Wicked Wyoming Nights (46 page)

“She was Grandpa’s only child, and it broke his heart. In a way I think he held himself responsible for my father’s death. I watched him die little by little for ten long years; I left home the day he was buried. I never wanted anything to do with that town again. I sold everything we owned and used the money to take over the Matador loan.

“I never heard any more about her until Iris’s mother wrote she died of consumption in some hotel, deserted by the last in a long line of men who kept her. She lived in Buffalo too. Buffalo, New York. Isn’t that a joke?”

Tears were streaming down Eliza’s face and she held tightly to Cord. For a while he did not respond, just lay in her arms like a wood carving, but slowly her warmth penetrated the shield he had erected around himself and he turned and clung tightly. Moments rolled by without any change of position, but Eliza was sure she could sense a letting go of the past, a release of the poison he had kept buried deep within, a poison that had miraculously failed to ruin this highly principled son of a tramp.

“Maybe you can understand now why I couldn’t let you go no matter how many times you told me to go away. After Mother and Eugenia, I would never have had the courage to try again. Besides, I knew if you rejected me, it would be because of something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Eliza said, kissing him gently. “I learned that when, knowing it was my own fault I wasn’t already your wife, I had to watch half the women of Buffalo panting after you.”

“We can change that.”

“Soon, but not tonight,” she whispered provocatively, biting his ear. “I can think of other things I’d rather do.” Cord tumbled her over and kissed her with such fervor it left her breathless. Then they made love again, but this time with the molten fire of two people who had found each other after a long struggle and knew they would never be separated again.

“And the only thing anybody can talk about is that blessed fight at the Bar-T,” Ginny said as she took away the last of the breakfast dishes. “Seems the storm didn’t do a thing to cool off their tempers.”

“They’ll soon get bored and let the sheriff take over,” Cord said. “It’s no fun sitting for hours waiting for someone else to make a move.”

“If they don’t kill each other first.”

“I doubt anybody will get hurt much,” Cord assured her. “They’ll just keep sinking bullets into the wood until somebody calls the whole thing off. If the outlaws are surrounded, they’ll have to give up before long. They’ll soon be out of food and ammunition.”

“I completely forgot why I came.” Eliza acknowledged. “Uncle Ira and Mr. Blaine think you’re in the Bar-T ranch house. They plan to kill you.”

“How?”

“Someone captured a lot of dynamite. Uncle plans to put some in a wagon and run it into the house. It would break through the doors, wouldn’t it?”

“It would reduce the whole place to match sticks,” Cord said getting to his feet. “I’ve got to stop them. Shooting at each other isn’t going to cause much trouble, but if they start blowing up people, we’re in for a real bad time.”

“But why do you have to go?” asked Eliza. “Why can’t the marshal stop them?”

“Sometimes he’s a worse hothead than the rest. He runs a few head of cattle himself, and if he gets to imagining himself being wronged, no telling what he’s liable to do. Some of those men don’t have much sense, certainly not enough to know when to go home.” He gave orders for Franklin to have two horses saddled immediately.

“I want you to ride to Fort McKinley and bring the Army,” he told Eliza. Then go straight back to town. I don’t want anybody to know you’ve been here.” Eliza begged, pleaded, and argued, but Cord would not be moved.

“But you don’t owe them a thing, not after the way they’ve treated you.”

“Maybe, but I feel partly responsible. If I hadn’t agreed to lead this separate roundup, maybe this gang of vigilantes wouldn’t have been sent here. God only knows there’s plenty of rustlers I’d just as soon see swinging from the nearest tree, but starting a shooting war isn’t the way to get rid of them.” He gave her a swift kiss and lifted her up into the saddle. “Give this letter to Colonel Davis. Then go straight back to Ella and tell her I said to keep a better watch over you this time.” Cord slapped the rump of the horse he’d exchanged for Eliza’s jennet and sent the animal down the road at a smart gallop.

Eliza rejected the temptation to turn around and try to persuade one of Cord’s men to take the message for her. Cord might have decided against taking his crew with him, but he would certainly have ordered them to see she didn’t return to the Bar-T Ranch.

The road was easy to follow, and she must have ridden for nearly an hour, still arguing with herself, when she came upon a boy riding out with his dog and rifle in hopes of bagging some game for the supper pot. With sudden decision, Eliza called out to him. The boy, startled to find himself being hailed by a stranger, and a beautiful young female at that, showed such a pronounced tendency to stare Eliza lost her patience and spoke rather sharply.

“Do you know how to get to Fort McKinley?” she asked. He nodded in response. Then take this letter to Colonel Davis. You’re not to give it to anyone else, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the bemused youth answered.

“Tell him the invaders are surrounded at the Bar-T ranch, and if he doesn’t hurry, someone’s going to get killed.” The boy’s eyes grew wider and wider. Eliza dug into her pocket. “Here’s a dollar. Will that be enough for your dinner?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the youth replied, looking more stunned than ever.

“Then be off. There’s not much time.” For a moment the boy was too dazed to move, but then he called to his dog, dug his heels into his horse’s sides, and set off at a gallop. Eliza did the same in the opposite direction.

When Eliza at last came in sight of the encampment around the Bar-T Ranch, she could hear an occasional shot, but everything seemed quiet. She rode around the perimeter, looking for someone she knew and hoping Cord had decided not to come, but she had hardly gone five hundred yards when she saw a tight knot of men gathered around a peculiar-looking contraption of timbers built upon two stripped wagon beds. Using it as a shield, several men were slowly pushing it toward a steep decline in front of the besieged ranch house. Eliza rode closer and suddenly her heart leaped into her throat. Cord was tied to the front and exposed to the bullets of the invading force. With a scream of pure terror, Eliza drove her horse into the center of the gathering.

Chapter 34

Cord arrived at the Bar-T to find the men in a desultory mood. Some of them were beginning their third day and their enthusiasm was waning. The invaders had hastily nailed over the doors and windows at the first sign of attack, and the men’s bullets buried themselves harmlessly in the thick boards; the outlaws were safe as long as their ammunition lasted. Some of the men hailed Cord’s arrival, assuming he was going to join them, but they were disappointed when he advised them to turn their prisoners over to the sheriff or the marshal.

The message was not popular, but it was sensible, and common sense was beginning to return to men who, for two days and nights, had suffered miserably from lack of food and water and been soaked to the skin by icy rains. Cord worked his way around most of the circle, convincing the men they would be doing themselves a disservice if they lynched the trapped invaders. Then he came upon a group of men building a strange contraption under Ira Smallwood’s direction, and the whole tenor of the situation changed quite suddenly.

One glance at Cord was enough to break the last bonds of Ira’s restraint. “There’s the man who’s responsible for bringing these killers among us,” he yelled. “We ought to kill him where he stands.” Ira pulled his gun, apparently intending to do just that, but a man next to him pinned his arm behind him and took his gun away.

“You can’t go shooting people in cold blood,” the man said, but he eyed Cord with obvious distrust.

“That’s how they killed Lem and Bucky. They burned them out and shot them like cornered rabbits.”

“That’s how Keller and Frater died,” another added. “Only they was shot in the back.”

“I had nothing to do with those killings, and you know it,” Cord said, engaging Ira’s eyes with his own. “I hadn’t even intended to come out here until I heard you planned to blow up the ranch house. I had to try and put a stop to that.”

“Why?” asked one of the men suspiciously.

“Because you’ll be doing yourselves and Johnson County a disservice if you kill these men.”

“That’s what they were meaning to do to us.”

“It doesn’t matter to the law what they intended to do. They’re only guilty when they’ve done it.”

“They killed Lem and Bucky.”

“Then turn them over to Sheriff Hooker and let the courts decide what to do with them.”

“Nobody’s been hung for those other murders yet.”

“You still can’t take the law into your own hands. We’ve only been a state for two years, and if we start hanging people without a trial, Washington is going to do something we won’t like.” Cord had been looking about him as he talked and he didn’t like what he saw. He recognized a few honest farmers, but the others were members of Croley’s gang, and Croley had an even more substantial score to settle with Cord man Ira. Cord was beginning to wish he’d stuck by his original decision to bring his men along; he didn’t like the odds against him.

“Don’t listen to a word he says” Ira raged. “He’s an agent for the Association. He’s just trying to save his own men.”

“I’m on their blacklist at the moment. And that was even before I agreed to lead the independent roundup.”

“That’s right.”

“It’s all a trick to make you think he was on your side when all the while he was working for the Association.”

“How do you figure that?” asked one of the small number of faces not in Croley’s pay.

“If he leads that roundup, the Association has an excuse to send in their hired murderers and tell the Governor they were only saving themselves from being robbed.”

“That’s just your hatred talking, Ira. Everybody knows you’ve been against me since you came to town.”

“He makes a lot of sense to me,” said a man Cord didn’t recognize. There was a good deal of mumbling, but no one seemed sure what to do next.

“You know you have no proof,” Cord said, boldly facing the tightening circle. “I’ve stuck to my own because neither side trusted me, and you both tried to pick my bones.” His eyes bored into Ira. “And you have twice tried to steal from me.”

“You’re just trying to make us forget you’re the Association’s spy,” stormed Ira, not the least abashed.

“Can you prove it?”

“Can you deny Sanford Burton invited you to a secret meeting in his back room last month?” The cold, ironical voice belonged to Croley, and with his arrival came a deepening chill in the mood. “Can you deny that meeting took place just before a second meeting where you agreed to lead the independent roundup? Can you deny the second meeting was called and presided over by your friend and employee Sam Haughton?” The mood was turning ugly fast. Even the few who had been willing to give Cord the benefit of the doubt were beginning to wonder now.

“I walked out of that first meeting,” Cord said fearlessly. “I didn’t know what they had in mind, but I wanted no part of it.”

“And you expect us to believe you?” thundered Ira.

“Why shouldn’t you? I’ve done nothing except defend my own property.” The unshakable quality of his voice gave pause to some.

“You’ve driven helpless farmers off any land you wanted, your men have nearly killed innocent cowboys, and now you’ve given these hired killers a list of our names, names of people to murder in cold
blood!
”

“If there is such a list, your name must be near the top.”

“Tie him to the wagon,” screamed Ira. The men surged forward, men stopped almost as quickly. Cord held a gun in each hand, one pointed at Ira and the other at Croley.

“There are too many of you, but I’ll get you two before anyone lays a hand on me. Those of you who are honest farmers and homesteaders look around. Do you recognize more than half a dozen faces? Do you wonder who these men are, and why strangers should be so interested in defending you? They’re Croley’s men, a paid gang of rustlers, who have been systematically preying on all our herds, large and small. They kill at night and sell the meat the next day. How many times have you have found a butchered cow or steer? These are the men responsible.”

Several pairs of eyes rolled nervously from side to side, but rustlers outnumbered honest men, and Cord’s guns held them as firmly in place as they did the rustlers. Then a shot sounded from behind Cord and he fell to the ground, his guns falling uselessly at his side.

“Shot in the back like he deserves,” crowed Ira, triumphant at last.

Croley bent over the body. “Your aim’s no better than it ever was, Roy,” he said to a man stepping up from a small depression where he had been asleep after standing the night watch. “You only hit him in the shoulder.”

“Tie him to the wagon,” Ira said. “He won’t escape this time.”

“We ain’t got no right to do that,” said one of the farmers, plucking up enough courage to speak up.

“Anybody who doesn’t like what he sees had better watch the fight from another ridge,” Croley said, facing the group around him. “And anybody getting in the way is liable to find himself sitting next to Stedman.” Nobody moved, but when Croley turned his attention to moving Cord’s inert body, several men wandered away from the group as inconspicuously as possible.