Texas Lucky (41 page)

“I’m a cowpoke. Not no injun fighter.”

“That’s right. I hired on to tend cattle, not get killed fightin’ injuns.”

“That’s the Army’s job. Not mine.”

“If I’d wanted to get scalped, I’d have joined the blue bellies.”

“I’ll quit if you try to make me go, dammit.”

“Hell, she ain’t makin’ me…”

Tess was standing up on the back of a buckboard, dismayed by the sea of hostile faces before her.

Except for Granger.

Stepping forward, he climbed up on the buckboard and waved his arms at the men for silence.

The shouting stopped, but they continued to grumble softly among themselves.

“Now you all listen up here,” Granger said, sweeping them with a biting glare. “Miss Tess needs our help. The army’s let her down, and she don’t have nobody but us. Now, if we all join in, we can get in and out of that Indian camp before they know what hit ’em. But it’s gonna take all of us. And we might even try to get some boys to go with us from other ranches, like the Lucky 13.”

Tess cringed at the thought of asking Curt for help and vowed never to do so. He had used her for the last time, and she would be damned if she would let him back into her life for any reason.

Granger went on to challenge, “So how many of you can we count on? Step forward.

“And by the way,” he added with a warning sneer, “I think I speak for Miss Tess when I say those of you who ain’t willin’ to step forward can pack your gear and hit the trail. We don’t need no cowards around here.”

Tess clenched her hands at her sides and gritted her teeth as she looked from hostile face to skeptical face and prayed someone would take a step forward and shame the others into following suit.

She also did not want to fire anyone who refused to go along but was not about to dispute Granger’s stand when he had been so quick with his support.

And then Nick stepped from the crowd.

Tess was not surprised. Nick was Granger’s right-hand man.

Then two others joined him, and another and another.

She was heartened and dared hope all the men would want to save face by going along with their peers.

But then the wind of hope died away as those remaining began an exodus in the opposite direction—toward the bunkhouse, accepting Granger’s ultimatum to get their things and leave.

“Six men ain’t enough,” Granger said with a doleful shake of his head. “We need more.”

Tess was disappointed but undaunted. “Homer will make seven, and I can handle a gun, so there will be eight of us.”

“Against probably a hundred Indians.” Granger frowned. “It just ain’t enough. You’re gonna have to hire some guns. I’ll ride into Dallas and see how many I can round up, and…” Seeing the look on her face, he trailed off, then figured out the reason and said, almost accusingly, “You ain’t got the money, have you? It’s true what I heard, ain’t it? About Mr. Thorpe owin’ a big gamblin’ debt to that high falutin’ Cattleman’s Club he belonged to.”

Before Tess could respond, Homer whined, “I ain’t riskin’ my life if you can’t pay me the reward.”

“You’ll get your reward,” she assured him.

One of the hands boldly asked, “You gonna be able to pay our wages?”

“Yes, yes.” She waved her arms, frustrated by having everyone’s attention suddenly turn to money rather than the urgency of the situation facing them. “I can manage to keep the ranch going as it is. There just isn’t money for a lot of things I’d planned on—like buying some of the Peterson land. But that doesn’t matter now. We have to get ready to leave as quick as we can.”

One of the others snorted. “With seven men and a woman? We ain’t got much of a chance.”

“We do if we take them by surprise and hold them at bay with our shotguns and rifles, then take Perry and get out of there fast,” Tess said confidently. “We can scatter their horses so they can’t follow us and maybe take hostages and promise to let them go as soon as we’re safely on our way.”

“I don’t speak a damn word of Apache to tell them that,” Granger said hotly, then glanced about to ask, “Can anybody?”

No one said anything.

But Tess was not to be dissuaded. “Maybe Perry has learned enough that he can communicate with them. Or we’ll use sign language…anything. We can do it, Granger. I know we can. We have to—or my brother is doomed.”

“As we might be,” Granger glumly pointed out. “But if you’re hell-bent to go, I’m with you.”

“Yeah, and I reckon we are, too,” one of the hands said, with the others chiming in to agree.

“Then let’s get ready,” Tess cried, cheeks flushed with the fire of courage and determination. “We can start out tonight and ride as far as we dare. Homer, how long will it take us to get there?”

He scratched his head. “Well, trottin’ steady except to stop and rest the horses now and then—as well as ourselves, ’cause we can’t risk movin’ at night once we reach Indian territory, anyway—I’d say we can make it in two days or so.”

 
“Good.” She turned to Granger. “You see to it that we have plenty of guns and ammunition, and I’ll have the cook get supplies together that we can pack in our saddlebags.”

She took off running toward the house.

Granger caught up with her. “While you’re getting ready, I’m going to ride over to the Lucky 13 and talk to Hammond and see if some of his men are willing to go with us. I’ll tell him what’s happened, and I’m sure he’ll help out if he can. He might even go himself, and—”

“No.”

She realized he was taken aback and immediately mellowed and framed her explanation carefully, so he wouldn’t wonder whether her opposition was motivated by something personal. “You’d be wasting time, Granger. Precious time. Because we’ll be ready to ride before you can get back. And the chances are none of them would join us, anyway. Why should they? I can’t pay them, not if I’m to have enough for the reward and make it till we get the steers to market in the spring.”

“Well, I’d like to try,” he said. “Some of ’em might be willing to go just for the chance to kill some Indians.”

“We aren’t going to kill them unless we have to, Granger.”

He was chewing tobacco and paused to turn his head and spit. Wiping his hand across his mouth, he looked her up and down and said, careful to keep his tone respectful, “I want you to know I think you’ve done a hell of a job keepin’ this place goin’, Miss Tess. There might’ve been some that thought you couldn’t do it alone, but you proved ’em wrong, ’cause you’re a strong woman, and you ain’t no quitter. But I think me and you need to get one thing straight between us if we’re to get along through all this.”

“Go on,” she said warily.

“I hate Indians, and if I get a chance to blow one to hell, I intend do it.”

Tess went rigid, stretching to her full height, short though she was, in an attempt to look him as straight in the eyes as she could to fiercely declare, “This is not going to be a slaughter, Granger. Nor a raid. We are going to rescue my brother without firing a shot, if possible.”

“Well, it ain’t possible.” He spat again. “And if you knew anything at all about Indians—Apaches—you’d know they’re gonna go plumb crazy when they see us, and there won’t be no reasoning, no sign language, no nothing. They’re going to try to kill us.

“And yes,” he went on, “we’ve got to take ’em by surprise, all right, but we’ve also got to go in shootin’ every one we can, and—”

“Hold it, Granger.” Tess held up her hand. “If we have to kill any to get my brother out of there, so be it. But I want to make it clear to you and the others that there will be no unnecessary killing.”

“Well, I’ll sure pass that message along, but I can’t guarantee they’ll listen.”

“You see that they do. I’m counting on you, Granger.” She started to walk away again but turned and called, “One other thing. I want you to know I appreciate your sticking by me. Come spring, when the steers are sold, I’ll see that you and the others get a nice bonus.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, I’m gonna try real hard to stay alive to see that you keep that promise, Miss Tess.

“And you see to it you do the same,” he added with a wink…but his eyes were grave.

Curt ran his hand along the mare’s belly.

It was too soon to tell for sure, but he was almost certain she was in foal.

If not, he would just have to wait till spring and find another stud, because he was not about to approach Tess to ask that Saber service the mare again.

The fact was, he didn’t intend to approach her ever again about anything—except to keep his word about giving her the colt, if there was one, and he intended to dispatch Caleb to do that.

And if the mare wasn’t in foal now, he would just try to find the money somehow to pay Tess the money he owed her.

Other than that, he wanted no part of her, not after she told him about her and Granger.

He stroked the mare almost roughly as he wondered what the hell she saw in that yahoo. Big and burly and not in the least good-looking, Granger also wasn’t too smart. But probably he had been there when Tess needed somebody, and that’s all it took.

Still, Curt argued with himself, that she might have gotten involved with Granger to get back at him because she thought he was fooling around with Sanchina.

And what a damn fool he had been to pull a stunt like that.

And an even
bigger
fool to think he could get over Tess no matter how hard he tried.

So he wanted to go far away from her, because he couldn’t bear to be near her knowing he’d never again hold her in his arms…while another man would.

Curt tried not to be obvious about pumping Caleb for gossip every time he went to Gilley’s saloon or anywhere else men gathered to drink and talk loose. He wanted to find out whether anyone knew about her and Granger, but evidently they were being careful, because Caleb never said a word—and he would have. Caleb was worse than women gathered at a well when it came to gossip.

Curt knew he should have been honest with Tess and confided exactly how he felt about her and how loving her as he did meant he couldn’t settle for an affair.

And he should also have given her the chance to choose between him and marriage to somebody she didn’t love and never would, because he liked to think she cared about him, too—then, anyway.

Only now he would never know.

As for going to see her the last night of the wake, he had already made up his mind before he heard about Wendell to tell her everything. So he had actually wanted to go sooner but knew there would be a crowd in the beginning.

He had been well aware that the chances were against her believing him, as well as figuring he was, as she had put it, trying to worm his way back into her life because her husband was dead.

But he’d had to try…and failed.

Just then, Caleb walked in the barn. Seeing Curt with the mare, he asked, “Well, did it take?”

“Don’t know yet, but I’m hoping.”

“Miz Thorpe still get the colt?”

Curt had told Caleb about the deal. After all, his foreman knew better than anyone else how losing so much of his herd to disease had almost wiped him out financially. “I’m afraid so. I haven’t found any other way to pay my debt.”

“Well, she’ll get a good price for it.”

“She won’t sell it. Wendell wanted the colt to help her get started raising quarterhorses of her own. I see no reason for her to change her mind because he’s dead.”

Caleb snorted. “From what I hear, a whole lot of things are gonna be changing over there.”

“In what way?” Caleb might carry tales, but Curt had to admit they were usually true.

“There’s a rumor old Wendell didn’t leave her a rich widow like everybody thinks, on account of his gambling.”

Curt was sorry to hear it but figured Tess would do all right and said as much, pointing out that with the size of her herd even a bad winter would not wipe her out.

The clanging of a bell sounded time for lunch, and as they left the barn, Caleb grumbled, “That new cook you hired is nowhere near as good as Sanchina was. His chicken tastes like bird doo, and—”

Curt laughed and slapped him on the back. “Now, how would you know unless you’ve eaten bird doo?”

“Well, if I was to eat it, I’d bet that’s just what it would taste like, and—” he looked toward the road. “Looks like strangers coming in.”

Curt squinted against the sun but did not recognize either of the two men on horseback.

But as they drew closer, Caleb did and said, “Hey, that’s Wally Purdee and Charlie O’Dell from the Thorpe place. I’ve seen ’em at Gilley’s a couple of times. Wonder what they want.”

Curt walked over to meet them.

Caleb introduced the men to Curt.

“What can I do for you boys?” Curt asked after shaking their hands in turn.

Charlie replied, “Put us to work, we hope.”

“Told you,” Caleb said, digging his elbow in Curt’s side. “The widow can’t afford to keep all her hands now.”

“Oh, that’s not the problem,” Charlie was quick to explain. “She can pay us, all right. The thing is, she don’t want to pay us to punch cows.”