Gun for Revenge (11 page)

Stadtlander’s study took up a whole corner of the mansion. The huge oak-paneled room had windows on two sides, one facing the scrubland on which his vast herd grazed and the other with a panoramic view of the distant Rio Grande. Western paintings and deer and elk trophy heads adorned the walls, and grizzly pelts covered the stained-wood floor.

The massive furniture was covered in brown-and-white cowhide and there was enough room in the stone
fireplace
to spit-roast a whole steer. Above it hung an
imposing
painting of Stadtlander astride the Morgan in an ’empire builder’ pose, while facing him across the room hung an equally impressive painting of his deceased wife, Agatha. A pale, delicate, sweet-faced Easterner of obvious fine breeding, she seemed out of place in this
testosterone
-filled atmosphere.

Hanging beside her, one on either side, were smaller portraits of Slade and his deceased sister, Elizabeth, both in their early teens.

Stadtlander limped behind the bar that stretched along one wall and poured them both tumblers of J.H. Cutler.

‘To better times,’ he said.

Gabriel ignored the toast, drank and looked around at all the familiar memorabilia. Much as he hated to admit it, he loved this room and had always hoped that one day he would build one of his own just like it.

Stadtlander pushed a humidor of expensive Cuban cigars in front of Gabriel, who shook his head. Ignoring the rebuff, Stadtlander took one himself, snipped off the end with a fancy clipper, wetted it between his lips and took his time lighting it.

‘I’ve missed you, Gabe. I won’t deny that.’

He waited for Gabriel to respond in kind. When he didn’t, Stadtlander spat out a thin stream of smoke and contemplated the ash forming on his cigar.

‘That boy I raised – he’s a daisy, ain’t he?’

Gabriel sipped his whiskey in silence.

‘Big, good-lookin’ kid … can get any woman he wants just like that.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Hell, any stranger lookin’ at him would think he had the world in his fist….’

Gabriel still said nothing.

‘Thing that riles me most is, he’ll take over this spread one day an’ then what? Instead of buildin’ it up, makin’ it grow like I did, he’ll run it into the ground in two, maybe three years. Maybe less.’

He again waited for Gabriel to respond and again Gabriel sipped his whiskey in cold silence.

Stadtlander looked deflated. Using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe a wet spot from the polished bar, he gulped his drink and poured himself another.

‘I’ve tried to raise him right,’ he said, as if trying to convince himself. ‘Taught him to know the difference ’tween right and wrong, but so help me Jonah, he’s no closer to bein’ a man now than he was when you took off
five years ago.’

‘Won’t matter where he’s goin’,’ Gabriel said grimly.

Stadtlander started to erupt, but thought better of it and said: ‘Got a question for you. An’ I want a straight answer.’

Gabriel sipped his whiskey and waited.

‘What went wrong between us, Gabe? I’ve asked myself a thousand times but I never could figure it out.’

‘I got tired of doin’ your dirty work.’

‘After almost ten years? Moses on the mountain! By then you’d run everybody off. What was left was more maintenance than work.’

‘There were other things.’

‘Name one.’

‘You demanded too much.’

‘No more than I demanded of myself.’

‘Yeah, but it was your spread.’

‘Could’ve been yours, too. Mine, yours and Slade’s. There was more than enough land to go around. Cattle, too. I told you that many times.’

Gabriel couldn’t deny that and kept silent.

‘Hell, I thought we were a matched pair. I even groomed you so you could take over when I got too old to run the place. Figured my boy could watch how you did things, see the way you treated people, earned their respect and got the most out of a crew – hopin’ that way he’d learn from you before finally takin’ over himself.’

Gabriel swirled his whiskey around in the tumbler, held the glass up in front of the window and watched the amber-colored liquid change colors in the sunlight.

‘God
dammit
,’ Stadtlander said angrily, ‘we ain’t gonna get anywhere, Gabe, unless you speak your mind; tell me what you think.’

‘I think,’ Gabriel said evenly, ‘you’re doin’ exactly what you accused Slade of doin’: whistling ’round gravestones.’

‘How so?’

Gabriel studied Stadtlander, remembering as he did how once he would have jumped into the fires of hell to please him.

‘ ’Cause all this talk about yesteryear is just another way of stalling, of duckin’ the truth.’

‘That’s a damn’ lie an’ you know it! I never ducked the truth or told a lie in my whole life.’

‘That include callin’ me a horse thief?’

‘OK, once. An’ I was wrong to do that. I admit it now. You won Brandy fair’n square. But goddammit, Gabe, you gotta take some responsibility for this split. You shouldn’t have come at me like that. You know my temper. How’d you expect me to react when the man I’ve treated better’n my own son threatens to walk out on me – is willin’ to throw away everything I’ve given him on account of some doe-eyed widow in a cantina—’

‘Keep Cally out of this,’ Gabriel warned, his hand drifting to his gun.

Stadtlander bristled for a moment. Then he saw the deadly, unwavering look in Gabriel’s ice blue eyes and subsided.

‘As for all the things you say you gave me,’ Gabriel continued, ‘that’s another lie. You gave me nothin’. I earned everythin’ I got around here.’

‘I ain’t denyin’ that. That’s why I made you top hand.’

‘You made me top hand, Mr Stadtlander, ’cause I could handle a gun. If I hadn’t been fast, I’d still be mendin’ fences an’ you know it.’

‘Damn you! Why do you always have to spit in my face?’

‘You said you wanted the truth. I’m givin’ it to you.’

‘The truth,’ Stadtlander said, ‘is you were the son I always wanted an’ I was willin’ to spurn my own boy, my own flesh and blood to show you how I felt.’

‘Sendin’ a necktie party after me is a funny way of sayin’ you loved me.’

Stadtlander flushed and his temple veins bulged.

‘Anger made me do that. Anger an’ hurt. When I
couldn’t
change your mind I wanted to destroy you.’

‘An’ you damn’ near succeeded.’

Stadtlander continued as if Gabriel hadn’t spoken.

‘But all that’s over an’ done with now. Buried in the past. We’re both still alive an’ I’m willin’ to forget the ill between us if you are. How ’bout it, Gabe?’ he said,
sticking
out his hand. ‘You willin’ to turn the page? Let bygones be bygones an’ start afresh? The Double SS is even bigger now than when you left. One third of it would make you a rich an’ powerful man.’

Gabriel ignored the outstretched hand.

‘I don’t want to be rich an’ powerful, Mr Stadtlander.’

‘Then what
do
you want?’

‘From you – personally – nothin’.’

Rage darkened the old rancher’s weathered face.

‘Then get the hell off my property. Fast. ’Fore I do like Slade wants and feed you to a rope.’

Gabriel slowly ground out his cigar on the polished bar.

‘Only rope you should be worryin’ about, Mr Stadtlander, is the one I’m gonna use to hang your son.’

Stadtlander looked at Gabriel in utter disbelief. Then he laughed contemptuously.

‘Now that’s a hot one,’ he said. Leaning over the bar he thrust his face close to Gabriel’s. ‘Do you really think you can ride out of here with my boy? Why, you arrogant, ungrateful pup, there’s more than twenty guns out there
all primed to cut you down on my say-so.’

‘Then you’d better say-so,’ Gabriel said, ‘’cause I’m leaving now an’ I’m takin’ Slade with me.’

‘Not so long as I’m alive!’

Gabriel walked to the door, turned and looked back at Stadtlander who hadn’t moved.

‘You once told me that the next time I pointed a gun at you I should be ready to use it. I’m ready.’

Stadtlander started to reply then stopped as he saw Gabriel’s Peacemaker – holstered an instant ago – was now aimed at his belly.

He swallowed, hard. ‘Go ahead, shoot. You’ll be dead ’fore the echo leaves this room.’

‘I won’t die alone,’ was all Gabriel said. Holstering his Colt almost as fast as he’d drawn it, he opened the door and stepped outside. 

Slade and the cowhands stopped talking and ground out their smokes as Gabriel appeared, followed by Stadtlander.

‘Do I get a rope, Pa?’ Slade asked him.

‘No time for that, son.’ Stadtlander raised his voice so his men could hear. ‘Mr Moonlight’s just been kind enough to tell me why he’s here. He’s come for you, Slade. Plans on takin’ you somewhere nice’n quiet where he can introduce you to a rope.’

Slade licked his lips uneasily and forced himself to laugh.

‘’Be a sonofabitch,’ he said. He winked at the men. ‘Hear that, boys? I’m about to dance my last fandango.’

The men laughed.

‘Oh, save me, boss, please.’ A cowhand grabbed his own bandanna and pulled it above his head, gurgling as he pretended to hang himself.

The other men roared.

Bolstered by their merriment, Slade said: ‘We’ll see who’s gonna do the introducin’.’

He grabbed a rope from a corral fence, uncoiled it, shook out a loop and twirled it deftly. ‘Bring him to the
barn, boys. Time someone learned him some manners—’

Gabriel drew and fired, so quickly no one realized what had happened until the bullet cut the rope just above the noose.

Everyone froze.

‘Tell your men to throw down their guns,’ Gabriel said to Stadtlander.

‘Go to hell.’

Then as Gabriel cocked the hammer:

‘Like I told you inside: go ahead an’ shoot. I’m willin’ to die to make sure my name’s carried on.’ He turned to the men. ‘Soon as he shoots me, shoot him. Then the horse.’

The cowhands nodded and aimed their guns at Gabriel.

For one infinitesimal moment time stood still.

Then the Morgan, motionless until now, suddenly reared up and attacked Stadtlander.

One of its flailing hoofs struck the old rancher in the chest, sending him sprawling. He slammed against the veranda railing, then rolled down the steps onto the ground.

Squealing with rage, the stallion reared again intending to trample him.

Without thinking Gabriel quickly grabbed Stadtlander by the boots and dragged him from under the Morgan’s descending hoofs.

Brandy turned on him, eyes aflame, teeth bared.

Standing his ground, Gabriel fired twice above the horse’s head and yelled at it to get back!

The stallion charged him, ready to bite, but pulled up short before actually making contact with Gabriel. It then stood there in front of him, tossing its head, snorting and
pawing angrily at the dirt.

Gabriel, surprised that the Morgan hadn’t attacked him, spoke soothingly to it.

It took several seconds, but then the stallion calmed down.

Gabriel helped Stadtlander to his feet.

‘Anythin’ broke?’

Stadlander winced. ‘Rib or two, feels like.’

‘Better send someone for the doc.’

‘Not before I shoot that ornery bastard!’ He turned to the men, adding: ‘One of you, toss me your rifle.’

Gabriel thumbed back the hammer on his Colt.

‘Anybody harms that horse, deals with me. That includes you,’ he said to Stadtlander.

The old rancher saw he meant it.

‘It can wait,’ he told his men. Wincing at every breath, he started up the steps to the veranda.

Holstering his Colt, Gabriel went to help him.

As he did, Slade shot him in the back.

The bullet glanced off a rib and lodged near Gabriel’s spine. He stumbled forward and went to his knees. As he did he pulled his gun and, half-twisting, fired at Slade.

Slade stood there, wide-eyed, as if nothing had happened. Then he pitched forward onto his face, dead before he hit the ground.

Stadtlander looked at his dead son in disbelief; then uttering a low cry, he limped to Slade and cradled him in his arms.

The cowhands angrily surrounded Gabriel, ready to shoot him.

‘Say the word, boss,’ the foreman said grimly.

Before Stadtlander could answer, there was the sound of a horse approaching.

‘Rider comin’,’ one of the cowhands yelled.

Everyone, including Gabriel, turned and looked.

At first Gabriel thought he was imagining things. But the rider kept on coming, getting closer and closer,
passing
first between the two outer corrals and then the barn and the bunkhouse, until at last he had to admit to himself the image was real.

It was Ellen.

Astride the blue roan.

She was wearing a black nun’s habit, her white hat
flopping
in the wind.

As she rode up to the astonished cowhands, they
grudgingly
moved aside to let her pass through.

Ellen rode by without looking at them and reined up beside Gabriel. She dismounted, then saw the blood
seeping
through the back of his shirt. She moved quickly moved to support him.

‘Is it bad?’ she asked, worried.

He shook his head and managed to grin.

‘Just another scar to lie about.’

‘D-Do you think you can you ride?’

‘Sure.’

‘Then hurry. We must get you to a doctor.’

‘He ain’t goin’ anywhere,’ Stadtlander said, still cradling his dead son.

Ellen faced him defiantly.

‘What’re you talking about? Can’t you see he’s hurt?’

‘I also see my boy’s dead. Gabe’s gotta pay for that.’

Ellen looked long and hard at him.

‘Ever read the Bible, Mr Stadtlander?’

‘Live by it.’

‘Then I shouldn’t have to explain “an eye for an eye”.’

‘Your sister for my son? That’s no fair trade.’

‘No,’ Ellen said, ‘it isn’t. But it’s better than nothing and I’ll just have to live with it.’ She went to help Gabriel mount up.

The cowhands cocked their weapons, ready to obey Stadtlander’s next order.

Gabriel knew his time had run out.

‘Step back, Ellie,’ he told her. ‘Get on your horse and ride out of here.’

Ignoring him, she said to Stadtlander: ‘Hasn’t there been enough killing – even for you?’

He glared at her in gritted silence.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘If you have to spill more blood, tell your men to shoot me, too. Because like it or not, I’m taking Gabe to the doctor.’ Turning her back to him, she gently draped Gabriel’s arm over her shoulder and helped him limp to the Morgan.

Hesitant to shoot a nun, the men turned to Stadtlander.

‘Boss?’

Stadtlander struggled with his conscience. He looked at Gabriel standing bleeding before him, then at Ellen, determined to defy him, and last of all at Slade, dead in his arms.

Suddenly, all the fight went out of him. He seemed to grow smaller. And with a deep sigh, he waved his men back.

‘Let him go.’

‘But, boss, he killed Slade.’

‘And Mace an’ Cody, too.’

Stadtlander gently brushed a fly from his dead son’s face before answering.

‘Can any one of you tell me they didn’t deserve it?’

The cowhands looked at one another, stumped.

Stadtlander kept his arms clasped about Slade’s corpse
and slowly rocked in grief.

‘You ever set foot in New Mexico again,’ he told Gabriel, now astride the Morgan, ‘I swear I’ll find a way to kill you.’

‘Fair enough.’ Gabriel gave a last look at the familiar buildings he’d once called home, and then nudged the Morgan forward.

Ellen did the same to the blue roan.

Stadtlander watched them ride off. Then oblivious of his broken ribs, he got to his knees and tucked one arm under Slade’s body.

‘Hank … Jonas … Tom … help me carry my boy inside.’