Coroner Creek by Luke; Short Page B

anger mounted in Chris’ eyes and died, and he did not answer.
    Della looked at him pleadingly, as if trying to tell him to have patience, as Mrs. Harms moved her plate aside and put both elbows on the table.
    She said now, “I suppose Della’s told you why we hired you.”
    Della put down her fork and, looking at Chris, said, “He’s here to fight Younger Miles, mother. He understands that.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t say that, Della,” Mrs. Harms said quietly. “It’s just that—Well, it never hurts to carry a big stick.”
    â€œChris is here, mother, to keep what we’ve got and get back what’s ours. Let’s not pretend,” Della said firmly.
    Mrs. Harms shook her head. “You make it sound as if we’ve gone out of our way to hunt trouble.”
    Chris said quietly, “You have, Mrs. Harms. If Della hasn’t told you that, she should. I’m trouble. And she asked me to come. I didn’t ask her.”
    She looked at him for a long moment, and his gray gaze didn’t falter. It was Mrs. Harms who looked away first, and there was a quiet despair in her eyes. She rose and went into the house and Della, watching her, half started out of her chair and then settled back. There was a stubbornness in her face now as she went on eating, and Chris thought grimly, She won’t like any of it, Della .
    A pair of riders passed under the big cottonwood and Della looked out and saw them and called, “Mother, Leach and Andy are in.”
    There was no answer. Chris excused himself the second time, and now Della rose with him. “Come out and meet them,” she said.
    As they stepped out of the lean-to into the sun and headed for the corral, Della’s face was somber, and Chris knew she was thinking of her mother and of the decision her mother couldn’t face.
    Presently she said gently, “Chris, there’s just one thing you’ve got to promise in all this. I’ll take your word for it.”
    Chris waited, wondering what this new condition would be.
    â€œThat you’ll finish this with Rainbow. I don’t know why you hate Younger Miles, and I don’t care. And I don’t care what it costs us, but, in the end, you’ve got to leave us safe.”
    Chris was silent a few steps, pondering this, and then he said, “I’ll promise that,” and made his condition. “If you move your mother to town, Della, I’ll promise it.”
    Della looked swiftly up at him, something like fright in her eyes, and did not answer.
    The two riders had turned their horses into the corral and were coming toward the house. The smaller man was the older, and Chris didn’t even look at him but watched the tall man with the big hands. As they came closer, Chris’ hopes suddenly died. The big man was in his middle thirties and wore clean, wash-faded levis and calico shirt. He had an open, simple face, and nothing showed in it except the placidity of a drudge. Chris had seen his kind, the hired man of the Kansas homesteads who plows another man’s fields for thirty years in order to get a field of his own where he dies, questioning nothing.
    The other man was different, and when they halted before Della, it was this man she introduced first.
    â€œChris, this is Leach Conover. And Andy West. Boys, this is Chris Danning, our new foreman.”
    Leach put out his hand, but it was done reluctantly, and an immediate hostility crept into his eyes. His browned face under his high-crowned Stetson was old with the lines of defeat and forgotten bitterness. A tired old dog lying in the sun , Chris thought without pity, for he knew Leach liked his life and himself the way they were, comfortable and forgotten.
    Andy West said, as he shook hands, “You’re workin’ for a wonderful boss, Mr. Danning.”
    â€œYes,” Chris said.
    Leach was eyeing Della almost with accusation but she did not see it.
    She said