Riders Of the Dawn (1980) (9 page)

"Sabre, I've no reason to like you, but you are my daughter'
s guest and you talk straight from the shoulder. Remain as lon g as you like."

Park started to speak, but realized he could do nothing.

He turned his heavy head, staring at me from under heav y brows. That gaze was cold and deadly. "We can settle ou r differences elsewhere, Sabre."

Olga was worried when we got outside. "You shouldn'
t have come, Matt. There'll be trouble. Morgan is a bad enemy."

"He was my enemy, anyway. That he is a bad enemy, I k now. I think another friend of yours found that out."

She looked up quickly, real fear in her eyes. "What d o you mean?"

"Your friend D'Arcy. He comes of a family that does no t frighten easily. Did you ever have a note of acknowledgmen t from him?"

"No."

"Strange. I'd have said such a man would never neglec t such an obvious courtesy."

We stood together, then, looking out at the night an d the desert, no words between us but needing no words, ou r hearts beating together, our blood moving together, feelin g the newness of love discovered. The cottonwood leaves brushe d their pale green hands together, and their muted whisperin g seemed in tune with our own thoughts. This was my woman , the one I would walk down the years with. The leaves sai d that and my blood said it, and I knew the same thoughts wer e in her, reluctant as she might be to admit it.

"This trouble will pass," I said softly, "as the night wil l pass, and when it has gone, and the winds have blown th e dust away, then I shall take you to Cottonwood Wash--t o live." Her hand stayed in mine, and I continued. "We'll buil d something there to last down the years until this will all see m a bad dream, a nightmare dissipated by the morning sunlight."

"But could you ever settle down? Could you stay?"

"Of course. Men don't wander for the love only o f wandering, they wander because they are in search of something. A place of one's own, a girl, a job accomplished. It i s only you who has mattered since the day I rode into th e streets of Hattan's Point and saw you there."

Turning toward her, I took her by the elbows. He r breath caught and then came quickly and deeply. Her lip s parted slightly as she came into my arms, and I felt her war m body melt against mine, and her lips were warm and seeking , urgent, passionate. My fingers ran into her hair and along he r scalp, and her kisses hurt my lips as mine must have hur t hers. All the fighting, all the waiting, melted into nothingnes s then.

She pulled back suddenly, frightened yet excited, he r breasts rising and falling as she fought for control. "This isn'
t good! We're--we're too violent. We've got to be more calm."

I laughed then, full of the zest of living and loving an d seeing the glory of her there in the moonlight. I laughed an d took her arms again. "You're not exactly a calm person."

"I?" A flush darkened her face. "Well, all right then.

Neither of us is calm."

"Need we be?" My hands reached for her, and then I h eard someone whistling. Irritably, I looked up to hear fee t grating on the gravel path.

It was Canaval. "Better ride," he said. "I wouldn't put i t past Park to drygulch a man."

"Canaval!' Olga protested. "How can you say that?"

His slow eyes, turned to her. "You think so too, ma'am.

You always was an uncommon smart girl. You've known hi m for what he was for a mighty long time." He turned back t o me. "Mean what you said back there? About peace and all?"

"You bet I did. What can we gain by fighting?"

"You're right," Canaval agreed; "but there'll be bloodshed before it's over. Pinder won't quit. He hated Ru d Maclaren, and now he hates you. He won't back up or quit."

Canaval turned to Olga. "Let me talk to Sabre alone, wil l you? There's something he should know."

"All right." She gave me her hand. "Be careful. An d goodnight.'

We watched her walk back up the path, and when m y eyes turned back to him, his were surprisingly soft. I coul d see his expression even in the moonlight. "Reminds me o f her mother," he said quietly.

"You knew her?" I was surprised.

"She was my sister."

That was something I could never have guessed. "Sh e doesn't know," he explained. "Rud and I used to ride together. I was too fast with a gun and killed a man with to o many relatives. I left and Rud married my sister. From tim e to time we wrote, and when Rud was having trouble wit h rustlers, I came out to lend a hand. He persuaded me t o stay.

He looked around at me. "One thing more. What di d you mean about the Slades?"

So I told him in detail of my trip to Silver Reef, th e killing of Lyell and the conversation I'd overheard betwee n Park and Booker. Where I had heard the conversation I di d not tell him. I only said there was some deal between the tw o of them that depended upon results to be obtained by Morgan Park.

It was after midnight when I finally left the Bar M
, turning off the main trail and cutting across country for th e head of Gypsum Canyon.

Mulvaney was waiting for me. "Knowed the horse's walk,"
h e explained. Nodding toward the hills, he added. ''Too quie t out there."

The night was clear, wide, and peaceful. Later durin g the night, I awakened with a start, the sound of a shot ringin g in my ears. Mulvaney was sleeping soundly, so I did no t disturb him. Afterward, all was quiet, so I dropped off t o sleep once more.

In the morning I mentioned it to Mulvaney.

"Did you get up?" he asked.

"Yeah. Went out in the yard and listened, but hear d nothing more. Could have been a hunter. Maybe one of th e Benaras boys."

Two hours later I knew better. Riding past Maveric k Spring I saw a riderless horse grazing near a dark bundle tha t lay on the grass. The dark bundle was Rud Maclaren, and h e was dead.

He had been shot twice from behind, both shots throug h the head.

He was sprawled on his face, both hands above his head , one knee drawn up. Both guns were in their holsters, and hi s belt gun was tied down. After one look I stood back and fire d three shots as a signal to Mulvaney.

When he saw Maclaren, his face went white and h e looked up. "You shouldn't have done it, boy. The countr y hated him but they respected him, too. They'll hang a ma n for this!"

"Don't be foolish!" I was irritated, but appalled, too. "I d idn't do this! Feel of him! It must have been that shot I h eard last night."

"He's cold, all right. This'll blow the lid off, Matt. You'
d best rig a story for them. And it had better be good!"

"No rigging. Ill tell the truth."

"They'll hang you, Matt. They'll never believe you didn'
t do it." He waved a hand around. "He's on your place. Th e two of you have been feudin'. They'll say you shot him in th e back."

Standing over the body with the words of Mulvaney i n my ears, I could see with piercing clarity the situation I wa s in. What could he have been doing here? Why would h e come to my ranch in the middle of the night?

I could see their accusing eyes when the death wa s reported, the shock to Olga, the reaction of the people, th e accusations of Park. Somebody wanted Maclaren dead enoug h to shoot him in the back. Who?

Chapter
8

Strangely, the morning was cool with a hint of rain. Mulvaney , at my request, had gone to the Bar M to tell Canaval of th e killing, and it was up to Canaval to tell Olga. I did not like t o think of that. My luck held in one sense, for Jolly Benara s came riding up the wash, and I asked him to ride to Hattan'
s to report to Key Chapin.

Covering the body with a tarp, I mounted and began t o scout the area. How much time I had, I did not know, but i t could not be much. Soon they would be arriving from Hattan's , and even sooner from the Bar M. One thing puzzled me.

There had been but one shot fired, but there were two bulle t holes in Maclaren's skull.

Carefully, I examined the sand under the body .
And was struck by a curious thing. There was no blood! None on th e sand, that is. There was plenty of blood on Rud himself, bu t all of it, strangely enough, seemed to come from one bulle t hole!

* There was a confusion of tracks where his horse ha d moved about while he lay there on the ground, but at thi s point the wash was sandy, and no definite track could b e distinguished. Then horses' hoofs sounded, and I looked u p to see five riders coming toward me. The nearest was Canaval , and beside him, Olga. The others were all Bar M riders, an d from one glance at their faces I knew there was no doubt i n their minds and little reason for speculation that I had kille d Rud Maclaren.

Canaval drew up, and his eyes pierced mine, cold, calculating, and shrewd. Olga threw herself from her horse an d ran to the still form on the ground. She had refused to mee t my eyes or to notice me.

"This looks bad, Canaval. When did he leave the ranch?"

He studied me carefully, as if he were seeing me for th e first time. "I don't know, exactly," he said. "No one hear d him go. He must have pulled out sometime after two thi s morning."

"The shot I heard was close to four."

"One shot?"

"Only one--but he's been shot twice." Hesitating a little, I asked, "Who was with him when you last saw him?"

"He was alone. If it's Morgan Park, you are thinkin' of , forget it. He left right after you did. When I last saw Rud h e was goin' to his room, feelin mighty sleepy."

The Bar M riders were circling around. Their faces wer e cold, and they started an icy chill coming up my spine. Thes e men were utterly loyal, utterly ruthless when aroused. Th e night before, they had given me the benefit of the doubt, bu t now they saw no reason to think of any other solution but th e obvious one.

Tom Fox, a lean, hard-bitten Bar M man, was staring a t me. Coolly, he took a rope from his pommel. "What w e waitin' for, men?" he asked bitterly, "There's our man."

Turning, I said, "Fox, from what I hear you're a goo d man and a good hand. Don't jump to any hasty conclusions. I d idn't kill Rud Maclaren and had no reason to. We mad e peace talk last night an' parted in good spirits."

Fox looked up at Canaval. "That right?"

Canaval hesitated, his expression unchanging. Then h e spoke clearly. "It is--but Rud Maclaren changed his min d afterward!"

"Changed his mind?" That I couldn't believe, yet at th e expression in Canaval's eyes, I knew he was speaking th e truth. "Even so," I added, "how could I be expected to kno w that? When I left, all was friendly."

"You couldn't know it," Canaval agreed, "unless he go t out of bed an' came to tell you. He might have done that, an d I can think of no other reason for him to come here. He cam e to tell you--an' you killed him when he started away."

The hands growled and Fox shook out a loop. It wa s Olga who stopped them. "No! Wait until the others arrive. I f he killed my father, I want him to die! But wait until th e others come!"

Reluctantly, Fox drew in his rope and coiled it. Swea t broke out on my forehead. I could fight, and I would if i t came to that, but these men only believed they were doin g the right thing. They had no idea that I was innocent. M
y mouth was dry and my hands felt cold. I tried to catch Olga'
s eye but she ignored me. Canaval seemed studying abou t something, but he did not speak a word.

The first one to arrive was Key Chapin, and behind hi m a dozen other men. He looked at me, a quick, worrie d glance, and then looked at Canaval. Without waiting fo r questions, the foreman quietly repeated what had happened , telling of the entire evening, facts that could not until the n have been known to the men.

"There's one thing," I said suddenly, "that I want to cal l to your attention."

They looked at me, but there was not a friendly eye i n the lot of them. Looking around the circle of their faces, I fel t a cold sinking in my stomach, -and a feeling came over me.

Matt Sabre, I was telling myself, this is the end. You've com e to it at last, and you'll hang for another man's crime.

Not one friendly face--and Mulvaney had not returne d with the Bar M riders. There was no sign of Jolly Benaras.

"Chapin," I asked, "will you turn Maclaren over?"

The request puzzled him, and they looked from me t o the covered body and then to Chapin. He swung down an d walked across to the dead man. I heard Olga's breath catch , and then Chapin rolled Maclaren on his back.

He straightened up then, still puzzled. The others looke d blankly at me.

"The reason you are so quick to accuse me is that he i s here, on my ranch. Well, he was not killed here. There's n o blood on the ground!"

Startled, they all looked. Before any comment could b e made, I continued. "One of the wounds bled badly, and th e front of his shirt is dark with blood. The sand would be too, i f he'd been killed here. What I am saying is that he was kille d elsewhere and then carried here!"

"But why?" Chapin protested.

Canaval said, "You mean to throw guilt onto you?"