Ralph Compton Death Rides a Chestnut Mare (21 page)

“You on the ridge,” shouted a voice from near the cabin, “can you see 'em? Have they retreated?”

“I think so,” Danielle said. “Who were they, and who are you?”

“They're Mexicans that chased us across the border,” said the voice. “I'm Roy Carnes, and my
amigos
are Jake Kazman and Maury Lyles.”

“You've been rustling horses in Mexico, then, and driving them across the border,” Danielle said.

“Maybe I should have stayed out of it and let them take you.”

“I swear we ain't rustled nobody's horses,” Carnes shouted back. “Three of the horses in the corral is our personal mounts. The other three are wild as Texas jacks, without any brands. We trapped 'em wild, and before we could get 'em across the border, the damn Mexicans caught up to us. Come on down. There'll be a storm pretty quick.”

The invitation was difficult to refuse, for the black clouds out of the west appeared to be dropping lower and lower. Already they had obscured the sun, and it was as though twilight had descended on the land. Leading the chestnut mare, Danielle descended the slope to the cabin below. The three men were waiting for her.

“Not a very good place for a cabin,” Danielle said. “It's hard to defend.”

“We know,” said Carnes, “but there's water handy. We never expected them Mexes to foller us across the border. They never have before.”

“Maybe you'd better think long and hard before crossing the border for more horses,” Danielle said.

“I expect we will,” Carnes said. “Who are you?”

“I'm Daniel Strange, bound for San Antonio.”

“You're welcome to wait out the storm here with us,” said Carnes. “We ain't got a bunk for you, but we can offer you a dry place to spread your blankets. Turn your horse into the corral with ours.”

“Thanks,” Danielle said. “It's looking pretty black over there. I'll accept your invite.”

Removing her saddle and saddlebags, Danielle led the chestnut mare into the corral. It was a good time to see if Carnes had been lying about the newly acquired horses. But the trio appeared wild, and there wasn't a sign of a brand on any of them. Danielle followed the three men into the shack, finding it larger than she had expected. Danielle dropped her saddle and saddlebags in a corner. Carnes started a fire in the fireplace.

“Kazman,” said Danielle, “your name's mighty familiar. I spent some time with friends north of Dallas, and I seem to recall having heard your name.”

“No,” Kazman said, a little too hurriedly. “I'm from south Texas, near San Antone.”

“We ain't got much to offer in the way of grub,” said Carnes. “When we break these wild horses, we got to ride into El Paso and stock up on supplies.”

“I bought pretty heavy before leaving there,” Danielle said. “While I'm here, and you're providing me shelter, I'll supply the grub. You got a coffeepot?”

“Yeah,” said Maury Lyles, “but we been out of coffee beans for a week.”

“I have some,” Danielle said. “Maybe I can spare you enough to get you to El Paso.”

“We'd be obliged,” said Roy Carnes.

Outside, the wind had risen to a shriek, driving sheets of rain against the side of the cabin. Danielle felt the floor tremble beneath her feet. They all sat on the benches on each side of the table, Danielle covertly watching Jake Kazman. Without appearing to, he shifted his eyes toward Danielle's saddle and saddlebags, and then looked away. Danielle observed him from the corner of her eye, and realized if he
had
been in north Texas, he might well know of the trail drive in which Danielle had taken part. He might also suspect that she had earned considerable money when the cattle had been sold in Abilene. Outside, the storm roared on. Using Danielle's supplies, Carnes prepared supper. After eating, the conversation dribbled away to nothing. While Carnes and Lyles were at ease, Kazman was restless, and more than once Danielle caught him watching her.

“We might as well turn in for the night,” Lyles said, “unless the rest of you want to light the lantern and play some low-stakes poker.”

“Thanks,” said Danielle, “but I don't play poker.”

“I don't play for low stakes,” Carnes said, “and these other two jaybirds are likely as broke as I am. Besides, we've had a hard day, and I can use the sleep.”

The three retired to their bunks, while Danielle took her place in the corner, her head on her saddle. The fire was allowed to burn itself out, and soon the cabin was in complete darkness. In the early hours of the morning, Danielle awakened, unsure as to what had disturbed her. The storm had ceased, for there was no roar of the wind or the sound of rain on the roof. Danielle lay on her back and, without moving the rest of her body, very slowly moved her right hand until it reached the butt of her Colt. Slowly she drew the weapon, and again she heard the sound that had awakened her. A floorboard creaked.

“You're covered,” Danielle said. “A step closer, and I'll shoot.”

“Hell,” said Jake Kazman, “I was just goin' outside.”

“Then turn around,” Danielle said. “The door's behind you.”

“Kazman,” said Carnes, who was awake now, “I don't hold with botherin' an
hombre
that's stood by me or been a help to me in any way.”

“Neither do I,” Lyles added. “Nothin' but a flea-bitten yellow coyote eats another man's grub and then tries to rob him.”

“You can't prove I had any such thing in mind,” Kazman shouted, “and I won't take a charge from nobody. Nobody, by God!”

“You've been watching me ever since I got here,” Danielle said, “and I'm accusing you of coming after me in the dark. When you say you don't know me, or don't know of me, you lie. If you're still here come daylight, be wearing your pistol. You'll need it.”

“I ain't goin' nowhere without one of them wild horses,” said Kazman. “One of them belongs to me.”

“Then catch one of them, saddle your horse, and get the hell out of here,” Roy Carnes said.

“That goes for me as well,” said Maury Lyles. “I never liked you much, Kazman, and now I know why.”

Carnes stirred up the coals and added some wood to the fire. Without a word, Kazman took his saddle and left the shack.

“You reckon we ought to watch the varmint?” Lyles asked. “He's likely to take all the horses. Maybe our mounts too.”

“I'll watch him,” said Carnes, taking his Winchester and stepping out the door.

“I swear we didn't know what he was when he joined up with us,” said Lyles.

“I don't fault you and Carnes,” Danielle said. “De spite what Kazman said, I still think he's from north Texas. A few weeks ago, I joined some Texas ranchers in gathering and getting a trail herd to Abilene. We gunned down four outlaws in Indian Territory, and I'm sure Kazman was one of those who escaped.”

Nothing more was said until Carnes returned to the cabin.

“He's got his work cut out for him, with that wild horse,” said Carnes.

“That's his problem,” Lyles said. “I'm glad to be rid of him.”

“He seems like a man that carries a grudge,” said Danielle. “He's liable to sneak back and bushwhack one or both of you.”

“You'd better watch your back trail,” Carnes said. “He knows where you're headed, and I wouldn't put it past him, trailing you.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” said Danielle. “There's still time to get some sleep before first light. But I think we should shove the table up against the door.”

It was still dark outside when the nickering of a horse awakened Danielle. She pulled on her boots, aware that Carnes and Lyles were moving about. Nobody spoke. Danielle heard her companions cocking their Winchesters, and she followed them outside. There was a frightened nicker from the chestnut mare, for a shadowy rider was attempting to mount the animal. Danielle whistled once, and the mare broke into a frenzy of bucking, flinging the would-be thief to the ground.

“Get up, you thieving bastard,” Carnes shouted.

But there was a muzzle flash, and Carnes stumbled back against the cabin wall. In only a split second, Danielle drew and fired twice, to the right and the left of the muzzle flash. For a moment none of them moved, lest the intruder still lived. Finally, Maury Lyles spoke.

“How hard was you hit, Roy?”

“Shoulder,” said Carnes.

“I'll get the lantern,” Lyles said, “but I think we all know who the coyote is.”

Lyles lighted the lantern, and they found themselves looking into the dead face of Jake Kazman. He had been shot twice.

“Tarnation, that's some shootin' in the dark,” said Lyles to Danielle. “That skunk really had it in for you.”

“Do you know if Kazman was his real name?” Danielle asked.

“That's the name he gave us,” said Lyles. “I'd better patch up your shoulder, Roy.”

After dragging Kazman away from the corral, they returned to the cabin. Lyles stirred up the fire and put on a pot of water to boil.

“I have a quart of whiskey in my saddlebag,” Danielle said, “and I'll leave it with you. There may be infection.”

“We're obliged,” said Carnes. “We won't be ridin' to town until we break those three wild horses.”

After dressing Carnes's wound, Lyles built up the fire and started breakfast, since first light wasn't far away. In the brightening sky, the stars had begun to retreat into the distant heavens. By the time they finished breakfast, the eastern horizon was illuminated with the first light of dawn.

“I have plenty of coffee beans,” Danielle said. “I'll leave some with you to last until you can get to town. Do you want me to bury Kazman before I go?”

“No,” said Lyles, “I'll take care of it. You've done us some mighty big favors, and we are obliged.”

Carnes added, “If you hadn't come along and spooked Kazman, he might have shot us both in the back and took
all
the horses. You sure you can't stay and join in our horse hunting?”

“No,” said Danielle. “My pa was robbed and murdered in Indian Territory by outlaws, and I aim to track them down. There's seven of them still alive, unless Kazman was one of them, using another name.”

“Before you leave, I'll search Kazman,” Lyles said. “You never know what you'll find in a dead man's pockets.”

Lyles took a little more than an hour, digging a shallow grave and burying Kazman. He returned to the cabin and dropped six gold double eagles on the table.

“That's all he had on him,” said Lyles. “I reckon it's yours, Daniel, since you gave him what he deserved.”

“I don't want it,” Danielle said. “Use it to stock up on grub and coffee beans.”

Shortly afterward, Danielle rode away. She genuinely hated leaving the two genial cowboys, but she wanted nothing more to do with taking horses—wild or gentled—from old Mexico. She had thought at first that some of the killers she sought might have crossed the border into Mexico, and were hiding there. But now, with Mexicans so hostile toward all Americans, it seemed unlikely. Texas itself was large enough to hide the whole bunch, and she rode on toward San Antonio.

 

 

Danielle took a room on the second floor of the Cattleman's Hotel. It was the exception among frontier hotels, for there was a dining room on the first floor. Every room had a deep pile carpet on the floor, with matching drapes at the window. Danielle sat down on the bed, which was firm enough that it didn't sag under her weight. It would be a welcome comfort, after four nights on the ground. There was a washbasin and a porcelain pitcher of water, and she took advantage of it, washing away the trail dust. One look in the mirror told her that her hair was getting entirely too long. She had to visit a barbershop, and soon. Since there was still daylight left, she decided to go for a hair-cut and be done with it. It was nearing the supper hour, and there were no other patrons in the shop.

“Cut it short,” Danielle said. “I'm having trouble getting my hat to fit.”

“Shave?” the barber asked.

“No,” Danielle said. “Just cut my hair.”

“There's a bathhouse in back, with plenty of soap and hot water,” the barber said.

“Maybe later,” said Danielle. “It's near suppertime, and I'm hungry.”

The door opened, and a lanky man entered. A Colt was tied low on each hip.

“Haircut,” said the stranger.

“You're next,” the barber replied.

“King Fisher don't like to wait,” said the new arrival. “I'll get in that other chair, and you take care of me. Then you can get back to the shavetail you're working on now.”

“I was here first,” Danielle said, “and he's goin' to finish with me. If you don't like it, wait until I'm out of this chair and settle with me.”

Under her barber's cloth, there was the ominous sound of a Colt being cocked. There was no fear in Danielle's cold green eyes as they bored into King Fisher's.

“I'll come back another time,” said King Fisher. Turning, he walked out the door.

“My God,” the barber said, “do you know who that was?”

“I believe he said his name is King Fisher,” Danielle said. “It means nothing to me.”

“It should,” said the barber. “He don't carry them two guns just for show, and at this particular time, Ben Thompson's in town. Him and King Fisher are friends. Sober, they're decent, but let 'em get drunk, and the devil couldn't ask for no better disciples.”
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