Where the Deer and the Antelope Play (Code of the West) (8 page)

Danni Mae took a deep breath and sighed. “I surely hope so, but who knows now? I really don’t know what we’re goin’ to do, Tap. We don’t have two dollars among the whole lot of us.”

“Me and Stack will ride out tomorrow and get your money back. Right now I’ll see if I can stir up some food. Pepper cooked a few things that me and Wiley didn’t finish.”

“Wiley?”

“Oh, he’s a friend of mine stayin’ at the ranch a few days.”

“I’ll help you. I surely don’t want Stack to cook the eggs.” Danni Mae raised her eyebrows and scooted past him into the kitchen.

By the time the clear night sky turned a light gray, the crowd at Tap’s house had crammed around the big front room table scraping tin plates piled with steaming potatoes, beef, and eggs. No one talked much, and the girls still looked tired and stunned. Rocky sat by the fire refusing to eat.

“Ladies,” Tap began, “there’s only one bedroom in this house. It’s a mess, but you are welcome to it. Just kick my stuff out of there and make it home.”

“Now don’t that beat all?” Selena leaned over the table toward Tap. “That blonde bobcat’s down at McCurleys’, and I’m here in Señor Tapadera’s
alcoba.”

“All four of us will be in the bedroom,” Danni Mae r
eminded her.

The women left the three men sitting at the table drinking thick, black coffee.

“Mr. Lowery, what about it? You still want to wait ’til tomorrow mornin’?” Tap asked.

“I’ve been thinkin’. We can’t move in on you and Pepper like this. Maybe I ought to take these girls to Laramie City. Yu
mmie Jackson has a little hotel up there, and he owes me a favor or two. Then I could ride down to Denver and find April. Maybe stop off and notify the sheriff.”

“These boys could be anywhere from El Paso to San Diego by then. Leave the ladies here at the ranch for a while. Let’s ride out tomorrow and see if we cut their trail. The sheriff won’t come over the pass ’til spring to help the dance-hall girls, and you know it.”

“But I only planned on spendin’ the night. You think Pepper would mind all of us camping out here?”

“She was countin’ on you playin’ the piano and Danni Mae singin’ at the weddin’. If you all move off to Laramie City and miss that event, it would break her heart.”

“Except for Selena. The last time the two of them was in the same room, they were yankin’ hair, gougin’ eyes, and pullin’ knives.”

“Oh, Pepper’s over that now. It won’t be any bother and you can roll out of here right after the weddin'. It’ll be over by noon. You’ll still make it to Wyomin’ before Christmas.”

Wiley pulled out his barlow knife and picked his teeth. “Now I was thinkin’, I don’t know those boys like you do. I reckon the two of ya probably had more experience with a gun. So if you figure someone ought to hang around the ranch and protect the womenfolk . . . ”

Tap winked at Stack. “Wiley, which one you got your eye set on?”

Wiping his mouth with his dark green bandanna, Wiley leaned over the table. “That short one with the curly, brown hair looks like a regular belle.”

“Danni Mae? Good choice,” Stack replied. “She don’t carry no knife.”

“The others got knives?”

“Yep. But Danni Mae just handles a pistol,” Tap joshed.

Stack gulped down the rest of his coffee and waved the cup at Wiley. “Don’t worry none. It’s just a little two-shot .32. Won’t do much damage, unless it hits something vital.”

Both Tap and Stack roared.

“You speakin’ for the brand now?” Wiley pressed.

“I don’t rightly know what they carry on any given evenin’, but every one of them girls can take care of herself,” Stack a
ssured him.

Tap felt a draft. He rolled down his sleeves and buttoned them. “It would be good to have one of us here, just in case those outlaws double back or Fightin’ Ed comes raidin’ again.”

Wiley slapped the table with the open palm of his hand. “That’s exactly what I was thinkin’.”

“Stack, Wiley’s fixin’ up the tack room as a bunkhouse. You go on out and get some sleep. I’ve got to ride down to McCu
rleys’ and try to catch up with a banker. There’s a little misunderstandin’ about an old bank loan. I’ll be back tonight, and we’ll light out by daybreak tomorrow. I figure if we can’t find their trail in three days, we won’t find it at all.”

Tap left the Triple Creek Ranch by midmorning. Selena, Danni Mae, Paula, and Rocky occupied the house while Stack and Wiley bunked out next to the woodstove in the barn. The low orange sun offered little hope for heat, and Tap’s teeth chattered as he bounced along with Onespot’s unsteady gait.

He’d like someone lighter in the saddle, but ol’ Brownie needed a little rest.

There’s nothin’ on my copy of the deed that says anything about a bank loan. Maybe he’s got the wrong ranch. Maybe he’s a huckster out workin’ the small-time ranchers. I heard about that fellow down near Durango who had ’em all co
nvinced to pay him off.

I need to get Wade Eagleman to look into this. He’ll know what to do. But I can’t go to Denver. Every dream I’ve had in the past four weeks has been in Denver and me late gettin' to the wedding.

I’ll ride up north to Laramie City and send him a telegram. But Stack said that gang headed south.

The bones in his feet and hands ached by the time McCu
rleys’ came into view. Tap longed for the big fireplace in the parlor and a hot cup of coffee. He pulled his saddle from Onespot, turned the black pony out in the corrals, and hustled to the solitary hotel, the only place for miles.

Bob McCurley met him at the front door wearing a heavy red flannel shirt. He
hooked his thumbs into his suspenders. “Seen you puttin’ up Onespot. Figured you knew your way around the barn.”

“The amount of time I spend here I ought to rent stall space.”

“Shoot, me and the missus sort of figure you’re marryin’ into the family. Mama’s just about adopted that Pepper of yours.”

“Where is that yellow-haired girl?”

“Come on in and take some dinner.” McCurley tossed his muscled arm around Tap’s shoulder. “She ought to be back by the time you get the road chill out of your bones.”

“She’s not here?” Tap tugged off his deerskin gloves.

“Nope. Mrs. Franklin sent word that she was going to leave tomorrow to go to Ogden to have that baby of hers at her mother’s. So she needed Pepper to come out and get the final fittin’, or whatever, on that weddin’ dress. She said she’d be back by three at the latest.”

“I’ll just take you up on dinner.” Tap tried to shrug off the disappointment. “Is that Ft. Collins banker around?”

“He left his rig here and took the morning stage east.”

“Looks like I traveled all mornin’ for nothin’.”

“Pepper will be back later. Come on and get something to eat.”

Tap jammed his coat on a hook by the door. “Did you hear about the dance hall over at Pingree Hill burnin’ down?”

“You don’t say. Ain’t that where Pepper . . .?"

“I’ll tell you about it over meat and potatoes.”

Tap and Bob McCurley talked about the fire, the rustlers, and the banker’s demand for loan repayment for the next two hours. The only thing he didn’t mention was the fact that the girls now occupied the ranch. They were sitting in the parlor drinking coffee when McCurley finally had to excuse himself to do chores.

For the next hour Tap talked hunting with a dry goods dru
mmer, but mainly he paced the floor. It was almost dark when a man in a buckboard full of sacks of oats rolled into the yard. Tap watched the man unload six 120-pound sacks and hand Bob McCurley a note.

McCurley strolled over to Tap. “Pratt Moore brought me this note from Pepper. He rode in from the Franklin place. You take a look at it. I ain’t got my readin’ glasses.”

Tap unfolded the heavy beige paper and glanced at Pepper’s familiar scrawl. McCurley hovered about his shoulder.

Tap’s eyes followed line after line on the letter. He turned to catch a little more daylight. “She says the Franklin woman broke early and begged her to stay the night and help with the delivery.”

“She ain’t comin’ back tonight?”

“Nope. ’Course, she didn’t know I was goin’ to be visitin’ t
oday anyway.”

“We’ll find some room. You jist spend the night and talk to her in the mornin’.”

“Bob, I promised I’d help Stack track down those men. I’ll have to ride back to the ranch tonight. I’ll leave her a note and explain things . . . I guess. This surely is a strange way to court a woman—just writin’ back and forth and never seein’ each other.”

“Sort of reminds you of Hatcher and that Cedar woman, don’t it?” McCurley remarked.

Tap tugged on his jacket and scratched out a note at the small table next to the coat rack by the front door of the hotel.

Pepper,

I missed the banker, so I’m goin’ to contact Wade Eagleman in Denver and see what he can do about that matter of the loan against the ranch. There’s nothing about it on my copy of Hatcher’s deed.

April’s dance hall burnt down (Mr. Mac can fill you in), and I’ve got to go help Stack Lowery track the men who did it. Stack’s countin’ on me, and a man’s got to stick by his friends. Don’t worry about me. I faced this bunch before. I’ll swing by McCurleys’ when we’re through.

Suzanne’s money would have been a real help with this bank loan business. But we both sort of knew it wasn’t ours in the first place. We’ll figure somethin’ out. I’m not goin’ to lose the ranch.

I miss you like crazy.

Tap

P.S. I’ll bet the dress looks right handsome.

The moon was not much more than a thin slice when darkness hit, and the stars dotted the coal black sky. Tap tried to find warmth in his thoughts of Pepper, but his feet, hands, and face felt frozen before he and Onespot reached the river crossing halfway to the ranch.

The steam from his breath quickly froze and turned his mustache icy white. Onespot’s small stride seemed more slu
ggish than ever, and the miles throbbed by slowly.

Lord, I know the girls aren’t exactly paragons of public vi
rtue, but they deserve better than this. And I can’t think of anyone on earth, except for me and Stack, who would help them. I know the Good Book says to help the widows and orphans, and these girls figure somewhere in between. Somebody’s got to look after them.

The lamps burned bright behind the curtains of the front room at the ranch house when Tap Andrews rode into the yard. The barn was dark and silent as he groomed the black gelding. He could hear someone playing the piano as he a
pproached the front porch. His pounding boot heels and jingling spurs were drowned out by the noise and laughter from inside.

He started to knock on the door.

Wait! It’s my house. I can’t be intrudin’.

The music stopped when he walked through the doorway.

“Welcome to the funeral,” Stack greeted from the piano bench.

Selena sat next to him. Danni Mae and Wiley hovered near the fireplace. Rocky sat like a stagnant pool in the rocker, transfixed on the glowing coals. Sal, the cat, perched still on her lap. Paula Sangtree sat at the kitchen table with a blanket wrapped around her, sewing her dress.

“A funeral?” Tap slung his coat on a hook and scooted to the fire.

“Yep. Tonight we are buryin’ the dance hall. How’s that Pe
pper girl?”

“I didn’t see her.”

Selena sidled over to Tap and slipped her arm in his. “Did she run out on you,
caballero?”

“She got tied up deliverin’ a baby for the lady who’s se
wing her weddin’ dress.”

“That will be useful knowledge,” Selena teased.

An hour later Tap, Stack, and Wiley slumbered across the frozen snow to the barn. Stoking the woodstove in the tack room, the three huddled close for warmth.

“What’s the schedule in the mornin’?” Stack asked.

Wiley rubbed his hands together close to the fire. “You still want me to stay with the women?”

“Nope.”

Wiley grinned broadly. “I figured that was too good to be true.”

“I need you to ride to Laramie City and send two tel
egrams. You’re the only one who can ride up and cross the Rafter R without bein’ shot at.”

“What kind of telegrams?”

“One to April notifying her of the fire and that the girls will be at the ranch until December 22. The other to a lawyer friend in Denver. I’m hopin’ he can help me with the bank note. I’ll scribble them out for you.”

Sometime during the night dark, heavy clouds slid into the Colorado sky between the North Platte River and the Medicine Bow Mountains. Sometime during the night Tap thought he heard sounds of a woman crying in the ranch house. And sometime during the night the fire in the stove went out.

“You’re movin’ around like an old man.”

Tap hobbled around the potbellied stove trying to revive the fire. “Some parts of me do feel older than others.”

Stack crawled out from under the blankets and began to pull on his tall, black stove-top boots. “Yep. Ever’ knife wound, ever’ broken bone, ever’ scrap of lead you carry has a way of r
emindin’ you of your past sins.”