Moon Racer (16 page)

"Abby!"

She grinned at him. "What will you name him,
Papa?"

Jack was at a loss for words to describe the dog.
"With his scraggly whiskers he looks something
like a catfish with fur."

The dog chose that moment to lick Jack's face,
and Jack pulled away in disgust.

"I think you just named him, Papa. He seems to
like to be called Catfish."

"Charming." He placed the dog on the floor, but
it stayed right at his feet, bouncing and wagging its
tail.

"I think he likes you, Jack," Glory said, catching
Abby's eye, and they both laughed.

"Frances will never allow him in the house," Jack
warned, bending down and reluctantly patting the
dog on the head.

"Oh, he's housebroken, Papa. But he is a bit
clumsy. When he wags his tail he knocks things off
tables. He would benefit from training."

Jack grumbled as he walked out of the room with
Catfish sliding and scrambling after him.

Jonah sat in the straight-backed chair in Sheriff
Dawson's office, posing questions to the middleaged man with graying hair.

"Have you happened upon a man here in Diablo
by the name of Norman Williamson?"

The sheriff shifted in his chair and nodded.
"Yeah, I have. I believe he's friends with Edmund
Montgomery. At least, I saw them together a few
times here in town."

"Did you notice anything suspicious about
Williamson-has anyone commented on any
unusual actions?"

The sheriff was thoughtful. "Not suspicious
exactly-more like unusual. From what I've heard,
him and Edmund have a joint venture of buying up
land. I thought it was kinda odd that an Indian agent would have that kind of money. I overheard them
talking about the Taylor ranch, which is the biggest
cattle spread hereabouts. I didn't even know Lester
Taylor had his place up for sale."

"Could you- give me directions to the Taylor
ranch?"

"I'll do better than that, Major." Dawson stood
up, hung the jail keys on a peg, and then
straightened his gun belt to a more comfortable
position. "It's a slow day, and my deputy can watch
things here in town for a few hours. I'll ride out
with you."

It had rained on the ride to the Taylor ranch, but the
sun had burst through the clouds before they
arrived, and the rain had soaked into the thirsty
ground without leaving a trace.

Jonah, Sheriff Dawson, and Lester Taylor were
seated in rustic chairs on the front porch of the
sprawling brick ranch house. Lester was a tall, thin
man of advanced age, and he had the haunted look
of someone carrying a heavy load on his shoulders.
Jonah recognized the unmistakable signs of a
beaten man.

"In three weeks I'm going to lose everything I've
worked all my life for, Sheriff." He lowered his
head to his hands and shook it. "Since my wife's
dead, and we had no kids, I have nowhere to go
when I leave here."

"You don't know me, Mr. Taylor," Jonah said,
"but would you mind answering a few questions for
me?"

The old man raised dark eyes that held a defeated
look. "I don't mind if I do."

"I don't know much about ranching, but I saw a
large herd of cattle grazing when we rode up. I can
see that the house is a fine one, and the bunkhouse
and barns seem in good repair. I guess what I'm
asking is, how did you come to this pass?"

"You mean the foreclosure?"

"That's right."

"I trusted Edmund Montgomery, that's how." For
a moment his eyes flamed with indignation, and
then he shook his head. "He was always acting like
my friend and getting me to buy more cattle and
more land. I always prided myself on having a good
business head, but Edmund came in through the
front door like a friend and went sneaking out the
back door taking everything I own with him. You
can call me a fool if you want to, but I never saw
what he was doing until it was too late."

"Have you heard of, or had any dealings with, a
man by the name of Norman Williamson?"

The old man nodded. "He came here with
Edmund once. Said he wanted to buy the place.
That was before the trouble, and I told him I
wouldn't sell." He lowered his head again, his
shoulders slumping. "Now I wish I had taken his
puny offer. At least I'd have had something to show
for my years of sweat."

Jonah absorbed all he was being told. He stood up
and walked to the edge of the porch that wrapped
around the house, and gazed out over the land. It was
beautiful, with a lot of tall oaks and meadows. He could imagine children, his children, running
across the grassy lawn-a strong son and a greeneyed daughter. His breath shuddered. No, his
daughter would not have green eyes. Patricia's eyes
were blue.

He swiveled around and faced the older man.
"Mr. Taylor, if you were to sell your ranch today,
what would be a fair price?"

"No one 'round here has that kind of money."

Jonah gave him a shrewd glance, thinking about
the large inheritance that had come to him through
his mother's estate. "I have."

Sheriff Dawson stared at Jonah. "Are you
making a bona fide offer, Major Tremain?"

Jonah had known almost from his first glimpse of
the ranch that he wanted to own it. He wasn't
usually one to make a quick judgment, but this
situation called for haste. "Name a price, Mr.
Taylor, and I will expect it to be fair for both of us."

"You aren't funning me, are you?"

"I have too much respect for you to be anything
but honest with you. I want to buy your ranch."

The old man's eyes filled with hope. "There is
that large lien on it from the bank."

"Sheriff Dawson tells me you are an honest man,
so take that into consideration when you set your
price. But before you agree to anything, I will need
you to stay on here and run the place and teach me
all you can. I know very little about ranching."

There was cautious expectation in the old man's
dark eyes. "You mean if you bought the place,
you'd let me stay on here?"

"It would be part of the transaction. I would give
you the control to buy cattle and hire what men you
need to work the place."

Taylor sat forward and grinned. "Major Tremain,
I could move into the foreman's house, and he
could bunk in with the hands, since his wife left him
for some northerner."

"I have more considerations before you decide."
Jonah leaned against the porch railing and watched
the old rancher's face. "Two more, actually; I will
want all transactions to go through a bank in Fort
Worth, because I don't want any dealings with
Edmund Montgomery's bank. And I don't want
anyone to hear that I bought the ranch until I have
decided to let it be known."

"No one will hear a word from me, and I know
the sheriff here won't say anything either."

Dawson nodded in agreement. He'd never liked
Montgomery, and it did him good to see someone
get the better of the banker.

Lester suddenly shot out of his chair and laughed
with pure joy. "Damn if I ain't gonna get back at
Edmund, and there's nothing he can do to stop me."
He stuck out his hand to Jonah. "Son, you just
bought yourself a ranch!"

"Call me Jonah."

"I'll call you Jonah, boss, king of the hill,
anything you want me to call you. When I woke up
this morning I didn't have a hope in the worldwhen I go to sleep tonight, I'll put my worries
behind me."

Jonah stepped out of the telegraph office and
right into the path of Edmund Montgomery.

"Major, what a coincidence, running into you. I
have been wanting to speak to you about
something."

"Mr. Montgomery."

Edmund heard the coldness in Jonah's voice, but
he couldn't retaliate as he would have liked. He
needed information that only the arrogant bastard
could furnish. "I see you got a telegram."

"That's right."

Edmund watched him fold it and place it in his
breast pocket. "I guess you won't be staying here
much longer. I'd wager they'll be needing you at
Fort Fannin, with the Indian trouble and all."

"We in the cavalry are practically vagabonds, Mr.
Montgomery-we never know where we are going
to be from one day to the next."

Edmund bit back the angry words that came to
mind. He wasn't getting anywhere with this Major
Tremain. He wanted to ask the major if he had
touched Abby. He wanted to shove a gun in the
man's face and pull the trigger. "I know you're
looking for the men who robbed the army payrollthat's right, isn't it?"

Jonah detested the banker even more now that he
had learned about his crooked dealings with Lester
Taylor. And he was offended by the way the man
was always prying into his affairs. "Mr.
Montgomery, the government pays me to do my
duty and to keep my mouth shut while I'm about it.
I'm sure you can understand that."

It was becoming a real struggle for Edmund to
hold on to his composure. "Will you be staying
much longer at the Half-Moon Ranch?"

Jonah stared coldly into the man's eyes. "If you
will excuse me, I have matters that need my
attention." He stepped around Edmund and walked
in the direction of the livery stable to get his horse.

The banker's fists were balled at his sides. That
bastard was after Abby-he knew it.

Something had to be done about him.

He ground his teeth and entered the telegraph
office. His smile was in place when he faced the
young operator, Ira Billings. "How's everything
going today, Ira?"

The young man was tapping out a message on
the keys, so he held up his hand to silence the
banker. When he was finished, he turned his
attention to Edmund.

"I'm just fine, Mr. Montgomery."

"I noticed Major Tremain was just in here."

"Yes, he was."

"I know the major is in town on a mission, and I
think I can help him, if you'll help me. But to do that,
you'll need to tell me what was in his telegram."

"No, I can't do that. All messages that come
through this office are confidential."

Edmund was growing more frustrated by the
moment. "You can tell me if he sent a wire to
anyone, can't you?"

"Yes, he did."

"But you can't tell me what was in it, or whom
he sent it to?"

"No, I can't."

Edmund leaned even closer. "How would you
like to come and work for me at the bank, boy?"

"I wouldn't like that at all, Mr. Montgomery."
There was indignation in the young man's tone. "It
was you and your bank that took my folks' farm. I
wouldn't want to work for such a place."

Edmund whirled around and stomped out the
door just in time to see Major Tremain riding in the
direction of the Half-Moon.

That imperious officer would one day feel the
heel of his boot on his neck-that or a bullet in the
back; it didn't much matter which to Edmund. For
the right price, Kane would be happy to
accommodate him.

And as for young Ira, he'd put pressure on his
boss to fire him.

Frances heard Jonah ride up, and stepped out onto
the porch to greet him as he dismounted.

"I'm the only one home, Major. The men are all
out helping Quince look for the mustangs."

"And Abby?"

Frances eyed him craftily. There was a situation
developing here, but it might not bode well for any
of those concerned. The major was developing an
attachment for Abby, and Abby was already moping
about because of him. "You can't never tell with her.
The last time I saw her she was riding past the barn."

Abby braced her back against a wide tree stump and
held her sketch pad on one drawn-up knee. Moon
Racer was wandering about, grazing on sweet clover,
so she was able to sketch him from every angle.

She always found solace in drawing because she
had to concentrate on what she was doing and
couldn't think of anything else-like worrying
whether Jonah were going to come back, and
wondering why she should care.

Abby heard a rider approach, and her heart
contracted when she watched Jonah dismount and
walk toward her with long strides. She noticed that
his limp was barely visible.