Mary Connealy (35 page)

“What’s this really about, Mason?” Harley asked calmly. “You know there’s no way you can take that land now. You’re a known outlaw in these parts.”

“That ain’t news, Harley,” Judd sneered.

“Then why hang around? You’ve got a lot of money in your saddle bags. You’ve got your whole share and the share of every member of this gang who has lit out. There’s nothing for us here ’cept a bullet or a noose.”

“I’m not leaving without paying McClellen back for taking my land.” The mustang reared up, fighting Judd’s hard hand. “I avenge a wrong done to me.”

“Judd, no wrong has been done to you.
You
killed Edwards.
You
killed the Meads.
You
plotted the murder of McClellen and his wife. You’ve handed out all the wrong in this mess. You don’t need to get revenge against McClellen. That’s just your pride talking, and pride won’t stop a bullet.”

Judd turned red in the face and his mule-headedness kicked in full bore. He shouted over his shoulder, “Men!”

The rest of the vigilantes rode into the clearing.

“Harley wants to cut and run.”

Eli rode his horse up beside Judd, showing his loyalty. One by one the men, most of them showing far less assurance than Eli, rode to Judd’s side, spreading out, mindful of Harley’s quick hand with a gun, until they’d formed a circle around Harley.

Judd knew Harley Shafter was nobody’s fool. He wasn’t about to challenge the whole gang. Harley kept his hands held loosely on his saddle horn. Judd knew it was so no one could make the mistake of thinking Harley was going for his gun.

“I see you all don’t share my view.” Harley watched them with cool eyes.

Seven tough men sat silently, waiting for a wrong move from Harley.

Harley kept his voice calm and his eyes flat. “If you’re all still in, I’m in.”

The moment strung itself out, until abruptly Judd relaxed. “I’m glad to hear you’re still with us, Harley.” His voice was ice cold when he spoke.

He turned to Eli, who’d been gone most of the last two days. “Did you take the horses and hide them out where I said?”

“They’re waitin’, boss”—Eli nodded—“right up top of Sawyer Canyon.”

“Okay, then it’s time for a little plan I have in mind that should settle things between me and the McClellens. Then”—he looked square at Harley—“
after
I’ve done for the McClellens, we’ll leave this lousy country and go find us some ranch land.”

Harley fell into line with Judd leading and Eli bringing up the rear.

“Ma, isn’t that one of the sheriff’s deputies?” Beth came in from sweeping the front porch.

Sophie hurried to the door in time to see a man come charging into the ranch yard. “Yes, I recognize him from last Saturday.”

There was an urgency about the way the man rode that sent Sophie to the edge of the porch. The man ignored her. He galloped on past the house toward a pair of men herding the cattle. The deputy talked to the men, then rode off into a valley where Sophie knew there were more cattle.

“What do you reckon he wants, Ma?” Mandy tugged on Sophie’s skirt.

Sophie heard the fear in her daughter’s voice and regretted all the girls had been through. “I guess he just wants to talk to the men, not us.” Sophie hoped Mandy wouldn’t notice she hadn’t answered her question.

Sophie looked around the corral and barn. There’d been someone close-up all day, working on repairs she’d been itching to get at ever since they’d moved back. Having someone else do things for her was a luxury.

“I don’t see any of the men who’ve been guarding the house.” Sally came out and went down the porch steps, looking all around.

It struck Sophie as odd. Clay had been in and out of the house a dozen times. She’d made extra coffee because Luther, Buff, and Adam had stopped in to talk more than once. She’d also offered it to the hands and had a few takers, although they had their own pot brewing in the bunkhouse.

She’d even had Clay bring in several grouse for supper when she hadn’t thought to put hunting on her list. She hadn’t needed to leave the house all day, and at Clay’s insistence, she’d taken a nap after the midday meal, with Laura nestled at her side.

Sophie and the girls kept watching the direction the deputy had gone. After several tense moments, Clay came galloping back toward the ranch house with the deputy at his side. He swung down off his horse and strode toward the cabin.

“What is it, Clay?” Sophie expected the worst. All four girls edged up beside her to hear whatever Clay had to say.

“The sheriff has Mason cornered in the rocks a few miles south of here. The posse he has with him saw the whole gang ride into a box canyon.”

“That’s got to be Sawyer Canyon. It’s the only dead-end canyon in that direction.”

Clay nodded. “Sawyer Canyon. That’s the name Deputy MacNeal used. They chased them in there last night. The sheriff has the only way out blocked, but Mason and his men are undercover. The sheriff isn’t going to risk any lives staging some kind of assault. He’s planning to wait them out. He wants me to send as many hands as I can spare to spell his men.”

Sophie heaved a sigh of relief and hurled herself into Clay’s arms. “It’s over then. Finally. All but this last showdown.”

Clay held her tight. “Yes, it sounds like it’s finally over.”

Sophie squeezed her husband tight for a long second, then released him and stepped back. “Of course we need to send help. There—there won’t be any shooting will there?”

“The sheriff hopes to take the gang without anyone getting hurt,” Clay said soberly. “But Mason is facing a noose.”

“He won’t come out with his hands up.” Sophie tried to steady her nerves.

Clay pulled his leather gloves off his hands and tucked them behind his belt buckle. He brushed Sophie’s hair back with one hand. “We won’t be reckless. We won’t trust him for a minute.”

“Do you have to go?” As soon as she said it she was ashamed. She covered her mouth quickly with one hand, wishing she could call back the words.

“Sophie, I can’t ask my men to go do something I’m not willing to do.”

“I know,” Sophie whispered. “I know. If you could, you wouldn’t be the man you are.”

Clay nodded. “I’m leaving six men behind to guard the ranch. That should be plenty. We’ll stay at the canyon for a while, then when the sheriff’s posse is rested, we’ll come back to eat and sleep. It may be awhile. We don’t know what supplies Mason has. He could stay holed up for a long time.”

“Like a siege,” Sophie said.

Clay caressed her face again. “And like a siege, there’ll be a lot of waiting but not much fighting.”

Sophie leaned into his hand. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Clay grinned at her. “I wouldn’t be able to go if you hadn’t said that.”

The girls had lined up beside her, and now in a rush, they all said, “Good-bye, Pa. Be careful.”

He gave them each a quick kiss on the forehead. “I will.”

He turned just as Adam came out of the barn, leading two horses. Clay walked to the horse and swung himself up. Adam mounted his roan at the same time. Clay waved and Adam tugged the brim of his hat and they rode away, the deputy leading.

A group of the hands, including Luther, came riding around from the corral and fell into a line behind Clay.

Sophie didn’t see Whitey in amongst them, but then she didn’t see much through her tears. She had a sudden flash of the memory of Cliff riding off to war. It had been the saddest day of her life. He’d come back, but he’d been changed, his youthful charm forever wiped away by the brutality of war.

This was nothing by comparison. Still, Clay’s retreating back brought a wash of tears to her eyes, and she sent him along with a prayer for God to protect him. She prayed it fervently and remembered how Luther and Adam had been tuned in to her prayers. “Yes, Lord,” she murmured, “help him.”

She saw Luther look back over his shoulder and tip his hat to her. She smiled. She pushed back the tears and waved cheerfully. Luther shook his head like he thought she was getting to be a plumb nuisance.

“Nuisance or not, I’m not about to quit praying, Luther.”

He was too far away to hear her, but somehow she thought he’d gotten the message.

Whitey and Buff came around the corner of the cabin just then. Sophie looked at the two of them. They’d been forged in different fires. Buff in the bitter cold mountains, Whitey in the heat and dust of a hundred Texas cattle ranches. But they had been burned down to the same hard iron. Sophie was glad they were here, and at the same time she wished they were with Clay, watching his back.

“I’m posting Andy, Luke, Rio, and Miguel in the hills as lookouts,” Whitey called out to her. “They’ll all have a clear view of the ranch, and they can be down in a five minutes. Buff and me’ll stay up close. It sounds like they’ve got all of Mason’s men treed, but no one really knows how many were riding with him. There could be others skulking about. There are plenty of us to keep watch but not ’nough to do much else. The boss said to tell you we’ll need a meal, ma’am. Iffen you don’t mind feeding us.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Sophie hastened to assure him.

Whitey gave a satisfied jerk of his head. “We’ll eat in shifts.”

Sophie said, “Supper will be ready for the first shift in half an hour.”

“Obliged, ma’am.” Whitey headed back to the bunkhouse.

Buff lagged behind and turned to Sophie when Whitey disappeared around the cabin. “Prepare for the worst an’ you’ve got a right to hope for the best. That’s what we’re doing here, Miz McClellen.”

Sophie smiled at Buff. It was the longest speech she’d ever heard him give. “I’ll do the same, Mr. Buff.”

Buff ducked his head. “Ah, Miz McClellen, it’s just Buff. There ain’t no mister about it.”

“It’s just Sophie, Buff. You’re my husband’s good friend, and I’d be pleased if you called me that.”

“Ain’t likely I’ll ever call you much’a nothin’.” Buff jerked one shoulder.

Sophie smiled. “Well, just in case you do…”

Buff nodded and almost managed a smile, but Sophie thought his face seemed close to cracking. He stopped the smile, grunted at her, then turned and followed Whitey.

C
lay rode away, trying to make peace with leaving Sophie and the girls. He wanted to stay and watch after them himself, but he also had a powerful urge to help the sheriff clean up the mess that surrounded the McClellen/Edwards ranch.

The group rode to Sawyer Canyon at an easy lope that spared the horses, while making good time. As they drew nearer, Clay’s tension increased. It didn’t help that he rode alongside Adam. The black man wound tighter and tighter until Clay half expected the man to explode. He urged his horse closer to Adam’s. “We’re not going into this looking for revenge.”

“I know that.” Adam’s jaw was so tense it barely moved when he spoke.

The summer breeze sifted the dust being kicked up by the riders ahead of them. “Ever since you heard they had Mason cornered, you’ve had the look of a man ready to go charging in, guns blazing, to get that payback you’ve been wanting.”

Adam looked at Clay.

Clay was stunned by the cold fury in his eyes.

“I didn’t come out here looking to mess up the sheriff’s standoff,” Adam said. “I know how this is going to go down.”

“And you can live with that?” Clay drew in a long breath, as he silently asked himself the same question. The smell of the Texas dirt and the working horses steadied his temper. “You can sit and wait until Mason gives himself up?”

“I haven’t led the easiest life, Clay. I was a free black man living in the South before slavery ended.” Adam gave a humorless laugh. “To protect a young girl I love as if she were my own daughter, I put up with a man who used me to survive and hated me for it.”

“My brother?”

Adam didn’t answer. Clay wondered how much Sophie had whitewashed Cliff’s true nature out of kindness.

“I fought for the North,” Adam went on as if Clay hadn’t interrupted. “Many’s the time I stood and fought with men who gave me less respect than they gave their horses. I rode the borders of Indian territory, rounding up longhorn cattle that were three and four generations wild and as mean as any grizzly bear you’ve ever heard tell of.”

Adam subsided for a moment, then he added, with an icy rage that was more frightening for being spoken quietly, “I watched my friends die at the hands of thieving cowards. And I walked barefoot three hundred miles with my back lashed open and a bullet wound in my side. So don’t ask me if I can live with watching a man being hanged when I want him to die by my own hand.”

Adam inhaled deeply. “I’ve found out I can live with purt’ near anything. I know what I want is wrong. I’m a man who walked halfway across an almighty big state because God let me hear a woman’s prayers. I know right and wrong. I know the hate burning in me is sin.”

“And yet,” Clay said, “I can see the fight inside you to control your desire for vengeance.”

“Yeah, I ain’t doing a very good job of covering it up.”

“I have my own need to hurt these men.” Clay tightened his grip on the reins, and his horse whickered in protest. He forced his hand to relax. “They killed my brother and threatened my wife.”