Do-si-do

by Dorothy A. Bell

Impervious, McDaniel didn’t look up from his saddle bag. Buck didn’t think McDaniel heard the sound. At least Buck hoped he hadn’t. It sounded like a cast-iron skillet cracking a melon, or maybe, could it be? Foote’s head?

  Clearing his throat, McDaniel waved a sheaf of papers above his head. “I have here a copy of your mortgage, Mr. Buxton. You are falling behind in your payments. One more missed installment and you will be in default of your loan. Rather than allow the bank foreclose, I’m here to make you a generous offer of twenty thousand dollars for the house, outbuildings, the hot spring, and the easement through the canyon. I have no use for the grazing land or the cattle. With the twenty thousand, you may rebuild elsewhere.” He waved his hand dismissively toward the east. “This property has potential, potential you, Mr. Buxton, will never achieve. I am a man of vision, Mr. Buxton. It will take a man of vision to create the greatest health spa on this side of the Rocky Mountains.”

  Buck stood unmoved. McDaniel continued. “I am aware you have your reasons to hang on to this property…the canyon road…sentimental reasons. Once I blast the worthless boulder to bits, your sentiments will no longer keep you hanging on. I have with me the dynamite to take care of it today. Unfortunately, young Norquist failed in his attempt. I hoped the matter of the damn boulder would be taken care of by now. I went to a lot of bother to switch those instructions. I felt certain of my success. But then, don’t you often find if you want a job done right, you should do it yourself, Mr. Buxton?”

  Buck pressed his lips together to keep from shouting cuss words. If he had to keep quiet much longer, he thought his jaw might break.

  “As for you, Mr. Bollo, I understand you are a silent partner with Norquist and Son Enterprises. I have my eye on one of your holdings called, of all things serendipitous, The Winning Hand Mine. I’ve investigated the mine-site, and I’m assured it has promise. I want your mine, Mr. Bollo. I have yet to convince Mr. Norquist to sell it to me—he wouldn’t even discuss details. Perhaps now, now we have all the interested parties gathered up, he will see the benefit of signing the deed of sale today. I’m counting on you to wield your influence, Mr. Bollo. I abhor violence.”

  Buck had heard enough. “Get off my property,” he managed to say through his clenched teeth. “It is still my property. Get off. Take your thugs and get.”

  McDaniel smiled and drew back his lips, his piggy eyes narrowing. “I advise you not to be hasty. I am aware there are family members absent, you see, namely your daughter, Mr. Buxton. And Mr. Bollo, it is a stroke of luck, a bonus, if you will, we have your daughter as well. Young Norquist informed me, you see. At first, I was not pleased, but upon reflection, I see it now as an extraordinary stroke of luck. Your sons, Mr. Buxton, no doubt tried their best to locate the fair damsels, but I feel confident you will want my assistance to bring them home safe and sound.

  “And, lest you forget, I have your ladies secure inside your home, Mr. Buxton. Foote will release them, and I will see to it your daughters are returned as soon as you sign these documents.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gabe and Van were on foot, leading their horses. They crossed the pasture with the girls a few paces behind. The last hour or two had turned into a hard push. All of them were feeling the heat of midday, hungry and tired. About three miles back, Gabe started to second-guess himself, wondering if he’d made the right decision when he insisted they stick to the creek bed, forsaking the well-worn cattle trail through the canyon. He’d come this way thinking at least they’d have water for their horses down here in the bottom, but it had taken them longer to reach the hot spring, having to circumvent the mesas and jump the creek back and forth.

  The barn in sight, he said over his shoulder to Jo, “You and Birdie can go on in the house. Let Dad know you’re both safe. Van and I’ll see to the horses.” He reached the corral gate and swung it open to let the girls go ahead, taking their horses’ reins as they passed.

  »»•««

  The barn door to the corral stood partly open, and Birdie slipped inside. She stopped to absorb the coolness of the interior, mopping her face with the fabric of her dirty skirt. Jo staggered over to a nearby block of wood and sat down in a huff of exhaustion.

  Once her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the barn’s interior and hearing voices, Birdie made her way to opposite end of the barn to see what all the commotion was about. Buck yelled at someone to get. Birdie peeked out the door through a knothole.

  Jo started to push the barn door open, but Birdie thrust out her hand to stop her. She put her finger to her lips and then pulled Jo away from the door. She whispered, “You know any of those men out there?”

  “I don’t know. You pulled me back too soon—I didn’t get a good look.”

  “Well, go look,” Birdie said, her voice low. “But don’t open the door, or let anyone see you looking.”

  Jo shrugged her shoulders and did as suggested. She stood bent over, looking out the knothole for a long moment. Both of them listened to the muted voices, catching words from time to time but unable to make sense of any of it.

  They both pulled away from the door. Birdie waved her hand, and they made their way back toward the opened door to the corral at the opposite end. “I don’t recognize any of the men in the black coats or the one with the red coat,” Jo said, her voice a whisper. “Did you see Mr. Norquist? He looks all beat up.”

  “No, I missed that,” Birdie said. “Who do you suppose they are? And why are Daddy and Buck standing there looking like two thunderclouds?”

  Van came in from the corral with an armload of tack. He stopped when he saw they hadn’t gone in the house. “What’s going on?” he asked in too loud of a voice.

  Birdie shoved him back out the door. “Shhhh, Van. Keep your voice down. Something’s going on out in the yard—strangers are out there, and they don’t look friendly. Jo says Mr. Norquist looks beat up, and Daddy and Buck don’t look too pleased. I heard Buck tell someone to get.”

  »»•««

  Gabe overheard the conversation. He tossed the tack over a stall rail and said to the girls, “Both of you stay back. Van and I’ll go have a look.”

  Not surprisingly, neither Birdie nor Jo obeyed him, and they all trooped forward. By means of various cracks and knotholes in the barn, they all watched and listened to the drama taking place in the yard before the house.

  Gabe heard the man in the red coat loud and clear when he threatened to blow up Petra’s boulder. “Over my dead body,” he said, his lips against the rough plank of barn siding.

  He didn’t need to hear anything more. Van and Jo followed him back to the opened barn door of the corral. Pacing back and forth, thoughts scattered, he scrubbed the back of his neck.

  “What can we do?” Van asked.

  Gabe stopped in front of the barn door to the corral. “Who the hell is that bastard? What makes him think he can come here and make threats? Why the hell should he want to blow up Petra’s boulder? I don’t get it.”

  Birdie skipped up to him and tugged on his shirtsleeve. “You left too soon. The red coat is blackmailing Buck into selling the hot spring, and Daddy into one of his mining interests in Norquist Enterprises. He’s holding Mother, and probably Edditha and Adella, hostages inside the house. And, he thinks he’s got Jo and me.”

  “You heard all of that?” Van asked.

  “Yeah, I did. Well, he didn’t call Jo and me by name, he said daughters. We have to do something.”

  “Divide and conquer,” Jo said.

  Gabe shook his head. “No.”

  “Yes,” Birdie said, hoping from one foot to the other, arms waving, dismissing his objection. “When they go off to blast Petra’s boulder, you and Van follow them and see to it they don’t get a chance to set the dynamite. Jo and I’ll make our way inside the house.”

  Gabe couldn’t stop shaking his head. “How do you purpose to do that? And how in the hell are Van and I going to stop them from setting charges under Petra’s boulder?”

&n
bsp; “Well, I think it could work,” Jo said. “If two men go off to blast Petra’s boulder and the redcoat and the other henchman go inside with Dad and Rafe, we can make a dash for the back stoop.”

  “Then what?” Van asked her. “What are you going to do then, Jo?”

  Gabe stopped shaking his head. The plan had begun to sound plausible. “It’s not a bad idea, Van. Dad has a couple of guns back in the tack room. There might be a revolver in there. The girls are home safe, so they’ve lost one piece of leverage. Dad and Rafe don’t know it yet.”

  “Stopping them from setting charges in the canyon might be tricky,” Birdie said, a frown on her lips. Her brows knit together.

  “We don’t have time to stand around debating,” Gabe said. “We’ll take the shotguns. Jo, you and Birdie take the revolver, if there is one. I know there’s shells for the shotgun, but I don’t know if there are any bullets for the revolver.”

  “I’ll go see what I can find,” said Van. Jo followed on his heels.

  Birdie laid her hand on his arm. “I love you, Gabe. Don’t get shot.”

  His hand going to the side of her face, he returned her intense gaze. “Birdie-Alice Bollo, I love you, don’t you get shot either. I mean it, Birdie, don’t take chances. For once, play it safe. I’m going to be very, very careful, now that I know what I want. I want to live to spend my life making love to you.”

  “I promise, I’ll be good,” she said and pressed her lips into the palm of his hand.

  Van reappeared, carrying two shotguns and the revolver. “Dad keeps these in good working order, all oiled up and ready. But we only have three shotgun shells and two bullets for the revolver. I know Dad keeps more ammunition in the house, but this is all we’ve got out here.”

  ”Jo, the revolver should work properly, although I don’t know when he last shot anything with it.”

  “Listen,” Jo said. They all heard riders leaving the yard.

  “We better get going. You two be careful,” Gabe said, giving his sister a bus on the cheek.

  »»•««

  “I’m done talking,” McDaniel said.

  Buck hadn’t felt this helpless in a long time. “You son-of-a-bitch, you set charges under the boulder and I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

  “Take care of it, men,” McDaniel said without a smile, waving two of his men to saddle up. “I doubt it, Mr. Buxton.”

  Buck didn’t think. He simply leaped off the porch going for McDaniel’s throat.

  »»•««

  All hell broke loose. Birdie couldn’t take it all in. Her heart jumped into her throat when her Daddy charged the thug with the gun. The gun went off, and the shot planted itself in the porch post, splinters of wood flying. Cornell rushed forward and kicked the gun out of the man’s grasp. Simultaneously, the screen door flew open and the women appeared, all of them with blood in their eye and ready to do battle. Her mother wielded a broom, Edditha had a mop, and Adella held an iron skillet above her head, looking to pound somebody’s pate into the ground.

  The women, screaming war-cries, charged down the steps. Doreen swatted the thug Birdie’s daddy had taken on. Adella and Edditha made short work of the one of the black coats. Cornell landed a few good kicks to the head of the redcoat Buck pinned to the ground and then turned to kick the man in the black coat for good measure.

  By the time Birdie and Jo made it to the center of the action, all the varmints were subdued.

  »»•««

  Buck rolled off the unconscious red coat onto his knees. He grunted and painfully got to his feet. He dusted off his arms and looked up to see Jo rushing toward him.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” His arms closed around her. He swung her off her feet.

  While twirling Jo around, he caught a glimpse of Birdie. She flew into Doreen’s arms, Rafe joining them in the reunion.

  “Van and Gabe found us,” Jo said between sobs.

  “Where? How?”

  Birdie, clinging to Doreen with her head against Rafe’s chest, swiped the tears from her dusty cheeks. “Gabe…Gabe and Van, they’ve gone to stop them from blowing up Petra’s boulder.”

  “The hell they have,” Buck said, setting Jo on her feet. “Rafe?”

  “Let’s go,” Rafe said.

  Buck nodded to Cornell. “We’ll leave you and Nils, and the ladies, to tidy up the yard.” He gave Jo a buss on the forehead and then set off for the barn.

  Rafe fell in step beside him. Birdie skipped to keep up, saying over her shoulder to everyone, “I’ll get the rope. We’ll lash them to the porch rail.”

  Inside the barn, Buck handed Birdie two coils of hemp. She gave Rafe a quick buss on the cheek and disappeared back out into the yard. As they saddled up, Rafe said aloud what Buck feared most. “I don’t think we can catch up with them, Buck. They got a head start. Van and Gabe will have to climb up the mesa. They might get up there before the men can climb up the side of the canyon to set the charges. It might be possible.”

  Buck led his mount to the barn door and mounted. Rafe did likewise. “I don’t give a damn about the boulder right now. It’s Van and Gabe. They could get blown to bits up there if those peckerwoods set those charges. I’ve thought about Petra’s boulder a lot. It’s granite. There’s not a lot of granite around here, most of the rock in the canyon is basalt, mudstone, or shale. That boulder could be the keystone to bringing down the whole east rim of the canyon for all I know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Coming up the side of the mesa wasn’t easy on horseback. There were places on the cow track where their mounts had to go practically straight up. The last time he’d been up here, he’d been searching for a stray cow and her newborn calf in a rain storm. Petra’s boulder sat about a hundred feet below the edge of the mesa in a slide area. A cow or a calf could slip in the scree, become stranded, and be unable to climb back up to the top of the mesa and the grass it offered.

  Today, he hoped they could get to the slide above the boulder before the two bastards with their dynamite. If they made it first, with a perfect view of the road below from the edge, they’d have a chance to stop them blasting Petra’s boulder.

  Once up on top, Gabe and Van spurred their mounts to the west, staying away from the edge until they reached the slide. They both jumped from the saddle. “Keep low, Van,” Gabe said. “It’s been a while since I’ve shot anything. I hope to hell I remember what to do.”

  Crouched low, Van kept pace as they made their way over to the edge of the canyon. “What the hell are we gonna do once we see the bastards? I’m not keen on killing a man,” Van said.

  Once his feet hit the scree, Gabe got down on his belly and crawled to the edge. He dug his elbows in the gravel, and Van was right beside him doing the same.

  Below them, two men stood beside their horses, rummaging through their saddlebags.

  “We have to do something,” Gabe said, more or less to himself.

  “Well, we better make up our minds, ’cause we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Yeah, I know. We could spook their horses?”

  “I like it,” Van said. “But we better do it now, before they get the dynamite and charges out of those bags.”

  “I’ll aim for the ground in front—you aim for the rear. If I miss, fire off the next round.”

  “Right.”

  They lobbed their volleys off at the same time. Dust and rock shot up in front of and behind the horses. The horses reared, bucked, and took off up the canyon road, the two men running after them shouting and cursing.

  Gabe got to his feet and looked off toward the hot spring. Van shouted a victory whoop, waving his gun his overhead. “Look, Van, there, I think Dad and Rafe are coming up the road.”

  “Should we try to get down off here to help them round up those two men?”

  Gabe glanced up the canyon road. Both men stopped chasing their horses, apparently winded, now doubled over, arms braced on their knees, heads down.

  “We’ll st
ay up here. I’d say Dad and Rafe can take it from here. I wonder what happened back at the house? How the hell did they manage to get away to come up here?”

  “With two men gone, the odds evened up a bit, I guess,” Van said.

  Gabe laughed and slapped his brother on the shoulder. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  Gabe waved to Buck and Buck waved back. He and Rafe spurred their mounts, taking off up the road to apprehend the would-be blasters. Buck threw a rope around one of the men, and Rafe jumped down off his horse and slugged the other one.

  Van shouted out a war whoop.

  “I guess that takes care of it,” Gabe said and waved his hat over his head. He stood a bit too close to the edge, and his foot slipped in the scree.

  Van caught his arm. “I’m hungry.”

  Gabe laughed and righted himself and then headed over to his horse. “I’d like to find out why those men wanted to blast Petra’s boulder. I’ve got a lot of questions. For one, I’d like to know what’s going on between Edditha and Cornell.”

  Van laughed and mounted up. “So you’re jealous after all?”

  “Not jealous,” Gabe said, swinging up into the saddle and taking up the reins. “I’m curious.”

  “Like hell. Come on, Gabe you gotta be a little jealous.”

  Kicking his heels into his mount’s ribcage and taking off at an easy trot, Gabe said, “Birdie’s got me all confused, that’s all. I admit it. I can’t wait to find out who the hell those men were. And what the hell they wanted. I really want to know whose idea it was to snatch Birdie and Jo and toss them into the mine.

  Head tipped to the side, he shrugged. “And yeah, I want to know what Cornell’s up to with Edditha. He better not be playing some sort of game with her. I’ll have to forsake my vow never to resort to physical violence and knock some of his pretty teeth down his throat. Edditha’s not the kind of girl a fella can play fast and loose with.”

  “Well, big brother,” Van said, drawing his mount alongside him. “As an observer, it appears to me you’ve got one set of rules for Cornell and another for yourself.”