Passin' Through (1985) (11 page)

Everything seemed just as I'd left it. What gear I had I put together, although it wasn't much. Then I sat down on the bed to think.

That will I'd found worried me. Mrs. Hollyrood had gone to the law with Phillips' will and they had accepted it. No doubt it was later than this one, although from the date it could not have been much later.

Why would a man who left everything to his "beloved niece" completely disown her in another will? And where was that niece? Had Phillips ever spoken of her to Mrs. Hollyrood?

Now I was no lawyer, and knew too little of such things, but I had a hunch that the will I had was important and should be submitted to the court. But why? Phillips had written another will, had given everything to Mrs. Hollyrood, and that was all there was to it. Nobody seemed to have made any protest but Lew Paine and for him I had no sympathy. If he felt she was wrongfully in possession he should have gone to the law. This country was changing. The old rough stuff didn't go anymore.

It disappointed me that Mrs. Hollyrood was thinking of selling the place. It was too good a ranch, and one with a lot of free land around for grazing. Most of the time she wouldn't need more than one hand, so it would be cheap to operate.

Those men who attacked me today, one at least had been one of Lew Paine's men. I'd shot to put them out of action, so was hoping I'd killed nobody. That last man, however, about him I wasn't sure. One thing was a cinch. They'd be careful next time. If there was a next time. I was going to light a shuck.

Nobody around here knew me, and anybody I had trouble with would have friends. Mrs. Hollyrood was pulling out and I'd no reason to stay on, so every bit of common sense I had warned me to ride out and ride fast.

Lew Paine and his boys or the Burrows outfit might want my hide stretched, but I had nothing against them. All I wanted was to be alone in the mountains, hunting a little, prospecting a mite, and just generally enjoying the country. Somewhere in my breeding there must have been a bighorn sheep because I surely did like the high-up country with the clouds for company.

First, I wanted a bill of sale on the blue roan. I'd buy the horse if they wouldn't give it to me like they'd said, and then I'd ride over to Parrott City and get myself some grub. After restin' up a mite I'd leave out of here at night and go back to pick up my horses and gear. That ride would take me all of three or four days but I'd travel by night, and ride into town in the night, too. I wanted no trouble.

There was a lamp lighted in the house now. Suddenly I wasn't anxious to go in, but I dearly wanted the roan and was afraid somebody would shoot it if I didn't ride out of here with it.

So I combed my hair, washed my hands, and went across the road to the house and rapped on the door, then stepped in like I'd been doing.

Matty was at the stove. "Sit down," she said, "I'll have it on in a minute."

"Mrs. Hollyrood around? I thought we might close the deal on that roan. Nobody seems to want the horse and she said I could have it."

"She will be out soon." Matty didn't look around at me. "She's had a lot to think about."

"If she sells out, I'd not like to have that horse go with the outfit. Lew Paine was fixin' to kill it."

"You'll have to admit the horse has a bad reputation," Matty said, "but I'd hate to see it killed."

"That Pinkerton is still around. He was camped about a half-mile Up the road."

Matty had no comment and in a moment she was putting food before me, then she brought her own plate and sat down across from me. She glanced toward the inner door, then said quietly, "I thought you'd be leaving."

"Yes, ma'am. I wanted a bill of sale for the roan." Did she want me to go? Why had she advised it? I looked at her again. I had never seen a woman so beautiful, with such a calm, still face. Only her eyes seemed to move or show expression, and now, I wonder I hadn't seen it before, she looked haunted.

"What is that Pinkerton man's name? Have you heard?"

"Told me hisself. He's Reed Bell."

The name seemed to mean nothing to her. "I wonder why he stays around? Is he so sure the person he wants is around here?"

I shrugged. "Maybe he likes the country. He's got himself a right nice camp, only he should watch himself. There's bears on the mountain above him. Tracks all over the place."

She was right behind me before I realized. I smelled her before I heard her, she moved that quiet. But that perfume she wore, it was a wonderful smell.

"Did you finish with your counting of cattle?" she asked, sitting down at the head of the table between us.

"Just about. I figure there's about seven hundred head on the place and that agrees with Phillips' tally. There's prob'ly a few drifted over in Spring Gulch or out east or west of here. Even when the grazin' is good there's always a few will wander off."

"Have you found a buyer for me?"

"Haven't had a chance. Today I had a run-in with some of Lew Paine's boys. You must have heard the shooting."

"I did." She glanced at me. "You seem to have

"They ran into trouble," I agreed. Changing the subject, I said, "I was wonderin' about the blue roan?"

"The Death Horse?" She looked at me. "I think you should have it." She looked over at Matty. "Will you give me the paper? And the pen and inkwell."

She took a piece of paper and wrote out a bill of sale for me. "There! The roan horse is yours, and you've earned it." She turned her eyes to me. "You are leaving?"

"Well, I've my gear and two horses up the country a piece. I thought I'd go get them, then stop back here for a day or two before I light out." I wasn't at all sure that once away I'd ever come back, but had an idea it was better to let her think that. Besides, I might just come back. I surely do hate to leave things half- done, and there were things here needed doin'.

"My idea was to leave here at night so's Lew Paine an' them wouldn't know I was gone."

"That is very thoughtful of you, but Mr. Paine does not worry me. In fact, I have been thinking of having a talk with him. Maybe if we talked he would see the error of his ways."

She changed the subject then and began to talk of the theater and of plays she'd been in like East Lynne and Lady of Lyons. It was mighty pleasant, sitting there in the soft light of the coal-oil lamps, with the smell of fresh coffee in the room, hearing her tell stories of that life so far from this.

"We had our troubles, too," she added. "Once when we were playing a small town on the Mississippi several men tried to break up the show. One of our men stopped it, but there was some shooting."

"Three of them? He must've been good."

"Parmalee Sackett? He was very skillful with a gun. Pd heard that he'd shot a riverboat gambler before he joined the company." She paused. "He really wasn't an actor but he did very well and could have made a career of it."

"What happened to him?" I was curious.

"Something happened out west. He left us very suddenly, in fact. I believe some relative of his was in trouble, but that was many years ago."

Goin' to plays an' such was something I'd never done much of, although here and there, in Tombstone or Deadwood, they had theaters puttin' on plays. I seen a play once in Denver, too. I mentioned that.

"Denver?" Her voice was a little higher. "I never had the opportunity to play there."

"Wasn't that where Mr. Phillips died?"

"Yes, yes, it was. My company had gone back east, however."

Folding the bill of sale, I put it in my shirt pocket. "I'd better get some rest."

"You sure you don't want to buy the ranch, Mr. Passin'?"

"Me? I ain't got that much. I'd have to strike another rich pocket before I could afford a ranch."

"Every little bit helps, though, Mr. Passin'. That's what I always say, every little bit helps. Now don't you forget" - she arose and gathered her robe about her - "when you come back by I want to fix you a nice supper, something really nice. You've been very kind."

"Yes, ma'am."

Outside in the night I mopped my forehead and wondered why I was sweating. It was cool out here and it had not been that warm inside.

I was riding west, all right, and I'd pick up my horses and come back through here. Maybe I'd stop over, but somehow I had a hunch that nice supper she planned to fix for me, somehow I didn't feel I'd ever get to eat that meal.

Maybe it was just a hunch, and maybe something more.

Chapter
Eleven

The way prices were these days I might have bought the ranch, but probably not. Lots of land was free for the taking. A man could homestead a place, and if he settled on a water hole he'd control the range all around. Grass was no good without water.

Right now I had more money than ever in my life before. I had twelve hundred and forty-six dollars. That was what I'd taken from that pocket I discovered, and besides that I had twenty-eight dollars of walking-around money. That is, I had that twenty-eight dollars when I found the pocket for spending along the way. The twelve hundred and forty-six was my stake, and right now I was going to head for the high-up hills, find myself a little camp, and contemplate.

I mean I had to think what I was going to do. When a man has always worked for the other fellow and never had more than his wages, that twelve hundred and forty- six dollars was a lot of money.

I was born poor and raised poor, and my pa was a hardworkin' man who always gave a day's work for a day's pay, the same as me. He never saw this much money in his whole life, I suspect, and I'd never had so much or even seen that much in any place but a gamblin' house. So I needed to contemplate.

Nobody needed to tell me I might never have so much again, although a man is always wishful about it. I'd never been a hand for whiskey. Oh, I took a drink now and again but had never been drunk in my life and never wanted to be. I always figured if I had my wits about me I could figure my way out of any corner I might get into, but a man drinking . . . well, his judgment's not that good, although he thinks it is.

Take Houston Burrows, now. He'd been drinking and now he was dead. Had he been sober he might have been a shade more cautious with a man he'd never seen before. Not that he would have been any luckier. He just wasn't anywhere near as good with a gun as he thought. It's easy to be a giant when you are walking among pygmies.

As for gamblin', I knew too much about it. I just left that to others, so I wasn't about to lose my money to some card mechanic or roulette wheel. Nor was I going to drink it up. All my life I'd worked for wages, except when prospec- tin', and never had more than thirty dollars a month. Now I had to get myself alone up above the aspen somewhere and just look out over a lot of country and think.

The work I'd done around the ranch, well, the roan was ample payment for that. I might have done it anyway, as those womenfolks were alone there and I just hate to see a place all run down like that. When I seen a load that needed to be carried it was just my nature to back up to it and carry it where it needed to be. That was the way with that ranch. I rode in there and saw that gate hanging on a broken hinge, saw broken rails and holes needed patchin' an' fence posts leanin' ever' which way . . . well, I just had to fix it up. I just don't know no better.

Folks have called me a hard man. It's just that I don't take to bein' pushed. Like that Burrows, now, I had nothing against him but I just hate to get shot.

Lead lies heavy on the stomach and a man can digest only so much of it. All I wanted that night was a drink to cut the dust out of my throat, then a meal and a bed. Killing a man is nothing to be proud of, even if the man is armed and coming at you. If it has to be done, you do it.

The granary was dark. I lighted the old lantern I had and looked around, then put the light out and undressed in the dark, not being a trusting man. Before I got into bed I pulled the latch string inside so nobody could open the door whilst I was sleeping.

Lying back on the bed with my hands clasped behind my head, I tried to think about the situation. What I should do was to take that will to a judge somewhere and leave it with him to do what he was of a mind to. Then I'd ride off down the trail.

The trouble with my trying to think of a nighttime is that whilst my intentions are good I always fall asleep. So when daybreak came I was no further along. I just saddled up the buckskin and took the trail to Parrott City. Only I didn't follow the trail. I just didn't want to be anywhere I might be expected to be.

Parrott City was warm in the sunshine when I rode into town, and I tied the buckskin and went to an eating joint. It was better than when I was there before, with red-and-white checkered tablecloths and even curtains in the windows. A man and his wife were running the place and they set a good table. And that was just what it was, two long tables with benches on either side.

I picked a place where I could watch the door and ordered breakfast. Looking at the grub they put before me, they must have figured I was a whole roundup crew, but it was remarkable what I did to it.

When I had surrounded and destroyed about half of what they put before me the door opened and that girl came in. She came in, and as I was the only person eating she came right over to me.