Where the Deer and the Antelope Play (Code of the West) (21 page)

Tap stared straight at Wiley’s brown eyes. “I let you stay at my house and eat my food, and now I have to listen to your naggin’?”

“You know I’m right.”

“I’m just ridin’ up here a few more miles, then I’ll turn back. I won't be long.”

Wiley slipped from his saddle and tied a double half-hitch around the dead cow’s hind legs. “Go on. I don’t reckon you ever listened to anyone in your life. I didn’t figure you’d start now.” Wiley remounted, dallied the
reata
to the saddle horn, and headed to the ranch.

Tap watched Wiley slide the heifer south. Then he turned Brownie into the wind and snow and spurred him northeast. A half hour later he found a cow and yearling shot and co
vered with snow. After that he couldn’t find any cows, downed or alive, nor did he spot any trail. Fresh snow covered everything.

Just before dark Brownie quit.

No matter that Tap spurred him, the gelding refused to ride into the storm any longer.

“Brownie, you can’t quit now. Yee-ahh. Git up. Git goin’. Come on, boy!”

The horse didn’t budge.

First Wiley, now Brownie. You’re gangin’ up on me, Lord.

“I ain’t through with you, Blackstone. Don’t you ever think you pulled one on me,” he shouted into the miserable cold.

Tap swung Brownie’s rear to the storm. The gelding trotted south.

Oh, sure, any old nag can turn tail and run for the barn.

That evening most of the house guests crowded around the fireplace or the piano. Tap sat in the rocking chair and kept the fire stoked. He thought about the
Notice to Vacate
, dead cows . . . and Pepper.

Mostly, he thought about Pepper.

“You ain’t singin’ much, cowboy.” Selena leaned close to his ear as she wrapped her arm across the back of the chair.

“I’m not much of a singer.”

The dark-eyed Selena lifted his hand. “You want to dance?”

“I don’t dance much either.”

“I know you don’t drink. So what in the world do you do?”

“Yeah. What do you do?” a soft voice echoed.

Both Tap and Selena turned to see Rocky scoot up next to them. Her long, straight brown hair was tangled. Her eyes were red and raw.

“If you’re lonely, I can make you feel better,” she offered.

“Little sis, you shouldn’t be talkin’ like that,” Tap scolded.

“Don’t call me ‘little sis.’ I ain’t little. I can do anything Selena can do. And some of it, I do better.”

Tap took Rocky’s thin white hand and pulled her in front of him.

“I call you ‘little sis’ as a compliment. You’re a pretty girl. If I had a little sister, I’d treat her just like I’m treatin’ you.”

“I don’t want to be your little sister,” she pouted.

“I know it. And I’m tellin’ you right now, that’s the best I have to offer you. Pepper’s my girl. Even Princess Selena knows she doesn’t have a chance. That’s why she teases me so. Right, Selena?”

“He’s right, Rocky. And remember, I told you there’s a whole lot cuter men than him in Laramie City.”

“Why don’t we go to Laramie City now?”

“We’ll be there in a few days. This is a good time to rest up. By next week we’ll be having parties every night,” Selena promised.

“Do they have drugstores in Laramie City that sell laud
anum?” Rocky asked.

“On every corner.”

“I don’t feel so good.”

Tap noticed dark circles under her eyes. “You need to eat something, little sis. I haven’t seen you eat a thing all day.”

“I’ve been sick. I ain’t hungry.”

“You go over there and try to eat something,” he insisted.

“Will you dance with me then?”

“Sure, if you promise not to laugh.”

Rocky scurried across the room.

“How about me, Mr. Gunfighter?” Selena ran the fingers of her right hand up Tap’s arm and across his chest. “Will you dance with me if I go eat something?”

“If I dance with you, Pepper will kill us both.” He glanced back at Rocky. “She doesn’t have much to look forward to in this life.”

“She’s what we call a
mariposa
,” Selena whispered.

“A butterfly?”

“Yes. She is beautiful but frail. Life span is short.”

Around nine o’clock, Tap waltzed with a smiling Rocky. Then he, Stack, and Wiley headed for the barn.

Tap tossed and turned and dreamed of being late for the wedding. He chased cattle rustlers through deep snow. And butterflies.

He woke up still weary and chilled.

After breakfast he, Wiley, and Stack gathered on the front porch. Small flakes of light snow drifted down.

“I’m goin’ out and push my cows down toward the barn b
efore any more get shot.”

“I’m goin’ with you,” Wiley offered. “You ought to be here when Pepper rolls in.”

“No need for two to freeze. It won’t take me and Brownie more than an hour.”

“And then a few hours ridin’ north to see who shot those cows of yours. And then chase the bushwhacker clear to the Wyomin’ line. And a visit to Laramie City or Cheyenne. Right, Stack?”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“All right. You can come along and baby-sit. Stack, tell Pe
pper we’re tendin’ cattle and hope to be back before noon. Shoot, we’ll probably be home before they get here.”

“You want me to feed the horses?”

“I’d appreciate it. If we get more company, I’ll have to build a bigger barn.”

“How about a dance hall and hotel?” Stack teased.

“Not me. I aim for a peaceful and quiet place here.”

Within two and a half hours Tap and Wiley had circled b
ehind most of the longhorns. Wiley drove three cows out of a stand of leafless aspens and joined Tap with the herd.

“You got enough feed in that meadow for them to winter out?”

“That’s what I aim to find out. Longhorns will paw through the snow better than those whitefaces.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Do they count out right?”

“I’m missing a couple still. Maybe they’ll get lonesome and wander in.”

“They could be shot.”

“Yeah. I’m tryin’ not to think about that.”

Wiley pointed to a rider galloping through the snow from the south. “Is that old Stack ridin’ up to help us?”

“That house full of women must have chased him out.”

“He’s ridin’ pretty fast. Maybe something happened to Pe
pper.” Tap spurred Brownie toward the oncoming horse.

“Tap, we got trouble,” Stack shouted. “Rocky’s gone.” He had the collar of his fleece coat turned up and his tan felt hat pulled down and fastened by the stampede string.

“What do you mean, gone? I thought she was sound asleep in the attic when we left this mornin’.”

“That’s what we calculated. But when Danni Mae finally went up there, she and all her blankets were gone. You and Wiley don’t have that blaze-faced horse of yours, do you?”

“Onespot? He’s in the corral with the others . . . isn’t he?”

“Nope. I think she took him.”

“You find tracks?”

“Pretty much snow-covered.”

“You think she headed out during the night?”

“Could be.”

“But I was awake most of the night.”

Stack pushed back his hat and wiped his forehead. “The snow makes a quiet cover.”

“She could freeze to death.”

Wiley rode up to the others. “What’s the problem?”

“Rocky ran off in the night. Go ahead and run those longhorns back to the meadow north of the ranch house. Then stick around and tell Pepper what’s going on when she comes in. Stack and me will go out and try to cut Rocky’s trail.”

Tap spurred Brownie to a trot and headed southeast t
oward the Medicine Bow Mountains. Straight east of the barn they found tracks.

“You reckon those are Onespot’s tracks?”

“Yeah . . . that’s a good guess. But she’s been out here a long time. It wasn’t snowin’ all that hard last night, and yet those tracks have almost disappeared.

They followed the old tracks in the almost two-foot-deep snow. Brownie plowed through the drifts with his long, high stride as Tap tried to trace the indentations. The snowflakes turned wetter and increased in size. Visibility dimmed to twenty or thirty feet.

“It’s warming up enough to really dump some snow,” Stack hollered.

Tap pulled his bandanna down away from his mouth.

“Where would she go, Stack?”

“I know she don’t have any kin. April tried to send her home, but there wasn’t any. There’s no tellin’ where she’s headed. To a drugstore to get more laudanum, I reckon.”

“What town?”

“The only one we’ve mentioned is Laramie City.”

“You figure she’ll head north?”

“If she knew which way was north.”

“I’m losin’ these tracks. There’s no way of followin’ her now.”

“Maybe we ought to branch out and cover more ground.”

“Yeah. You ride right up the draw, and I’ll take the tree line. I’ll see you at the cedars.”

“Where?”

“Follow the edge of the chaparral north for a few more miles. You’ll find a day camp in a cedar grove. I’ll swing through the trees and meet you there. If we haven’t found her by then, we’ll have to turn back . . . and leave her in the Lord’s hands.”

“If she made it that far north, she might be in Wyomin’ by now.”

“I hope she found someplace warm. I’m about numb.”

The snow continued to pile up. Tap lost all sign of hoo
fprints. He followed what he knew was the high trail to the Wyoming border, hoping Onespot remembered the way and carried Rocky to that point.

On the ridge overlooking the cedar grove, Tap saw not
hing but falling snow. Even the evergreen trees shaded indistinct on the white horizon.

He was within thirty feet of the tightly clumped scrub c
edars when he spied the outline of a horse tied to a tree.

Onespot. She’s here. Rocky made it to the cedars.

Tap slid off his saddle into the knee-deep snow and plunged toward the trees.

“Rocky. It’s Tap. Rocky?”

A snow-dusted mound back under the cedars caught his eye.

No! It can't be. She’s too young.

Tap shuffled through the snow and brushed ice off the wool blanket. He gently folded it back.

Rocky lay curled up in a fetal position, her eyes closed. She looked asleep, though already rigid.

Tears traced his face and froze before he bothered wiping them off. He looked her over and found no bullet wounds nor any marks at all. She was clothed in her oversized dance-hall dress and hooded cloak and wrapped in two blankets.

He plopped down in the snow and laid her blanket-covered head in his lap, patting it tenderly. “Little Sis, you didn’t get many breaks in this life.”

Lord, she didn’t need to run away. Maybe if I hadn’t pushed her away every time. Maybe if I had said nice things I don’t know why this had to happen. She didn’t even live long enough to get a fair shake.

“You in there? Tap?” a voice knifed through the storm.

“Stack?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on in.”

“I saw Onepenny. Did you find her?”

“Yep.”

“She dead?”

“Yep.”

Stack stepped off his horse and shuffled through the snow. "Was she shot?”

“No. She just got too cold and went to sleep."

Stack let out a deep sigh. "You’ve got a cow dead back in the draw. Shot this mornin’.”

“Big bore?”

“Yeah.”

“Then Blackstone’s out here.”

“I reckon.” Stack pulled back the blanket and looked at the girl. “Rocky, darlin’, if you’d only stayed at the house. I pro
mised to take care of you.” Stack turned away. “I’ll take her back with me. Are you goin’ after Blackstone?”

“Seein’ Rocky like that, I just don’t have the heart for it. He’ll be in Wyomin’ before I could catch him. I reckon I’ll ride back with you and see that Little Sister gets buried proper.”

“I’d appreciate it. She surely took a likin’ to you. It’s a shame. She should be laughin’ and gigglin’ and goin’ to school and church socials and all that. There ain’t nothin’ good about this. Maybe I should never have brought that laudanum back to her.”

“She would have run off sooner. She had to make her own choices, I guess.”

They mounted up and rode south with the blanket-wrapped Rocky cradled in Stack’s strong arms.

When the men returned with Rocky, even the arrival of Pepper, Wade, and Rena produced only a muted reunion.

Pepper and Tap had a few minutes of privacy to discuss the details of the wedding day. Not long after supper, the men headed for the barn, and everyone bedded down.