Wagon. Two horsemen were waiting at the forks: Bill and Hub Dawes.
Kirby could see instantly that Bill had been drinking, to what extent it was hard to tell. Dawes sat his horse in silence, a sneer on his face. Bill held up his hand as they approached. He looked directly at Jen, ignoring the other riders. He swept off his hat, and Kirby felt disgust as he took in the matted, uncombed hair and unshaven cheeks. Bill's speech was thick.
"Heard at the livery you was goin' to Wagon," he said to Jen. "You going to stay?"
Her reply was firm, a little pitying. "It's a good place to get well, Bill," she answered.
His voice was harsh. "You made a choice back there in town, didn't you?"
She said nothing; her eyes locked with his.
"Reckon you did." A spasm of something like pain crossed his face. "Nothing I can do about that. But there is something I can do… I can give you a warning. Don't think you and him will ever have Wagon. It's going to be mine. No one is going to get in my way, not even you. Just remember this: bullets make quick widows." He jerked savagely on his reins and gigged his horse into a dead run so quickly that Kirby never had a chance to speak. Dawes followed, an ugly laugh floating over his shoulder.
Josh attempted to break the shocked silence. "He was drunk," he said to no one in particular. Curly clucked to the team. "Git up, horses." The little party felt the constraint the rest of the way in to headquarters, and as if in keeping with their somber mood, the sun disappeared behind a bank of clouds as they rode into the yard.
Kirby carried Jen tenderly into her old room… a room that had been left untouched except for Maria's daily cleaning. Manuel had built a fire in the fireplace and the crackling logs were so cheerful that they began to feel better. Maria sent Kirby away while she got Jen into bed, and he waited impatiently.
She looked tiny, lost in the big four-poster. She looked tired… from the trip, and because of the strain of the rough meeting at the fork in the trails. But as she raised her lips for his kiss she whispered, "I'm happier than I've been for a long time, Kirby… in spite of what Bill said."
"You belong here," he told her. "Won't you stay… always?"
She laid a soft finger across his lips. "Sometime soon we'll talk about that," she answered. He felt a chill premonition at her words.
Maria insisted anxiously that he allow Jen to rest. Josh was in the kitchen. "You looked outside, boss?" he asked.
Kirby went quickly to the kitchen door. He had to struggle to open the door against the force of the wind.
The sky to the north was black, with the curious twisted look of black curly hair. The wind was beginning to sound a high, keen wail, and there was the bite of fine particles of ice against his face. As far out on the range as he could see, cattle were heading for the feeding corrals, and the saddle stock near at hand were standing huddled against their shed, tails turned to the wind. There was a flurry of activity near bunkhouse and barn, and a puncher was already stringing a safety rope. Wagon was bracing for the storm.
He turned back into the kitchen to face Josh's worried frown. "We've made it before; we'll make it again. If there aren't but a hundred cows left by spring, we'll pull through."
Josh nodded a sober agreement. "Guess we will," he said. "That isn't what's bothering me. I was just thinking about Bill… and Hub Dawes. This blizzard ain't goin' to stop what's comin'… it's only goin' to put it off."
CHAPTER SEVEN
With the swift passage of days, all alike, Christmas arrived before anyone was ready or had had time to think about the holiday season. Following the grim pattern set by the first storm, a blizzard followed on the heels of heavy snow.
Jen made a rapid improvement under Maria's constant and anxious care. It was a day for celebration when she was able to be up and about the house. And it wasn't long before an impromptu party was held in the kitchen on
Kirby could see instantly that Bill had been drinking, to what extent it was hard to tell. Dawes sat his horse in silence, a sneer on his face. Bill held up his hand as they approached. He looked directly at Jen, ignoring the other riders. He swept off his hat, and Kirby felt disgust as he took in the matted, uncombed hair and unshaven cheeks. Bill's speech was thick.
"Heard at the livery you was goin' to Wagon," he said to Jen. "You going to stay?"
Her reply was firm, a little pitying. "It's a good place to get well, Bill," she answered.
His voice was harsh. "You made a choice back there in town, didn't you?"
She said nothing; her eyes locked with his.
"Reckon you did." A spasm of something like pain crossed his face. "Nothing I can do about that. But there is something I can do… I can give you a warning. Don't think you and him will ever have Wagon. It's going to be mine. No one is going to get in my way, not even you. Just remember this: bullets make quick widows." He jerked savagely on his reins and gigged his horse into a dead run so quickly that Kirby never had a chance to speak. Dawes followed, an ugly laugh floating over his shoulder.
Josh attempted to break the shocked silence. "He was drunk," he said to no one in particular. Curly clucked to the team. "Git up, horses." The little party felt the constraint the rest of the way in to headquarters, and as if in keeping with their somber mood, the sun disappeared behind a bank of clouds as they rode into the yard.
Kirby carried Jen tenderly into her old room… a room that had been left untouched except for Maria's daily cleaning. Manuel had built a fire in the fireplace and the crackling logs were so cheerful that they began to feel better. Maria sent Kirby away while she got Jen into bed, and he waited impatiently.
She looked tiny, lost in the big four-poster. She looked tired… from the trip, and because of the strain of the rough meeting at the fork in the trails. But as she raised her lips for his kiss she whispered, "I'm happier than I've been for a long time, Kirby… in spite of what Bill said."
"You belong here," he told her. "Won't you stay… always?"
She laid a soft finger across his lips. "Sometime soon we'll talk about that," she answered. He felt a chill premonition at her words.
Maria insisted anxiously that he allow Jen to rest. Josh was in the kitchen. "You looked outside, boss?" he asked.
Kirby went quickly to the kitchen door. He had to struggle to open the door against the force of the wind.
The sky to the north was black, with the curious twisted look of black curly hair. The wind was beginning to sound a high, keen wail, and there was the bite of fine particles of ice against his face. As far out on the range as he could see, cattle were heading for the feeding corrals, and the saddle stock near at hand were standing huddled against their shed, tails turned to the wind. There was a flurry of activity near bunkhouse and barn, and a puncher was already stringing a safety rope. Wagon was bracing for the storm.
He turned back into the kitchen to face Josh's worried frown. "We've made it before; we'll make it again. If there aren't but a hundred cows left by spring, we'll pull through."
Josh nodded a sober agreement. "Guess we will," he said. "That isn't what's bothering me. I was just thinking about Bill… and Hub Dawes. This blizzard ain't goin' to stop what's comin'… it's only goin' to put it off."
CHAPTER SEVEN
With the swift passage of days, all alike, Christmas arrived before anyone was ready or had had time to think about the holiday season. Following the grim pattern set by the first storm, a blizzard followed on the heels of heavy snow.
Jen made a rapid improvement under Maria's constant and anxious care. It was a day for celebration when she was able to be up and about the house. And it wasn't long before an impromptu party was held in the kitchen on
Similar Books
