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Authors: Giles Tippette

Cherokee (26 page)

BOOK: Cherokee
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I said, going down to my horse, “That must have been mighty hard on you.”
He looked puzzled. “Hard on me? Whatever in the world are you talking about?”
“Oh, a young buck like you was then, cut off from his wife. She was scairt to get with child again. And delicate as she was, it might have killed her birthing another baby. Kind of left you doing without, didn't it?”
I stepped up on my horse. His color had deepened appreciably. He said awkwardly, “That ain't no way for you to be speaking about the memory of your mother. The woman was a saint.”
“I reckon to put up with you she'd of had to be,” I said. “But I reckon she give in to your wants finally, though.”
He was in deep water and stepping carefully from rock to rock. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, she'd of had to have. Ben got born, didn't he?”
He stared at me, not saying anything, just sitting there with his drink in his hand. Now he knew that I knew. And he also knew that I had put him in a position where he couldn't talk about it, couldn't give his side of it. I didn't want to hear his side of it. If he'd of wanted to tell it, he'd had plenty of years to do it in.
Just before I rode away I said, “Funny thing, Howard. I was up there on that Cherokee reservation and folks kept taking me for an Indian. How come that, I wonder?”
I didn't give him time to answer, just turned my horse and rode off to look for Ben.
CHAPTER 12
I found Ben out looking over the horse herd. He was having his
vaqueros
run the herd past him single file so he could get a look at the more than seven hundred horses. Hays was on the other side of the slim stream of horseflesh. I waited until the last horse had passed, and then rode up beside Ben and gave him the good news about Norris. He didn't say anything for a moment, just took off his hat and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. He put his hat back on and shook his head and said, “Whew! Goddam, that's good to hear. Even if he is as hard to get along with as an old maid steeped in vinegar. I been having a hard time studying on these horses, I been thinking about him so steady. Him and Shay Jordan. I'd about decided to shoot Jordan to pieces a little at a time. Now I'll just shoot him clean.”
“No,” I said. “You're not. You're not going to have anything to do with it.”
He turned around and looked at me. “You ain't letting him get away with that, are you?”
I grimaced. “Don't talk like a calf. Of course not. I'll handle it.”
He flared up. “You? How come you? Norris is just as much my brother as he is yours. And that Shay Jordan is nearer my age. By God, Justa, you are not going to stop me on this. An' you better make up your mind to it.”
I said carefully, so there'd be no misunderstanding, “The very noise you are making is the reason I'm going to handle it. I don't want to start a blood feud in this country, and you haven't got any more sense than to say the hell with it and go right ahead. I'm going to handle it because I know when to stop. You don't. If it comes to shooting that will be up to Shay, but I'm not going to draw a gun first. I'm going to pay him back in kind. I'm going to break his arm. Now whether I do it with a bullet or over my knee is of no consequence to me. But that will be the end of it.”
Ben said, “Huh! That's what you think. Listen, I been asking around. His uncle, Luther? That sonofabitch is meaner than hell. And he's just out of prison in Matamoros. You think that bastard is going to be willing to say that's an end to it?”
I said, as grimly as I could, “Ben, it is all planned and it don't involve you.” I told him how I'd arranged for Lew Vara to carry the word out to the Jordans, and how I was going to meet Shay in the morning at ten o'clock and that I would be alone. “We are going to meet at the northwest corner of that drift fence and settle the matter. Now you wanted to go into town today and see Norris. All right, you and Hays can take off. You've got plenty of daylight left and I'm sure Norris would welcome some company. Ask Adams if you can take him in some whiskey.”
He looked at me for a long time, maybe half a minute. “You're going to ride out to that drift fence by your lonesome?”
“Yes.”
“Just expecting Shay to show up.”
“I told Lew to tell him that if he didn't show up I'd shoot every Jordan I saw on sight. Lew will probably tell him I just intend to beat the hell out of him. He'll show up. He can't take the risk and not do it. Lew will convince him.”
“Oh, I ain't got a doubt that Shay will show up. Him and half his family.”
“That's wide-open prairie. You can see for miles. If more than him is coming, I'll have plenty of time to make other plans. Now you and Hays get on into town. Get drunk, have a good time. I'll see you tomorrow. I may have something I want to talk to you about.”
He just looked at me and shook his head. “And to think I always looked up to you because I thought you was so smart.”
I ignored the remark and asked him if he'd seen Harley, our foreman. Hays had ridden over close and kept his mouth shut while Ben and I were having the argument about Shay Jordan. Now Hays said, pointing, “Boss, I think he's down thar on the south range. They got a pretty good herd gathered there and are cutting out the shippers.”
I said to Ben, “How's Harley coming along with the cut?”
He was still sulking a bit. But he said, “I reckon he's just about finished. Didn't you notice the amount of cattle they got held up near the headquarters range?”
“Ben, I ain't been able to ask Norris. Do you know if he got the stock cars arranged with the railroad before he got shot?”
He shook his head. “I don't know.”
“Then you better look into that when you get into town. Make that the first thing you do. You got any idea how many cattle Harley finally thinks he'll be able to get?”
“He told me somewheres between a thousand and 'leven hunnert. Closer to 'leven hunnert.”
“Then you better see to those cars. We either ship 'em or feed 'em, and I'd a hell of a lot rather ship 'em. Does anybody know what the market is doing?”
Hays said, “I hear'd it's still up.”
I said, “Well, I'm going to find Harley. I want to start moving cattle toward the rail spur day after tomorrow.”
I was starting to turn my horse away when Ben said, “We might have more important matters to attend to.”
I was far enough around so I had to turn to look back at him. “Like what?”
He said, “Your funeral. You ride out there depending on the honor of the Jordans.”
I didn't say anything, just touched my spurs to the horse's belly and set out to look for Harley. I wanted to be able to give Norris the good news that I was getting him some money to invest. That'd be the best medicine I could put in his hands.
I spent a quiet evening with Nora that night. After supper she was surprised to see me bring my whiskey into the parlor and settle down with her. She said, “You're not going up to the big house for your usual confab?”
I shook my head. She was over on the settee darning one of my shirts. I did not believe it was possible for Nora, without company in the house, to sit down on the settee without her hands being busy with some kind of sewing or knitting or crocheting. At least I'd never seen her that way. I said, “Naw, hell, I haven't seen you in a week. Thought we'd do some catching up.”
“But you're a week behind on the ranch and the latest men-talk. And whiskey-drinking. What have you told Howard? About what Charlie Stevens told you?”
“To begin with, I ain't told you all of it yourself.”
“Stop saying 'ain't.' ”
“Howard took his time letting me in on some information. I reckon I'll do the same.”
“What haven't you told me?”
“What I haven't told you.”
“That's no answer.”
I poured myself a drink and got comfortable in my big overstuffed morris chair, which was just like the one Charlie Stevens had. I said, “It's all the answer you're going to get. I take it J.D. has calmed down on the teething business. He ain't squalled near as much as he was before I left.”
“Doctor Adams was out on his weekly visit to Howard. He came by and left me off some paregoric to rub on his gums. It does do the trick.”
I was very comfortable. My mind was a long ways away from the next day. We talked until about ten o'clock, not about much, but just the sort of quiet conversation men and their wives can make. I said, “It will be good to get things back to normal again.”
“What's normal for you, Justa? I've known you six or seven years. I mean known you close, and the nearest thing to normal for you is mostly trouble. What are you going to do about the Jordans?”
I yawned. “Well, one thing I'm not going to do is worry about them. That's what we pay a lawyer for.”
“No, I mean about the young one, the one that shot Norris.”
I looked at her. I'd learned it was much better to look at her straight if you felt a lie coming on. “What about him?”
She stopped darning. “Justa Williams, if you think that I believe you're going to let someone shoot your brother and not take some sort of action, then you've got another thing coming. Or else you believe I can be fooled mighty easy. Now tell me the truth. What are you up to?”
“Goddammit, Nora—”
“I have asked you and asked you not to swear in the house.”
“Yes, and we screw, but you won't let me say it.”
She raised her hands and let them fall back in her lap. “I never thought I'd hear the day you'd talk like that to your own wife. Who do you think I am, one of the floozies in Wilson Young's house of prostitution?”
I said, trying to keep from laughing at her pretended indignation, “How do you know Wilson has got a whorehouse?”
“Because he told me on his last visit. And now that you've succeeded in getting the 'little wife' off the subject of the Jordans, are you pleased with yourself?”
I went over and knelt down by her and put my head on her breast. “I know something that would please me more.”
 
I left my house at about nine-thirty the next morning, riding the big sorrel gelding. I'd decided he was about as steady as any animal I had around the place. It was a cool morning, but I'd eschewed a jacket, settling instead for a heavy shirt. I didn't expect guns to enter into it, but I still wanted to be as unencumbered as possible. I figured Shay for a bully, not a fool. I figured he'd know he couldn't match me in a shooting contest. Trying to frighten Norris was one thing, coming at me was another, and I reckoned he'd asked around and had been told.
I passed the headquarters house and saw Howard sitting out on the front porch taking the morning sun. He'd probably been up since four. He said it was hard to sleep when you got old. He said he didn't know if that was because you didn't need as much sleep, or you just didn't want to waste what time you had left on laying there with your eyes closed, which you'd be doing soon enough anyway. I gave him a wave, but he wasn't looking my way, and I was a good hundred yards off and his old eyes might not have been able to make me out at such a distance.
The end of the drift fence was, because of the direction it ran, nearly as close to town as it was to the ranch. It was at the far western edge of our deeded property, though we grazed cattle beyond it, but not so as to interfere with anybody else's grazing rights.
I rode slowly through the tall yellowing grass. As soon as we got the herd shaped up for shipping, we'd begin haying it with the big McCormick reaper every cowhand on the place hated with a vengeance. If you couldn't do it on a horse a cowboy didn't want any part of it, and we generally lost one or two good men every year during haying season just because they couldn't put up with it.
I was taking my time. There was no rush. For a minute or two I let my mind stray to Ben and Norris, wondering what I was going to tell them about the truth that had been withheld from us for so long. But there was no rush to decide. Norris was hurt, and what I knew really didn't matter that much. Certainly it didn't change anything.
Off to my left I could see the fence at a distance. Rather I could see the tops of the fence posts straggling along over the prairie; I certainly couldn't see the wire. I turned my horse slightly to the north a little more so as to hit the end of the fence when I arrived at it. I was in a part of the prairie that was a little more rolling than flat, and I couldn't see any sign of Shay Jordan. That didn't mean he wasn't coming; it just meant he might be hidden down in a meadow or behind a little hummock.
I kept riding, and then I saw him. I traced the line of the fence with my eye and saw that he was already at the end of it, about two hundred yards away. I put light spurs to the gelding and loped him until only about thirty paces separated me and Shay. Then I pulled the sorrel down into a walk and headed straight toward where Shay was sitting his horse. As I approached I shifted my eyes back and forth over the near terrain. It was just high-grass prairie with no trees or anyplace else to hide. It looked empty. I figured Lew had succeeded in convincing the boy that the only way to end the trouble was to show up and take his medicine.
With about ten yards between us I pulled up my horse. I didn't waste any time on pleasantries. I said, “You shot my brother. I'm here to settle the matter.”
He might have been a fairly handsome young man except for the sneering, insolent look on his face. He said, “He pulled a gun on me.”
“No he didn't. And you know he didn't and I know he didn't.”
“What, was you thar?”
“Don't get smart with me, boy. You and I both know how that gun got on the floor. Maybe it matters to the law, but it don't matter to me. Now, how you want to settle this?”
“You whupped my pa. Th'owed down on him with a pistol and whupped him. I was jest evenin' the score.”
“I used a gun to make your pa get off his horse. He was making threats and I was going to settle it. It was a fair fight. If he told you different he's a liar. Now you Jordans don't seem to be willing to let this land dispute be settled in court. I reckon, then, we'll get it settled here and now. I'm gonna break your goddam arm just like you broke my brother's. I can do it with a bullet, though I got to warn you I ain't that good of a shot and I might miss and hit you in the chest. Or I can do it with a fence post. It's your choice. But I can guarantee you that you are leaving here today with a broke arm.”
“Like hell I will,” he said. He let his hand come up near the butt of his gun. His horse took a nervous pace or two toward me. I was watching his horse; the animal was jittery, not well-trained. One gunshot and he'd probably go to bucking.
I said, “Boy, you better give this some thought. You are setting yourself up to be looking at the inside of a pine box. Get off that horse and take a licking. And this is my last warning.”
BOOK: Cherokee
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