“Eva, men are not as stupid as women think we are.”
Oh, my! I wonder if I misjudged him about not observing Marian’s flirtatious behavior and the admiring glances Frank gave me, Eva thought.
Alex was standing on the porch and heard everything they said. He didn’t want them to know he overheard, so he quietly stepped off the porch and then stepped back on, stomping his feet as though he was just arriving and was cleaning his boots. Then he walked into the house.
“Mom,” he said, “I’m sorry I missed breakfast. Did you save some for me?”
While Eva was reheating his food, Alex told Vard what his Indian friends had learned about the two snipers and about the spy who had told the snipers where to wait for their ambush.
“Father,” Alex said, “the threat against your life is serious. From now on I’ll ride with you wherever you go. We’ll have to rely upon Gray Wolf and Soaring Eagle to keep us advised as to the whereabouts of the snipers.”
“As a pair, we stand a better chance of surviving, so I welcome your company,” Vard said. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I’m the father, and I’m supposed to protect you.”
“You’re a good father, and you’ve always protected me. My skill with guns is because you trained me. I’ll use what you taught me to protect both of us.”
Eva came to the table with his breakfast, and because Talking Drum had helped put his mind at ease concerning Cindy, Alex was surprised at how hungry he was.
“After you’ve eaten,” Vard said, “we’ll ride to the ranch. I want to look at the cattle, and then we’ll go into Timberland to hire laborers to do the farm work that we no longer have the time or the need to do. Marl wants to hire laborers to do his work also, and he may want to ride with us. I’ll walk next door and talk to him while you finish your breakfast. Do you want me to give Cindy a message?”
“No, we talked last night, and we said about everything we had to say.”
Eva's heart went out to Alex, and she wanted to hold him as she had when he was a child. She wanted to tell him that she understood, but how could she? She didn’t understand either. Her fear for her son and her husband was like a gnawing thing. She couldn’t protect them; all she could do was hope. They were both capable men, and they would understand her fear, but it wouldn’t be helpful.
Chapter 10
The Nalor home was close by, so Vard returned right away.
“No one was home. I guess they went into town without telling us. I wonder why. It’s not like them.”
I think I know, Eva thought.
Alex had his own thoughts about why they were not at home. Cindy either doesn’t want to face me or she’s eager to see Raphe—I wonder which.
It seemed odd. They owned their land now, and they had all the money they could spend, but the warm, casual banter that usually accompanied their meals was gone. A strain and a sense of hidden meanings were attached to everything they said. Quick glances through lowered eyelids accompanied each comment, as though the person hearing might attach a meaning other than what was intended. Alex had always enjoyed their talks, but now he wanted to get the meal over with and escape into the seclusion of his mind.
Eva stood on the porch and watched as Vard and Alex rode away, wondering if she would ever see them alive again. She almost resented the thoughts of Frank that kept creeping into her subconscious mind. Why am I thinking of him? I have a wonderful husband who loves me, and I love him. I have a son any woman would be proud of, and my son is faced with a life-and-death struggle at a time when his mind is troubled by a girl who has betrayed him—and for whom, a rascal! Raphe is a handsome rascal, but still a rascal. My son is in love with a girl who has been smitten, and that rascal is the only man who can fill her need.
Eva, too, had experienced her first time with an exciting man long ago, and she hoped that Cindy’s lover hadn’t planted a seed in her that would result in an unwanted pregnancy, like her lover had planted in her.
* * *
After Vard and Alex had ridden for about an hour, Gray Wolf appeared beside the trail.
“The back shooters are waiting,” Gray Wolf said. “They’re good at what they do. You cannot see their hiding place as you are approaching, but they can see your backs clearly after you pass. They don’t know that we have seen them, so they will not expect someone to turn the tables on them by shooting them in the back. Soaring Eagle is watching to make sure they don’t move or change their minds. If they move, we will follow their trail.”
Alex turned to look at his father. “Father, ride slowly, and when you see my saddlebags on the trail, stop. Gray Wolf and I will do what has to be done. When we’re done, I’ll come for you.”
“I’ll go with you,” Vard said. “I can carry my end of this load.”
“I know you want to help,” Gray Wolf said, “but you can help more by stopping on the trail beside the saddlebags. Two men can move quieter than three.”
Vard nodded and said, “I’ll cover you from this end.”
After riding through dusty brush for about fifteen minutes, Gray Wolf pointed at the trail and said, “Here!”
Alex placed his saddlebags where he knew his father would see them and then followed Gray Wolf at a cautious pace through the mesquite.
Gray Wolf tied the reins of his horse to a mesquite and motioned for Alex to do the same. After walking a short distance, Gray Wolf touched Alex on the arm and pointed to two tethered horses.
At first, Alex saw nothing unusual. Gray Wolf pointed again. “There, in that draw by the trail.”
Alex saw two men, waiting with rifles ready. They were watching the trail that he and his father would have been riding if Gray Wolf hadn’t stopped them. his Indian friends had saved his and his father’s lives.
“Shoot!” Gray Wolf urged, looking first at the snipers and then at Alex.
Alex shook his head. “I can’t shoot a man in the back,” he whispered. “Not even an assassin.”
“Why! They’re waiting to shoot you in the back.”
“That’s why I can’t shoot them—I’m not like them.” Then he handed his rifle to Gray Wolf. “I’m sure to kill one of them, but if I fail to kill them both, and the other one kills me, shoot the one left standing and then place the rifle in my dead hands to make it look like I shot him. We don’t want to start a war.”
Gray Wolf understood and nodded slowly.
Alex walked quietly until he was only a few paces from the snipers. Then he called out, “I’m here!”
Startled, they turned as one, both firing in haste, and they both missed.
Alex drew and fired two shots. The snipers lay dead where they had waited to kill.
* * *
Vard heard the shots and came riding his horse at full run. Soaring Eagle emerged from the brush and contemptuously turned the would-be killers over with his moccasin to make sure they were dead. Then he turned to Alex and said, “You and Gray Wolf are great warriors.” Gray Wolf nodded solemnly, and the two scouts silently rode away.
Vard had never doubted his son’s courage or his ability. His chest swelled with pride as he hugged Alex for the first time since Alex had become a man.
Alex helped Vard tie the snipers to their saddles, slapped the horses on the rump, and watched them run to the Flying W carrying their grisly cargo. Alex had ended the snipers’ career of killing, and now they were being returned to the man who had hired them. Alex and Vard hoped Herv Hamlin would ride away. Little did they know that Hank Tyler had covered his bet by hiring two more gunslingers, just in case the back shooters failed.
* * *
When Vard and Alex got to the Bar H, the Nalor wagon was in the yard and the horses were in the corral eating hay. Vard knew that something wasn’t right, and not wanting to embarrass anyone, he suggested to Alex that they ride on to Cripple Creek to do the exploring they had come to do. But before they could leave, Fadden came to the door, smoking his cigarette and buttoning his pants.
“Mr. Vanor!
I didn’t expect you today,” he stammered.
“That’s obvious,” Vard said. “Is Marl Nalor visiting you?”
“No, ahh . . .” he was searching for the right words. “Mrs. Nalor is here. She and Cindy are visiting for a few minutes. They were on their way to town when a hub bolt on their wagon wheel came loose, and they stopped to get it tightened. Marl rode his saddle horse on into Timberland. Would you like to talk to Mrs. Nalor? Cindy went for a ride with Raphe. I don’t know where they went, but I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Mrs. Nalor and I were having lunch. Would you like to join us?”
“Were you having lunch with your pants unbuttoned?” Vard asked with a wry grin.
Seeing that his charade was not being believed, Frank said, “Vard, neither Marian nor Cindy are here at my invitation. I’m sorry that I tried to deceive you.”
“No apology necessary. I’m sure both women are here because they choose to be here, and you’re only doing what they want you to do, so good day. I’ll see you tomorrow when you’re less occupied.”
As they were leaving, Vard asked Alex, “Would you like to have a look in the barn?”
“No!” Alex quickly replied, shaking his head. “I know Cindy’s in there, and I know who she’s with, and why.”
“I’m sorry, son, I know this is painful. The shock will pass, but the pain will linger for a time, and then it, too, will fade. Don’t blame yourself. You did the right thing. I think Cindy is reacting to the shock of two men forcing their way with her. She was only a girl, and the rapist made her aware of a part of herself she had never known. She knows now that she has power over men. She’s beautiful, and men want her. She’s filling Raphe’s needs while she fills a need of her own. There’s nothing you can do about it. You aren’t failing Cindy, she’s failing herself, but she can’t help it.”
Vard wiped the dust from his face with his bandanna. “Don’t judge Cindy too harshly. Someday she’ll realize that there are things more important than getting even with Tor by proving that she’s still worthy of the attention of an attractive lover. When she makes that discovery, she’ll probably come back to you. It takes a strong man to swallow his pride, forget the pain, forgive the wrong, and then fill the needs of the woman he loves. Only you can decide if you love her enough to do it, and no man will blame you if you choose to walk away.”
Alex turned to his father with a new appreciation. “Father, the Ute say Talking Drum is the wisest man who ever lived. I talked to him this morning. He’s wise, but I think you’re wiser.”
“Thank you, son, we’re lucky to be alive, and without the help of Soaring Eagle and Gray Wolf, we wouldn’t be. Let’s go into Timberland and check on Marl. I think he’s feeling some pain also, and he needs a friend.”
As they were riding away, Alex couldn’t resist glancing at the hayloft door. As he had guessed, Cindy and Raphe were in the hayloft and had been there for more than an hour.
* * *
To Cindy, Raphe was as exciting as ever. She loved the way his muscles rippled against her. he made her feel wanted again, and that gave her pleasures that she never dreamed were possible. She heard Alex and Vard riding past and looked at them through the cracks in the upright boards of the hayloft. She didn’t know where they were going, and she didn’t care. Raphe loved her, and she needed his love to help get over her feelings of humiliation and guilt. She hated Tor and she was glad Alex killed him, but she couldn’t avoid wondering if her months of secretly wanting a man had contributed to her being raped. She had wanted Alex to make love to her, but he had refused, and she didn’t know why.
* * *
Timberland was a one-street western town. The dusty street was crowded with farmers loading their wagons while their wives, dressed in their long, full gowns, with matching gloves and hats, walked along the elevated sidewalks looking into shop windows, occasionally stopping to examine something that caught their eye.
The farmers knew Vard and Alex, and they waved a greeting as they rode by. Alex was a phenomenon, and everyone looked at him as a man for the first time. They stopped at the Trail’s end Saloon and hitched their horses to the rail. Alex was tall, even for a man in a town full of tall men. he walked proudly, as a man should, but there was no swagger to his walk as might have been expected of a man with his reputation. Older women looked directly at him with an air of indignation. Younger women looked at him flirtatiously but with calculating eyes. All women were a mystery to Alex. When they smiled, he nodded and tipped his hat, but he avoided conversation. Women could see he was shy, and they liked him better for it.
Alex saw Marl Nalor’s horse tied to the rail in front of the saloon and nudged his father. Vard’s nod indicated that he recognized the horse. They walked into the smoke-filled saloon and looked at the bar where Marl usually did his drinking, but Marl wasn’t at the bar today. he had money now, so he was sitting at a table surrounded by men he was buying drinks for. Marl was a man of medium height, well-built and strong. He had brown hair and blue eyes. His western wear was new and of the very best quality. His clothes were the only thing about him that stood out. He owned a nickel-plated revolver that was also new, but no one took it seriously.
Marl was no fool. When people asked him where he got his money, he gave them the flip answer, “I found it.” The odd thing about his flip answer was that it was true, but nobody believed him.
Vard was a man of dignity. One look and you knew that he was a man to be respected. Like his son, he was tall, his hair was dark brown, but he had the blue-gray eyes of his Scottish ancestors. Nothing about Vard was showy. His clothes were casual, and he wore an old revolver in a worn holster. A leather vest covered his wool, plaid shirt. His pant legs were tucked into high-topped riding boots. Everyone knew that he had money, but no one asked him where he got it.
* * *
Two hangers-on got up from Marl’s table as Vard and Alex approached. Everybody had heard that Hank Tyler had hired Herv Hamlin to kill Vard, and they knew that Hamlin had to get past Alex to get to Vard. Not that Vard needed that much help. He had done very well when he went against the gunmen at the Bar H. he had taught Alex to use a gun, and everyone knew that Alex was a marvel. The bets were about even on who was faster, Herv or Alex.
Neither Vard nor Alex had ever heard of Hamlin until Frank told them of his unsavory practice of having his victims shot in the back from ambush. Hamlin’s back shooters were dead now, and hank Taylor was probably refusing to pay Herv until he completed the job.
Herv Hamlin dressed in fancy clothes; his Colt revolvers had pearl handles, with twenty-two notches carved in them for the twenty-two men he claimed to have beaten to the draw.
The word was out that Vard and Alex were at the saloon talking to Marl Nalor. This was also where Hank and Herv did their drinking, and they were expected soon.
“Alex doesn’t drink,” said the man.
“Hell,” another man said, “he isn’t old enough to drink, but no bartender in town would question his age if he asked for one.”
The Trail’s End was filling with men who wanted to see the contest, and they were hoping Alex could beat Herv, although Herv had the reputation of being the meanest and fastest gun alive. Everybody remembered Alex as a boy playing on the streets with Cindy while their parents shopped. They were lovable kids, and everyone liked them. Alex still had a ready smile, but he wasn’t a kid anymore.
Marl looked up at Vard. “Sit down,” he said, “and I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Sure, I’ll drink with you,” Vard replied. “Alex, what’ll you have?”
“I’ll have tonic water, if the bartender has any.”
“We hadn’t seen you since yesterday,” Vard said to Marl, “and we were wondering if you’d like to ride home with us.”
“Nah, I’ve rented a room in the hotel. I’ll stay here.”
“Will Marian and Cindy be staying here with you?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
Vard knew Marl did care, but
Vard understood. “We’ve been neighbors for a long time; we’ll miss you.”
Marl took another swig of his whiskey. “Yeah, things sure have changed since we found that damn gold. It’s as though it had a curse on it.”
“Yeah, some things have gone bad, but money has no conscience. What are you going to do with your farm?” Vard asked.
“I’ll keep the farm, but I don’t need it anymore. Everything I need is here in town, and I got the money to pay for it, so why not?” he turned to face Vard. “I hear that the owner of the Flying W is gunning for you. What are you going to do about that?”
“We dealt with part of that problem today. Alex killed two men waiting in ambush. We thought maybe we’d finish the job tomorrow.”
“You may have to finish it tonight. This is where the men of the Flying W do their drinking, and I hear that Herv Hamlin will be drinking with them tonight.”
“What do you think, Alex, shall we go home now?” Vard asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“It’s too late to go home. We’ve got to put an end to this sometime, so if they come in, I say we finish it here and now.” He looked at Vard. “I’ve always taken your advice. What do you say?”
Legend of the Lost Page 11
