Ralph Compton - Bullet for a Bad Man

‘‘Is your brother,’’ Sassy finished for him.

Boone nodded. ‘‘It proves Epp did try to have me shot in Ranson. And then he sent those two to finish what Jarrott couldn’t do.’’

‘‘Why are you so pale all of a sudden? Are you afraid he will try again?’’

‘‘I know he will. But it is not that.’’ Boone swallowed and dug his fingers into the dirt. ‘‘It just hit me. I’m worried about my folks. If Epp has done this to me, what will he do to them?’’

‘‘Maybe nothing. Maybe it is just you he hates.’’

‘‘But why? What have I ever done that he would want me dead? I have racked my brain and I can’t for the life of me come up with anything.’’

‘‘Like you said, you can ask him when you see him.’’

‘‘I will do a hell of a lot more than that.’’

Sassy smiled sweetly. ‘‘Don’t cuss.’’

‘‘You are not going to try and talk me out of it?’’

‘‘After what that son of a bitch has done to you? I say kill him, and good riddance.’’

Boone leaned toward her. ‘‘Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?’’

A half-full whiskey bottle was on the kitchen table. An empty bottle was on the floor. Of the three people drinking only the woman in the too-tight dress was tippled.

Epp Scott refilled his glass, raised it and swirled the whiskey. ‘‘I hate ranch life. I hate cows and I hate branding and I hate the god-awful long hours.’’

About to reach for the bottle, Blin Hanks opened his mouth but closed it again.

‘‘What?’’

‘‘I have known you a good long while. Ever since that first night you showed up in Ranson. And since that night I have wanted to ask you something. But I know how mad you get when someone pries, so I am asking if it is all right to ask you now.’’

Alice Thorpe giggled. ‘‘He slapped me once for asking the reason he hired Jarrott to kill his brother.’’

‘‘Is that what you want to ask?’’ Epp said to Hanks.

‘‘My question is bigger than that.’’ Blin Hanks poured and took a gulp. ‘‘I want to know why, Epp.’’

‘‘Why what?’’

‘‘The why to all of it. Why do you rustle? Why do you kill? Why do you gamble and run girls in Ranson?’’ Hanks motioned at the walls. ‘‘This is a fine ranch. Your pa and ma were well-to-do. You never wanted for money your whole life, never wanted for clothes, never had to worry about where your next meal was coming from.’’

‘‘So?’’

‘‘So you had everything. Or at least more than most. Yet it wasn’t enough. You had to have more.’’

‘‘There is your answer.’’ Epp slowly sat up. ‘‘I have never been happy with what I had. I have never been content. When I was little I always wanted the things my ma and pa would not let me have.’’

Hanks went to say something, but Epp held up his hand.

‘‘You got me started, so hear me out. As I recollect, I was seven when I killed our cat. The damn thing scratched my hand. It hurt so much I damn near cried. So when Ma and Pa went to the stable, I got the broom out of the closet and snuck up on the cat while it was sleeping and beat it to death.’’

‘‘You killed a kitty?’’ Alice giggled some more.

‘‘I took the body out the back and stuck it in the wood shed under a pile of logs. Since it was summer no one went into the shed until months later when the weather turned cold and by then most of the stink was gone.’’

Alice giggled.

‘‘I was ten when I killed our dog. It was old and could barely walk, but my ma made me take it out every day so it could go. One day I had enough. I walked it to the stable. None of the punchers were around, so I got hold of the pitchfork. The dog barely let out a whimper. I dragged the body out to the corn patch. When my pa finally found it, he blamed coyotes.’’

Alice threw back her head and yipped like one.

‘‘When I was fourteen we had a maid named Sally. She was seventeen. She came from a poor family over to Tucson. She was heavy and had lips as thick as sausages, but I got it into my head that I wanted her. So one day when my folks were gone I cornered Sally upstairs and had my way with her.’’

‘‘You raped your maid?’’ Alice smacked the table in glee.

‘‘She was my first. She tried to fight, but I was big for my age and I pinned her arms and there was not much she could do. After I was done she lay there and cried and cried until I was fit to take an ax to her head.’’

‘‘Did you?’’

‘‘No, you damned painted cat. I was smart. I offered her a hundred dollars to keep quiet and she took it.’’ Epp held his glass toward the lamp and swirled the whiskey again. ‘‘I learned the most important lesson of my life that day.’’

Alice let out a loud snort. ‘‘That a man has to pay for it one way or another?’’

Ignoring her, Epp went on. ‘‘The next time I had to buy my way out of trouble was when I was sixteen. I went with my pa to Tucson. While he was meeting with a cattle buyer, I went to a bawdy house a friend had told me about. I was having a grand time, but I drank too much and I got into an argument with the girl I had picked. I don’t remember what it was about. But she made me so mad, I broke the whiskey bottle and cut her.’’

‘‘That was you?’’ Alice said. ‘‘I knew her. Caroline was her name, and I saw her after you got done with her.’’ Alice shuddered. ‘‘You nearly took her nose off. The doctor did the best he could stitching her up, but she had a hard time finding work after that.’’

‘‘Where do you think she got the money for the doc? I paid for him to work on her and I gave her a thousand dollars besides to keep quiet.’’

‘‘That was generous of you seeing as how you ruined her for life.’’ Alice wagged a finger at him. ‘‘You really are a miserable bastard, do you know that?’’

Epp drained his glass and set it down. ‘‘To raise the thousand dollars I had to sell some of my pa’s cows without him knowing.’’

Blin Hanks stirred. ‘‘Was that how you got your start rustling?’’

‘‘That was the first time, yes. I went on living high on the hog, but I had to be careful my parents didn’t catch on or they were likely to throw me out.’’ Epp stood and stretched.

Alice tittered. ‘‘Too bad for them they didn’t toss you out on your ear. They still might be alive.’’

‘‘No. They wouldn’t. Because it came to me that I was going to all that trouble to keep what I was doing secret when I didn’t have to. Not if the Circle V was mine.’’ Epp moved to the stove and picked up the coffeepot and shook it. ‘‘We need a new batch.’’

‘‘Don’t look at me,’’ Alice said. ‘‘I am not your servant. I only came because you promised me that we would have more fun here than in Ranson. But you lied. I am bored to death.’’

Epp set the coffeepot down, stepped to a shelf near the stove and selected a cast-iron frying pan. Hefting it, he came back to the table.

‘‘What are you going to cook with that?’’ Alice asked.

‘‘Brains,’’ Epp said, and smashed the frying pan over the top of her head. The crunch of bone was louder than her bleat of surprise, and then she was sliding from her chair to the floor with her dull eyes fixed on the frying pan that had crushed her skull. Epp placed the pan on the table. ‘‘Did I answer your question?’’ he asked Blin Hanks.

‘‘You answered it just fine.’’

Nest of Vipers

More riding. More dust to eat. More days of the relentless Arizona sun baking the rustlers and the horses into exhaustion.

Boone Scott and Sassy Drecker were together every minute they could be. When he rode drag, she rode with him. At night they sat apart from the others but so close to each other that in the dark they seemed to be one person and not two.