by Anna Schmidt
She turned back to Collins and leveled the gun at him, even as Trey took a step closer. She expected her husband to ease the rifle from her hands, but instead, he stood next to her, tall and solid, his hand resting protectively on her back.
Pete held up his hands and tried to smile. “Now, come on, ma’am. Trey. We just wanted to—”
“Talking doesn’t seem to be something you’re too good at, Pete,” Trey said. He looked past Collins to the others. “Gentlemen, if you’ve come to sit down and discuss things calmly, you’re welcome to stay. But if it’s a fight you want, I won’t join you. It’s your choice—a truce with both sides negotiating, or surrender to all-out war.”
Nell lowered the rifle as Collins returned to his horse, held for him by one of the other ranchers. He mounted and grumbled, “Let’s go, boys.”
But when he spurred his horse and rode away, no one followed.
“Maybe I could take that now?” Trey said as he relieved Nell of the rifle.
Was he smiling? She was in no mood to be taken lightly. “I mean what I say, Trey. I will not bring another child into a world where grown men act like children. What kind of example is that setting?”
“I’m doing my best, Nellie. Folks are afraid of what they don’t fully understand.”
She saw the weariness in his eyes, and her heart melted. “Pay no attention to my ranting,” she said, smoothing a lock of his hair back from his forehead. “I guess I’ve said my piece, so go on and meet with the others.”
“Come with me,” he said, lowering his voice so that he was speaking only to her. “Maybe with you there telling them what you and Lottie have been through, they’ll come to a better understanding of just how out of hand things have gotten.”
“I don’t know. It might just make things worse.” While most of the men waiting to meet with Trey had attended Javier’s funeral and been civil—if not exactly cordial—to her, Pete Collins seemed to have brought them around to his way of thinking far too easily.
“Like you said, you’ve got as much stake in this as any one of them.”
Trey handed the rifle back to Juanita, and when Nell walked with him to his office, the other ranchers followed, a few snatching off their hats in deference to her presence among them. Some sat on the sofa and a couple of straight-backed, carved wooden chairs, while others stood. The murmur of conversation she had heard as she and Trey passed them ceased the minute Trey stood at his desk and cleared his throat.
“Gentlemen, I’ve asked my wife to speak to you as a representative of the other side of this disagreement.”
Nell scanned the room and saw a mix of rolled eyes, men muttering to each other, and a general uncomfortable shifting of feet. But one by one, the men gave her their attention—grudgingly, in some cases.
Trey sat down in his desk chair and nodded encouragingly.
She steadied her shaking knees by gripping the edge of the desk. “I can’t think what else I might add to what I said outside there,” she began.
“What’d she say?” bellowed old Jasper Perkins, a rancher who was notoriously hard of hearing.
Nell cleared her throat and raised her voice. “Like many of you, my first husband, Calvin Stokes, and I moved to this territory seeking a better life for ourselves and our son. We had also been told the drier climate here might be better for Joshua’s health. Thankfully, that seems to be the case.”
She paused, searching for words.
“For as far back as either Calvin or I knew, our families had raised sheep—first in Scotland, and then a generation ago, our parents came here. Like many others, they came for a better life and settled in Kansas and Nebraska. That’s where Calvin and I grew up, met, married, and started our family. I expect many of you have a similar history, of parents or grandparents who emigrated here from other shores.”
A couple of nods gave her the courage to continue in spite of a few of the men continuing to scowl at her, their arms folded firmly over their chests.
“Your neighbor, Mrs. Johnson, agreed to sell us her property. Sadly, we were only here for a short time before Calvin was killed along with our two shepherds. And as we all know, the troubles did not stop there.”
A rumble of muttered comments spread across the room.
“Hear her out,” Trey said.
“Also, as many of you are aware, raising sheep is a good deal different from raising cattle. An entire flock of sheep can be tended by two or three men—men on foot mostly. With cattle, you need many men—men on horseback. Of course, one thing we share in common is that we both depend on our herding dogs to help.”
A man standing near the door actually smiled at that.
“There has been harm on both sides, I do not dispute that. But I would ask you to consider what it took to deliver some of that harm. Your fences were cut—in some cases, miles from the nearest sheep ranch. How did a herder get there to do such damage? When your cattle were raided and stampeded, if we don’t own horses, who were those riders?”
“Next you’ll be excusing your own nephew from killing Javier Mendez in cold blood,” a man shouted, and others around him hardened their gaze at her.
“My nephew will stand trial for that,” she said, raising her voice again to speak over the general rumble of dissent. “He will face a judge and jury, as should anyone who has broken the law in this territory. I am not denying all blame. Certainly some acts were the work of my fellow herders. But I would remind you that the murder of my first husband, the rimrocking of the majority of my brother’s flock and my own, the burning of my home, and the raids my son and I endured were all the work of men who had no respect for the law. Perhaps that kind of vigilante justice was acceptable years ago when this part of the country was first being settled, but we are coming to a new century, gentlemen. Our children will inherit the ways we teach them.”
“I didn’t come here to hear a lecture from no woman,” one man said and stormed out.
“Yeah, he gets enough of that from his wife at home,” Jasper bellowed, and several men laughed. “Go on, Miz Porterfield. You’re making more sense than I’ve heard in a good while.”
Nell’s heart swelled at this sign of support. “All I want to say is that everything Trey and I do is for the good of my son and the baby we are expecting come fall.”
That news brought a chorus of hoots and whistles that left Trey blushing and grinning. He stood and placed his hand around Nell’s waist. “Gentlemen, thank you for your kind consideration.” He guided Nell to the office door, and as the men parted to let them pass, at least some of them nodded or tipped their hats to her.
Once they were outside, Trey kissed her. “Thank you, Nellie. I know that wasn’t easy.”
“Do you think I made things worse? I mean, that man who left—”
“Ralph Sutter is another hothead like Pete. The point is the others stayed. Now go inside out of this hot sun and get off your feet.”
“You are going to be impossible about spoiling me and this baby, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “That’s the plan.”
She touched the dried blood on the cut where Pete Collins had hit him. “We should get some ointment on that.”
“It’s nothin’. Worth every drop of blood if it made those men in there start to distance themselves from Collins. Now scoot.” He gave her a gentle push in the direction of the house. “I’ll be in directly.”
* * *
When Trey returned to his office, the others were deep in conversation.
“She had a point,” one man said. “That business about who rides and who doesn’t makes me start thinkin’ on just how some of this business might have been carried out.”
“The herders aren’t completely without blame,” another man argued.
“She never said they were, but it wasn’t herders that killed Calvin Stokes or burned down her place. What wou
ld be the point?”
“The house burning could have been revenge by herders because she married Trey,” another rancher said.
“That makes no sense. It’d just drive her closer to our side, so Trey ends up with her property.”
“Maybe that’s why he married her in the first place.”
Trey cleared his throat, and the men turned their attention to him. “Let’s make one thing crystal clear, gentlemen,” he said, his throat tight with the fury he refused to put on display. “That woman and her family have had to endure the senseless loss of the men they depended upon. Nell’s house has been destroyed, her flock stampeded. She and her son have nothing left of the life they came here to build. Take a walk in her shoes, my friends, and then tell me you want to keep fighting.”
“She ain’t lost everything yet, Trey. She has her boy, and the two of you are having a baby, aren’t you?” Jasper might be close to deaf, but the man had a way of hearing what he needed to hear. “That’s a pretty good sign things are going your way.”
Everyone laughed, and Trey realized—not for the first time—that these were good men who only wanted the best for their families. There would always be men like Collins who could sway their thinking, but Trey trusted that in the end, reason would win out. Still, Pete and his cowboys would continue to cause trouble, and the angrier he got, the more vicious his attacks were likely to become. Trey wondered if he dared share the plan to set a trap for Pete, one that would unmask him as the brains behind much of the trouble.
He looked around the room. There were men he knew he could trust, but there were others who would side with whoever they thought stood the best chance of preserving their financial security. No, he would rely on the militia and his family—Jess, Seth, Rico. For now, he would simply elicit an agreement from those in the room that neither they nor any of their cow hands would be a party to any attack on herders or their property.
The others were barely aware of him as they debated the best way to move forward. Trey realized Nell had gotten to them. They were actually talking about the sheepherders as if they might share some of the same challenges. For the first time since the whole conflict had begun, Trey realized there was no talk of “those people.” For the first time, his neighbors were thinking of both sides.
“I have a suggestion.” He shouted to be heard above the fray. “What if we all sign a pact?” He pulled out a piece of paper from the desk drawer and wrote out the pledge. He put his own signature to the page first and then handed the pen to Jasper.
One by one, the other men took their turn and signed the paper, then shook hands to further seal the contract.
As he watched them ride off back to their ranches, Trey felt for the first time in weeks as if progress had been made. And it was at least in part because of Nell.
Eleven
Juanita did not like the way Trey was acting in the days that followed the meeting with the other ranchers. He kept things to himself, was distracted during meals, and she had heard him arguing with Nell. He was a grown man—and technically her employer—and yet she felt the need to keep him close to home, especially now that Javier had been killed.
She saw her chance one October morning while Trey was finishing his breakfast. Nell had gone to lie down, and Joshua was out doing his assigned chores. She poured herself a cup of coffee and pulled a chair close to the table. “What’s going on with you?”
He stared out the window, although from his expression, he was lost in thought rather than admiring the scenery. He turned his attention to her and smiled. “Just trying to figure something out.” His expression sobered, and he covered her hand with his. “How are you doing these days?”
She pulled her hand free. “Don’t go changing the subject, young man. You are up to something, and everything I know tells me it’s going to put you in harm’s way. You want to know how I’m doing? I’m worried I could lose another son—you.” She cradled her cup with both hands, mostly to hide her shaking.
“Now, Nita, you’ve no cause to—”
“Do not lie to me, Trey. Your wife is worried, and so am I. The difference is that she knows the cause, and I don’t.”
She watched him wrestle with how much to reveal. “All right,” he said finally. “Tomorrow at church, Nell is going to invite her sister-in-law and nephews to come here for the afternoon.”
“You’re saying that boy that killed my son will be here? Staying here?”
Trey ran his hand through his thick hair. “I know it’s asking a lot, but it’s the only way, Nita. Nell will make sure he stays out of your way.”
Juanita lowered her head and studied her knobby, arthritic fingers. She felt old and tired, and she just wanted to live out her days in peace. She released a long sigh and looked up at Trey. “And you think they’ll accept after everything that’s passed between them and us?”
“Eventually, but that’s not the point. First, we have to stop the attacks, and those point directly to Collins. So Nell’s going to make sure that Pete hears her extend the invitation. It’s a trap we’re setting, Nita, to try and prove once and for all that it’s Pete and his men behind all the trouble.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Pete was pretty upset with what happened here that day last month, especially when the others chose to stay rather than follow him. When the boys took the stock to market, they overheard Pete make comments—veiled threats.”
“He’s feeling outnumbered, Trey, and Pete Collins does not like to lose.”
“He’s definitely ripe to try something. I suspect that if he thinks there’s nobody home at the Galway place, Pete will see his chance to stir things up again.”
“What about Ernest Stokes?”
“He left. Headed back to Nebraska once Lottie made it clear she has no intention of marrying again.”
“So all the other ranchers are in on this?”
Trey hesitated. “Not exactly. It’s hard to know who can be trusted.”
“You’re doing this on your own? No wonder Nell is upset. You alone against Collins and his men?” Juanita shook her head.
“Jess will be there, and Seth as well. Plus, Colonel Ashwood has agreed to have half a dozen of his men standing by. If Pete and his men show up and start to do anything, Seth can arrest them. Ashwood’s men will take them into custody and hold them at the fort.”
“And then you think this mess will end?” Juanita took her cup and his breakfast dishes to the sink and began washing them. “You forget there are two sides. You think the herders will thank you and do whatever you ask once you prove Collins is at fault?”
“I’m not naive, Nita. True reconciliation will take time, but if we can stop the destruction, we can make a start. Pete is desperate to be right—that’s become all he cares about. Sheep people are bad, and cattle people are good. For him, it’s black and white. That’s how he sees it.” He rubbed his hands over the stubble of beard on his face and leaned back. “There’s a middle ground here, Nita. I don’t have all the answers, but that I know for sure.”
She studied him for a long moment, noticing how much he reminded her of his father—another man who had sought to bring people together. “Nell is expecting your child,” she reminded him. “She’s already lost one husband and had to fend for herself and her boy. Now you would risk putting her through that again?”
Trey’s sigh told her she had hit on the nerve that was at the center of those hushed but angry exchanges. She pressed her point. “She’s afraid, Trey, and that can’t be good for her or that baby. Let Seth and Jess handle this. It’s a good plan on the face of things, but you need to stay out of it.”
She wiped her hands on a towel and crossed the room so she was standing next to his chair. “You need to stay here. Didn’t you promise Joshua you would play ball with him and his cousins when they came over?”
“Yeah, I did, but—”
>
“Then keep your promise. Let the others deal with Pete.” She held his gaze as she added, “I have asked nothing of you, Trey, but I am asking for this.”
Trey stood, and as always, she wondered at how this tall, broad-shouldered man could ever have been a sickly child so frail that she’d had doubts about him even making it to adulthood. He hugged her.
“Between you and Nell, a guy doesn’t have a chance,” he said, but he was smiling when he released her. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
It was as much as she was likely to get, so she agreed. “Good. Now let me make up a cup of my special tea for your wife. She’ll be feeling better in no time.”
Trey laughed. “Your special tea has a way of curing most ills, Nita, but it’s not what you put in it. It’s the threat that if it doesn’t work, you’ll come up with something even more foul.”
“Never you mind,” Juanita fumed, but as she turned away, she smiled. Trey would stay away from the danger—she was sure of that. He loved that woman too much to cause her any undue worry.
* * *
On Sunday, Trey and Nell arrived at the church and saw their opportunity at once. Lottie and the boys were just approaching while Pete Collins stood outside the double doors in his role as church deacon, greeting people—or at least the ranchers and their families. Nell called out to her sister-in-law.
“Lottie! I’m so glad to see you. Trey and I would like for you and the boys to come home with us after services. Juanita is preparing a feast, and Trey promises to play ball with the boys while you and I have a good long visit.”
“You’d all be welcome to spend the night,” Trey added. “We’ve plenty of room.”
While she was not privy to the true reason for the invitation, Lottie played her unwitting part to perfection. “What do you say, boys?” she asked.
