Drew myself.”

Wiley glanced at Stack, then back at Tap. He shook his head. “You and Drew sittin’ down and discussin’ somethin’ civil? That will be the day. Stack, did you ever meet a man who riles up hombres into a fightin’ mood quicker than Tap Andrews?”

The big man with the square-jawed face grinned from ear to ear. “Nope. But then I never hung around John Wesley Hardin, Stuart Brannon, or any of them.”

With chatter and giggles from the women at the other end of the room and in the attic, Tap strolled to the front door.

“Looks like I need a new hat.” He poked his fingers through several bullet holes in his old gray beaver felt.

“You going for a ride north?” Wiley asked.

“Thought I might ride out and look around.”

“You won’t get far in this storm.”

“With more company coming in the mornin’, I need to make sure all the bushwhackers have cleared out.”

“I’ll ride with you,” Wiley offered.

“No need for that.”

Wiley rose from the table and meandered toward the door. Although several inches shorter than Tap, he was just as broad-shouldered. “Look, Andrews, old Stack here, he’s used to livin’ in a house full of women. But it kind of gets on my nerves. So I think I’ll ride along and make sure you don’t get lost before the weddin’.”

“Come on. We might as well ride out there and freeze. I don’t reckon I’ve been warm since Yuma.”

Within minutes they plowed into the blowing snow. Peering over his bandanna wrapped around his face and ears, Tap squinted into the storm. Wiley followed behind. They rode straight north with the storm blasting their right sides.

“What are we lookin’ for?” Wiley shouted.

“Some ambusher’s tracks, I guess.”

“You ain’t gettin’ nervous about the weddin’, are you?”

“What’s the weddin’ got to do with this?”

“Nothin’. That’s my point. You jist cain’t sit still for ten mi
nutes, can ya? We’re out here freezing our tails lookin’ for tracks that’s been covered up by snow. It’s like lookin’ for a whisper in a tornado.”

“You can turn back anytime,” Tap hollered.

“That ain’t the burr. What I’m hintin’ at is, you and me both know we ain’t goin’ to find anything in a storm like this. So why are we really doin’ this?”

Tap looked over at Wiley, who was trying to hunker down into his coat. He didn’t say anything but kept riding.

That’s a good question. It’s just . . . It can’t be . . . I can’t lose this ranch. Me and Pepper have all our dreams tied to this place. I want it bad, Lord. I know I don’t deserve it, but the truth is, You’ve been givin’ me better than I deserve for quite a while now. I don’t figure I’d need much else for a long time. This place would keep me out of Your hair. I’ll work hard for it, Lord. You know I will.

When Tap’s eyes caught a mound in the snow ahead of them, he pulled the rifle from his scabbard and stepped out of the saddle all in one motion. Brownie stood motionless, slumped into the storm, the reins dropped to the ground, the tapaderas plastered white with snow.

“What is it?” Wiley shouted.

Tap brushed the snow off the brown and white mottled hide. “One of my heifers .
 . . shot through the neck with a big-bore rifle.”

“How long ago?”

“Can’t tell . . . frozen stiff . . . about an inch or two of snow. So my guess is that it was Drew Blackstone on his way north after servin’ those papers.”

“You figure he shot others?”

“I reckon, but most of ’em hang out down closer to the barn.”

“That one will still butcher.”

“Yeah, but not ’til we thaw it out.”

“What do you figure on doin’?”

“You uncoil that
reata
and throw a loop on her. She’ll drag on top of the snow all the way to the ranch. Hang it in the barn, and we’ll chop her up for the weddin’.”

“You headin’ north?”

“Yep.”

“You need any help? Blackstone don’t exactly play by the rules.”

“There ain’t no rules when someone starts shootin’ cattle. They’re tryin’ to take the whole ranch, but the bovines belong to me. No one rides in here lead-droppin’ cows.”

“You can’t find him now. It’s gettin’ dark. Let’s go warm up. We’ll check it out tomorrow.”