Longhorn Country Read online

  ‘Pa, Blaine’s in some kind of a tizzy over Clem. Told him he’s fired.’

  ‘What kinda tizzy?’

  Lucas shrugged. ‘Nothing much – Clem had worked his butt off getting those steers out of the brush above the riverbend, turned ’em out to graze a spell while he took a smoke. He was that tuckered he fell asleep. Blaine come in like a high wind outta the north, cracked a couple of his ribs, then beat him up….’

  ‘For fallin’ asleep on the job?’ queried the older O’Day.

  Lucas pursed his womanish lips and shrugged. ‘Couple of the cows’d wandered upstream a little and went into the river….’

  Morg sat straighter in his chair. ‘At the high bend? Where the quicksand is …?’

  Lucas nodded briefly, trying to play down the seriousness of this. ‘There was plenty of graze for ’em where Clem left ’em.’ Lucas licked his lips. ‘But, Pa, Clem can’t be blamed for that! He said it was hell busting those steers outta that brush in the sawtooths. You know what it’s like up there…. Pa, he’s a pretty good cowpoke. We can’t let him go just because he knocked himself out for the ranch and fell asleep. Hell, he only sat down for a smoke. He never meant to doze off … And they saved seven cows outta the ten, butchered one of the dead ones … Fernie’s gone to collect the meat now.’

  Morgan looked down to where Blaine was hanging his saddle across the top corral rail. ‘Tell Blaine I want to see him.’

  Lucas smiled. ‘Sure, Pa! Can I tell Clem he’s still drawing pay?’

  ‘Send Blaine up to me.’

  Lucas went away whistling. He knew he had talked his father around – hell, he’d had plenty of practice over the years. Why, he was even better at swinging things his way than was Kitty, and she could turn many a man to water with just a roll or two of those hazel eyes with the fluttering dark lashes….

  ‘The Old Man wants you up to the porch,’ Lucas said as Blaine headed for the wash bench.

  The tall man turned and looked soberly at his half-brother. ‘You wag your tail and let your tongue hang out on behalf of that son of a bitch Hardesty?’

  Lucas flushed. ‘No need for that! I’m the one has to see the ranch makes a profit and we can’t do that if we start firing our top hands in the middle of round-up.’

  Blaine looked hard at Lucas. ‘You figure Hardesty for a top-hand and I’m Governor of California.’

  Lucas flushed, moved uneasily. ‘Anyway, you don’t have the clout to fire the men here without first referring to me or Pa, Blaine!’

  Lucas swung away, flushing but smiling to himself, too: that was as good a chance as he’d ever had of putting that damn breed in his rightful place…!

  Blaine paused at the foot of the porch steps, one boot on the bottom tread. He thumbed back his hat, showing sweat-darkened hair. The sun threw a shadow of his hawklike nose across one bruised cheek.

  ‘You beat up on Clem pretty bad, looks like,’ opined Morgan. ‘But I see he got in a lick or two.’

  Blaine shrugged. ‘He riled me. Seems to think he can do what he likes – him and that pard of his, Clint Rendell. They’re both pains in the butt.’ He squinted at O’Day. ‘I’ve seen you favour ’em from time to time, too.’

  Morgan’s face hardened and he shook a stiff finger in Blaine’s direction. ‘You watch it! You don’t talk to me like that!’

  Blaine said nothing, his face unreadable. Morg let his breathing settle and said in a milder tone, ‘Clem’s a good man, even if he is a mite lazy. He’s worked for me for ten years. Likely feels he has a right to cut a few corners.’

  ‘You’re the one pays his wages.’

  O’Day’s mouth tightened into a thin slash beneath his drooping frontier moustache. He sighed. ‘You just don’t give a damn, do you?’

  ‘I give a damn – where it matters.’

  ‘And who decides that?’

  Blaine merely held the old man’s gaze. ‘So what happens? Hardesty stays?’

  Morg hadn’t really made up his mind when he had sent for Blaine but now he nodded curtly: Damn, Blaine! The man was just too hard for his own good at times. If he hadn’t given his word all those years ago, he might’ve. …

  ‘Yeah, I’m willin’ to give him another chance. And that means you are, too. He’s just another cowboy, but I’d watch him if I was you, Blaine. Clem Hardesty’s got a long memory – and one of the things he won’t forget is that you beat-up on him, and left him marked for all the others to see.’

  ‘Luke tell you we saved seven, and butchered one of the downers?’

  ‘He told me. You keepin’ pace with the round-up times? We can’t miss that drive or we’re in real trouble – Bank’s puttin’ on the pressure for a mortgage payment. I held out last time, borrowed more money to fence in them extra acres takin’ in Fool’s Canyon. But Hayden won’t stand for it this year.’

  ‘Use your influence. He’s Marsh Kilgour’s brother-in-law, ain’t he…?’

  Morg’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t make no nevermind – Marsh, I get along with. His sister, Abigail, never forgave me for marryin’ Gracie instead of her. She’ll influence Miles Hayden if it means makin’ things hard for me.’

  ‘You’ve made too many enemies over the years, Morg.’

  He never called O’Day ‘Pa’ like Lucas and Kitty, Morgan’s blood children, did. When Morgan had told him he was only part of the O’Day family because of his benevolence, he had specifically said, ‘Now you know your place, you can quit callin’ me “Pa”. You’re twelve year old, no real kin, so you can call me Morgan … I ain’t your real father: he’s dead. And you might’s well know, I was the one killed him. …’

  Blaine had never called O’Day ‘Pa’ since that landmark day, thirteen years ago.

  And never would.

  ‘Before she died in my arms, your Ma – my dear Katy – told me she had a four old son, fathered by that red devil, Yellow Wolf. She got me to promise with her last breath I’d raise you and take care of you for the rest of your life – It’s a promise I’ll keep. But you’ll never have my name and you’ll never be called “Adam” like she named you in this family. Katy married a man called Blaine because of family pressures, but we both knew we had been meant for each other. She never broke faith with Blaine and I never tried to make her. And I stayed true to Gracie till she died…. I’m damned if I’ll use your Injun name and while it churns my belly, “Blaine’s” what you’ll be called within my hearin’ from now on. It’ll be a constant reminder of my promise to Katy…. Man, I loved that woman so! If only we’d….’

  But he’d said enough that day.

  ‘I’ll work hard for you, Morgan,’ the boy had said flatly. ‘I’ll give you your money’s worth.’

  It was a cold, cocky tone, almost contemptuous. O’Day had flushed with anger then, came close to slapping that dark, narrowly-handsome face.

  ‘That don’t enter into it!’ he snapped. ‘I don’t give my word lightly – to anyone!’

  ‘Nor I, you’ve taught me that much.’

  O’Day still could call up the way the child-Blaine had stared back at him. Face narrow and sober, the eyes disturbing and unflinching, looking at him the way he looked at every white man and woman with that same stubborn pride and ‘don’t-push-me-around’ contempt that Morgan O’Day knew he had inherited from Yellow Wolf.

  At times he woke sweating in the night, wondering what else Blaine might have inherited from that savage.

  CHAPTER 2

  REVENGE

  Round-up was almost over and the final branding and preparations for the trail drive were proceeding well, when Kitty O’Day came back to Broken Wheel from her College For Young Ladies in St Louis for the summer break.

  Morgan had seen that she was named ‘Catherine’ but while Gracie was an easy-going wife, and knew she had been married on the rebound, she drew the line at calling her daughter ‘Katy’: it would be too much of a reminder of her husband’s unrequited love for Katy Blaine. She had insisted that everyone call the baby girl Kitty
and Morgan had let her have her way – there were some whirlpools in his conscience about the way he had treated Gracie from time to time, knowing he had made a convenience of her after Katy had been forced into her marriage with Adam Blaine. Who, when you got right down to it and, in some private moments, Morgan allowed, was not so bad, and had likely taken Katy as wife when he would have preferred some other woman. (Morgan was wrong there – Adam Blaine had loved Katy truly and ended up dying for her to prove it so, when he had stepped into the path of a bullet meant for her during a stage hold-up.) Not that it mattered now – that had been nigh on twenty years ago….

  Kitty had inherited all Gracie’s good looks, was a long-legged, coltish kind of girl, although she was now twenty-two years of age, a couple of years younger than Blaine. She knew Blaine was interested in her but while she was virtually the only white person he ever smiled at – or laughed with – he was careful to hide any show of affection from Morgan and Lucas or anyone else. She was also ‘interested’ in Blaine but after being with some of the other ‘young ladies’ at Madame Le Charme’s college she sometimes teased him. The older ‘young ladies’ had assured her this was the thing to do, and while she enjoyed it in one way, she was always kind of sad when she saw how he tried to hide the small hurt he felt each time.

  She was a breezy, bright young woman, and every man who worked on Broken Wheel worshipped her, and kept an inconspicuous eye on her when she rode alone on the range or into a part of the large ranch they considered held danger of any kind.

  Kitty knew this and found it gave her a quiet thrill to know so many tough men were doing this on her behalf. One of her friends at college, Miss Christina McGovern, of the Colorado McGoverns (discoverers and owners of the richest gold mine in the Territory) told her that what she felt was a thrill of power.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Christy!’

  Christina was far more sophisticated and worldly than Kitty O’Day – even told Kitty in confidence that she had slept with two different men, one almost as old as her father – and she assured her that it was indeed power that thrilled her so. ‘Women can control men, make them do whatever they want – just let them have their way occasionally to keep them happy and a young lady can go through life with everything she desires.’

  ‘Oh, Christy, that’s – that’s an awful thing to say! If Madame heard you….’

  ‘Pooh on Madame!’ Christina said recklessly, and showed Kitty the sapphire pendant she wore close to her breast beneath the mandatory choke-collar that was part of the college dress. ‘It’s set in gold on a gold chain – my latest beau gave it to me.’

  Kitty admired it but flushed as she said, ‘I’m afraid to ask what you had to – do – to get it.’

  Christina laughed, pushed her friend’s shoulder gently. ‘You know darn well – and I like it, so where’s the harm?’

  ‘But – when you get married. Your husband will – want you – pure!’

  ‘D’you think I don’t know how to act like a virgin? There’s nothing simpler, Kitty O’Day. You should grow up – you can’t be a child forever….’

  ‘Well, I think perhaps I’ll stay a “child” a little longer….’

  But Christina McGovern had aroused a certain curiosity in Kitty that made her blush even when she was alone and she allowed herself to think of how it must be for a man and woman to be together….

  As usual, Blaine saddled the grey, dappled Arab for Kitty on the first morning she was home and had it waiting when she appeared on the porch of the big log and riverstone ranch house. He had his black saddled, too, and was disappointed to see Kitty was not wearing her riding clothes.

  ‘Your horse awaits, lady,’ Blaine said and anyone else hearing him use such levity would stop dead in their tracks. For Blaine was known as a sober man, rarely smiling, taking life very seriously.

  ‘Oh, hello, Blaine.’ Kitty gave him a smile, warm enough, but fleeting. She seemed distracted in some way, looking beyond him to the activity in the pastures where the herd was gathering. ‘You’ll be going on the drive, I suppose.’

  He nodded, eyes watching her closely now, bringing a slight flush to her cheeks. ‘Couple of days and we’ll be on the trail – doesn’t give us much time. Are you coming for our usual ride…?’

  She hesitated, let her hazel eyes slide to him and just as quickly away. ‘I – don’t really feel like riding today, Blaine – I’ll leave it, I think – but don’t unsaddle Sunny. I may go a little later.’

  Disappointment was plain on his face but he covered quickly. ‘I’ll tether him in the shade – later, we have to get the trail brands on the last bunch and tomorrow Morgan wants me to burn a firebreak on the ridge. Day after, we’ll be headin’-em-up and startin’ for railhead….’

  Her look and tone softened. ‘I – I’m sorry, Blaine – But, truly, I’m not feeling all that well this morning. In fact, I’ve been off-colour for a couple of weeks now – I’ll see you before you go.’

  He hesitated. ‘You’ll be gone back to college before the trail drive’s over.’

  She nodded. ‘I said I’m sorry, Blaine! There’s nothing I can do about it!’

  She turned abruptly and went into the house. He frowned, started to lead the Arab towards the trees and shade. He scowled when he saw Clem Hardesty carrying a pack frame and straps crossing the yard, the man grinning from ear-to-ear, his bruises and swellings giving his face a lopsided look.

  ‘What’s funny?’ Blaine asked quietly.

  Hardesty stopped. ‘You dunno? You don’t recognize the brush-off when a gal gives it to you?’ He shook his head, still chuckling. ‘Oh, man! You got plenty to learn about women! She’s got herself a boyfriend back East, bet my britches on it.’

  ‘Get on with your chores, Clem,’ Blaine told him mildly and tethered the horse under the tree. ‘You’re lucky to still have a job.’

  But he threw a puzzled look towards the house before he started for the corrals where his own horse waited patiently.

  He rode out towards the pastures and Lucas, sitting at a portable table set up under some cottonwoods, called him across.

  ‘Blaine, I want you to check my count—’

  Blaine took the heavy, leather-bound tally book, glanced at Lucas. ‘Down much?’

  ‘That’s just it – I make it almost a hundred more than we expected.’

  ‘Hell, Hardesty and Rendell were s’posed to cut out any cows from the other spreads three days back.’

  Lucas shook his head. ‘They’re not to blame – I checked with them. They said they did the job, all right.’

  ‘I’ll believe that when I see for myself.’ He swung into saddle and lifted his reins, but before setting the black moving, asked casually, ‘You notice Kitty’s not so bright this time home?’

  Lucas frowned slightly as he glanced up. ‘Oh? Well, who knows with women? Specially young snooty ones like my sister – I’d like to know what really goes on at those socalled “Ladies Colleges”.’

  Creases cut two knife-strokes between Blaine’s grey-green eyes. ‘What’s that mean?’

  Lucas made an impatient gesture. ‘Oh, you know – young women away from home. Slippin’ out from the dorm at night. Hell, I used to do it all the time when Pa sent me to Cattleman’s College in Austin…. There’s a “Young Gentleman’s” School just down the street from where Kitty goes – wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got a boyfriend.’

  He looked sharply at Blaine: he had been talking idly, half his mind on his books, but saw now that Blaine was seriously worried and Lucas couldn’t resist twisting the knife he had unintentionally plunged into his half-brother. ‘Likely had some kind of lovers’ tiff. She’ll get over it … Er, I think Alamo’s waiting for you to help with that branding….’

  Blaine wheeled the black without a word and rode swiftly towards the herd and the impatient figure of Alamo Ames, Morgan’s trail boss….

  The burn-back was a hot, filthy job and it seemed to be one of the hottest days Blaine could recall. He had b
rought a couple of hands with him and a buckboard carrying casks of river water and several pails – just in case the fire got out of control.

  There was a rising wind, and its breath was like the blast from the maw of a furnace. Blaine had told Morgan it might be best to wait for a calmer day but O’Day was adamant.

  ‘You’ll be off on the drive tomorrow or the next day – you’re good at burn-backs, Blaine. I want that ridge cleared into a firebreak before you leave. If it was to go in a brushfire, it’d jump the river easily and sweep right on up here to the house. Besides, burnin’ off over-growth’ll give the grass a chance to grow through and we’ll have useable pasture for the herds … Indians know the benefit of burnin’ back.’

  Blaine didn’t argue but he saw the shrewd look in the Old Man’s grey eyes. It wasn’t often he reminded Blaine of his ancestry but when he did, he was never subtle about it … even if he believed he was.

  It was a hell of a job, kept him and his two helpers on the run for hours and finally he had to send down for more men. The wind’s direction had changed and the fire was sweeping towards the river. If the wind kept working around to the north it would lend the flames enough impetus to leap the river and reach the home pastures.

  His clothes were singed and ragged, his skin blistered here and there, a couple of places with burned flesh showing redly. His eyes stung and his throat was hoarse with a hacking rawness. His lungs felt hot and he was dizzy. Two of the other men had passed out with the heat and had to be doused with water. Smoke drifted down towards the herds and set the cows into restless bawling. Blaine figured they had most of the fire under control now and sent back the two men who had passed out to help Alamo and the others.

  The other two cowboys were in singed rags just like Blaine and he told them they could tip the last of the cask water onto the fire and then go back to the ranch for lunch and clean-up.

  ‘I’m gonna wash-up in the river, and make sure there’s no slow-burns left on the bank—’