Where the Long Grass Blows (1976) (16 page)

The west was changing, and his very existence was evidence of it. He had lived through many phases of western life, but now he wanted to dig in, to settle down, to make a place for himself in the world. To become a citizen.

He smiled at his own thoughts, yet the smile faded. Why not? The country had needed discovery, had needed opening up. But now that was done and it was time to build. Many of the first ones had come to get rich and get out. But even they had served their purpose, for they pointed the way for others, helped to settle the land. And even many of those who wanted only riches had come to love the country and to stay.

Down there, its smoke lifting from its homes to the placid skies, lay Soledad. It was a simple little one-street town with a scattering of homes along shapeless avenues behind the facade of that one street, but a town of people. There were a lot of Anglo-Saxons down there, several Germans, a few Swedes and Norwegians, one Jew and at least a dozen of the Irish.

There was also one Negro, a big, quiet man who ran a saddlery and shoe shop combined. It was a western town.

After visiting Soledad he would go to the W, and if she would come, he would bring Dixie away.

And at the same time he would check out that mysterious cabin that even Kerb Dahl seemed to fear.

The trail he had chosen was a trail he had learned about from the same source who had told him of the chance there might be cattle in the lava beds, and of the secret trail to the mesa-top.

This might well be the last time he would need such a trail. He could not hope to match Levitt in numbers, but he might create some worry among his followers, might even be able to contact the law.

That, if possible, he must do.

For some time, he sat among the trees and looked over the town. He was a good two miles off and several hundred feet higher, so he had a first-class view of all that went on. He could not, of course, distinguish one person from another, but he could see the movement. And from his knowledge of the various saloons, stores, and whatever, he could judge pretty well what was happening.

There was no unusual activity. People seemed to be going about their business as usual. Of course, that was always true. One heard of gunfights in western towns, but they rarely touched the lives of the average citizen. And many a man who lived in Dodge, Deadwood or Tombstone never saw a gun fired in anger.

Several times his eyes went to Scott's store.

He should talk to Scott. In many ways the old outlaw puzzled him. He seemed settled and content. ...

But was he? Was he as much the innocent bystander as he permitted people to believe? "You're getting too suspicious, Bill," he warned himself. "Next thing you know, you'll be suspecting Dixie."

He looked for Levitt's white horse, but saw nowhere. The W. ... He must circle around and have a look at the W. ... And he might even see Dixie.

He went back to his horse and stepped into the saddle. Holding the reins, he looked once more at Soledad.

All was still. ... The smoke lifted lazily. A lone horseman trotted down the street It was so very peaceful, so very still. Why then was he worried?

Why was he apprehensive?

Was something wrong with him? Or was there something happening down there of which he knew nothing?

Chapter
XIV

"There will be peace," Star Levitt said quietly, looking across the dining-room table at Dixie.

"There will be peace in the Valley. No more killing, no more trouble. You and Tom here, you will have nothing to worry about"

Except being married to you! she said, mentally.

And what will happen to Bill?

Pogue and Reynolds were always fighting, and with them gone, things will settle down. It was fortunate that I got you away from there that day," he added. "The men were under some strain and there was considerable profanity, but I was afraid something might happen."

Afraid? she asked herself. Or did he know?

Tom was quiet, his features cold and stiff, only his eyes seemed alive.

"I suspect," Levitt said, "that Canavan is dead.

I believe he was wounded in the branding-pen fight He's not been seen since, and that's hardly like him.

"However, if he does show up, Marshal Chubb will be able to handle the situation. So you see, Dixie, you'll be marrying a pillar of the community."" He smiled cynically. "I am sure the pillars of many other communities arrived at their positions in much the same way."

"It is the way of thieves," she said quietly, "to find excuses for their crimes. They always argue that everyone would steal if they had the chance. No doubt, some men have attained stature by devious means, but they are invariably found out"

He smiled. "You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you? But not be found out, and soon the Valley will settle down and everyone will be pleased. Including me ... And you.

"Oh, I know. You say you don't love me, but does it really matter? You'll live well, and you will soon forget there was any other way.

"Look around you." He gestured widely.

"We're a little world of our own. The nearest other town is miles away. The people in authority in the Territory would rather not be bothered by our problems, if any.

As soon as they are convinced all is well, they will go away and leave us in peace."

"You really think you're going to get away with it, don't you?" Tom Venable said. "You underrate Canavan. He will be back."

"I rather hope you are right," Levitt said, "for if he comes, I shall have the pleasure of killing him."

He paused. "And it will be a pleasure, I assure you."

There was a tap on the door, and Dixie, glad of the interruption, went to answer it Emmett Chubb stood in the doorway, hat in hand. "Boss," he paused. "Sorry to butt in, but there's some more of those cattle ... the Gallow's Frame stock."

"What do you mean ... more." Levitt spoke irritably.

"Maybe fifty, sixty head. All big steers, prime stuff, all freshly branded."

"How fresh?"

"Two ... three days, maybe. But wild and mean.

I can't figure where they're coming from, Boss. It must be that Canavan. ... But where's he find them?"

"I think we'd better find out, Chubb. I'll leave that job to you ... Find out."

"What about town? Somebody'll have to be on duty in town?"

"Pick three good men, and let them look."

Chubb left and Levitt returned to the table, but his manner had changed. His desire to talk had disappeared, and he had the tight, mean look around his eyes that she was becoming used to. She shot a warning glance at Tom, and he nodded ever so slightly.

Levitt finished his meal in silence, emptied his cup and set it down hard on the table. He got up suddenly and started for the door, yet when he reached it, he turned sharply around. "I hope he's not dead. I want to kill him. I want to see him die!"

"Star," she spoke gently, "don't ever try it.

He will kill you. He's too good for you, Star, and you know it!"

Had he been closer, he might have struck her. As it was, he took an involuntary step back toward them, then paused, "I can beat him! I can beat anybody!

Anyway," his manner calmed, "I've checked back on him. He's no gunfighter. He's used a gun a few times, that's all. He's nothing to worry about."

"Then stop worrying, Star." She smiled at him.

"Kerb Dahl may get to him first ... or Emmett Chubb."

When he was gone, Tom Venable looked at Dixie and shook his head. "Sis, be careful! He'll kill you, someday! I think he's a little mad, you know."

She nodded soberly. "You're right, of course, but he rubs me the wrong way. And there's something about that inflated ego of his that makes me want to take him down a notch."

"I'm scared, Sis, really scared. Not for me so much as for you ... for all of us. He is winning, you know."

She nodded. "I know. Tom, isn't there anything we can do?"

"He's too good with a gun. I've thought of that Once I was even ready to shoot him in the back, but just as I put my hand on my gun I heard Dahl coming up behind me. "You'd never make it," was all he said. 'He'd kill you before you could draw."

"I just stood there, half-scared at what I had almost done, and Dahl said, "He's got a sixth sense, like eyes in the back of his head. I seen a man try to kill him once. Don't ever try it.""

For a long time they sat silent, thinking, wishing, wondering what they could do. Around them now he had a half-dozen men ... tough men, ready to kill either or both of them.

"Sis, do you think he's afraid of Canavan?"

She thought of that only for a minute, then she refused the idea. "No, he's not afraid of anything.

But it bothers him, I think, because Canavan is not afraid of him."

"Where does he get the cattle?" Tom wondered.

"How can cattle get to that size without being branded? For they are freshly-branded, every one.

And where does he go when he isn't in Soledad?

He disappears, you know ... just drops out of sight."

Where was he now? And why did she feel about him as she did? There was excitement in him, and great strength. But it was something more, for when with him she felt at ease, relaxed, and at home.

There was a calmness about him, a quiet assurance that was balm to her spirit. Was it only now that she could feel like that? Only now when she needed him so desperately?

Or would it be always?

Yet somehow he was one with this land she had come to love. He was as if born from the rock, from the tree-clad hills, and somehow she could not imagine him anywhere else but in this wild, western land.

"What do you think of him, Tom?"

She did not need to ask, for he had been thinking of him, too, sensing the attraction he had for his sister.

"He's a good man. A hard man, a lonely man, but a good man. I think, to use a term the cowhands use about some horses, he's a stayer. He wouldn't quit when the going got rough."

He stood up. "Dix, if you can get him, do it You'll not find a better man."

He paused at the door to the inner room. "That depends, of course, on whether we get out of this alive ... and whether he does."

The night was very still. There were lights in the bunkhouse but all else was quiet. The coals in the fireplace glowed red among the ashes. Another day without him, another day of trouble. How long could they stand it? How long could Tom stand it?

Levitt usually ignored Tom, but occasionally he seemed to try to goad him into some action. Of course, she admitted, Levitt's problems would decrease if Tom were dead. For the first time she looked at that aspect of it clearly, and the cold logic of it, as Levitt would see it, was simple indeed. In the event she married him, then his first action must be to eliminate Tom. No doubt Tom, being the cool head he was, already had come to that conclusion.

Levitt's marriage to her would give him a hold on the ranch. Tom's demise would tighten that control, and then, when he had tired of her ... his She stood up, blew out the lamp, and went to bed.

Chapter
XV

Circling Soledad again, Canavan came down through the pines and aspen to a position from which he could get a better view, and a view closer on, of the W. Glass in hand, he took a comfortable position from which he could see all that transpired in the area below. Then he began a systematic study of the ranch and its environs.

The isolated cabin he located without trouble. He studied it for a long time, watching for any evidence of life, but he saw none. The place looked bare, lonely, abandoned. No smoke came from its chimney now, neither did anyone approach it. Obviously the cabin held someone or something of great importance to Levitt, or it would not be watched so closely. For it was watched.

There was somebody working near the stables who kept it in view. Yet after a careful study of the layout, Canavan decided the door of the cabin was actually not in view from the ranch house, for the view was cut off by the stable and several large stacks of hay.

As dusk drew on, he saw the man who had been working near the stable disappear, and Kerb Dahl appeared, wearing two guns.

As evening came, he saw Tom Venable come to the edge of the porch, look around and, after a few minutes, disappear within. Yet in that moment much had been obvious, for the instant Venable appeared in the door, Kerb Dahl had walked rapidly forward and stood in the middle of the yard facing him, for all the world like a prison guard.

The light of dusk faded and the stars appeared.

There was a black bulge of cloud blotting out the stars over the mountains, however, and despite the pleasant evening here, there was a rumble of distant thunder. Was the storm approaching, or would it go around?

Aside from Kerb Dahl, there was no evidence of life around the ranch, only the lights in the windows of the ranch house and occasionally a movement behind the curtains there. The white horse was saddled and standing at the corral bars.

How quiet it all seemed! And how peaceful! The elongated rectangles of light from the windows, the horses standing in the corrals, calmly eating hay, a dim light from the bunkhouse. Only the lonely, ominous figure in the yard, the man with the guns, watching.