by B. S. Dunn
‘What are we doing here?’ Mary-Alice asked.
‘Asking questions,’ Curtis told her.
They dismounted and climbed the steps on to the rough-hewn plank boardwalk.
‘I’ll wait outside if you don’t mind.’ Lester watched as they walked towards the door.
Curtis shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’
They went inside and found a solid-looking man with dark hair behind the counter. He looked up from the work he was doing and smiled. He said, ‘Good afternoon, sir, ma’am. How can I help you?’
‘We’re looking for some information about some land north of here that belongs to the lady,’ Curtis said.
‘Of course. Does the lady have the paperwork?’
Curtis shook his head. ‘Nope. Her husband was killed and it was taken from him.’
His gaze flicked to Mary-Alice. ‘Oh, dear. I’m very sorry, ma’am.’
She gave him a faint smile and said, ‘Thank you, Mr. . . ?’
‘Blake, ma’am. Terence Blake. You are?’
‘Mary-Alice Condon.’
Blake nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Condon, but without the papers there isn’t much I can do.’
‘You must have records?’ Curtis said.
‘Yes we . . . who are you?’
‘No one special. Records?’
Blake eyed Curtis with caution. ‘We do. . . .’
‘Well then, check.’
Blake considered protesting, but something about this stranger told him not to. Instead, he walked across to a filing cabinet and found the paperwork for the land. He came back to the counter, read over the paper and looked up. ‘Eric Condon was your husband?’
Mary-Alice nodded. ‘Yes.’
Blake frowned. ‘According to this the land was signed over to Bernard Brotherton.’
‘That’s a lie,’ Mary-Alice snapped.
‘It says so right here.’
Curtis reached across and snatched the form from his grasp.
‘Hey!’
El Tigre ignored him and read it for himself. It was right there, true enough. But it didn’t add up. Curtis knew it was fake, but it looked good enough to hold up in a court of law.
He held it across in front of Mary-Alice and pointed at the signature. In hope he asked, ‘Is this your husband’s mark?’
Mary-Alice studied it. She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’m sorry, ma’am,’ Blake said. ‘There’s nothing I can do.’
Curtis looked it over once again, then something caught his eye. ‘Mary-Alice, when was your husband killed?’
‘Almost three months ago, on the fifteenth.’
Curtis gave a cold smile. ‘This paper is dated the twenty-eighth. Someone made a mistake.’
Blake frowned. ‘Give me a look.’
Curtis passed it over. ‘It’s right there at the bottom.’
The lands agent seemed to pale noticeably. ‘Oh, my. You’re right.’
‘Looks like it was forged to me. There’s no way a dead man could sign it.’
Blake stared at him. ‘How do I know that you are telling the truth?’
‘Wait here,’ Curtis ordered.
He walked to the door, opened it and said to Lester, ‘Get in here.’
Lester entered and Curtis said, ‘Tell Blake here when Mary-Alice’s husband was killed.’
There was a long silence and Lester looked at the ceiling as he calculated dates in his head. He nodded and then, ‘Fifteenth.’
‘Does that help?’
‘Not really.’
‘Lester, go and find the local law and have him come over.’
‘Do I. . . .’
Curtis glared at him.
‘Sure, right away.’
The former saloon owner disappeared and Blake asked Curtis, ‘Just what do you intend to do.’
‘Well, what you are going to do while we wait is draw up a new contract. One that stipulates that Mary-Alice is the owner.’
‘I can’t do that,’ he blustered. ‘The land belongs to Mr Brotherton.’
‘No, it don’t.’
They were still arguing the finer points a few minutes later when Sheriff Clem Smith entered. He was a portly man but had an element of toughness about him.
‘What’s going on, Blake?’ he growled.
Blake told him and the sheriff shifted his gaze to Curtis. ‘Who are you?’
‘Jim Curtis.’
His face remained passive. ‘The feller they call El Tigre?’
‘Maybe.’
He nodded. ‘Hand over the paper, Blake.’
Smith looked it over and asked some more questions. ‘How do I know what you are saying is the truth?’
‘The feller who killed her husband goes by the name of Ike Andrews.’
‘Now that don’t surprise me. What are your intentions, ma’am?’ he asked Mary-Alice.
‘I want what is rightfully mine.’
‘It’ll have to go to court,’ the sheriff said. ‘Mind you, it looks as though you have a good case. However, I don’t like your chances.’
‘Why?’
‘Let’s just say that the judge and Brotherton are kinda friendly.’
‘You mean he’s in this Brotherton’s pocket?’ Mary-Alice stated.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Curtis took the paper and stared at Smith. ‘How about you?’
The lawman gave him an indignant look. ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.’
‘OK. You’re not. Mr Blake, is this the only copy of this paper?’
‘As far as I know.’
‘Good,’ Curtis said, and tore it up.
‘You can’t do that!’ the lands man exclaimed.
Smith chuckled.
‘Draw up another paper, Blake. One that states that Mary-Alice Condon owns the land. Like I asked you before.’
‘I’ve got to hand it to you, Curtis. You think on your feet. You figure that this might swing things the woman’s way when the only piece of paper declares her the owner?’
‘What it does is set things right.’
‘You know he won’t stand for it. He won’t back away from it.’
‘Neither will I,’ Curtis declared. He shifted his gaze to Mary-Alice. ‘This will get bad before it gets better. More than likely men will die. It’s up to you.’
She said, ‘Even if I get it, I don’t have any money to do anything.’
Curtis reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. He held it out. ‘There’s close to a thousand dollars there – take it.’
Mary-Alice looked horrified. ‘I can’t take it.’
‘Yeah, you can. I can get more. Lester and I can build you a cabin until something better can be afforded. With all the lumber on your land it shouldn’t be a problem. You can stock the range with young cattle, too.’
‘And where would I get them from?’
‘I’ll see Doug Morris. See if we can come to an arrangement.’
‘If we live long enough,’ Lester put in.
Curtis ignored him. ‘Well?’
Mary-Alice nodded. ‘Let’s do it.’
El Tigre looked at Smith. ‘You got any objection?’
‘Nope. Should be downright interesting.’
‘What should be?’
They all turned and stared at the man who filled the doorway.
Chapter 4
He was a solid-looking man in his forties, dressed in ranch-hand’s clothes, and he wore a Colt Army on his hip. His face was weathered, and his deep voice had an air of authority about it.
‘Yep,’ Smith said, ‘should be interesting.’
‘Would someone like to tell me what is going on?’
‘This, ladies and gents, is Bernard Brotherton,’ Smith said.
‘Bernard, meet Lester, Curtis, and Mary-Alice Condon.’
The last name was spoken for effect but there was no sign of any.
‘Pleased to meet you all. If you’re here looking to buy land, there’s not much lef
t, I’m afraid. By the way, call me B.B.’
‘We don’t need to buy it. The lady already owns some.’
Brotherton was confused. ‘She does?’
‘Yeah, north of town.’
‘I’m sorry, but I own all the holdings north of town.’
‘No, you think you do.’
Brotherton switched his gaze. ‘Mr Blake, would you care to explain.’
‘I . . . ahh. . . .’
Curtis said, ‘You thought you owned the land, Brotherton. But someone messed up. You see, when you get a man to sign the papers you might want to make sure he hasn’t been dead for two weeks already.’
Brotherton stared at Curtis. It was a fool mistake and he knew it. But he didn’t want to make too much of it just in case it wound up in court. Not that it would matter with Judge Reed, but courts drew attention. No, better to just wait and kill them after. He wasn’t about to pass up all that timber on the land. Unless. . . .
‘What are your intentions, Mrs Condon?’ he asked tightly.
‘We intend to settle on the land.’
‘How about I save you some trouble and make an offer for the land instead?’
Mary-Alice hesitated. ‘I . . . I don’t think so.’
Brotherton shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘Oh, well. Enjoy your stay.’
And then he left.
After the door closed, Smith frowned. ‘That was way too easy.’
‘I agree,’ said Curtis. ‘He’ll leave it up to Vince and his men.’
‘Who’s Vince?’ the sheriff asked.
Curtis said, ‘Hired gun. Asked me if I wanted to join them. Told him no.’
‘That’s all I need,’ Smith said. ‘More guns.’
‘You won’t get any trouble out of me, Sheriff. Not unless it comes calling.’
‘Yeah, that’s what worries me.’
They made the decision to spend the night in town. The following morning, Curtis would escort them to the valley where the land was, and then he would go and see Morris about some cattle.
Curtis left them at the hotel for the evening. He decided to enjoy a few drinks at one of the saloons, and chose the Silver Aspen. He bought a bottle and found a battered table in the corner. While he was seated there, he saw Brotherton come in, walk across to the biggest man at the bar, say something in his ear, then leave. At that point, Curtis wondered what had happened to Vince and his men. He was certain they would have made it here before him.
The man at the bar moved towards his table, his gaze not wavering from Curtis as he approached.
So, this is how it’s going to be.
The man stopped in front of Curtis and stared at him in menacing silence.
‘Apache war party cut out your tongue?’ Curtis asked.
‘Huh?’
‘Speak or get out!’
That got the ball started. He snarled something incoherent and grasped the front edge of the table. With a mighty sweep of his arm, the table flew to the left, scattering Curtis’s bottle and glass.
His jaw dropped when he saw that Curtis had drawn the Remington from its holster and had it pointing straight at him. Without hesitation, El Tigre squeezed the trigger and the six-gun discharged. The slug exploded from the barrel and crashed into the bull’s chest.
He staggered backwards, and Curtis shot him twice more with a brutal coldness that stunned those who witnessed it.
The man sank to his knees and fell on to his side. Curtis came to his feet and scanned the room for any other threats that Brotherton may have left in his wake.
‘That was blasted murder!’ a thin-faced man exclaimed.
Curtis stared him in the eye and shook his head. ‘Nope, that was killing.’
The batwings flew open and Brotherton entered. Vince was beside him. Curtis saw him and said, ‘You took your time getting here.’
He remained silent.
Brotherton looked shocked by the sight of the dead man on the floor. He glanced at Curtis and back to Vince. ‘You know him?’
Vince nodded. ‘Surprised to see you here.’
El Tigre shrugged. ‘Took the long way.’
‘You had no intention of going to Abilene, did you?’
‘I did, but I talked to a feller and he convinced me otherwise.’
It was then that Sheriff Smith chose to appear. He took one look at the man on the floor and asked, ‘What happened.’
‘It was murder, Clem,’ the thin-faced man blurted out. ‘Bremmer didn’t even have a gun.’
Smith stared at Curtis and waited for him to speak. Curtis said, ‘That was his mistake. Thought he could tear me apart without one.’
‘So, you shot him?’ Smith asked.
‘Have you seen the size of him? The bastard was the size of a bull buffalo.’
‘Arrest him, Smith,’ Brotherton snapped. ‘You heard the man, it was murder.’
Smith glared at Brotherton and Curtis said, ‘Fine. Arrest me. But first, give me the chance to shoot this asshole for putting his man on to me.’
‘I what?’
‘I saw you come in and talk to him. Seems mighty strange that your man would then come over to my table and start something he couldn’t finish.’
‘You can’t prove anything.’
Curtis raised the Remington until it was pointed at Brotherton’s guts. He eared back the hammer and said in a cool voice, ‘Vince, get your boss out of here before I gutshoot him.’
It was obvious Brotherton had never been threatened like this before, and didn’t like it one bit. Curtis watched them go and looked at Smith.
The sheriff said, ‘You just pissed against the wrong tree, my friend.’
‘He started it. But if he wants to push me, I’ll sure as hell finish it.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ Mary-Alice gasped as she looked around at the vista which was her new home.
‘It sure is something,’ Curtis agreed.
As far as the eye could see was a carpet of lush green set against a backdrop of large pines. No wonder Brotherton wanted the land.
Curtis eased his roan over to the creek and stared down into its crystal clearness at the round rocks scattered along the bottom of it. He climbed down and took a knee beside the water and scooped out a handful. He put it to his lips and tasted it. The liquid was cool and sweet. Spring fed from further up the valley, no doubt.
He was just about to climb back to his feet when he saw it.
Curtis’ blood ran cold as he stared at the massive paw print in the soft ground beside the creek. He opened his hand as far as it would go and placed it down. It didn’t even touch the sides. Somewhere out there was one hell of a big bear.
El Tigre finally stood erect and looked around. He glanced across at the others and said, ‘Don’t wander off.’
Lester took on a nervous expression. ‘What is it?’
‘Bear sign.’
Lester’s head pivoted so fast that it seemed as though it might come loose. ‘Where?’
Curtis pointed to it. Lester swallowed hard. ‘I think we should go back to town, now.’
‘Don’t worry. He’s probably long gone. They like to keep on the move.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
Curtis stared at Mary-Alice. He said, ‘I’m going to take a ride over to Morris’ tomorrow and have a word to him. Hopefully purchase that bull and some cows to start a herd.’
‘But I don’t think I have enough money for that,’ Mary-Alice pointed out.
‘I do. It’ll be fine.’
She shook her head. ‘No. I couldn’t ask you to do that.’
‘All right, how about I put up the money for a fifty per cent stake in the place,’ he saw her face change and knew she was about to protest. He held up a hand and added, ‘Before you get all het up about it, think on this. Once the place is up and running and making you money, you then can buy me out for the exact amount that I put into it.’
Mary-Alice hesitated, and then relented and said, ‘OK. We’ll do it that way.’
Chapter 5
One month later
The month that followed was quiet but busy. With hired help, the house was built along with a bunkhouse, barn and corrals. Morris sold Curtis a bull and twenty head of cattle. The start of a herd. He then bought a couple of horses and found a rundown wagon in town which he bought and fixed up. It had been the longest he’d ever stayed in one place for quite a spell.
Mary-Alice was happy, happier than she’d been in a while, and it was obvious. Lester found himself a new calling as a cowhand and took particular pride in learning all that he could about the ones that were on the land.
But that was all about to change.
Brotherton looked up at Vince from behind his desk. ‘It’s time to do something.’
The killer nodded. ‘Good. All this sitting around ain’t good for a man. What do you have in mind?’
‘To move forward we’re going to need a free hand. To get it, we’ll need the sheriff out of the way.’
Vince nodded. ‘OK. We can take care of that. We’ll do it tonight.’
‘Good. I have a man lined up to come in and take over as sheriff. I also want you to shoot that woman’s cattle.’
Vince knew who he meant. ‘Just the cattle? What about Curtis?’
‘No. Just give them a warning.’
‘I’ll tell you now, he ain’t the type to take warnings to heart.’
‘We’ll see,’ Brotherton said. ‘That leaves Morris. I’ve had enough of side-stepping around him. I want that timber on his land. With him out of the way, Cody will sell the timber stands to me.’
‘You sound like that’s possible,’ Ike Andrews observed from the corner.
‘A little bird told me that Morris split the ranch between both of his kids in his will. I’ve had a chat to young Cody and he’s all for selling the timber rights to me after his father is gone.’
‘You mean he’s more or less said that he don’t care if we kill his old man?’
‘He’s looking upon the gains he can make with his father out of the way.’
Surprised, Andrews said, ‘All right then. I’ll take care of it.’
‘You don’t have to, he’s going to do it himself.’
Andrews let out a low whistle. ‘There’s a son who loves his father.’
‘Loves his father’s money more.’
