Wayward Wind (39 page)

“Where’s Lorna?” he demanded without preamble. The man ignored him and continued pounding, then kicked dirt around the base
of the flat board and stamped it down. “Where’s Lorna, damn you!” Cooper shouted, and his voice bounced off a distant mountain
and came back to him.

The man picked up his rifle and turned toward him. “She ain’t here.”

“Where is she?”

“Gone.”

“Where’d she go?”

“Who wants to know?”

“I do, damn you. Cooper Parnell.”

“Never heared of ya.”

Cooper ground his teeth in frustration; the hold on his temper was deteriorating rapidly. His anxiety made him lash out recklessly.
“Listen, you pile of horseshit,” he bit out between jaws rigid with anger, “I don’t have time to be hee-hawing around. You’d
better tell me if that woman’s all right or not, or I’ll get off this horse and stomp the shit out of you!” He made a move
to dismount.

“C’mon, if’n ya think ya can.” Moose gripped his rifle by the barrel and prepared to swing. He was a giant of a man and from
the looks of him, he was not one to back down.

“Hellfire, man, I don’t want to fight you. I just want to know if the bastards that did this got their filthy hands on Lorna.”

“She was all right when she left.”

“When was that?”

“Yesterday morn.”

Cooper felt a deep, swelling relief. His fingers trembled as he pulled the makings for a cigarette from his pocket. “Smoke?”
he asked.

“Naw. I got a chaw.” Moose spit a yellow stream of tobacco juice onto the ground. Although he appeared to be relaxed, he was
primed and ready to fight and Cooper knew it.

“I’m Parnell,” Cooper said as if he hadn’t told him his name before. He knew that if he was going to get any information out
of this giant he’d have to go at it in a different way.

“Name’s Moose. Got other names, but don’t rightly need ’em.”

“Is your partner’s name Woody?”

“Yep. How’d ya know?”

“Lorna. She said you’re friends of hers.”

“Yep.”

“What happened here?”

Moose leaned on the rails that surrounded the small burial ground. He spit again, looked off down the trail, then over at
the ruins of the homestead. He watched Griffin ride up and peer inside the smokehouse. Cooper waited patiently. Moose looked
at him, his black eyes taking in everything about him, sizing him up, measuring him, and finally deciding the tall, fair-haired
young fellow was a decent sort.

“Air ya here alookin’ fer Lorna?”

“I am.”

“What fer?”

Hell! None of your goddamn business! Cooper wanted to shout. He took a long pull from his smoke, then said calmly, “I owe
her some money. What happened to Frank?”

“One of the fellers that tore up the place shot ’im. Me’n Woody got ’im on down to our place, but there warn’t much we could
do. Lorna got here afore he passed on.”

“She wasn’t here when this happened?”

“Nope. Happened day afore she got here.”

“Who did it?” Moose didn’t answer. He took a hunk of tobacco from his pocket and cut off a slice with a long thin knife. “Do
you know who shot Frank and burned the place down?” Cooper prodded gently.

“I reckon I do.”

“Then I’d be obliged if you’d name them. I mean for them to face a reckoning.”

“I’m thinkin’ Brice Fulton came to burn ’em out ’cause Lorna ’bout whopped the skin off ’im. He’s a mean’un, that Brice is.
Frank tried to reason with ’im, ’n Hollis Johnson shot ’im down. They’s plumb crazy, both of ’em. Billy’s jist a dumb kid.
He ain’t got the sense God gave a goose. Frank said there was four of ’em, but he didn’t know the other’n. They fired the
house ’n shot ever’thin’ that moved. Shot like he was, Frank went in the house to get somethin’ fer Lorna. The fire drove
’im out ’n they shot ’im agin fer pure cussedness. Hit’s a pure wonderment he lived the night out.” Bit by bit, Moose told
the whole story. He finished up by saying, “Woody ’n me is agoin’ to clean the place up a mite. The little gal knows she can
winter with me ’n Woody if she’s of a mind to. She might be back, though she says she ain’t.”

The heat of unremitting rage washed over Cooper. “Did Lorna say where she was going?”

“Nope. Warn’t my place t’ask.”

“Which way was she heading?”

“The way ya was acomin’ from, I reckon.”

“I’m obliged to you, Moose. If Lorna comes back tell her I was here and that I’ve got a message for her about Volney Burbank.
If I don’t find her, I’ll be back.”

Cooper and Griffin went back up the trail toward the pass where they’d crossed over the mountain. A few miles from the homestead
they stopped to fry bacon and boil coffee.

“I sure do feel bad ’bout Miss Lorna losin’ her home,” Griffin said sorrowfully. “Her heart must be busted in a dozen places.”

“It wasn’t an easy thing to face. That and losing her pa.”

“I aim to kill ’em, ya know. I just wish I could a done it afore they did what they done.”

“I aim to find Lorna. Then I’ll settle with Fulton and Hollis Johnson.”

Cooper desperately hoped that Lorna had gone to his place, She was alone now, her home and her father gone. There was nothing
to keep her on Light’s Mountain. He would see to it that after a while the pain of losing the home Light and Maggie had built
would ease and she would come to think of the ranch as her home.

Arnie Henderson saw the rider coming toward the house when he was a mere moving speck on the horizon, but he waited until
the sorrel horse turned up the lane before he called out to Sylvia.

“Rider comin’ in, Sylvia. You women stay in the house.”

“Someone’s coming? I’ll do no such thing, Arnie Henderson,” Sylvia sputtered from the doorway.

“Stay in there or I’ll spank yore butt—when I’m able.”

“Well, I never! You’re getting mighty bossy.” She could hear him chuckling while she was taking the rifle from the pegs over
the fireplace. She crossed the room to stand just inside the door. “Who is he?”

“I dunno.”

Bonnie watched Sylvia with large frightened eyes. She lived in constant dread that Brice would find her. She peeked out the
door and relief slumped her shoulders when she saw a man with slim waist and hips sitting tall in the saddle. He wore a dark,
peaked hat and a tan leather vest over his shirt. It wasn’t Brice or Hollis or Billy Tyrrell.

Arnie watched the man approach. Watched him lean from the saddle to open the gate, pass through, and close it with a shove
from his booted foot. He rode up to the hitching rail, but didn’t dismount.

“Howdy,” he said to the silent Arnie. “Is this the Parnell ranch?”

“It is.”

“I’m looking for a young fellow by the name of Griffin. I was told in town that he came in with Cooper Parnell.”

“Who might you be?”

“My name is Kain—”

“Kain?” Bonnie slipped out the door. “Are ya the one who’s alookin’ after Griff’s horses?”

“I’m the one.”

“Griff told me ’bout him. He’s a friend of Griff’s, Mr. Henderson.”

“Wal, then, climb down ’n come on in,” Arnie invited.

“Thank you.”

Sylvia stood the rifle beside the door and came out onto the porch. She eyed the stranger while he hitched his horse to the
rail. He was Cooper’s age or a little older. His boots were of the best leather and not run-down at the heels, his clothes
clean and he rode a good horse. He also wore two tied-down, silver-handled revolvers. He came to the porch and removed his
hat.

“Ma’am.”

“I’m Mrs. Parnell, Cooper’s mother. This is Arnie Henderson, and this is—” She turned, but Bonnie wasn’t there. She could
see the hem of her dress just inside the door where she had fled. The girl was so shy Sylvia’s heart went out to her. “Oh,
I guess Bonnie is seeing to something on the stove. Step up on the porch and have a seat, Mr. Kain. Would you care for a nice
cold glass of buttermilk? Bonnie and I just finished churning.”

“Thank you, ma’am. It would be a treat.” His dark face broke into a smile. His eyes were amber, his lashes brown, his cheeks
clean shaven and he had extremely white teeth.

When Sylvia returned with the buttermilk they were talking about Arnie’s leg and Arnie was saying the worst part of the whole
thing was having the darn thing itch and not being able to reach in to scratch it.

“’Course, sometimes when night comers I can sweet talk Sylvia into takin’ off the wraps ’n scratch it for me.”

The man’s eyes took in the flush on Sylvia’s face, and saw her reach behind her and pinch Arnie’s arm. He drank the milk and
returned the glass.

“That was mightly fine. Thank you. As I said, I’m looking for Griff. It seems the young lady knows him?”

“Yes. We’ve all become quite fond of him. Excuse me, Mr. Kain, I’m putting the noon meal on the table. I’ll set a place for
you.”

“Don’t bother, ma’am—”

“It’s no bother at all. A friend of Griffin’s is more than welcome.”

“I’d sure be pleased to know where that Griff has been all these weeks. If he’s been here eating home cooking while I’ve been
eating beans over a campfire, there’s going to be a reckoning.” Sylvia recognized that there was no threat in his words, but
rather a fondness for Griffin.

“I’ll leave the tellin’ to Arnie. Cooper always says I make a mountain out of a molehill, anyway.”

“That’s the truth,” Arnie said, and grabbed her skirt when she passed. “Sylvia gets her mouth agoin’ ’n she’s liable to tell
ya it’s rainin’ when the sun’s shinin’.”

“Arnie! You make me so mad!” Sylvia hissed and yanked her skirt from his grasp and flounced into the house.

“I ain’t e’er had such fun as I get teasin’ that woman. She be pure pleasure, ’n that’s certain.” Arnie emitted a chuckle
that went on and on. Finally he stopped and leaned forward. “Did ya have trouble findin’ the place?”

“No. The land man pointed it out on a map.”

Sylvia heard the low murmur of the men’s voices and was thankful to leave it to Arnie to judge what to tell the stranger and
what not to tell him. He wasn’t at all the type of man she thought would be a sidekick to Griffin. He wasn’t down on his luck,
according to his clothes and his horse. He was older, educated. If she were to judge him, she’d say that he was no ordinary
man, just as she had known Logan Horn was not an ordinary man when she first met him. There was a confident air about him
that said he was not to be fooled with but that he’d be a good man to have on your side.

Bonnie was so nervous she wanted to melt inside herself. This was the friend Griffin had talked about; the one who had helped
him steal his horses back from Clayhill. Griffin thought a lot of him. Bonnie suddenly saw herself as Kain saw her and was
afraid that she’d not measure up and somehow he would change Griffin’s mind about marrying her.

Kain helped Arnie to the table. After they were seated Arnie said the blessing and the food was passed. Bonnie kept her head
bowed and the end of her arm among the folds of her dress. Sylvia kept a conversation going and Bonnie stole shy glances at
Kain. He had washed at the washbench and combed his hair. It lay in dark waves straight back from a part on the side. He was
mighty handsome, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Griff, she thought. His fingers were long and slender, his nails cut close
and clean. It was fascinating to watch him handle his knife and fork. They worked together, but not one time did she see him
put his knife in his mouth.

When they finished the meal, Kain helped Arnie get back to his chair on the porch. He didn’t ask why he was sitting there
with a rifle within easy reach, and Arnie didn’t tell him how he came to have a broken leg and a face full of scabs and bruises.

It was evident to Sylvia that the two men had sized each other up and liked what they saw. She smiled fondly down at Arnie.
He was a
good
man and he had certainly added zest to her life. She would make a home for him over on the Morning Sun, and Cooper could
raise his family here. Sometimes things did work out as they should, she thought, and placed her hand on Arnie’s shoulder.

“You’re welcome to stay the night, Mr. Kain,” Sylvia said when Kain mentioned that he should be getting on back to town.

“Thank you, ma’am, but I’ll be going. I have an envelope in my saddlebag for Griffin. It’s the money for his horses. Tell
him that I got a good price from the army and that they even came and got the entire herd. I’ll be in town for a few days,
then I’ll be moving on.”

“I wish you were staying,” Sylvia said, and shook her head sorrowfully.

“I plan to set Adam Clayhill straight about Griffin and the place on the Blue before I go, ma’am.” There was no overt change
in Sylvia’s expression, only a faint grimace of her full lips. Kain’s admiration grew for this woman who had endured so much
with a head held high.

“Can you do that? He’s a hard, vicious man who will do anything to get what he wants. Anything at all.”

“I know that. Not much happens in the territory that isn’t talked about in a saloon.”

He continued to look straight at her, but Sylvia knew he was talking about Arnie’s leg and the fact that Adam Clayhill had
set his thugs on him. She realized, too, that Kain knew Adam wanted the son who despised him to come to Clayhill Ranch. Sylvia
drew in a deep hurtful breath. Her shame was known throughout the territory.

Sylvia stood beside Arnie and watched Kain ride away. Bonnie had refused to come to the porch, but now she stood in the doorway
watching him too.

“Did you tell Kain that Adam’s men would have hung Griffin if not for Cooper?”

“No. I tole him Cooper ’n Griff had gone to bury the ole man. If Griff wants him to know, he’ll tell him.”

“I think he knew anyway. I think he knows all about us, Arnie. I wonder who he is.”

“I take him for a man what uses his eyes ’n ears ’n what’s atween. ’N he don’t let no moss grow on him anywheres, that’s shore.
I’d say he’d be a good one to tie to in case a trouble.”

“I wish he’d stay,” Sylvia said again.

Late the following evening, Cooper and Griffin rode in. Their horses were tired and the men almost worn out from a hard two-day
ride without sleep. Sylvia met Cooper at the gate.