Sunset Pass (1990) (10 page)

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Authors: Zane Grey

BOOK: Sunset Pass (1990)
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"No. I'll stick, Amy. If there's anythin' in these hints I reckon the Prestons need me all the more."

She did not speak again for several blocks. She held his arm closely. Rock did not have anything to say.

"True, I like you better than I used to," she said softly. "What will you wear at my masquerade?"

"Look here, little lady, that's not fair. I won't tell you."

"You must. I'll never be able to recognize you. I remember how clever you used to be. The unmasking will not take place until dinner. That'll be late, Trueman. And I'll want to know you, in case I need you. You may have to throw Clink Peeples out."

"So the honour of protectin' you falls to me," laughed Rock. "I've half a mind you're lyin'. But I'll stifle my suspicions. Amy, I've bought a dandy broadcloth frock suit, black. Also a fancy vest, shirt with ruffles, flowin' black tie and black mask I'll come as a flash gambler."

"You'll look grand. Bet you make more than one heart ache," she returned, with a glance of mischief and regret.

Next morning about eleven o'clock, Rack strolled out of the hotel on his way to see John Dabb. He was shown into that individual's private office, and walked into a richly furnished room, where two men sat smoking.

"Howdy, Mr. Dabb!" said Rock, easily. "Reckon you know me."

"Trueman Rock!" exclaimed Dabb in great surprise. "Hesbitt, this is True Rock, one of the real riders we used to have. Rock, shake hands with Hesbitt, one of our new ranchers."

Hesbitt bowed stiffly and spoke without offering his hand.

Rock looked squarely at him. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Hesbitt."

"Well, Rock, to what am I indebted for this call?" queried Dabb.

"Remains to be seen whether you'll be indebted to me or not. Reckon that's up to you," replied Rock. "Mr. Hesbitt, I heard this mornin' that your foreman Peeples was in town wantin' to see me.

"Yes, he got in early, and I believe does want to look you up."

"Reckon he can't be particular eager," drawled Rock. "I've been up and down street, and in and out of the hotel all mornin'--lookin' for Mr. Peeples."

"Ah! I see. I dare say he's very busy buyin' supplies," replied Hesbitt, nervously. "May I inquire--er--what you want of my foreman?"

"Nothin' so important--that is, to me," said Rock. "I just wanted to give Peeples opportunity to meet me. And to tell him somethin'."

"What?" asked Hesbitt, whose sallow face slightly paled.

"Reckon I'd sure like you to know as well. I just want to give you a hunch. Not till two days ago did I ever hear of the Half Moon brand. And not till yesterday did I learn what outfit ran it."

Manifestly Rock's cold, biting speech impressed Hesbitt, but scarcely to the acceptance of its content. He picked up his hat from the desk. "Dabb, your former cowboy's talk is queer, if true," he said curtly. "I'll leave you to renew old acquaintance. Good day."

"Hesbitt, you're new to this range," rejoined Dabb, a little caustic. "I've told you! before. And your Wyoming cowboy foreman needs to be told--or he'll get into trouble. This is not Wyoming. I'm bound to tell you that Rock's talk is not queer. I'll gamble it's true. I never knew him to lie. And no old rider or cattleman on this range would say it, even if he thought it."

Hesbitt bowed and went out, jarring the door.

Dabb bit viciously at his cigar. "Some of these new cowmen make me sick. Rock, help yourself to a smoke and sit down."

"Dabb, I sure appreciate what you said to him about me," replied Rock. "Fact is I'm surprised, too. I'd been told you had no use for me."

"Rock, that's not the point," returned Dabb quickly. "When I knew you were honest, I was bound to say so. Your connection with Preston has started rumours. Hesbitt has been losing more stock than any of us. His outfit is a hard-nut bunch from Wyoming. They think you're--well. I don't want to repeat gossip. But whether or not I have any use for you I'd sure need to see proof of your dishonesty."

"That's straight talk. I like it and thank you. Dabb, did I ever do you any dirt?"

"You quit me, left me in the lurch," replied Dabb testily.

"But be fair, at least," responded Rock earnestly. "I had to leave quick--or kill another man, and one generally liked here, Cass Seward."

"You may have thought so. Cass told me once you didn't need to run off. He could have fixed it up. Arrested you--and let you off. It was an even break, you knew. Anyway, I know everybody was glad you bumped that fellow off."

"Ahuh! I'm sorry I didn't know that," said Rock. Then he shook off dark thoughts. "Dabb, did you have anythin' else against me?"

The rancher thrummed on ins desk while revolving this query.

"Look me straight in the eye," went on Rock. "Man to man, Dabb. If you have cards on me lay them down. I'm comin' clean honest--and a lot might depend on you doin' the same."

"All right, Rock, I'll meet you," replied Dabb, flushing darkly. "Straight out then. I've sort of held against you--that old affair of yours and Amy's."

"Good!" exclaimed Rock, cracking a fist in his palm. "That's just what I wanted you to admit. The old women gossips gave Amy the worst of that affair. She was pretty and vain--and had a way with the boys. But she was good and if they ever said otherwise they lied. I was in love with Amy. Perhaps a little more so than I was with two other girls. But what I want to make clear to you Dabb, is that Amy was never serious about me. I mean never in love as it was in her to be. And I'm satisfied that she never has been yet. Even with you--her husband. You'll excuse me, Dabb, but this is blunt straight talk."

"It is, by God! And to what end, Rock?"

"Amy's happiness," flashed Rock "I met Amy the day I arrived in Wagontongue and again yesterday. Dabb, she'd scalp me alive if she ever found out I told you this. She's lonesome and unhappy. I don't believe Amy ever would have married you if she hadn't cared somethin' for you. But you've failed to win the best in her. Dabb, I don't suppose anyone ever dared to hit you this way. I don't care a damn how angry you get, if I can only make you see."

"You're makin' me see red, cowboy," replied Dabb hoarsely. "But go ahead. I've not the nerve to pull a gun on you."

"Dabb, I always had a hunch you weren't a bad fellow, under your skin. The range claimed you drove hard bargains, and the cowboys didn't exactly like you. Maybe that was justified. All the same as ranchers go, you sure were white. You're rich now. You don't have to eat, sleep, drink and smoke business. Pay some attention to your young and pretty wife! Take the girl away occasionally, to Kansas City or Denver. California in winter. And before long, old-timer, you'll be glad. If you don't do this, sure as I'm sittin' here, Amy is goin' to the bad. That's what I came to say and that's all." Rock ended abruptly.

Dabb writhed in his chair, fury and shame contested with the sense of fairness that seemed dragged out of his depths. "You are a--queer one--Rock," he stammered. "You've hit me where I live, and it hurts like sixty. But you talk like a man. And I'm not yet so set in my mind that I can't learn from any man. If the truth turns out as straight as your talk--well, young man, you're on parole till I find out. Now since you've presumed to advise me on a delicate matter, I'll retaliate. Quit Preston!"

"Why?" snapped Rock.

"You know the range, Rock. Some things just can't be said."

"Because they can't be proved."

"Exactly."

"Well, Ill stick to Preston until these damned underhand rumours are proved--or until somebody suffers for startin' them."

"That may work out too late for you. I think I ought to tell you I've broken business relations with Preston last Friday."

"May I ask what were the business relations?"

"Preston had the small end of a cattle deal with me. I bought him out. And then I cancelled all beef orders."

"How did Preston take that?"

"Kicked about the cattle deal. But I took it he was relieved to get out of selling me more beef."

"Relieved--what you mean?"

"He just struck me that way. Didn't ask me why. I was glad. My reason was good, but I could scarcely divulge it to him."

"Mind tellin' me?"

"Yes. I'd mind. It would necessitate violating someone's confidence. You'll have to find out for yourself, Rock."

"Reckon so. By the way, Dabb, are you still head of the Territory Cattle Association?"

"No, I resigned. Nesbitt was recently elected."

"Gee! Sorry to hear it," returned Rock. "Good day, Dabb. Reckon I'll meet up with you at the rodeo and the dance."

In the afternoon, rather late, Rock walked round to see Winter.

"Hey, you been drinkin'?" expostulated Rock, holding his friend at arm's length.

"Nope. That is, not red liquor. But I shore been drinkin' in Thiry's sweet smiles an' words."

"Dog-gone! I didn't expect her till tomorrow."

"True, she has been in half a dozen times," went on Winter. "Asked for you every time!"

"Sol, you lyin' old geezer! My heart might stand her askin' once. But six times!"

"Son, mebbe it's not all gospel truth. When she first run in she was her old nice sweet cool self. Kissed me. Said she an' Alice were out at my house. She asked if I'd seen you. An' I told her I hadn't yet today, but thet you'd be in. An hour later she came in again, somehow different. She bought buntin'. She was helpin' Amy Dabb decorate the dance hall. Asked had I seen you yet, an' I said no. She went out an' pretty soon came back, a little more different She had a red spot in each cheek. An' so she came an' went, till the last time, a little while ago, when she was with Amy. Then you bet she didn't ask about you. True, shore as you're born, Amy had been fillin' poor Thiry full of guff about how wild you was over her, an' mebbe was yet."

Rock heard Winter, but only vaguely, for he was rushing out to the door, where through the window he had espied Thiry Preston. "Why, hello!" he said, forcing a pleasant surprise to hide his rapture, as he doffed his sombrero. "Heard you were here. Really didn't expect you till tomorrow."

"We started at daybreak yesterday morning," she was saying. "The boys were no good at all, and the youngsters simply mad to come--so Dad sent us off a day ahead. Ash stayed home."

Rock felt in with her short quick steps and made careful remarks about the weather, and the town being full of people, until they reached the baker's, where she was to order things for Mrs. Winter.

"I'll wait for you," said Rock.

"Are you afraid to walk into a bakeshop with a girl?" she asked, and the bonnet-brim tilted just far enough and long enough for him to catch a flash of grey eyes. "From what I've heard--recently--you could march into a lion's den--for a---for certain people."

"Ahuh, reckon I could--for--for a certain person," replied Rock. That brought the blue bonnet-brim down to hide most of her face. Rock, however, thought he caught a glimpse of a colouring cheek. He escorted her into the store, stood beside her while she gave her orders, and accompanied her out.

"I'm to wait here for Allie," said Thiry, stopping outside.

"Hope she'll be late," returned Rock, trying vainly to find himself.

Presently she lifted her head and Rock devoured her lovely face before he realized it had never worn such an expression for him: doubt, disdain, petulance!

"You're going to the dance," she said. It was not a question.

"Reckon I'll drop in for a peep."

"Would you tell me what you'll wear?"

"Thiry, that'd spoil the fun. I sure want to fool you," he said.

"Have you not already fooled me?"

"I have not!" he shot at her, swift to speak his sudden passion.

"Trueman Rock, you have a great deal to disprove and more to prove," she said, wide strange eyes on his.

"You would not tell me what you were going to wear--so I'd recognize you first."

"Of course I'll tell you," he burst out.

"I don't care to know now. You would not see me, anyhow."

He could only stare mutely.

"Mr. Rock," she went on, without the scorn, "I had better explain my rather bold words. This dance was to be the first gay happy time for me since I grew up. Dad somehow prevented Ash from coming to town. He filled me with--with beliefs about how you would make it wonderful for me. I have no one but my brothers, and they all have their girls. I--I dreamed myself into--no matter what. Then I come to town to have my ears filled to burning--all day long. The dance was to be given for you! You wouldn't even dance with any other woman but her! You were an old lover renewing his vows! You--"

"Thiry, hush!" interposed Trueman in rage, despair, and exaltation, all bewilderingly mingled. "I told you I didn't care what anyone said to you about my old affairs. But if you care, then I hate the very thought of them."

"Trueman, I trusted you and that woman has killed it."

"Oh no, Thiry, don't say that," he implored.

"But there's a secret understanding between you and her--for this dance."

"Yes, there is. But it's sure not sentiment on my part," he replied humbly. "Thiry, if you won't trust me, I shall have to give her away. And I never did that to a girl in my life."

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