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Authors: John Thomas Edson

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BOOK: Slaughter's way
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In view of Slaughter's reply, one thing was for cer-56

tain sure; the Taggerts were unlikely to be around to steal any more catde. One way or another, the Taggert brothers' stay in Blantyre County had come to an end with Slaughter and Trace's visit. That much the J.S. hands fcaew without needing the aid of any fancy speechifying to explain it to them. The only thing remaining xmexplained was the manner in which the brothers left the area, and that was likely to remain a mystery for quite a spell.

Seeing the manner in which his wife eyed him up and down, Slaughter thought and acted with his usual speed. Ignoring the circle of cowhands who stood watching, he scooped Bess into his arms and planted a kiss fuU on her Hps.

"Could we run to having Wash and Tex over to the house for supper, honey?*' he asked, releasing her and speaking before she could get imflustered. "I want to jaw out a few things with them."

"Bring them along," Bess replied. "I'll go lay the table while you tend to tibe horses and wash up."

Watdiing his wife depart in the direction of the house, Slaughter grinned a little to himself. He reckoned he had slipped out of that tricky situation real neatly, even though he needed to waste a few words to do it. Apart from having to settle the final details for cutting the petalta^ deciding whether they would need to gather in any more cattle to complete the trail herd, and picking the members of the ranch crew who would go along on the drive, Slaughter wanted company when he first went into the house.

Given good cause, Bess could blister a mans hide with her tongue, and John Slaughter reckoned he might have handed his wife that cause. He had not failed to notice the expression of mingled anxiety and relief on her face as she came toward him, and knew Bess must have been worried almost sick by his long absence. Now, after worrying her for hours, he rode up all bright, chirpy and without a scratch on his ornery hide. Knowing women in general, and Bess in particular. Slaughter figured Bess was likely to be fit to be tied after fretting for so long, then to see him ride up all unharmed and

uninjured. One way or another he reckoned he deserved a good spur-raking for making her worry, but nobody could blame a man for tr>ing to avoid one.

Slaughter knew danged well that after attending to the mending of the Taggert brothers' ways he ought to have sent Washita Trace home with word of what had happened, so as to reheve Bess's anxietv'. However, toting in the three bodies had been a two-man chore, so Slaughter did not send word to his wife. On reaching Blantyre City with the bodies. Slaughter learned that the coimty sheriff was due in at around sundown. The town marshal's legal jurisdiction ended on the edge of city limits and the affair of the Taggerts' redemption did not come into his baihwick. So Slaughter and Trace waited for the sheriff to arrive, turned over the bodies to his care and made their statement of w^hat had happened. The sheriff pronounced that not only had Slaughter acted in the best possible manner, but that he ought to have gotten around to it earlier. A search of the brothers produced the three hundred dollars Chisum paid for the fatal hundred head, and this the sheriff turned over to Slaughter, who promised to have it de-Hvered to the Cattle King as soon as possible.

The trouble was that all this took time, and while Slaughter was attending to the legal aspects of the affair, his wife sat at home worrying her heart out over his welfare.

"Anyway,'' Slaughter thought, as he turned to his horse and watched the hands heading back to the bunk-house, "I got out of that real sUck."

Or had he?

In the kitchen Bess ladled hot stew from a saucepan onto three plates, w^hile Coonsldn poured out coffee made in the range tradition of being strong enough for one to stand a spoon upright in it. After putting out the stew, Bess took up a pepper pot and began to sprinkle a liberal amount over one of the plates.

"Give John the plate with the red border. Coon-skin," she ordered.

"Yes-sir, Miz Bess," the cook replied, his eyes stand-

ing out like twin organ stops. "But Mr. John don t like pepper on his food, ma'am.''

"I know."

Looking at Bess, the Negro grinned to himself and said no more, although he thought plenty. Any way a man looked at it, ladies was the same no matter what color their skin. Once a man got them all riled up, they siure enough knew a devil of a load of ways to make him suffer for it. Yes sir, and that Miz Bess there, she sure knew how to teach Mr. John a lesson. Not that Coonskin disapproved of the lesson in this case. Him and the rest of the boys had been worried near as much as Miz Bess when Mr. John and Mr. Wash didn't come back. Not that they figured the boss and Mr. Wash couldn't deal with diem Taggert trash, only one never knowed what might happen when associating with evil bad-whites like them ornery brothers.

Bess looked like butter would have a hard time melting in her mouth as she sat facing her husband along the table in the dining room, with Washita Trace at her left and Tex Burton on the right side. Coonskin served the food equally without expression, setting down the plate with the red border before his boss and continuing to serve the other two men.

On his first taste of the stew. Slaughter looked along the table and studied his wife's face. Both she and Coonskin knew that he did not take pepper on his food, and yet, unless he was mistaken, somebody had piled a fair slew of it on his stew. One glance told Slaughter that his wife had not forgotten his tastes and being a good, sensible husband, he carried on eating, taking his punishment like a man. He only hoped tihat Bess was not so riled that she had oversugared his coffee.

The meal went by without any other retaliatory measures being taken, and after eating the three men gathered by the fireplace, sitting in comfortable chairs as they discussed the running of the ranch. While talking, John Slaughter and Washita Trace cleaned their Colts and Tex Burton knew enough about guns to see both men's weapons had been fired that day. He asked

no questions, but told what he and the ranch crew accomplished during the day.

'"We cut near on all the marketable stuff out of the pet alia,'' Burton said, nodding his thanks to Coonsldn as the latter brought a tray of drinks to them. "I reckon another day's cutting ought to see us with three thousand head ready to move out/'

"Keep the boys at it in the morning," Slaughter replied. "\Ve'll need eighteen hands for the trail crew, Tex. I don't want to take more than ten of the regular hands. Unless Wash can't handle things if I take the ten."

"Reckon I can get by," Trace answered. "Happen anything comes up, I can likely take a couple or so hands on."

TDo that, Wash. Tex, how about the other eight we'll need?"

"I've been passing word around, likely theyTl be along."

Bess left her husband and the men to their talking. Not that they sat for long, for none of them believed in wasting time in idle gossip. All three would be up at da\^Ti and could look forward to at least ten hours of hard work the following day, so all aimed to catch all the sleep they could. Once the trail drive started, sleep was a thing nobody managed to get enough of. Nor would the depleted crew at the ranch be in much better position to get their heads on a pillow, for they would each be doing the work of two men.

After seeing his men out Slaughter returned to the sitting room. He found Coonsldn had finished work for the day and just returning from allowing the blue-tick a chance to relieve itself outside.

"Did you put that pepper on my stew?" he growled

"Who, sah, me, sah?"

"Yes, sir, you, sir!"

"Why, not me, sah," Coonskin replied. "And I wishes to state that whoever done it has my sympathy."

"Has, huhr

**Yes, sah. Mr. John, sh—^whoever it was sure has. 60

Why we all was worried plumb all ways when you never come back/'

"I came back/' Slaughter pointed out.

'"Yes, sir. But not until after you d got us all worrying"

With that Coonskin took his hiuried departure. Slaughter watched his cook go and treated himself to one of his rare grins. While he could not see why his crew hked him, it seemed like they did. However, there was an important matter to be dealt with. Mrs. Slaughter must be taught that she could not get away with putting pepper in his stew.

Taldng up his gunbelt, Slaughter glanced at the blue-tick, who had already settled down on a chair by the fire.

*'Don t ever get married, Blue," he advised and went to the table to blow out the lamp.

The moment Slaughter entered his bedroom, he saw that Mrs. Slaughter expected stirring times. She only wore that flimsy nightdress when she wanted to take his mind oflF something; like when she bought a hat for more than it was worth, or fixed it that the local tailor was coming out to measiure him for a fancy cutaway jacket and all the frills.

Sitting on the bed and combing her hair, Bess looked about sixteen years and she still had a figure as good as any gal in the whole danged country. Nor did the nightdress do anything to hide the fact. Slaughter almost forgot his intentions as he placed his gunbelt on the dressing table and stripped off his bandana and shirt—^which was what Bess hoped would happen when she put the nightdress on.

Neither spoke as he jacked off his boots and stood them in the comer, then Slaughter turned and walked toward Bess. She had fimshed combing her hair and sat watching him advance across the room.

"I've got a real mean wife," he told her.

*"! bet she doesn't understand you," Bess replied, not relaxing and watching him warily.

"Tell you something," he grinned, "she understands me too damned well."

With that he jumped forward, meaning to grab her, put her over his knee, threaten to paddle her bare seat if she did not say she was sorry for putting the pepper in his stew.

Only like he said, Bess knew him real good. Even as he jimiped, she rocked over, rolling backwards and off the bed with a pair of shapely legs appearing as the nightdress hem slipped down in obedience to the laws of gravity. Showing a surprising agihty, Bess turned a rear roll and landed on her feet beyond the bed, while her husband landed face down upon the coimterpane. Stepping forward, she grabbed a double handful of his hair and pidled it hard enough to make him yelp.

^That's for worrying me,'' she told him.

Coming to his feet. Slaughter bounded over the bed and advanced toward Bess as she backed off across the room. Of course it would not have done for him to catch her too quickly, as part of the pleasure of hunting was in the chase. So he let her slip by him a couple (rf times, getting closer to her each time.

Only in such moments of privacy with his wife did Slaughter relax and show the warm, tender, friendly and goodhearted man under the grim exterior. At such a time Bess knew again the reason she had married him. She had seen the true man beneath the outer shell and recognized the real John Slaughter. However, it was very pleasant to be reminded of why she loved her man.

Suddenly Slaughter caught Bess's right wrist as she tried to dart by him. With a pull, he turned her and brought her into this grasp. Instantly her arms went aroimd his neck and her mouth crushed to his.

"*! love you, Bess Slaughter," he told her as they separated mouths.

"And I love you," she replied, then remembered her grievance. "John, why didn't you send word—^"

Having no wish to start explaining such things Slaughter took an easy way out. Down came his head, his lips ending the question unsaid. However, Bess did not intend to be robbed off so easily; or maybe she had

an idea what Slaughter planned to do in revenge for the pepper in the stew.

"You ought to have— '* she began and he kissed again, easing her back a few steps in the direction of the bed. "You should have— '' another kiss, another few steps toward safety, "Why did— ''

The goal was attained. Bess's legs struck the edge of the bed and she fell backwards, her locked arms around Slaughter s neck, taking him down with her. At that moment the lamp, which had been turned down low, burned out.

"Go on," Slaughter breathed as he separated from a silencing kiss. "Say something."

She looked up at him through the darkness and smiled. Her body felt warm and inviting and her hands left his neck.

"Do we need to talk anymore?" she asked.

"Never was one for talking," he replied.

The ringing bellow of the blue-tick's bugle baying jerked the Slaughters awake at two in the morning. Extracting himself from Bess's arms. Slaughter swung himself out of bed and went to the window, raising its sash so he could both look out and listen to die noises of the range.

"Rider coming up fast!" he said.

Whoever the approaching rider might be, he was burning grass up under his horse's belly; and a man did not risk galloping his horse through die night unless he bore urgent or important news.

Not imtil her husband left the window did Bess leave the bed. She lit the lamp and picked up her discarded nightdress to don it. Slaughter grabbed up his pants and drew them on, then he sHd out his Colt and ignored the shirt. This was no time to worry about appearances and a loaded Colt might be less embarrassing than being seen with a naked chest. Bess wriggled into the nightdress and put on her long woollen dressing gown, watching her husband leave the room. Having been bom in the range country, Bess knew better than to pick up the lamp and follow. John knew his

way around the house well enough not to need lighting downstairs; and until he knew who the approaching rider might be and what brought him to the ranch at such an hour, it would be better if he did not oflEer a clear target by being illuminated from behind.

Going downstairs, Slaughter made his way along the hall to the front door. Already the blue-tick stood by it but was neither growHng nor keeping its back hair held up. From the lack of those signs, and the fact that the hound's tail wagged from side to side. Slaughter knew it must be a friend approaching. Nor did it take much thinking which friend came in such a hiury. While there were four men riding night herd on the petalta and the cut-out bunch, and Insomny Sam was out with the re-muda, the rider came from the wrong direction for it to be one of them.

BOOK: Slaughter's way
10.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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