Savage Country

by William W. Johnstone

  Frank smiled. “Just about. Often enough that I’ve gotten used to it anyway.”

  Rebel said, “It’s not an easy life, is it?”

  “Having a reputation with a gun, you mean?” Frank shook his head. “No, it’s not, but I reckon it’s not the worst life in the world either. Whatever a man does, there’ll be good things and bad about it. I never set out to be known as a gunfighter, but that was where circumstances took me and it’s too late to change now.”

  “I could almost feel sorry for you.”

  “Don’t,” Frank told her. “I’ve got a good horse, a good dog, and new trails to ride nearly every day. After all this time, I wouldn’t ask for anything more than that.”

  Rebel reached over and rested her hand on Frank’s for a moment. “I had you all wrong, Frank. Ed had me convinced that you were some sort of bloodthirsty killer. I can see now that you’re nothing of the sort.”

  Irritation prickled along Conrad’s nerves as he looked at the way Rebel was gazing at Frank. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that she felt some sort of affection for him, perhaps even a romantic attraction. But that was insane.

  “He has killed quite a few men, you know,” Conrad said. “Hundreds, according to some accounts.”

  “Folks tend to exaggerate,” Frank said.

  Rebel squeezed Frank’s hand. “No matter how many it was, I’ll bet there wasn’t a one of them that didn’t need killin’.”

  “I hope not.”

  Conrad pushed his chair back, the legs scraping on the floor. “I don’t believe I’m hungry anymore,” he said tightly. “I’m tired. I’m going up to my room and turn in.”

  Rebel turned a disinterested smile on him. “Good night,” she said. Then she looked at Frank again.

  “Night, son,” Frank said.

  Conrad wanted to tell Frank not to call him son, but he bit back the harsh reaction. With all the poise and dignity he could muster, he turned and stalked out of the dining room.

  Insane, he told himself again as he thought about the way Rebel was looking at Frank. Positively ludicrous.

  But that didn’t make him feel a bit better.

  Chapter 11

  “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you little minx,” Frank said sternly to Rebel as he looked across the table at her.

  She batted her eyelashes innocently as she asked, “What are you talking about, Frank?”

  He slid his hand out from under hers, but he did it gently so she would know he wasn’t really all that upset with her. “You know good and well what I’m talking about. Taking advantage of that poor boy’s feelings the way you were.”

  “That poor boy can speak up if something’s bothering him, can’t he? He doesn’t seem to have any trouble talking about other things. In fact, he goes on and on more than anybody I ever saw.”

  “Conrad is a mite fond of the sound of his own voice,” Frank admitted, “but when it comes to what he’s feeling, he’s pretty close-mouthed.”

  “And stiff-necked.”

  Frank inclined his head in acknowledgment of Rebel’s point.

  “Anyway, how do you know I’m not just acting the way I really feel?” she went on.

  “For one thing, I’m old enough to be your pa. I’m almost old enough to be your grandpa.”

  “But you’re not either one of those.”

  “And I’ve seen the way you look at Conrad when he’s not watching,” Frank went on as if he hadn’t heard her.

  “He is a handsome boy,” Rebel said, a touch of wistfulness in her voice.

  He ought to be, Frank thought. He’s my son, after all.

  But he didn’t say that. Conrad hadn’t mentioned anything about them being father and son while Rebel was around, and Frank didn’t figure it was his place to do so.

  “If you’re going to keep riding with us, sooner or later you’re going to have to tell him how you feel,” he said. “Lord knows Conrad might not ever get around to it.”

  “Am I going to keep riding with you?” Rebel asked. “Aren’t you afraid to have me around? I might double-cross you.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m a pretty good judge of character, if I do say so myself.”

  Rebel’s face grew more solemn as she said, “Ed won’t give up, and he’ll drag Tom and Bob along with him.”

  “That’s another reason to have you around,” Frank pointed out. “As long as you’re with us, they’ll be less likely to bushwhack us. Your brothers may let Ed boss them around, but I reckon they wouldn’t want a bunch of lead to start flying around if you were where some of it might hit you.”

  “So you want to take me along as a shield.”

  “Your words, not mine.”

  A tense silence fell between them for several moments. Then Rebel said, “You still haven’t told me where you’re going.”

  “A place called Ophir. A mining boomtown north of here, in the mountains.”

  “Why?”

  Frank hesitated, but only for a second. He wasn’t going to drag Rebel along with him and Conrad by force, even though what he had said about the advantages of having her with them was true. If she didn’t want to go, that would be the end of it.

  But if she was going to accompany them, she deserved to know what she was getting into. There might be danger along the way. Frank considered it more likely than not that there would be.

  “Conrad’s building a spur line up there, and the construction has run into trouble.”

  “A spur line?” Rebel repeated with a frown. “You mean like a railroad?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “He owns a railroad?”

  Frank nodded.

  “Wait a minute,” Rebel went on. “He said that you own part of the business too.”

  “That’s right.”

  “So you’re really a railroad magnate, not a gunfighter?”

  Frank chuckled. “I wouldn’t call myself a railroad magnate, not by a long shot. The percentage I own is pretty small compared to Conrad’s.”

  “Do you own other businesses, you and Conrad? Besides the railroad?”

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what all we own. There are some mines, I know that, and Lord knows what else.”

  She let out an unladylike whistle. “I never knew I’d been riding the trail with a couple of rich men.”

  “Money never meant that much to me,” Frank said. “As long as I’ve got enough for food and ammunition, that’s all I need.”

  “You don’t have a big fancy house somewhere?”

  Frank shook his head. “Nope. A hotel like this is about as fancy as I ever get. A lot of nights I sleep out under the stars.”

  “I can’t imagine being rich and not living like it.”

  Frank leaned forward slightly and clasped his hands together on the table. “What would you do if you had a lot of money?” he asked.

  “I’d go back to Texas and get our ranch back,” Rebel answered without hesitation.

  “And then?”

  “Why, I reckon Tom and Bob and I would run it like we always have. . . .” She nodded slowly as she began to understand. “Oh. I reckon I see what you’re getting at, Frank.”

  “I lived a long time before I ever had much money,” he said, without offering any explanation of how he had come to own a small part of the vast Browning business empire. “By the time I did, I didn’t have any interest in changing the way I live. So I’ve just gone on my way and let Conrad and the lawyers I hired do all the worrying.” He smiled. “I’d say I got the best end of the deal.”

  “I think maybe you did.” She paused for a moment and then said, “Tell me about the trouble Conrad’s having with this railroad of his.”

  “I don’t know a lot about it myself just yet, only what he told me when he asked me for help. Evidently, there have been some instances of sabotage, and a payroll got stolen. Things like that. Plus the Apaches have been raising Ned too.”

  “You mean raising hell,” Rebel said
with a smile. “No need to pretty it up for me.”

  “Conrad met me in El Paso and told me what was going on, asked me if I’d come out here and give him a hand. I felt like I ought to pitch in, especially since I do have a financial interest in the spur line and in some of the mines up around Ophir.” He didn’t say anything about forcing Conrad to pay him for that help. Frank had already started to think that maybe he had been a mite too petty about that.

  “Have you two known each other for long?”

  “A few years,” Frank answered vaguely.

  “I can see why he’d want you to act as a troubleshooter, the reputation you’ve got and all. And now you’ve got to worry about Ed and those danged brothers of mine, along with the railroad’s problems.”

  Frank shrugged. “Life doesn’t always wait for you to get finished with one challenge before it drops another one right on your plate.”

  “No, I reckon not.”

  The waiter came over and asked if they wanted more coffee. Frank looked quizzically at Rebel. She shook her head, and Frank told the man, “No, I reckon we’re done. Everything was fine.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Morgan,” the man said. He knew who Frank was. By morning, the whole town probably would.

  Frank stood up and put his hat on, then went around the table to hold Rebel’s chair for her. “Now that you know who we are and where we’re headed, do you still want to ride along with us?”

  “Do I have a choice?” she asked.

  “Yes. You do.”

  “I’ll go along,” she said. “I don’t want anything to happen to you or Conrad, and I don’t want to see Tom and Bob get hurt either. Best chance I have to stopping that is to stick close to you two and hope that the boys give me a chance to talk some sense into them.”

  “I was hoping that’s what you’d say. I appreciate it, Rebel.”

  As they were on their way up the stairs to the second floor, Frank added, “I’d be obliged too if you’d remember what I said about Conrad.”

  “About telling him how I feel?” Rebel laughed. “I know you want to help him, Frank, but some things he’s just got to figure out on his own.”

  Frank nodded, but at the same time he hoped he wouldn’t have to knock the youngster in the head with a two-by-four just to get him to pay attention. Sometimes that worked with mules, but he wasn’t sure about mule-headed young men.

  * * *

  Frank was up early the next morning, and had already bought the supplies and had them loaded on the packhorse before he joined Conrad and Rebel for breakfast in the hotel dining room. They looked up at him as he came to the table and sat down, hanging his hat on the back of his chair. Judging by the tense expressions on their faces, they weren’t getting along any better than they had been before.

  Conrad said, “I was just telling Rebel that if she’d like, I’m willing to pay for a train ticket so she can go back to El Paso.”

  “And I was just telling Conrad that I don’t need anybody taking care of me like I’m a newborn baby calf,” Rebel said. “If I wanted to go back to El Paso, I wouldn’t ask for his permission or his help. But as it so happens, I don’t want to go back.”

  “Where are you going then?” he asked.

  Frank said, “With us.”

  Conrad’s eyes narrowed as he looked across the table. “What do you mean? We haven’t discussed this—”

  “Rebel and I hashed it out last night,” Frank said. “She wants to trail along with us, and I think it’s a good idea.”

  “Hardly!” Conrad burst out. “It’s a terrible idea, and no one consulted with me about it—”

  “That’s because I don’t need you telling me where I can and can’t go,” Rebel broke in.

  Conrad looked daggers at Frank. “Am I to assume that my opinion means nothing in this matter?”

  Frank signaled to the waiter for another cup. There was already a pot of coffee on the table. He said, “Rebel and I figured that if she’s along, the rest of the Callahans will be less likely to jump us. And she wants a chance to talk to her brothers before there’s any more trouble.”

  “What about the question of the whole arrangement being improper? Downright scandalous even?”

  “I don’t care about that,” Rebel said. “So there’s no reason for you to care either, Conrad.”

  “Fine,” he muttered. “Let the whole world think you’re a trollop.”

  Her eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened. “The whole world can go to hell, and so can—”

  “I think I’ll have some flapjacks,” Frank interrupted. “And maybe a thick slice of ham and some fried potatoes and some biscuits and gravy. It’s liable to be a long day. Eat hearty, children.”

  “I’m not a child,” Conrad snapped.

  “Then don’t act like one,” Rebel said.

  “Me? You’re the one who—”

  Frank sighed. It was going to be a long trail to Ophir.

  Chapter 12

  The sun had been up for an hour when they rode out of Lordsburg. Under normal circumstances, Frank would have considered that a late start to the day, but where Conrad was concerned it was actually pretty early. So the time of their departure was a compromise, Frank supposed.

  Judging by the stiff backs of Conrad and Rebel, compromise was something that was going to be in short supply on this trip.

  Dog was certainly in good spirits, though, ranging far ahead of the horses most of the time. That was fine with Frank. There was no better advance scout than the big cur. If there was trouble waiting for them, Dog would let him know.

  Rebel wore jeans and rode astride; no sidesaddle for her. She rolled up the sleeves of her man’s checked shirt so that her tanned forearms were visible. Her hair was tucked up in her brown hat. The most colorful thing about her was the blue bandanna she wore knotted around her neck.

  Frank had bought another Winchester in Lordsburg—or rather, Conrad had, since he paid for it. The rifle now rode in a sheath strapped to the saddle under Rebel’s right leg. It was possible she might get separated from them, and now that he had decided to trust her, at least to an extent, Frank didn’t want her to be unarmed in case she had to defend herself.

  The Mogollons rose to their right and in front of them, looking deceptively close in the thin air, but for the time being the trail still crossed a long, flat stretch of territory. They followed the rails already laid down by the work crew of the New Mexico, Rio Grande, and Oriental. Conrad said, “The work went well on this part. The trouble didn’t really start until construction reached the mountains.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Frank said. “Hard to sneak up on anybody out here on these flats. There are a lot more places to hide in the mountains.”

  Conrad hadn’t been happy when he found out that Frank had told Rebel about the problems that were taking them to Ophir, but he hadn’t acted any surlier over that than over the simple fact that she was accompanying them. By now he seemed to have gotten over some of his resentment. He and Rebel were talking together with grudging civility.

  “It should take us about three days to reach Ophir,” Conrad said, “but we ought to catch up to the construction crew sometime tomorrow.”

  “You sound like you’ve made this trip before,” Frank commented.

  “I have. I’ve been to Ophir several times over the past year, checking on our mining operations. In fact, it was making the long journey by buggy that gave me the idea a rail line was needed.”

  A frown creased Frank’s forehead. “You didn’t tell me you’d been up here.”

  “I didn’t see that it made any difference.”

  “Well, maybe it doesn’t. But it’s nice to know that if I need information about the lay of the land, I can pick your brain.”

  “You’d be better off picking someone else’s brain. I always hired drivers and guards, and I didn’t pay much attention to where we were going, as long as we got there safely.”

  Frank suppressed the urge to shake his head. He couldn’t ima
gine traveling somewhere and not paying attention to the surroundings. Studying the terrain, taking note of landmarks—that sort of thing was second nature to him. That was why he seldom got lost in country that he had visited before. Everything he had seen on previous visits was still stored away in his brain, ready for him to use when he needed it.

  They made camp that night in the foothills of the Mogollons. Frank had kept a close eye on their back trail all day and hadn’t seen any signs of anyone following them. Nor had he spotted any Apaches watching them from the hills. Of course, that didn’t really mean anything. If the Apaches didn’t want to be seen, then nobody was likely to spot them. Frank’s instincts hadn’t felt any watching eyes, though.

  He and Conrad took turns standing guard that night anyway. Rebel offered to take a turn, but Frank told her to go ahead and get a full night’s sleep. As much as he was convinced that Rebel no longer wanted to see the two of them dead, he wasn’t ready to put them both completely at her mercy.

  Rolling up in his blankets, he was soon sleeping soundly.

  * * *

  They had camped next to a clump of boulders that had a stairstep shape. Conrad climbed a couple of the rocks to one that was formed like a bench and sat down there with his rifle, ready to keep watch for four hours or so. He could see Frank and Rebel below him, both of them snug in their bedrolls against the chill of night. Dog lay stretched out next to Frank. Faithful companion, Conrad thought.

  He’d had dogs before, but never one as loyal as the big cur. Dog was a steadfast friend to Frank, and Conrad wondered what that would be like. Not to have a faithful pet necessarily, but just to have a friend.

  His mother was the closest thing to a real friend he’d ever had, and that didn’t really count. She had to be fond of him; he was her child. Thinking back over his life, especially the past few years, he couldn’t recall anyone who had been particularly close to him. There were the women who had thrown themselves at him, and the men who had chummed around with him at Harvard, but none of those were real friends either. They had been drawn to him because of his money. That was the only reason they had spent time with him. He was convinced of it.