J. Edson - Ranch War

“I’ll go lend Corey-Mae a hand,” Calamity announced and left before Trinian could agree or object.

Waving the Kid to a chair at the table, Trinian sat across from him. The Kid offered his makings and they rolled cigarettes.

“You found them two hosses straying back there?” Trinian asked, after they had lit up their smokes.

“Yep,” drawled the Kid. “Shouted some, fired off a couple of shots, trying to get an answer from whoever’d lost ’em. Even tried to back-track ’em but couldn’t. So we reckoned we’d best take ’em into Hollick City and hand ’em over to the sheriff. Only we saw your place and wondered if they belonged to your hands. Reckoned you’d want to know if they did.”

“They don’t.”

“You know who does own ’em? There can’t be many folks riding Mexican saddles up this way.”

“I’ve not seen one for some time now. Mexican called Ruiz used to ride a sabino, with a saddle like that, but he’s not around anymore that I’ve seen.”

“We’d best take ’em into town then,” drawled the Kid. “Only there’s some tin stars who’d just keep, or sell the hosses, without trying to find who owned ’em.”

“Day Leckenby’s not that kind!” Trinian stated flatly. “If you found them in his bailiwick, he’ll do everything he can to learn where the riders are at. He’s a straight lawman. I was his deputy until I come out here and I know him.”

“Like you say, you’d know him,” the Kid replied. “Anyways, all Calam ’n’ me want to do is hand ’em over and find some place to bed down until Dobe Killem’s freight outfit gets here.”

“Are you going in for freighting now?”

“Nope. Only Calam’s done stood by us floating outfit boys in a couple of mean fusses and I reckoned I’d see her settled safe with her folks afore I headed back to Texas. Somebody tried to kill her in Mulrooney.”

“They did?” Trinian asked, looking interested.

“Twice. Once in her hotel room and again on the streets, that’s how I come into it.”

“Did you get the feller who tried it?”

“Sure did.”

“Why’d he want to kill her?” Trinian asked.

“Had to kill him to stop him doing it,” the Kid replied, watching the other’s face for some emotion. “So we couldn’t ask. Kail Beauregard was looking into it when we left.”

If Trinian knew anything about the attempts, he hid it very well. Not wanting to arouse the other’s suspicions by taking the matter further, the Kid changed the subject to the ranching prospects of Nebraska.

In the kitchen, Calamity peeled off her jacket, washed her hands and face, then went to help Corey-Mae make the meal.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” the girl remarked. “I bet you’re real proud to own it.”

“We don’t own it,” Corey-Mae corrected while setting a skillet on the stove.

“You don’t?”

“No,” the woman answered, sounding a touch bitter. “We only rent it from the feller who owns it.”

“Doesn’t he run it?”

“That shows you don’t know Howie Canary. He was a nice enough feller, but a foot-loose drifter. Afore he left, he put the title deed to the ranch in the name of his daughter back East. That riled Cash, I can tell you.”

“How come?”

“Cash wanted to buy the place. We was getting set to be married and he knew I wanted him in a safer job than a deputy sheriff.”

“You wound up here, anyways,” Calamity pointed out.

“Sure,” Corey-Mae agreed. “We wound up here. Howie wanted hard cash for the place to send to his daughter back East. We didn’t have it right then, so he told us to come out here, work the place and pay its taxes and, when we could afford it, buy it from the gal.”

“Looks like you got a bargain.”

“You should have seen it when we first moved out here. The whole place was tumbling apart. Cash and the boys’ve worked real hard to make it look this good. And it doesn’t just look good, it’s a paying proposition. What riles me is that we’ve done all this work and some Eastern gal who’s never seen the place can take it and sell it out from under us if she feels that way inclined.”

“Why don’t you try buying it off her?” Calamity asked.

“We’re trying to,” Corey-Mae answered. “Lawyer Endicott in Hollick’s sent word East trying to find this Canary gal. If he does, we’re willing to pay her six thousand dollars for the place. Hell, I know it’s worth maybe three, four thousand more, but it’s our work that’s made it that way. And we’re having to pay Pinkertons to find her. It’s not a bad price, Calam, when all the ranch cost Howie was the time he spent in a poker game. He won it off the feller’s used to own it.”

“Getting it this good cost you a heap more than that,” Calamity said softly and was about to disclose her identity when the woman’s face hardened.

“It cost us too much to let anybody push us off!” Corey-Mae said harshly.

“Is somebody trying to?” Calamity inquired. “I saw the way your crew watched us as we rode in.”

“Florence Eastfield, up at the sawmill, wants our land,” Corey-Mae answered. “Don’t ask me why. There’s no timber on this side of the Loup. Not enough to make cutting it worthwhile, anyways.”

“Has she been making fuss for you?”

“Not fuss, exactly. Day Leckenby, the sheriff, keeps her boys and our’n apart in town, or they might’ve locked horns a couple of times. Eastfield offered to buy us out. And when we told her we couldn’t sell, even if we wanted to, she hinted that she could top any offer we made to the Canary gal. Damn it all, Calamity, I don’t know why I’m burdening you with our troubles.”

“Sometimes just talking about them helps,” Calamity replied. “Food’s near on done. Can I start to setting the table?”

“Go to it.” Corey-Mae smiled.

Throughout the meal, the conversation was on general matters. At its end, Calamity offered to help wash the dishes.

“Maybe you’d best get those hosses took into Hollick for the sheriff,” Trinian suggested.

“It’d be best,” the Kid agreed. “Thanks right kindly for the meal, ma’am.”

Leaving the house, Calamity and the Kid readied their horses, mounted and started to ride back along the track. Turning in her saddle, the girl waved. Corey-Mae answered, then went inside after her husband. Facing the front, Calamity told the Kid what she had learned.

“You didn’t let on that you’re that Canary gal from ‘back East,’ which’s all to the good,” the Kid replied, then explained that he had not learned much from Trinian. “Maybe he’s just uneasy around Texans.”

“I knowed there was something I liked about him, that being the case,” Calamity grinned, then lost the smile. “Those folks’re facing a raw deal, Lon.”

“Maybe they felt like changing it,” the Kid hinted.

“Not Corey-Mae!”

“Maybe not her. But Lane didn’t have many angels riding with him and Cash Trinian didn’t strike me as a man who’d easy give up anything he wanted.”

“You just don’t like Yankees,” Calamity accused.

“I get on real good with some Yankees,” the Kid corrected. “Trinian’s not much of a talker. Unlikely as it is, us being so all-fired noble and easy to get on with, he mightn’t like Texans. Or he may be up to something sneaky, like that play in Mulrooney. That being so, he’d be real watching with his words to somebody who’d come up from there in a hurry and’d worn a deputy’s badge in town.”

“You mean he hired them two jaspers?”

“Could be. He let on that he knowed a Mexican who owned a sabino, but no more than that. Even with what he’d have to pay The Outfit, it’d likely come out cheaper and more certain killing you rather than offering to buy you out.”