Patricia Potter (41 page)

H
ERB
E
DWARDS, FOREMAN
of the Newton spread, was informing his boss about the low level of the river when Keller knocked on the study door and was called inside.

Herb didn’t like Keller. In fact, he didn’t like anything about what was going on these days. Herb Edwards was a good cowman. He wasn’t a gun hand, and he didn’t like killing. Most of all, he didn’t like the men his boss was hiring. They did what they wanted, and disappeared when they should have been riding the range, bringing in the weaker animals for water.

The newcomers were dangerous and arrogant. He’d been relieved when the man named Lobo disappeared from Newton’s ranch, but his place had been quickly taken by five more, five he wouldn’t have spit on.

Keller was the worst of the lot, and apparently the leader, even after he’d lost face at Willow Taylor’s place. Herb hadn’t been there, but he’d heard from some of his men who’d gone along to curry favor with the boss. Herb sensed Keller was not going to let matters rest, that he felt his honor was at stake, even if he wasn’t quite brave enough yet to take on Lobo man to man. But it was obvious he was building up to it.

Alex looked at Keller impatiently. “What is it?”

“One of my men heard an explosion over toward the Taylor land,” Keller said. “I was just wonderin’ if it didn’t have something to do with the way the river’s going dry.”

“Go find out,” Alex said.

Keller touched the brim of his hat. “You said not to go on the woman’s land without your permission.”

Alex half lifted himself from his chair, the muscles on his arms straining. “You have it.”

“Mr. Newton…” Herb started.

“Don’t tell me to wait, Herb. That damn river’s never gone dry before.” Newton turned to Keller. “No violence. Not until I say so.”

“What if we’re shot at?”

“In that case, in
only
that case, shoot back.” Herb’s fist clenched into a tight ball. He realized those words gave Keller all the permission he needed. “Mr. Newton, I’ll go too.”

“I didn’t think you wanted any part of this business.” He didn’t, but he was afraid of what would happen. Alex searched the faces of both men. Keller was standing arrogantly, his hand on his gun. Herb was tense, looking stubborn. Herb had been with him more than ten years. He trusted him, and he knew how bitterly Herb resented Keller and Lobo. He finally nodded, giving his approval to Herb.

The two men walked out. Alex clutched the sides of his wheelchair, hating his helplessness, feeling impotent just as he had every day since his wife had died, since he’d come home unexpectedly one brilliant fall afternoon to find his Mary missing, since the housekeeper had told him where she was.

A
LEX HAD BEEN
exuberant that day. He, Jake, and Gar had combined their herds; and he and Jake, along with hands from all three ranches, had just completed delivering a joint herd of cattle up near Denver to the gold and silver mines. They were about thirty miles from Newton on the return trip when he’d decided to ride on ahead. He was lonely for Mary and their three-year-old daughter, Marisa. He had been gone four weeks. After their separation of nearly two years—he’d left them in Texas with his sister while he made their future—he hated to be gone the few weeks that were necessary.

He was fifteen miles from town when he smelled smoke. He’d turned his horse toward the odor and found the ashes of what had been a small farm home. Three bodies were visible, a man and woman and young boy, all killed with arrows.

There had been renegade attacks in the past, but the new crossroads of Newton had been spared. When he and Jake and Gar had come to Colorado, first to mine, then to raise cattle, they’d taken pains to live in peace with the remnants of Indian tribes in the area.

There was nothing he could do at the burnt-out farm, so he spurred his horse on, fear beginning to gnaw at him. There were few hands left at his ranch; he had taken most of them with him on the Denver drive. Gar, who was originally going to go with them, had decided to stay and look after their three ranches, but he was miles from Alex’s place.

Alex wasn’t able to block his apprehension as he rode fast for his ranch. When he’d seen the large house standing tall on the rise that overlooked the river, he felt a flood of relief. He’d spurred his tired mount toward the porch.

Alex had almost jumped from his horse in eagerness, despite aching bones, and he’d strode quickly into the living area, calling for Mary. But only Therese, the hired help, answered.

“Where’s Mary?” he said, and something inside him lurched when he saw Therese’s apprehensive expression.

“She’s not here,
señor.”
Therese said sorrowfully.

“Where is she?”

“She…she’s gone over to
Señor
…Morrow’s, I think.”

The reply surprised Alex. He knew Mary liked both Gar and Jake, that she had even been courted by Gar before she had chosen Alex, but he’d never known her to visit him. He suddenly thought of the Indians again. “Did anyone go with her?”

“No,
señor.
No one ever does.”

It took a moment for her words to register. “Ever?”

Therese clapped her hand over her mouth as if she’d said something she shouldn’t, and she started to back away.

“Therese!”

“Señor?”

“What do you mean, ever? How many times has she gone?”

“Not so many,
señor.”

Alex felt his guts bunch up inside. “How do you know that’s where she went?”

“I heard them talking,
señor,
when he came over here.”

Alex’s heart was pounding now. Mary and Gar. He could understand Gar coming over to see whether everything was all right, but why would Mary go to Gar’s home? He was a bachelor, always had been. Whenever Alex prompted him to find a wife, he’d always said no, that there was only one Mary in the world and Alex had her.

“Why, Therese? Did you hear why?”

Her face turned red, as if she knew something, and Alex felt himself tense all over. Gar and Mary had always liked each other. They had always bantered in a way that was foreign to Alex, but he’d enjoyed sitting back and listening. Now he wondered. Why had Gar decided not to come to Denver? Why had Mary gone to the ranch?

“Why, Therese. Why?”

“I don’t know,
señor,”
she said. “I just heard…”

“Heard what?”

“The
señora
said she’d been waiting, that now you were gone…”

“Now I was gone…?”

“This was their chance.”

The pounding in his heart had climbed to his head. He felt hammering in it. Mary and Gar. Mary and Gar. No, he screamed inside. Not his best friend and his wife. Not Mary.

He whirled around, unable to stand the strong suspicions. He would go after her, confront them. Perhaps Therese had misunderstood.

His horse, drooping wearily at the hitching post, lifted its head at his return. He knew he should find another mount, but he didn’t have the patience. He had to discover the truth. He rode like the winds of hell.

He was halfway to Gar’s house when he spotted the carriage he’d bought for his wife. It was sitting alone on the golden hills just off the trail, the white carriage horse gone. He slowed his pace, anger being replaced by a fear he’d never known.

She was lying across the seat, her dark hair flowing across the fine leather, blood winding its way from her mouth. He dismounted and slowly walked to her. He knew from the angle of her body that she was dead.

An arrow had pierced through one of the breasts he’d loved and caressed. Another had pinned her arm to the carriage seat. His hand moved over the silkiness of her hair, the smooth ivory texture of her skin, and finally to the fine dark brown eyes. He closed them slowly.

Alex stood there, his life, so recently rich and full and good, in tatters. He didn’t have the solace of memories now. They had been ripped from him moments ago in his own home.

Gar. He had been the cause of this. The loss and grief were so strong, Alex needed something to take its place so he could survive. Gar, his friend. Gar, whom he’d trusted with his life and his wife, had now stolen both of them. She wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t tempted her, if she hadn’t driven alone to his ranch.

Nearly mad with grief and fury, he’d ridden to Gar’s ranch, and called him out. Gar came out, a smile on his face, until he saw Alex’s expression. Without warning Alex took out his gun and shot, hitting Gar in the side as a cowhand came running up, throwing his employer a gun. As Alex aimed again, Gar’s gun went off, and Alex knew an agonizing stab of pain before light became dark and he felt himself falling….

S
IXTEEN YEARS SINCE
then. Sixteen years of loneliness, of knowing betrayal by two of the people he loved best. Sixteen years of constant pain from Morrow’s bullet. Gar Morrow had taken his wife, and then the use of his legs.

Alex swallowed down the bile. He had waited all these years, had waited because of Jake, the one man he’d trusted after Morrow’s betrayal. Even then he would have moved against Gar Morrow had not Jake once saved his life and had called in the marker.

Both Gar and Jake had come to him, had denied Gar’s guilt, but nothing changed the fact that Mary had died. Alex knew that Gar had wanted Mary; Mary had died returning alone from Gar Morrow’s ranch. Alex couldn’t listen to any of Gar Morrow’s explanations. He knew, in succeeding years as he grew rich, that he could easily order Gar’s death, but that would be too easy. He wanted Gar destroyed. He wanted Gar to see everything he’d worked for destroyed just as everything Alex had worked for had been destroyed that cold fall day.

L
OBO WAS READY
when Keller and six others came.

He knew they would follow the river, and his repeating rifle was resting in his hands when they appeared at the dam.

Lobo was in the shadow of the trees, nearly invisible, but he could see each one of them. Keller led the party, and Lobo could hear his curses as the man spied the dam.

He also heard Keller give orders to three of the men to break the dam up. He waited until they had taken off their guns to keep them from getting wet and had waded into the water.

Lobo stepped out from the shadow. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, pointing the rifle straight at Keller’s heart.

Keller stared, his face paling. “Lobo!”

“Unbuckle your gun belt and throw both it and your rifle to the ground. One at a time.”

“Did you do this?” Keller nodded toward the dam, and Lobo knew the man was playing for time. What reputation remained to Keller would be shattered at being so easily unarmed by one man. His face was going from white to an angry red.

Lobo gave him a wolfish smile as he nodded toward the dam. “Not bad, is it? Now do as I say or I’ll make sure you never hold a gun again.”

Keller’s eyes went dark with fury, but he did as directed.

Lobo turned to the man next to Keller. “Now you. Be very, very careful.” After that man was disarmed, Lobo gave the same order to the third man. The three men in the river were standing absolutely still.

Lobo looked toward one of them, his rifle still aimed at Keller. “You. Get out and pick up those guns by the barrel, and throw them in the river.”

Keller sputtered. “You can’t do that…it’ll ruin them.”

“You’re trespassing, Keller. Be grateful I’m taking only the guns.”

“You can’t dam the river—”

“This gun says I can do anything I want,” Lobo said coldly. His rifle moved slightly to cover the man he’d just ordered to soak the guns. “Move!”

The man needed no more urging. He waded from the river, and one by one dropped the guns in the water.

When he was finished, Lobo gestured him and the others to remount. “Next time I find you on Taylor land, you’ll lose your horses too,” he said. “Maybe something even more important. Now get the hell out of here.”

Keller’s face suffused with rage. “This isn’t the end of it, Lobo. You can’t dam a river.”

“Tell Newton he doesn’t own the river. If he wants water, he’s going to have to bargain for it.”

“What do you want?” The question came quietly from another man, one who looked altogether different from Keller. Lobo turned his attention to him.

“It’s not what I
want.
It’s what I’m going to have,” Lobo said. “Miss Taylor can do as she wants with her portion of the river. She wants to share it with everyone who needs it.
Everyone.
Tell your boss that. Tell him in exactly those words. No water for Morrow, no water for Newton. It’s that simple.”

“He’s not going to let you get away with this.” The bluster came from Keller.

Lobo laughed contemptuously. “You want to try to stop me? Now? I’m ready to oblige.”

“I don’t have a gun, damn you.”

“Aw…no, I guess you don’t,” Lobo replied with a cold smile. “We’ll just have to wait until next time. Gives me something to anticipate. Now get out of here before I decide to confiscate your horses as well. Oh, and tell Newton there’s lots of places to ambush in these woods. Anyone tries to touch that dam gets a bullet for their trouble.”