Dorothy Garlock (15 page)

“Damn you to hell, girl!” Adam roared after he brought his horse under control. He quieted the animal and reassessed the situation. Case Malone was standing at the end of the house. He looked relaxed and loose, as if what was going on was of no concern to him. Although his better judgment told him it was dangerous to goad the man, Adam’s pride compelled to do so. “What are you doing here, Malone? You figure on getting a job ramroddin’ this outfit?”

“Maybe,” Case said evenly.

The Clayhill men laughed loud and long. Most of them were glad to see the last of Case Malone. He’d driven them hard, been relentless in seeing to it they put in a day’s work for a day’s pay. He allowed no abuse of any animal and was intolerant of mistakes. For awhile he’d had the full backing of the old man, but gradually Clayhill had seen the light and suddenly Case was gone. Several of the men sitting their horses behind Adam had given more than one thought to putting a bullet right between Case’s shoulder blades.

Pete, the young drover who had been at the house with Shorty Banes the night Rosalee’s father was killed, moved his mount close to Adam’s and they talked in low tones. Adam jerked his mount around and moved him to the side so he could see the corral.

Rosalee took a long, slow breath to steady herself. The drover had spotted Logan’s horse!

“Who does that Appaloosa belong to, girl?” Adam demanded.

“That’s none of your business.” Rosalee spoke in a low, controlled voice, but every word came out sharp as a dagger.

“Are you hiding that half-breed? Is he holed up in there?” he demanded.

“That, too, is none of your damned business!”

“Gawddamn you to hell! You’re going too far! If that buck’s in there, I want him! Hear!” he shouted and almost strangled on his anger. His face turned a deep, dark purple-red and for an endless moment he stared at the cold-eyed girl, aware, for the first time, of the lethal hatred in her face.

A bushy-faced man spurred his horse up beside Adam’s. “We can get ’im outta thar, Mr. Clayhill, if’n ya jest say the word,” he said eagerly.

“You just try it, and Clayhill dies!” Rosalee centered the rifle on Adam’s chest.

Mary’s voice cut into the tension between them. “And I’ll send a few of you to hell right along with him.”

Adam looked past Rosalee to where Mary stood in the doorway of the cabin with an old buffalo gun raised to her shoulder.

“Stay out of this!” he said roughly. “You’ve got no business butting in.”

Case was in the range of his vision. He was still standing beside the house, twirling a twig in his fingers. The mule skinner had lifted a rifle from the buggy. He stood with his finger on the trigger and the barrel pointed to the ground, but Adam knew it could be raised in a split second.

Adam’s cold, blue eyes swung back and bored into Rosalee’s. She met them unflinchingly. “You’ll regret this,” he snarled. “You’ll not always be backed by a whore with a buffalo gun. You tell that breed he’ll wish to hell he’d died in a tepee before I get through with him.”

“Ya better watch who you’re acallin’ a whore, Clayhill.” Case’s soft slurry voice had steel in it. “Put that name to her again ’n I’ll kill ya.”

Adam was startled, but to cover it he laughed nastily. “Well ... what do you know. So that’s the way the wind blows.” His eyes roamed over Mary, then looked back at Rosalee with the same chilling contempt. His lips beneath the white mustache twisted in a sneer. The knowledge that there was nothing he could do at the moment but back off was a corrosive acid inside him. The only weapon he had was insults, and he brought one up out of the acid pit inside him and spewed his venom at Rosalee. “Do you want to be fucked so bad you’ll let an Indian buck straddle you? There’s nothing lower than a white woman who’d get on her back for a piece of red ass. You should have let my boys know when you were in heat. They’d have been glad to service you.” His cold, steel blue eyes bored into hers, then suddenly he laughed. “This ought to make for some pretty good talk in town, huh boys?” He wheeled his horse, and then wheeled back. “Tell that Indian bastard to haul his red ass out of here while he’s still got an ass to haul. As for you, split-tail . . . you’d better pack up and get. I’ll be back to burn the Indian stink out of this place!” He spurred his horse cruelly and the animal leaped to a run.

Rosalee still held the heavy rifle to her shoulder. Every nerve in her body urged her to tighten her trigger finger and shoot him out of the saddle. The insults had shaken her to the very roots, but she refused to allow his cruel words make her kill. She looked at her brother and saw that his fists were clenched and there were tears of frustration in his eyes.

“If I’d a had the gun, I’d a killed him.”

Ben’s distress calmed her. She smiled at him. “Words can’t hurt me, Ben. That was the only weapon he had left, and he dipped down into his dirty mind to find something to try to hurt me.” She handed him the rifle. “That thing’s heavy. You hold it the next time we have callers.”

“I didn’t think you were ever going to speak up and say anything, Case.” Mary stood the heavy, old gun on the stock and leaned on the barrel. “This old thing isn’t even loaded and I don’t think it would fire if it was. I just snatched it off the wall.”

Case laughed and shook his head with admiration. “I’d a swore you wasn’t bluffing, Mary girl.”

“I knew Josh’s gun was loaded, and I was
sure
you’d come through in a pinch,” she said with a saucy toss of her head.

“I’d a backed ya. Ya know that, but it don’t pay to show yore hand till ya have to,” he said quietly.

Mary looked at him for what seemed an endless moment, then turned to Rosalee. “Come on in. I’ve had the devil of a time keeping this
wild Indian
in the cabin. The only thing that kept him here was the fact you were right in the line of fire and would be the first to be hit if he as much as stuck his head out the door. He’s been gnashing his teeth and pawing the floor.”

Logan had put on his breeches. He sat on the bunk, leaning over to one side, taking as much weight off his buttocks as possible. He raked his fingers up over his forehead and through his hair in frustration. His eyes fastened on Rosalee’s face with such compassion that she knew he had heard every word of Adam Clayhill’s insults.

“Case, meet Logan Horn. I bet this is the first time in his life he’s had to hang back and let other folk front his trouble. Logan, meet Case Malone. He was Clayhill’s foreman for a year or two. He was in earlier when you were asleep.” Mary made the announcement and waited.

Rosalee was grateful for Mary’s chatter. She needed time to get her thoughts together. Standing just inside the door, she saw the skeptical look cross Logan’s face before it closed off and became devoid of expression. He had never looked more Indian than at this moment. His features were as bland and cold as marble. He straightened his back, holding himself stiffly erect. Rosalee wondered where he got the strength. An hour ago he could scarcely hold up his head to drink. She felt his tension and waited anxiously to see how Case would react.

“Howdy,” Case stepped forward and held out his hand. “It goes against the grain ta have to lay back, don’t it? But I learned durin’ the war pride don’t keep a bullet from puttin’ a hole in yore head. Don’t get up.” He grinned. “I’ve seen fellers go through a Texas tornado and come out lookin’ better’n you.”

Logan hesitated for only a second, then extended his hand. Rosalee could see him relax his iron control and her shoulders slumped with relief. Mary had known how Case would react! And Case Malone had endeared himself to her for life!

“Howdy. I’ve not been in a Texas tornado, but I’ve been in a Tennessee cyclone.”

“Put ’em both in a poke ’n ya couldn’t tell the one from the other.”

“You and Mr. Malone sit down and talk to Logan, Ben. I’ll get a cold jug of milk from the spring.” Rosalee pushed her brother toward the men.

“Ma’am,” Case said quickly. “What happened out there in the yard wasn’t no play. When that old man said he’d be back he meant it. Stay near the house, near that rifle, unless yo’re planning on moving out.”

“We’re not moving out,” Rosalee retorted firmly.

“I’ll get the milk, Rosalee. Mr. Malone’s right. Pa was sure as shootin’ we didn’t have enough land for Clayhill to mess with, but seems Pa was wrong. The bastard was just bidin’ his time.”

Rosalee was proud of the way Ben spoke up. He had grown up a lot during the past few days. He had been her support and her comfort. She gazed at him with love in her eyes.

“That goes for you, too, son. Take the rifle when ya leave the house, ’n take yoreself a good look ’round afore ya step out the door. Keep yore eyes amovin’ in a circle ahead of ya. When ya get back we’d better have us a little talk.” Every eye in the room focused on Case. Rosalee’s were wide with surprise, Ben’s serious, Logan’s flat and observing, and Mary’s—she was looking at Case with her heart in her eyes.

Josh, standing in the doorway, was taking in the scene in his own quiet way. “Case is right, Ben. Ya better get used ta keepin’ a eye peeled. Yawl jest throwed down on a full deck.”

It was warm in the cabin even with the front and the back doors open so the breeze could circulate. Rosalee insisted that Logan lie down. He only lifted himself up to drink cup after cup of the sage tea that Mary was sure would break his fever. Ben and Josh carried the table back inside, and while they were out watering the stock, Mary unpacked her gift of food and arranged it on the shelves. Rosalee kept her ear tuned to the conversation between Logan and Case.

“Illinois Regulars.”

“Texas Volunteers.”

“I run up against them once.”

“Ya think Custer’ll clear the plains a redskins like he claims he will?”

“The bastard’ll try.”

A soft laugh. “You, too?”

“Me and half the Union Army. I’m surprised he hasn’t been shot in the back.”

Rosalee and Mary exchanged smiles. “They seem to like each other,” Mary whispered.

Later, after Josh and Ben came in, Mary brought up the subject that was foremost in their minds.

“Rosalee, you and your brother and sister can’t stay out here alone. I would take you home with me, but it wouldn’t be a proper place for you.”

“Ben and I will stay here. We have no choice. Our sister is over with the Haywoods and they will keep her until it’s safe for her to come back home. If we did accept Mr. Clayhill’s offer to pay us twice what our pa paid for the land, we’d be no better off because there would be no other land in this valley to buy. What would we do? Where would we go?”

Josh spoke up. “It’s like Case said, miss. Old Clayhill don’t fool around. If’n he wants this place he’ll do what it takes to get it, ’n there ain’t no law to stop ’im. If’n nothin’ else, he’ll turn that pack a dogs loose ’n they’ll be smellin’ ’round here day ’n night. There ain’t nobody there now ta hold ’im in line.” He jerked his head toward Case. “Ya won’t be able to poke yore head out the door.” He looked guardedly at Mary, but her eyes were on Case.

Rosalee glanced at Logan. He had his Indian face on again, but she could see his fists clench and unclench and knew the anger that was eating him inside.

“How many acres ya got here?” Case sat with his chair tipped against the wall. The sunlight coming through the open door shone on the gray hair at his temples and the squint creases at the corners of his eyes.

“A thousand acres, is all,” Ben said.

“Yore land borders this’n?” Case addressed his question to Logan.

“Partly along the western boundary, all along the southern.”

“Guess ya know ya got the best grazin’ in the valley,” Case said with one of his rare grins.

“I figured it,” Logan said. “I saw some of the stock that had been grazing on it. Why didn’t Clayhill buy up the range? It would only be common sense. With more and more people moving west, how could he hope to hold it?”

“I think he was agoin’ to, but he got his money tied up in fancy houses ’n trips to Europe for that girl of his. And he’d used the land for twenty years for nothin’. He figured it was his ’cause he was the first white man to ranch here. He got a mite careless ’n you slipped in ’n laid down the gold. He kept a big thumb on that Land man. He shore thought he had the range in his pocket.”

“No one stood up to him ten years ago when he cleared the valley of what he called nester trash!” Mary said quietly.

Case’s eyes flicked to Mary. He took the makings for a cigarette out of his pocket and rolled it slowly, wet the paper with his tongue, and lit it. “Are ya interested in takin’ on a foreman, Miss Spurlock?”

Rosalee’s mind was stunned to blankness by his words. Her eyes flashed to Logan’s. There was nothing in his that gave her a clue as to what he was thinking.

“You must be funning, Mr. Malone. We only have twenty head. Hardly enough for Ben to take care of.”

“In another year you might run more if Logan lets you use some of his range. If I’m agoin’ to be ’round here awhile, I might as well be doin’ somethin’.” While he spoke he was looking at Mary.

“I thought you were going back to Texas.” Mary spoke casually, but Rosalee noticed a small catch in her voice.

“Yeah. I said there wasn’t nothin’ to hold me here, but I guess there is.” He lifted his shoulders. “It’s as good a place as any.”

“Case Malone!” Mary exclaimed. “You said there was no place as good as Texas.” She was smiling and there was a faint deepening of color at the base of her throat.

“I guess I lied ’bout that. I ain’t exactly what ya’d call a saint, ya know.”

A flutter of an idea crossed Rosalee’s mind as her eyes went from Mary to Case. Then it struck her strongly that there was a current of understanding that flowed between them. Was Mary in love with him? She tucked the thought away in the back of her mind to bring out and examine more closely another time.

Logan raised up on an elbow. His fever was breaking and bead of sweat stood out on his forehead. “What kind of offer are you making her, Malone?”

“Well, now, let me see. There’s no need of cash money changin’ hands. Ben ’n me’ll work the place for the time bein’. After things’ve toned down some, I’ll bring in five hundred head and graze ’em on yore land. Yore pay will be my know-how on how to get ya set up in the ranchin’ business. I take it yore short on experience and long on book learnin’. I’m the other way ’round. I figure we’d hitch together.”