Ralph Compton Death Rides a Chestnut Mare (8 page)

 

 

There was no trouble along the trail to Dallas. The only difficulty was Danielle's newly discovered infatuation with Tuck Carlyle. There were times when she dreamed of donning her female clothing, telling him the truth, and allowing him to have his way with her. But she quickly put all such thoughts from her mind. She must avenge her father before she did anything else. But there was a troublesome possibility that kept raising its ugly head. Suppose—now or later—when Tuck learned she was a woman, he didn't want her? There was no accounting for male pride. She swore like a man, looked, sounded, and acted like a man, and could draw and shoot like hell wouldn't have it. She found herself worrying more and more what the consequences might be of her having assumed the role of a man. Just as they were approaching Dallas, Tuck caught her off guard with a question.

“Dan, you want to find a cheap hotel room? Ma gave me the few dollars she had.”

“Save it,” Danielle said. “The weather's warm, and our camp won't cost anything. With so much to buy, you may have to add your few dollars to mine.”

“Yeah,” said Tuck, “I keep forgetting just how much we need. Since we have all of the afternoon ahead of us, let's find a mercantile and get them started on our provisions and ammunition list. Meanwhile, we can track down a gunsmith for the parts we need.”

With the roll of bills she had taken from Levi Jasper, Danielle had well over six hundred dollars, but she had set a limit of three hundred for the trail drive. However it came out, she would still need money to keep herself fed and supplied with ammunition. But there was much to be gained. Unanimously, she had been promised a hundred head of cattle, and if they brought as much as thirty dollars a head, that would be three thousand dollars! They left the wagon at the mercantile with instructions to load the supplies and ammunition as their list specified.

“Dallas is a right smart of a town,” Tuck said. “If we ride, it'll have to be bareback, on a couple of the mules.”

“Then let's ride the mules,” said Danielle.

Tuck laughed. “We won't have to worry about robbers. They'll figure if we had anything worth stealing, we wouldn't be riding mules without saddles.”

Eventually they found a gunsmith and, for fifteen dollars, got the springs and various other parts needed to restore all their Colts to working condition. Tuck insisted on paying the gunsmith from the little money his mother had given him.

“You should have let me pay for that,” Danielle said.

“We'll be lucky if you have enough to pay for all the provisions we're getting at the mercantile,” said Tuck. “It's still too soon to return to the mercantile. Let's go into some of the big saloons and see what they're like.”

“I don't drink,” Danielle said.

“Neither do I,” said Tuck, “but I may never get to Dallas again, and I'd like to have a look at some of it.”

They entered a prosperous-looking place called the Four Aces, and it being early in the afternoon, there were few patrons. Five men sat at a table, playing poker. Two women sat on bar stools and eyed the new arrivals with interest.

“Let's watch the poker game a few minutes,” Tuck said. “Maybe I can sit in for a hand or two. I still have five dollars.”

“Table stakes, dollar limit,” said the house dealer as Tuck and Danielle approached.

“I'll stand back out of the way and watch,” said Danielle.

She didn't approve of Tuck taking part in the game, and she was sure Mrs. Carlyle had not given Tuck her last few dollars for such a purpose. But she said nothing. Tuck hooked the rung of a chair with his boot, pulled it out, and sat down. He lost three pots before he started winning. He seemed to have forgotten Danielle as she stood with her back to the wall, watching the game. To her dismay, one of the painted women approached her.

“Hello, cowboy,” drawled the woman. “I'm Viola. While your friend's at the table, I can show you a good time upstairs. Just twenty-five dollars.”

“No,” Danielle replied. “I'm not interested.”

“So you don't have twenty-five dollars,” said the whore. “How about fifteen?”

“Ma'am,” Danielle said coldly, “I wouldn't have it if it was free. Now leave me the hell alone.”

Viola slapped Danielle across the face, and Danielle had to grit her teeth to avoid a similar response. A man didn't strike a woman—not even an insolent saloon whore. It was time to leave the saloon, and Danielle did so, waiting outside on the boardwalk for Tuck. He soon joined her.

“I won fifty dollars,” he said. “What got the saloon woman on the prod?”

“She wanted to take me upstairs for twenty-five dollars,” said Danielle, “and when I refused, she came down to fifteen dollars. I told her I wouldn't go upstairs with her if she was free.”

Tuck laughed. “Sooner or later, you'll have to get your ashes hauled.”

“My
what?
”

“Oh, hell,” said Tuck, “you
know
. Get with a woman.”

“There's no time or money for that,” Danielle said, “even if I was so inclined. I reckon you've already been there, have you?”

“No,” said Tuck sheepishly, “but I did look through a window once, watching Carrie taking a bath in a washtub.”

Danielle laughed. “I don't think that counts. A man shouldn't do that to his sister.”

“Damn it,” said Tuck, “there's not a female within riding distance of our place, except Katrina Chadman.”

“She's pretty,” Danielle said, trying mightily to hide her jealousy.

“She's also just sixteen,” said Tuck. “From what I hear, I think her ma dresses her in cast-iron underpants.”

Danielle laughed, slapping her thighs with her hat, as a man would do.

“Give her another year or two,” Tuck continued, “and some varmint will have his loop on her. Barney Dumont, Eric Chadman, Abram and Clement Baldwin, and the Flagg boys, Floyd and Edward, are all makin' eyes at her. What chance would I have?”

“None, if you don't get off your hunkers and make a bid,” said Danielle. “You could always take her swimming. You don't look too bad in your bare hide.”

“I might have known if anybody ever said that to me, it'd be some
hombre
,” Tuck said.

“You have fifty dollars,” said Danielle. “While you're here, you could always buy yourself a heavy hammer and a good chisel.”

“What for?” Tuck demanded.

Danielle chuckled. “For the cast-iron underpants.”

Tuck laughed in spite of himself. They reined up before the mercantile, where the other two mules were tied to a hitch rail. The canvas on their wagon had been raised, and one look told them the loading—or most of it—had been done. Barrels of flour sat on the floor of the wagon bed, while lighter goods were piled as high as the wagon bows would permit.

“My God,” said Tuck, “I hope we can pay for all this.”

“We might as well find out,” Danielle said. “Come on.”

“Three hundred and thirty-five dollars,” said the storekeeper. “I had to cut back to half the sugar and coffee beans you wanted, so's I'd have some for my regular customers.”

Wordlessly, Tuck handed Danielle thirty-five dollars with a wink while she counted out the three hundred. It was ironic that the fifty dollars he had won in the saloon had paid for the needed gun parts, with enough left to pay the mercantile.

They harnessed the mules, and only when they mounted the wagon box did Tuck say anything.

“Well, I'm broke. There goes the hammer and chisel.”

Danielle laughed. “Maybe you won't need it until we reach Abilene. By then, you'll have the money. Or maybe you can get in solid enough with Enos Chadman, he'll let you have the key.”

Tuck Carlyle actually blushed, and Danielle laughed. She had learned much in the ways of men, and when it came to cowboy humor, she was giving as good as she got.

“There'll be rain sometime tonight,” said Tuck, changing the subject.

“At least we have a wagon canvas to protect the load,” Danielle said. “I reckon we'll get wet, but we'll be wet many more times before we get to Abilene.”

 

“We're making good time,” said Tuck. “All the way from our ranch to Dallas and back to here in four days. We've come a good twenty-five miles today. If the rain don't bring mud hub-deep, we'll be home in another two days.”

But the rain started just before dark and didn't diminish until the next morning.

“Damn,” Tuck groaned, “we ain't going anywhere with this load. Not until there's been a couple of days of sun.”

They picketed the mules and sat down on the wagon tongue, allowing the morning sun to dry their sodden hats, boots, and clothing.

By way of conversation, Danielle spoke.

“If we find and gun these varmints down, there may be others who'll continue rustling your cattle. What of them?”

“If we make this drive successfully,” Tuck said, “we'll have money to hire riders and protect our stock. With cows selling for three dollars a head in Texas, we might actually buy some. Three thousand dollars would buy a thousand head. That many cows driven to the railroad in Kansas, my God, that's thirty thousand dollars.”

“Don't let me gun down your dreams,” said Danielle, “but we'll be reaching the railroad late in the season. Cattle buyers may not be paying as much as we're expecting.”

“Maybe not,” Tuck said, “but there's a chance they'll pay
more
than we're expecting. There likely won't be another herd until spring.”

Conversation lagged. Having already commented on the rain, the mud, the delay, the rustlers, and the possible price of cattle in Kansas, there seemed little else to say.

“That night, while I was on the porch, Carrie sat with me awhile,” said Danielle. “She tried to make me promise I'd come back to your place after I've avenged my pa.”

Tuck laughed. “You could do worse. Carrie's two years younger than me. By the time you get back to our place, Carrie will be a prize for some varmint. She'll be chomping at the bit to do something.”

“She's chomping at the bit
now
,” Danielle said. “She's likely to do something foolish.”

“I reckon,” said Tuck. “Has any woman ever done anything else, when it comes to a man? She'll likely be wantin' to share your blankets before we reach Abilene.”

“Tuck Carlyle, that's no way to speak of your sister,” Danielle said heatedly.

“Whoa,” said Tuck. “Don't go jumping on me. It was you that suggested she's after you like an old hen after a grasshopper. If she aims to bed down with some
hombre
, then I hope it's you, instead of one of the Dumont, Baldwin, Chadman, or Flagg boys.”

“Sorry,” Danielle said, “but I'm not beddin' with anybody until I've found and disposed of my pa's killers. Why don't you talk to Carrie, and give her some advice?”

“She'd tell me where to stick my advice,” said Tuck. “She always has before. If you promised to come back here, it might keep her out of trouble.”

“I can't use a lie to protect her,” Danielle said. “Before my search ends, I could be dead. Besides, after I'm gone, she'll forget. The Dumont, Baldwin, Chadman, and Flagg boys may begin to look a little more promising.”

Tuck laughed. “All any of them want is to take her somewhere and get her clothes off. Ain't you old enough to figure that out?”

“I reckon,” said Danielle, holding on to her temper. “While you're in Abilene, buy her some of those cast-iron underpants with the money, and throw away the key.”

That silenced him, and for a long time, neither of them spoke.

“There's more clouds over yonder to the west. Unless it rains itself out before it gets to us, there could be more rain late tonight,” Tuck finally said.

“Oh, damn it,” Danielle said, “we'll
never
get to Abilene. We may never get back to your ranch.”

But the rain ceased before it reached them, and the following morning Tuck came up with an idea.

“Why don't we hitch up the teams and see how far we can get today? I don't think I can stand another day sittin' on that wagon tongue, discussing cast-iron underpants for my sister, Carrie.”

Danielle laughed. “Maybe I'll tell her that's what you aim to buy for her in Abilene.”

“I don't care a damn,” said Tuck. “I've done told her everything a girl should know, and maybe more. I told her if she wants a snot-nose kid before she's seventeen, to just do anything that strikes her fancy. I got cussed out for my efforts.”

 

Despite the still muddy ground, Tuck and Danielle harnessed the teams and began their journey to the north. Tuck drove, steering the teams away from low places and keeping to high ground.

“You're good with a team and wagon,” Danielle said.

“I'm good at most everything I've tried,” said Tuck. “Of course,” he said, winking, “I got a few things I ain't tried.”

“One of them being Katrina, I suppose,” Danielle said.

“Hell, I can dream, can't I?” said Tuck. “I saw her watching you while we were there at the Chadmans. Chadman's impressed with you. By the time we get to Abilene, you may have already been inside those underpants.”

“Maybe,” Danielle said, for once not blushing, “but I'll tell everybody else what I've told you and Carrie. My pa's killers come first.”