Read Where the Deer and the Antelope Play (Code of the West) Online
Authors: Stephen Bly
No one got much sleep.
On Wednesday the men dug in the frozen ground until noon. They buried Rocky beneath the cedars behind the barn. Bundled up and blanket-covered, they gathered around the grave.
Danni Mae sang a haunting version of "Amazing Grace."
Stack eulogized from the 23rd Psalm.
Paula read from John 3 and verses from Revelation.
Tap offered a brief prayer.
Everyone cried.
The men rode out in the afternoon and brought back plenty of pine and cedar boughs for the girls to decorate the house for the wedding. While the women whirled around with this duty, the men took to the tack room early after supper.
“Wade, in all reality what can I do about Fightin’ Ed?”
“Shoot him.”
“What?”
“If you killed him and got away with it, chances are no one else would pursue the matter. Now I didn’t say that it was legal, moral, or biblical, but it would work.”
“How about a suggestion that is legal, moral, and bibl
ical?”
“The only thing you can do is go to him, tell him you want to keep the ranch, offer him a schedule for repayment of the loan. See how he responds."
“What if he refuses?”
“Nothing you can do legally. He’s got a right to buy a note that is past due and take po
ssession. Even if you were Hatcher, you’d lose the place.”
“So you’re sayin’ that it all depends on Fightin’ Ed’s good n
ature?”
“Yep.”
“You ain’t got one chance in hades,” Wiley asserted.
“Do you think I should look for a lawyer in Cheyenne?” Tap asked.
“A lawyer won’t be able to do a thing. If I thought it would make a difference, I’d go there with you myself,” Wade replied. “I reckon I can do you more good in Arizona. Frankly, the only thing that will save your ranch is a divine miracle.”
“That’s better than no chance at all. It would break my heart to lose this place, but it was Hatcher’s hard work that provided it. Not mine. Guess I’ll have to wait for that mir
acle.”
A hard floor. Freezing room. Long night. Tap thought da
ylight would never come. But it did.
And so did breakfast and chores and more conversations with Pepper. About 11:30 A.M. the double report of a rifle fired from the north.
Everyone was in the house when Tap heard the muffled explosion roll down to the ranch. He saddled Brownie and rode up the draw. Within an hour he was at the northern edge of his herd of longhorns.
One cow was dead, another wounded and struggling. Tap put her down with his Colt. Then he circled north into the trees and cut a fresh trail headed straight for the Wyoming border.
So you’re goin’ home for Christmas, Blackstone? Not if I catch up.
The clouds dumped a load. Snow fell with big, wet flakes the size of four-bit pieces. Within half an hour Tap was soaked to the bone. Within an hour, there was no sign of the trail north.
Tap refused to quit the pursuit. He pushed, kicked, spurred, and threatened Brownie through the storm hour after hour. They arrived at what he thought was the pass that led into Wyoming.
I don’t know if he’s ahead of me or behind me.
“I guess it’s time to go home, Brownie. If we don’t head back now, we’ll end up like Little Sister.”
The blizzard erased all sense of time of day. Tap stopped to build a warming fire and give Brownie a break. He huddled over the smoldering sticks for a long time, but the whistling wind and the wet snow combined to make a miserable fire.
“You might as well give it up, gunslinger,” the voice behind him shouted.
Tap didn’t bother turning around. He stayed crouched over the fire.
How in the world did I let him slip up on me? "
Yeah, Blackstone, it ain’t much of a fire.”
“I wasn’t talkin’ about the fire. I was talkin’ about the ranch. There ain’t no way you’re goin’ to keep it.”
“You sure aren’t the one who’s goin’ to take it away from me. I thought you had shot your quota of longhorns and went runnin’ back to Wyomin’. I didn’t reckon you’d face me. ’Course, you aren’t exactly facin’ me now.”
“You can turn around. I ain’t afraid.”
Tap slowly turned. He stared through the blizzard at Drew Blackstone’s cocked .45, about fifteen feet away. Beyond that, a waiting horse.
“Nice of you savin’ me another trip down to the ranch. I do believe Fightin’ Ed just might give me a bonus for shootin’ you.”
“Fightin’ Ed sent you to kill me?”
“Nah. He thinks the sheriff will evict you. But I fi
gure if I get the job done ahead of time, I jist might make foreman of this Colorado operation.”
“So that's why you keep coming down and taking potshots at my barn and cows?”
“Your barn, your house, your cows, and you, Andrews. What a shame if one of those big bullets just happened to plug you. I figured you’d come out after me days ago. In fact, I’d all but given up doin’ anything more than pop cows. But now you walk right into my sights. It’s sort of like an early Christmas present.”
“You think you’re good enough to kill me with one shot?”
“I guess we’ll find out. You aiming to pull leather?”
“Have I got any other choice?”
“Not that I can think of.”
A clump of heavy, wet snow slid off a tree limb high above Drew Blackstone. It plopped behind him. The gunman jerked his head. Tap pulled his Colt and fired.
Blackstone’s gun went off at the same time. But his bullet sailed to the right.
Blackstone staggered back and fired again, but Tap had dived into the snow behind a cedar tree. From behind the trunk he peered across the clearing. He couldn’t see Blac
kstone.
Did I drop him? Maybe he’s layin’ dead in the snow.
Tap waited behind the trunk as the snow fell. Finally, he squinted around the tree. A bullet crashed above his head. He dived back into the snow. As he rose up, ready to fire, he heard the whinny of a horse and the creak of saddle leather.
He’s tryin’ to ride out of here.
Tap ran to Brownie and swung into the saddle. Blackstone disappeared into the snowstorm about thirty yards ahead. He spurred Brownie to follow, but reined up after only two steps.
It’s just vengeance, isn’t it, Lord? I already chased him off my ranch, but it’s not even mine anymore. I’m just mad. Mad at losin’ the place. Mad at Fightin’ Ed for not leavin’ me alone. Mad at Blackstone for his arrogance. Mad at that bunch for burnin’ down the dance hall. Mad at Little Bob for badgerin’ Pepper. Mad at myself because Rocky died, and I couldn’t do a thing about it.
A man can’t live on anger alone, Lord. It’s a lousy life. I won’t do it anymore. You take care of this, Lord. Blackstone. Casey. The ranch. All of it. There are just some things I’ve got to learn to let You handle.
This is one of ’em.
I’ve got more important matters.
His thoughts turned to Pepper and the wedding.
I’m not goin’ to mess it up for her now.
The snow continued to pile up, and the frigid wind blasted his back as he rode through the darkening storm back down the slope of Medicine Bow Mountains. He pulled his hat low and slumped his shoulders, trying not to block any more of the storm than necessary. His eyes were almost squinted shut. His left eyelashes froze together, and he didn’t bother opening them up. He couldn’t keep his teeth from chattering.
This is stupid, Lord. Really stupid.
What am I doin’ out here on a day like this?
Cowboy pride. A deadly disease.
He knew he was losing direction and could only trust Brownie’s instinct. They groped for hours to find the ranch house. He feared they had ridden past it in the storm.
Finally, in the blinding snow he thought he discerned a movement in the trees. Pulling his Winchester, Tap dove off the saddle and rolled to his knees. With the ’73 cocked and pointed at a rider, he jumped at the sound of a holler from the right.
“Tap, if you don’t put that gun down, we’re liable just to ride back to the ranch and leave you out here laying in the snow.”
11
W
ade?”
“Yeah, me and Stack and Wiley were sent out here by the women to make sure you didn’t try to sneak out of gettin’ married. Where have you been?”
“I was chasin’ a cow-killer.”
“Stack, I believe he’s so nervous he’s delirious,” Wade teased as the three snow-covered men rode closer.
“I reckon you’re right about that. Kind of like a kid the first time they set foot in a dance hall.”
“All right, all right.” Tap stood and brushed the snow off his chaps. “You had your fun. You’re all lucky I didn’t pull the tri
gger.”
“Andrews, in all your life, did you ever pull the trigger blind, without knowin’ your target?” Wade pressed.
“No, but this could have been the first time.”
“Are you goin’ to mount up and come home to that yellow-haired girl, or do we have to rope and drag you in like that dead heifer?” Wiley chided. “You been actin’ mighty pec
uliar.”
“Peculiar? I just tracked Blackstone to the state line.”
“You shoot him?”
“I think I winged him, but he rode off.”
“And you let him go?”
“I just didn’t want to press it any further.”
“Tap Andrews lettin’ a bushwhacker ride out alive. He’s not in his right mind, boys. Coil your
reata,
Wiley. Let’s hogtie him before he makes a—”
“I’m mountin’. It’s too hangin’ miserable to argue with you three.”
“You can say that again,” Wiley roared. “There’s five of the purdiest women in the state of Colorado back in that warm house. Why in the world are we sittin’ out here in this blizzard?”
Wiley led the way home. Wade trailed behind. They made sure Tap rode in the middle with Stack alongside. The trip back to the ranch went quickly, broken up with jokes and jibes mostly at Tap’s expense.
When they reached the barn, they stalled the horses. Tap hiked into the tack room and lit a fire in the woodstove. He stood there alone for several minutes trying to dry out.
“You boys want to come warm up before supper?”
No answer.
He steppped to the barn door. “Hey, I’ve got a fire blazin’ in here.”
Did they all go to the house already?
“Stack? Wiley? Wade? You up in the loft?”
He ambled to the middle of the barn into the flickering shadows. Someone tackled him from behind. Both men crashed to the dirt floor of the barn. Tap reached for his holster, but the .44 was gone. Kicking wildly with his boots, he caught the man in the shins, but it didn’t budge the big man off his back.
“Hogtie him, boys.”
“Stack? What are you doin’?”
Wade Eagleman stepped out of the shadows and tied Tap’s bandanna over his mouth as Wiley tied his feet.
“Wha-at doya . . . ,” Tap tried to mumble.
They bound his hands and feet.
“Hiss is eel unny. Cut me oose,” he hollered.
“The old boy seems to have a speech impediment,” Wade chided. “I guess he’s ready for delivery. I’ll open the door if you two want to heft up the merchandise.”
Stack and Wiley grabbed the lashed Tap Andrews and carried him out of the barn and across the yard. Tap entered the house on their shoulders.
“You know there’s nothin’ more attractive than a man roped and tied,” Danni Mae teased.
Paula studied him. “They ain’t much for dancin’, but you always know where to find ’em.”
“They hardly take up any room. Why you can just pile two or three of ’em over in the corner," Rena chided.
Selena guffawed. “The next time I’m in Denver, I’m goin’ to buy a couple for myself.”
“Miss Pepper, here he is. Where do you want him?”
“Boys, the wedding isn’t until tomorrow. Toss him over by the fire. I’ll take care of him later since I’m a little busy right now tryin’ to get supper ready for this whole crew.”
“Eery unny. Un-ie ee.”
“Did you know that he mumbles like that?” Wiley remarked as they plopped Tap down by the fire. “You might want to trade him in on one that talks right.”
“I’m sure I can straighten out his speech problems,” Pe
pper asserted.
“Ey,” Tap tried to holler.
“Stack, it’s kind of noisy in here. How about you playing the piano? I think a little party music might be appropriate.”
“Old it,” Tap insisted.
“Paula, could you set the table for nine?”
Selena waltzed over to where Tap was bound. “Is she just going to throw him away? If nobody wants him, I’ll take him. Stack, would you help me toss him in the bedroom?”
“You touch him, and you’ll be sleepin’ in the snow tonight. Do you hear me, Selena?” Pepper shouted across the room. She turned to the men at the door. “All right, Wiley, cut him loose, if he promises not to leave the yard until after the wedding.”