Ralph Compton - Death Rides a Chestnut Mare

“Ma,” said Carrie, “I’ll make us some coffee. The rest can wait.”

“It sure can,” Tuck said. “Do we even have a coffeepot anymore?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Carlyle, “but I have no idea where it is.”

“You can search for it later,” Tuck said. “For now, boil it in an open pot, and we’ll add some cold water to settle the grounds.”

“I’ll go ahead and start breakfast,” said Mrs. Carlyle. “Carrie and I have already eaten, but I’d dearly love to have a biscuit.”

“Ma,” Tuck said, “I’ve told Daniel our problems here, and he’s come up with a way we can get our cows to market at Abilene. Tell her what you told me, Daniel.”

“Dear God, yes,” said Mrs. Carlyle.

Quickly, Danielle repeated what she had suggested to Tuck as they had ridden in.

“But we have no money for an outfit,” Carrie said.

“I have some money,” said Danielle. “It would buy enough grub to get you there with your herds.”

“But you’ll need what you have as you search for those killers,” Mrs. Carlyle said. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I believe it would be more than fair,” Danielle said. “I think that bunch of outlaws in Indian Territory will come after the herd. So you see, I have a selfish reason for wanting you to make that drive to Abilene. I’ll be going with you.”

“God bless you for making the offer,” Mrs. Carlyle said. “Tuck, what do you think?”

“I think we’d better talk to Elmer Dumont, Cyrus Baldwin, Enos Chadman, and Wallace Flagg,” said Tuck. “It’ll take all of us, I think, and since Daniel has offered to stake us with the necessary grub, the first hundred head of cattle we gather should be his.”

“No,” Danielle said. “You’ll need your money. Besides, your herd will be bait enough to attract that bunch of outlaws I’m trailing.”

“No matter,” said Mrs. Carlyle. “You’ve brought us hope, and there will be five of us small ranchers. Any one of us can spare you twenty head. Tuck, when you talk to the others, be sure you tell them Daniel has a stake in this drive.”

“But I feel guilty, taking some of your stock,” Danielle protested.

“Without your help, we couldn’t raise enough money for the drive, and neither could the others,” said Tuck. “I’ll want you to go with me and talk to the others. This sounds like the makings of a miracle, and I’m not sure they’ll take me serious.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Danielle said. “We must have a couple of pack mules, and each rider will need spare horses. We must see how many can be had.”

“Damn the luck,” said Carrie, “we won’t have enough horses, and I don’t know of anybody with mules.”

“We’ll find them,” Danielle replied. “First, let’s see if we can line up those other ranchers for the drive.”

“I’d like to go,” said Carrie, “but there won’t be enough horses.”

“Somebody must have a wagon,” Danielle said. “We could fix it up with seats for some of you, and still have room for our grub.”

“That’s a better idea than pack mules,” said Tuck. “I doubt the others will be willing to leave their families behind.”

“Besides the three of you,” Danielle said, “how many other people will be involved?”

“Elmer Dumont has a wife and a son about my age,” said Tuck. “Cyrus Baldwin has a wife and two sons old enough to work cattle. Enos Chadman has a wife, a daughter, and a son. Wallace Flagg has a wife and two sons.”

“Including me, there’ll be nineteen of us,” Danielle said. “For those who don’t have a horse, the wagon will have to do.”

“Every girl my age can tend cattle,” said Carrie. “The wives can go in the wagon.”

“We’ll suggest that,” Tuck added. “With us so close to Indian Territory, a man would object to leaving his wife and daughters behind. We’ll need plenty of ammunition, too.”

“I thought Texans weren’t allowed to have guns during Reconstruction,” said Danielle.

“Only those who served in the war against the Union,” Tuck said. “I have a Colt and a Henry rifle. I’m sure the others will be armed, but they may lack ammunition.”

“I have three hundred dollars to buy what we’ll need,” said Danielle.

“That should be more than enough,” Tuck said, “but we may have to go to Dallas for the ammunition.”

“Then take a wagon and go to Dallas after everything,” said Mrs. Carlyle. “None of us are that well known in Dallas, while going to a smaller town would be like telling everybody what we intend to do.”

“Everybody will know anyway, Ma,” Tuck explained. “You can’t keep a roundup secret, but we can try. We’ll buy supplies in Dallas, and the way I see it, we have four weeks to get the herd together. It’s already the first week in August. If we can’t get away from here by September first, there’ll be snow before we can reach Abilene.”

“Then let’s pay a visit to those other four ranchers today,” Danielle said. “If each of the five of you can get cattle to market this fall, you’ll have the money for a much bigger drive next spring.”

“Bless you, son,” Mrs. Carlyle beamed. “It will be our salvation.”

“There’s a rider coming,” Carrie announced. “Oh, God, it’s Upton Wilks. Please, Tuck, don’t you or Daniel leave while he’s here.”

“We’ll wait awhile then,” said Tuck. “He would show up now.”

From his very attitude, Danielle decided she didn’t like Upton Wilks. He wore a fancy silk shirt and new boots. As though he owned all of Texas, he reined up, dismounted, and pounded on the door. He had the ruddy face of a drinking man, and most of his hair was gone. Tuck opened the door.

“What do you want, Wilks?” Tuck demanded. “You know you’re not welcome here.”

“Maybe I’ll wait for Miss Carrie to tell me that,” retorted Wilks. “I’m here to call on her.”

Carrie rose to the occasion, responding in a manner that shocked them all, especially Danielle.

“I choose not to see you, Mr. Wilks. This young man, Daniel Strange, is now working for us, and I prefer his company to yours. Now please go.”

Wilks’s eyes narrowed and fixed on Danielle. “What Upton Wilks wants, Upton Wilks gets,” he said.

“Not necessarily,” said Danielle, her cold green eyes boring into his. “Carrie’s told you to leave. Now go, while you still can.”

“I don’t take orders from no snot-nosed kid,” Wilks said. “You want me to go, why don’t you make me?”

With blinding speed, Danielle drew her right-hand Colt. Wilks’s left earlobe vanished with a spurt of blood.

“Damn you,” Wilks bawled. “You shot me!”

He clawed for his Colt and Danielle held her fire until he cleared leather. Then she shot the gun from his hand. Ruined, it clattered to the floor. Wilks’s ear had bled heavily down his face, so that it looked as though his throat had been cut. With a deathly white face, he backed toward the door, his voice shaking with anger. “You’d better go back to where you come from, you young fool. I’ll have you hunted down like a yellow coyote.”

“Mr. Wilks pays others to do what he’s not man enough to do himself,” Carrie said. “Just be sure you watch your back, Daniel.”

Speech failed Wilks. He mounted his horse and, spurring the animal cruelly, galloped away.

“Carrie,” scolded Mrs. Carlyle, “you shouldn’t have antagonized him. Having him think Daniel’s here to see you wasn’t the truth. You might have gotten him killed.”

Tuck laughed. “I don’t think so, Ma. I saw John Wesley Hardin draw once, and he was slow as molasses compared to Daniel.”

“I’m sorry, Daniel,” said Carrie, “but what I said was the truth. Everybody that’s ever been on the outs with Upton Wilks has ended up dead. He hires a lot of men, some of them no better than outlaws.”