“I’m sure you do, son,” Jeter said, clasping his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’ve got a job with me.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now, you men get your business done, and then ride on over to the LP,” Jeter said, purposely using the word, men. “Tell Colonel Puckett you’re hired on with McCall and Willis. He’ll put you up in the bunkhouse and provide you with board and found until we move out.”
Huge smiles spread across their faces.
“I promise you, Mr. Willis, you won’t be sorry,” GW said.
When Cade returned to Texana, he saw Jeter’s horse tied up in front of the hardware store, so he went in to find him.
“I thought a new axe and saw might come in handy,” Jeter said by way of greeting.
“Good idea.”
“How’d you do?” Jeter did not specifically ask about the cook.
“Get your tools, and then come meet me at the Horn Toad.”
Cade was studying a piece of paper when Jeter got to the saloon. He grabbed a glass of beer and sat down.
“We can count on Ian Campbell, Boo Rollins, Art Finley, Muley Morris, and Petey Malone.”
“That’s good,” Jeter said. “Everyone of ‘em rode with us last year. Anybody else?”
“Yeah, I signed on a new man, Jeremiah Mudd. Nobody knows much about him, but he says he made a couple of drives out of Wyoming before he came here. Now, what about you?”
“I got Mo Bender,” Jeter said as he took a swallow of beer. “He rode for Chris Dumey last year, and since Dumey’ll have some cows in the herd, Mo should be a pretty good hand. And the kid brought me two more, Timmy Ponder and Troy Hastings. They aren’t any older than GW is, but I was only fourteen myself when I started out, back before the war.”
Cade added Jeter’s names to his list. “Sounds like we’re done.”
“I don’t think so,” Jeter said.
“Jeter, we’ve signed up ten men and including the two of us, that’s twelve men. If we can’t take 2500 cows up the trail, I think we’d better get out of the business.”
“Aren’t you forgettin’ someone?” Jeter asked.
Cade looked over his paper. He shook his head. “No, I think I’ve got ‘em all.”
“The cook? Who’d you get for the cook?”
“I went to see Remigio Vasquez,” Cade said.
“And?”
“He says he’s too old, but he recommended a couple others.”
“And?”
“They don’t want to go.”
“So what you’re telling me is, we’re stuck with Weldon,” Jeter said.
“Was he really that bad? Maybe we can convince him to put in some of Remigio’s peppers.”
“Remigio’s peppers are not going to help Ike Weldon’s cooking.” Jeter drained the last of his beer and stood up. “One good thing, we don’t have to eat it tonight. What do you think Maggie will have for supper?”
“It’s dinner.”
“It’s too late for dinner,” Jeter said. “It’s supper time.”
Cade shook his head. “You’ve not been listening. Both Arabella and Maggie insist that supper is dinner.”
“Well if that’s the case, what do they call dinner?”
“They call it lunch.”
“Lunch? Nah, lunch is somethin’ you keep in your saddle bag, when you don’t have time for anything else,” Jeter insisted.
Cade chuckled as he grabbed his hat and started for the door. “You just wait, you’ll come around.”
“Hey, Cade, look at that,” Jeter said, looking through the window as they passed by the Buckner-Ragsdale Mercantile store. He was pointing to a silver brush and comb set. “Now, isn’t that just about the prettiest thing you ever did see?”
“Turned into a dandy, have you?” Cade asked with a teasing little laugh.
Jeter scowled. “Not for me, you numskull. I mean for Maggie. You think she’d like somethin’ like that?”
“She probably would, but you know what you’re doing, don’t you?” Cade asked.
“What’s that?”
“Well, if you buy something for Maggie, that means I’ll have to buy something for Arabella.”
“Well, don’t you want to?”
“Yeah,” Cade said with a smile. “I do want to.”
Horn Toad Saloon, Texana
Kilgore was sitting at a table with Bull Kolinsky. Bull stood, three inches over six feet tall and weighed well over two hundred pounds. None of it was fat. He had a short forehead, a prominent eyebrow ridge, gray, beady eyes, flattened nose, a protruding lower lip, and a receding chin. His job was that of a wagonwright at the blacksmith shop. He was very strong and often, when changing a wheel, disdained the use of a jack, holding the wagon bed up with his bare hands while someone else fitted on the wheel.
“You know what I want you to do, don’t you?” Kilgore said.
“Yeah, you want me to pick a fight with this McCall fella,” Bull replied, in a low, rumbling voice.
“Don’t talk so loud,” Kilgore cautioned.
“This here’s the only way I know how to talk,” Bull replied.
“Well keep it a little quieter,” Kilgore said as he leaned closer to Bull. “You understand I want more than a fight. I want him hurt. Do you think you can do that?”
“I can kill ‘im if you want me to.”
“No, no, you don’t have to go that far—maybe a broken arm, or better yet, a broken leg.”
“What’d this McCall do to you? Why do you want ‘im hurt?” Bull asked.
“I want him hurt so’s he can’t go on this cattle drive Puckett’s got lined up. You think you can do that for me?”
“How much you payin’?”
“Fifty dollars.”
Bull held out his hand. “Give me the money.”
“Nope,” Kilgore said. “After the jobs done.”
“Then find somebody else.” Bull stood quickly.
“Hold on.” Kilgore took out a ten dollar bill and handed it over. “This is a hell of a lot of money. I’m trustin’ you’ll get the job done.”
“Has Big Bull ever let you down?”
MW Ranch:
Over the supper table that evening Cade and Jeter compared notes about the men they had gotten for the upcoming cattle drive.
“I figure we’ll put Rollins on point,” Cade said.
“Yeah and two of the young’uns, I’d say Hastings and Jones will ride drag,” Jeter said.
“They’re going to be eating a lot of dust,” Cade said. “You think they can handle that?”
Jeter laughed. “That’s what young’uns do on cattle drives. Hell, my first two or three drives, I swallowed enough dirt to start my own ranch.”
“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Arabella asked.
“It could be another three months,” Cade said.
“That’s a very long time.”
“No longer than it was last year.”
“Oui, but when you made the drive last year, I had Maison Rouge, and all the people who lived there to keep me company. Here, I have nothing to do while you’re gone.”
“We won’t be gone as long as we were gone last winter, and besides you and Maggie have each other,” Cade said. “And there’s Titus and Mary. They’ll be putting in a garden before long and you’ll want to help them.”
“All that is true. We did get along just fine, but, Cade . . . .” Arabella stopped in mid sentence.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Cade asked.
“It’s just that . . . it’s just that I miss you so much.”
A broad smile crossed Cade’s face. “And I miss you, too, but when we get back it’ll be that much better.”
“You know what I’m thinkin’?” Jeter asked. “I mean, seein’ as how these two fixed us this real good tastin’ supper and all, I’m thinkin’ that this might be a good time to give you a little present I bought.” Jeter directed his smile toward Maggie
“Pour moi? For me?”
Maggie said, translating quickly.
“Yeah, for you. I tell you what,” Jeter said with a little laugh. “If I stay around you long enough, I’m goin’ to have to learn French, I can see that right now.”
“Je serai très heureux de vous enseigner, Monsieur Jeter,” Maggie said in a low, throaty voice. When she spoke the name ‘Jeter’, it came out as ‘Zheeter’.
“Whoa now, I don’t have any idea what you just said, but I sure did like listenin’ to you say it.”
Arabella laughed, the laughter sounding like the tinkling of wind chimes. “She said she would be very happy to teach you, Mister Jeter.”
Jeter walked over to the saddlebags he had brought into the cabin with him, and pulled out the silver comb and brush set.
“I thought you might like this,” he said.
“Oh, thank you, Jeter, it is beautiful!” Maggie said effusively, augmenting her thanks with a kiss.
“Now, see there, Cade. If you had somethin’ for Arabella, why, she might’ve givin’ you a kiss too,” Jeter said. “Oh, wait, you did get somethin’ for her, didn’t you?”
“You have something for me?”
Cade went over to his saddlebags and withdrew a small, black-cloth bag. Returning to the table he gave the little bag to Arabella. Smiling she pulled the drawstring then turned it up to drop the contents in her hand. It was a gold ring, and she looked up at Cade with a shocked expression on her face.
“Cade, this . . .”
“Yes it is,” Cade said. “It’s a wedding ring. I think you aren’t supposed to wear it until we’re married.”
“You are asking me to marry you?”
“I am, I mean, that’s why I bought the ring. And if you say no right now, in front of Jeter and Maggie, well I have to tell you, it’s goin’ to be damn embarrassing.”
A huge smile spread across Arabella’s face. “What makes you think I would say no? Of course, I’ll marry you, Cade McCall.” She threw her arms around him as he hugged her too him.
“We’ll get married this summer as soon as we get back from Abilene.”
“That makes me very happy,” Arabella said. “Now I know what Magnolia and I will be doing this summer.”
“And what is that?”
“We’ll be learning to sew. My first project will be my wedding dress.”
10
Horn Toad Saloon, Texana:
Boo Rollins asked Cade to meet him at the Horn Toad, and as soon as Cade stepped inside, he saw Rollins and two other men sitting at a table.
“Cade, I want you to meet a couple of fellers I ran into,” Rollins said. “This here’s Alberto Tangora, and this is Esteban Garcia.”
Cade extended his hand to each of the men as he nodded his head.
“If we’ve got a spot for them, I think they’d make us some mighty fine hands,” Boo said.
“We could use a couple more men, especially since we’ve got some youngsters with us,” Cade said. “Have either of you made a drive before?”
“Si, Senor, we both made many trips with Senor Goodnight,” Tangora said. “Estaban even made the first drive when Senor Loving got his cows to the Mescaleros.”
“That was to Fort Sumner wasn’t it?” Cade asked.
“Si, Senor,” Garcia said. “We call it Bosque Redondo.”
“Well, it’s the lore of any roundup what you men had to go through to get to the tribe,” Cade said. “People say the cows went three days without water.”
“That’s true, but along the Pecos—the serpiente de cascabel—that’s what I remember most.”
Cade chuckled, recognizing the Spanish word.
“Well I can’t promise you we won’t run into any rattlesnakes, but if you men can make it on the Goodnight Trail, you can ride with McCall and Willis all the way to Abilene,” Cade said. “Boo, good job, finding these two; take them out to the LP and . . .”
“McCall, get them whiffy Mexican sons of bitches out of here! They’re stinking up the whole place,” someone shouted his loud, booming voice, bringing all other conversation to a complete stop.
“Bull, there’s no need to call ‘em out,” the bartender said. “Nobody’s causing any trouble.”
“Well, what do you call this stink? That’s causin’ me trouble. I can’t taste my beer, the stink’s so bad,” Bull Kolinsky said. “I say I don’t want these Mexicans in here, ‘n if McCall don’t take ‘em out of here now, I’m goin’ to throw both of ‘em out, ‘n then I’m goin’ to whip McCall’s ass.”
“Tell me, Mr.Kolinsky, just how is it that I’ve offended you?” Cade asked.
“You brung them two Mexicans in here, that’s what you done that offended me.”
“Well, not to make a point of it, but these two gentlemen were already here when I came into the saloon,” Cade said. “The smell didn’t bother you then so why are you bothered by it now?”
Bull ran his hand through his hair as he tried to come up with a response to Cade.
“It’s you that bothers me,” he finally said. “You think you’re better ‘n ever’ one, but you ain’t,” Bull said.
“Oh, I’m not better than everyone, Bull.” Cade flashed a cynical smile. “Just some people.”
Bull was uncertain as to whether or not he had been insulted, and he blinked several times, then raised his arm and pointed a thick finger at Cade.
“Like I said, I’m goin’ to beat the hell out of you.”
Cade walked over to the bar.
“Mr. Kolinsky, you and I have obviously gotten off on the wrong foot this morning.” He turned to the bartender who, like everyone else in the saloon was watching the drama being played out in front of them. Cade put a dime down on the bar. “I’ll have a beer, Samson, and draw one for my friend, too.”
Samson drew a beer and set the mug in front of Cade. He drew a second mug of beer and put it in front of Bull, who with an angry swipe of his hand, sent it onto the floor, spewing the golden liquid.
“I know what you’re a doin’ and you ain’t gonna fool old Bull. You’re a shakin’ in your boots, cause you know what’s a comin’.”
Cade lifted the beer and took a swallow before he replied. “All right, Mr. Kolinsky, you go ahead and do what you feel you have to do.”
“Huh?”
Cade smiled. “Beat the hell out of me,” he said.
This wasn’t the kind of reaction Bull was used to getting, and for just a moment, he had a confused look on his face. Then the expression turned to one of anger, and with a roar, he lowered his head and charged Cade, depending on his strength and size to overwhelm his opponent.
Cade, still holding his beer mug in his right hand, stepped to one side and with the fingers of his left hand extended and joined, he made a hard thrust into Bull’s solar plexus. That had the effect of taking all the wind out of the big man and he bent over, as he tried to catch his breath. While he was vulnerable, Cade brought his heavy beer mug crashing down over Bull’s head. He crashed to the floor, with his head striking the brass railing at the foot the bar.
“Son of a bitch!” one of the saloon patrons said, the words spoken not in anger, but in awe. “I never thought I’d see anyone whup Bull like that.”
“He didn’t whup ‘im, he tricked ‘im,” another said.
“You mean, by knocking him out, he tricked him?”
“No, I mean . . . no, hell, you’re right. He did whup ‘im.”
Cade lifted the mug to take a swallow of beer, then saw that the glass was empty, the beer having all splashed out when he brought it down on Bull’s head. He held it out toward the barkeep who, like everyone else, was stunned at how quickly, and how easily, Cade McCall had handled the big man.
“Samson, it looks like I’m going to have to have a refill,” Cade said. “The beer seems to have splashed out.”
Cade put a nickel on the bar, but the bartender pushed it back.
“No, sir, Mr. McCall, this is on the house,” Samson said.
“No it ain’t,” Boo Rollins said.
He smiled. “I aim to pay for it. It was damn fine, watchin’ ole Bull get took down like that.”
With a groan, Bull began stirring, then with some effort, managed to regain his feet.
“What happened?” he asked. His left eye was swollen and black, though the bruise covered more than his eye. It also spilled down to his cheekbone.
“You tripped and fell,” Cade said. “And you hit the foot rail. Look at yourself in the mirror.”
Bull did so, touching the bruise gently, with the tips of his fingers. “Damn!” he said. “The foot rail did that?”
“It sure did.”
Bull put his fingers to the top of his head, then winced with they encountered the bump there.
“What I don’t understand is how come the top of my head hurts,” Bull questioned in sincere confusion.
“I don’t know, you must‘ve bumped it on the bar when you fell,” Cade said.
“Yeah, I must’ve done that.” The confusion on Bull’s face became even more pronounced, and he pointed a thick finger at Cade. “Say, wasn’t me ‘n you . . .?”
“Having a drink together?” Cade said, answering Bull’s unfinished question. “Yes we were, but you seem to have spilled yours in the fall. Samson, give this man another beer; it’s on me.”
“Yes, sir, coming right up,” the bartender said, and it was no quicker said than done, because a large mug of beer appeared on the bar in front of Bull.
“Thanks,” Bull said, lifting the mug.
Leaving the saloon, Cade rode with Rollins, Tangora, and Garcia out to the LP Ranch, to introduce his two new riders.
“So, I hear you had a run-in with Bull Kolinsky,” Puckett said.
“What? How could you possibly know that? It just happened.”
“Art Finley saw it, and he rode out here to tell me about it.”
“Hmm. I didn’t notice Art in the saloon.”
Puckett chuckled. “Understandable, you were a little busy at the time.”
“I don’t know what set him off,” Cade said. “He said it was because of Alberto and Estaban, but they were already in the bar, so I don’t think that was it.”
“Men like that don’t need anything to set them off,” Puckett said. “He’s a big strong man who enjoys beating people up. I expect he was very surprised when he came to and learned you had whipped him.”
The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set Page 29
