by Lough, Loree
Because it would break Josh’s heart to learn she had joined Him in heaven while he was so far from home.
33
Their first day on the trail, Josh and Dan talked about little else than the promising potential a fresh, new bloodline would bring to the Lazy N. The family had already earned a reputation for sturdy, weighty cows, but they couldn’t take the chance that news of the anthrax outbreak hadn’t spread east and north, where their regular buyers were. Folks feared the disease, and that alone threatened the ranch’s solvency.
“Hard to believe something you can’t see or smell could cause such mayhem,” Dan said. “If I live to be a hundred, I don’t think I’ll ever forget how those poor animals looked, lying there.”
The comment roused ugly images in Josh’s mind, too, starting with the blood oozing from every possible orifice of the wide-eyed bovines to their struggle to breathe during their last agonizing moments. George had been the one to identify the problem; his father and grandfather had experienced the same thing in Mexico. Whether or not it was mere superstition, his advice to let the land go fallow indefinitely was not ignored by the Nevilles.
Dan peered through the scope of his rifle. “Seems a shame we can’t use those acres for fifty years.”
“Everything I’ve read indicates it should be even longer,” Josh said glumly.
Laying the weapon across his knees, Dan shook his head. “Meaning our young’uns will inherit the problem along with the land.”
“’Fraid so.” If either of us ever has young’uns. But, even if neither of them did, there was Willie to consider, and the children Susan and Sarah and the other cousins might have in the future. “Makes a body wonder if we did all we could to kill it.”
“Don’t see how we could have done more,” was Dan’s somber reply.
Under George’s tutelage, they’d worn damp neckerchiefs over their mouths and noses, and wrapped their horses’ faces with wet rags, too, a feeble precaution they’d hoped would keep the germs from invading, as they’d set fire to the cow corpses, one by one, and let them burn where they lay. The odor had attracted predators from the air and the land, which had necessitated constant patrols to chase them off, lest they feast on the fire-roasted meat and perhaps spread the contaminant far and wide. “True enough, but the question keeps me up nights, all the same,” Josh finally said.
Dan elbowed him playfully. “Something tells me there’s more keeping you awake these days besides dead cows and empty acres.”
Josh gave him a sideways glance, and before he could ask what in the world his cousin was yammering about, Dan said, “That pretty li’l gal you brought home, for starters.”
He stared hard at the horizon, knowing full well that if he gave Dan the chance to read his expression, he could forget about denying his feelings for Dinah. “She was in trouble. I helped her out. End of story.”
“So says you,” Dan said, giving him another playful jab in the ribs.
Squinting, Josh used his chin as a pointer. “That a rattler I see out there?”
Dan attempted to follow Josh’s gaze. “Where?”
“Sunning itself on that rock, yonder.”
Dan squinted, too, then said, “Why, I do believe it is.” Lifting the weapon, he zeroed in on his target. “Say ‘Good-bye, cruel world,’” he whispered before squeezing the trigger. The bullet exploded from the barrel, then whistled through the air and embedded itself in the serpent’s flesh. The diamondback spiraled upward and turned end over end before landing in the powdery dirt. “Well, sir, there’s one less snakebite waiting to happen,” Dan said, calmly returning the gun to his knees. “Now then, as I was saying, when are you planning to propose, if I may ask?”
Maybe if Josh played dumb, Dan would take the hint and change the subject. If he knew what was good for him, he’d come up with an answer that would satisfy his curious cousin—or prepare to hear the question a dozen times between now and their arrival in Laredo.
“Haven’t prayed on it enough yet,” he said truthfully.
“So, you’ve considered it, then.” Dan paused for a quick breath, then exclaimed, “I knew it!”
Yes, Josh had considered it, pictured it, and prayed for it. But he wasn’t foolish enough to admit any of that to Dan. “Hungry?”
“It’ll be dark soon. We can eat when we bunk down for the night.” He took a sip from his canteen and then held it out to Josh. “So, when do you suppose—”
“Tell me, Dan, when was the last time you remember me prying into your personal, private life?”
Dan pretended to count on his fingers, then chuckled. “Never. At least, not that I can recall, at the moment. Let me sleep on it and get back to you in the morning.”
That would do, Josh thought, because soon they’d be far too busy setting up camp to talk about Dinah and his feelings for her, or hers for him. Yet Josh knew that the subject would come up again, as sure as the sun would rise in the morning. “All right, look. I’ll make a deal with you. If you can think of one time when I poked my nose where it didn’t belong, I’ll tolerate one last personal question. One, and that’s it. Do I have your word?”
Dan sat erect and saluted. “Yes, sir. Understood, sir.” He went back to slouching. “Sounds to me like you’re fairly certain I’ll think of a time when you snooped.”
“We’ve known each other all our lives, were raised practically like brothers. I’m sure, if you put your mind to it, you’ll come up with something. In the meantime, can we drop the subject?”
“Like a hot potato.”
And, to give him his due, Dan kept his word. He didn’t mention Dinah as they set up camp, or while they chomped on hard-boiled eggs, or even as they lay in their bedrolls, staring up at the stars. If he had to, Josh would remind Dan about Trisha Storm, the pretty young thing who’d stolen his heart and then ridden off on a train bound for California with a gambling man. Dan had moped around for months, hoping she’d come back to him. When she didn’t, he’d sworn off women forever, using his bum leg as an excuse. On second thought, even if Dan persisted with his inquisition, Josh wouldn’t stoop that low.
“Speaking of eggs….”
Josh groaned inwardly, wondering how in the world his jokester cousin aimed to draw a parallel between eggs, of all things, and his relationship with Dinah. With a mind like Dan’s, the possibilities were endless. Just bide your time, he thought, and you’ll find out soon enough.
“Seems to me we’ll be wise to hatch a plan.”
Josh was almost afraid to ask what he meant. “What sort of plan?”
“What we’ll do on the way back to Eagle Pass, when there’s a full load of bull in the wagon. I mean, what if rustlers decide to jump us, or a wildcat sneaks up to make a meal of beef and boiled eggs?”
“I don’t mind admitting, the thought has been tumbling in my head all day, too.” When he wasn’t thinking about Dinah, that is. “Any suggestions?”
“We’ll swap out driving the team, just like we’ve been doing. And whichever one of us is on guard duty will sit facing backward. That way, between us, we’ll have a panoramic view.”
“Guard duty?” Josh chuckled softly. “You talk like we’re Jim Bowie and Dan’l Boone, defending the Alamo.”
“Let’s hope we do a mite better at surviving than those poor fellows did. Besides, you’ll be laughin’ out of the other side of your mouth if either of us spots something that doesn’t belong out there on the horizon.”
“True enough,” Josh conceded.
“There’s a lot of territory between here and Laredo, between Laredo and home. I’d hate to get halfway back to the Lazy N, only to have some outlaw take what’s rightfully ours.”
Josh nodded. “We won’t give it up without a fight, that’s for sure.”
“Amen.”
“So, if we spot somebody, then what?”
“We shoot first and ask questions later. I can blow the wick off a candle at four hundred yards with this thing.” Dan patted his rifle stock.
“I’ll aim for their gun hands, and if that doesn’t stop ’em, let’s see how effective they are at stealin’ with a round in their shoulders.”
Josh gave the .44-40 Winchester an admiring glance. “Well, like my pa said as we lit out, let’s pray we don’t have cause to use it.”
“Amen,” Dan said again. He crawled out of his bedroll, pulled his Stetson low on his forehead, and, pivoting on his good foot, scanned the area. Then, just for good measure, he cocked the rifle. “I’ll take first watch,” he said, limping to the nearest tree. “You’ve got three hours. If I were you, I’d make the most of ’em.”
It turned out to be a long, restless night. Josh tried sleeping on his left side, but Dan’s pacing drove him to distraction. He tried his right side, but the heat of the fire only made him empathize with the pig George had roasted for the Fourth of July shindig. He tried counting stars, but they reminded him of Dinah’s twinkling, green eyes, which didn’t help him to settle down. And reciting the Lord’s Prayer didn’t work, either, because he kept getting stuck on the “forgive us our debts” line.
Would Dinah ever trust him enough to come clean about her past?
And, if she did, would he be able to cope with the truth? “A man can hope and pray,” he muttered.
“What’s that?”
“Nothin’. And if you want my advice, you’ll quit walking back and forth like a zoo lion. Rest your poor ol’ leg, or it’ll never last three whole hours.”
“Says you.”
“Says me.”
It was a game they’d played since childhood, but instead of smiling the good-natured grin it usually inspired, Josh felt annoyed. Surly. Old and grumpy. When Dan didn’t counter with a teasing barb, as he usually did, Josh closed his eyes and prayed for an hour of slumber, even if it was fitful and interrupted.
34
Oh, yes, I most certainly did receive your telegram.” The widow grabbed Josh’s hand and pumped his arm as if she expected water to trickle from his fingertips. “You’re the answer to an old woman’s prayer, I tell you! Would you believe you’re the one and only offer I’ve had on Charlie?”
Over her shoulder, Josh eyed the big Angus in a pen.
“Is that Charlie?” Dan asked.
The bull lowered his head and snorted menacingly. “Yes, and isn’t he just the biggest, most spirited animal you’ve had the pleasure of laying your eyes on?”
Beulah Reynolds’s laughter was more a grating cackle, but it was contagious, and the cousins couldn’t help but smile.
“How many calves has he sired?” Josh wanted to know.
“Only a few dozen. But he’s barely three, so he has a long life ahead of him.”
“How much do you want for him?”
Beulah blushed. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly let you take him for less than four hundred dollars.”
Josh and Dan exchanged a surprised glance, and she evidently took it to mean the price was too high. “I know that’s steep, times being hard these days and all, but I have outstanding bills all over town, and that’s how much it’ll take to clear them up.”
“Four hundred is more than fair, Mrs. Reynolds. And we’ve got cash.”
“Oh, you really are the answer to my prayers!” she gushed. “Can I get you anything before you load him up?”
Dan nodded. “Just a bill of sale.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” she chanted. “I’m afraid I never learned to read or write. My Gideon, he used to handle things like this, you see—”
Josh held up a hand. “It’s not a problem. Dan, here, can write it up for you while your men help me load Charlie onto the wagon. Then, we’ll find somebody you trust to read and witness the document.”
“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest boys ever? Makes me wish Gideon and I had a couple of sons of our own. The Lord never saw fit to bless us with children, I’m afraid.”
So, she was totally alone, now that her husband had passed. Josh found himself wondering what Dinah would have to say about that. Instantly, he pictured the look of pity that would no doubt flicker across her pretty face as she eyed the widow’s faded dress and tattered apron, and he decided to add fifty dollars to the pot. His family had been hit hard by recent events, but they were a long sight better off than this poor old widow. And besides, they’d still have two hundred and fifty more than they’d expected to take home after this deal had been cut. What would Dinah think of that?
It was a good thing they’d had the foresight to bring along plenty of sturdy rope. Dan had used thick boards to build the wagon’s tall, narrow sides, but if they didn’t tie Charlie up inside them good and tight, he’d blast through the barrier as easily as a knife slices through butter. It would be a long trek back to Eagle Pass, and their mules weren’t suited to chasing an angry bull across the prairie.
Charlie was none too happy about his cart-and-buggy confinement, and he made his feelings known with discontented snorts and grunts. Beulah brought out a burlap sack to put over his head, saying, “He’ll be safer—and so will you handsome cowboys—if he can’t see what’s going on.” She stood on a rail and deftly slid it over his horns. “You can take it off when you stop for the night, but I don’t advise traveling without it.”
“Thanks,” Josh said. “Now then, soon as we get that bill of sale signed, we can pay you and be on our way. Any suggestions who might witness it for you?”
“The sheriff is a right nice young fellow,” she said. “The jailhouse is just over that next rise. I’ll follow you in the buckboard.”
Half an hour later, they were standing in the office of Sheriff Arthur Tate, who sat at his big, walnut desk and squinted through his tiny spectacles. “On this thirtieth day of July, 1888,” he read aloud, “Beulah Reynolds of Laredo sold an Angus bull named Charlie to Josh and Daniel Neville of Eagle Pass for the sum of four hundred and fifty dollars. Witnessed by….” He peered over his glasses. “They’s four blank lines drawed here.”
“One for Mrs. Reynolds,” Josh explained, “one each for Dan and me, and one for you.”
“But, young man,” Beulah spoke up, “you’ve made a mistake. We agreed on four hundred, not four fifty.”
“Charlie’s worth the price,” Josh said, signing on the line. He handed the pen to Dan, who scribbled his name under Josh’s. “Your mark goes here, Mrs. Reynolds,” he added, pointing to the appropriate line.
Once she’d drawn her X, the sheriff wrote “Arthur B. Tate” with more curlicues and squiggles than Josh had ever seen in a signature.
While the sheriff blew the ink dry, Josh handed the widow her money. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, ma’am.”
“Oh, Josh Neville,” she said, counting the bills, “I assure you, the pleasure’s all mine.”
“What’s that?” growled a gruff voice from the back room. “Did I hear right? Is there a Josh Neville out there?”
Frowning, Dan whispered to Tate, “Who’s that?”
“Leo Broderick,” the sheriff said, shaking his head. “Man rode into town leading a whole circus of charlatans and thieves, tryin’ to pawn off liniments and potions and some bogus concoction called ‘Lydia E. Pinkham’s Herb Medicine.’”
“Since when is it against the law to sell herbal remedies?” shouted Leo.
“When it makes people sick enough to almost kill ’em, that’s when,” Tate retorted.
“Josh,” Leo yelled, “vouch for me, old friend. Tell him how we shared a dormitory room at the Yale School of Law!”
Josh couldn’t believe his ears. Not that Leo Broderick, sitting in the Laredo jail for selling…potions? “Mind if I go back there, see if he really is who he claims to be?”
“Well, all right, but take care to stand clear of the bars, or he’ll have your watch and your wallet and whatever else you might’ve stowed in your pockets, all before you can say howdy.” Tate narrowed his eyes to add, “The man’s a quack. Slipperiest snake-oil salesman I’ve ever come across, and I’ve seen
my share, especially since the confounded Missouri-Pacific laid down tracks.”
“Speaking of tracks,” Dan said, walking alongside Josh, “we really ought to make some. We can’t keep Charlie tied up with his head in a sack any longer than necessary. It just ain’t right.”
“If that really is the Leo Broderick I went to school with, this won’t take long,” Josh said, frowning at the memory. “I’ll just have a word with the man, and then we’ll be on our way.”
He left his concerned cousin in the sheriff’s office and headed for the back room, where he found Leo in the middle cell, clinging to the bars like a monkey at the zoo. “Well, if this don’t beat all,” Leo said, grinning. “Josh Owns-Half-of-Texas Neville, in the flesh.”
Josh ignored the loathsome taunt, just as he had done during their college days. “Leo. What sort of mischief put you in a Texas jail cell?”
“Trumped up charges, that’s what, made by that Wish-I-Was-a-Sheriff boor out there.” Leo poked his right hand through the bars. “So, how’ve you been, friend?”
“Well, since I’m the one standing on this side of the bars,” he teased, shaking Leo’s hand, “I’d have to say I’m a good sight better than you.” It surprised Josh to see how much Leo had aged, and a surge of guilt coursed through him. “What’s Tate charging you with?”
“My memorization skills are as bad now as they were in school, so I couldn’t recite the list if I tried, but I’m happy to give it a try.” Squinting up at the ceiling, he began counting on his fingers. “Operating a flea circus without a license, selling medicine without a medical degree, charging the good folks of Laredo to step up and take a peek at my freak show….”
If he didn’t know better, Josh would have said Leo sounded proud of himself! “Flea circus? Leo, you were top of our class, before—” He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he’d been a big part of the reason Leo had left Yale without graduating.
“Why work hard when you can work smart?” Leo said with a shrug. He nodded, indicating Josh’s hands, then held up his own, as if to prove his point. “See? No calluses here.”
