the Strong Shall Live (Ss) (1980)

by L'amour, Louis

  They saw that he spoke to her, and they might as well have overheard it because old man Border repeated the words.

  Noble drew up and gallantly swept the hat from his head. "Beauty before industry, ma'am. Youmay pass before I raise a dust that might dim those lovely eyes."

  She looked up at him suspiciously. "My name is Noble," he said, "and I hope that sometimes I am. They call me Cherry because it's cherries I plant wherever I've time to stop. And your name?"

  "Ruth," she replied, her eyes taking in the great expanse of chest and shoulder, "and where might you be going, riding out that way?"

  "Like the Hebrew children," he said, "I go into the wilderness, but I shall return. I shall come back for you, Ruth, and then you shall say to me as did Ruth of the Bible, 'Wither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God, my God.' "

  Ruth looked him over coolly. Seventeen and pert, she had hair like fire seen through smoke, and eyes of hazel. The prettiest girl in all that country it was said, but with eyes for no man. "Oh, I will, will I? You've a smooth tongue, big man. What else do you have?"

  "Two hands and a heart. What else will I need?"

  "You'll need a head," she replied calmly. "Now be off with you. I have work to do."

  "Well spoken!" He replaced his hat on his head and as Ruth passed on across the street, he added, " 'Fare you well, hereafter in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.'"

  Ruth McGann turned on the steps of the Border house and watched him disappear down the trail. It was only a dim trail, for not many went that way and fewer returned. "Who was that?" she asked. "I haven't seen him before."

  "Some stranger," Border said, "but a mighty big man. About the biggest I ever did see."

  Ruth crossed the porch and went into the house for her cup of sugar, a strange thing, as old man Border commented, for her ma had bought a barrel of sugar only a few weeks before, looking to a season's canning. The story was told aroundthe sewing and the knitting circles for days after, and around the horse corrals and in the blacksmith shop as well. She was chided about her big man, but Ruth offered no reply.

  A month passed, and then six months, and then Port Giddings came in with three riders. They had crossed the rough country to the west and stopped by the McGanns. "Wild country yonder," Port said, "but right in the midst of it we found Noble. He asked to be remembered to you, Ruth. He said to tell you when his place was in better shape he'd be coming for you."

  Her eyes flashed, but she said nothing at all Only when they talked she listened and went on with her sewing.

  "The way that valley has changed you wouldn't believe," Giddings said. "He's broken sod on more than a hundred acres and has it planted to corn and oats. He's got two hundred cherry trees planted and sprouting. Then he rounded up those cattle the Green* boys lost, and he's holding them on meadows thick with grass. He's using water from those old Mormon irrigation ditches, and he's cut a lot of hay.

  "Best of all, he's built a stone house that's the best I've seen in this country. That man sure does work hard."

  "What about the Indians?" McGann asked.

  "That's the peculiar part. He seems to have no trouble at all. He located their camp when he first rode into the country, and he went in and had a long talk with the chief and some of the old men. He's never been bothered."

  Cherry Noble could not have taken oath to that comment. The Indians living nearby had caused no trouble, nor had he made trouble for them. The same could not be said for passing war parties. A raiding band of Piutes had come into the country, stealing horses from the other Indians and at that very moment Noble was hunkered down behind some rocks at a water hole.

  Luckily, he had glimpsed the Indians at the same time they saw him. He had reached the rocks around the water hole just in time. He shot the nearest Indian from the saddle and the rest of them went to the ground. Noble got the mule down on its side and out of rifle range. He readied his Winchester and reloaded his six-gun.

  It was a long, slow, hot afternoon. There was no water nearer than fifteen miles except what lay in the water hole behind him. He knew that and so did the Piutes, only he had the water and they did not.

  Sweat trickled down the big man's neck. He took a pull at his canteen and put a reassuring hand on the mule. The animal had been trained from birth for just this eventuality and lay quiet now.

  They came suddenly and with a rush and Noble took his time. He dropped one, then switched his rifle and missed a shot as they disappeared.

  There were at least five Indians still out there. A buzzard soared expectantly overhead. He moved suddenly, further into the rocks and only in time. A warrior, knife in hand, dove at him from a rock and Noble threw up a hand, grasping the Indian's knife wrist and literally throwing the man to the ground near the pool.

  Noble put a gun on him and the Indian looked up at him, judging his chances. "No good," Noble said. "You," he gestured, "drink!"

  The Indian hesitated. "Drink, damn you!" And the Indian did, then again.

  "Now get up and get out. Tell them to leave me alone. I want no trouble, do you hear? No trouble.

  "You steal even one head from me and I'll hunt you down and kill you all." How much the Indian understood he had no idea. "Now go!"

  They went, wanting no more of this big man who lived alone.

  Noble returned to his work. There were more trees to plant, a vegetable garden to fence, traps to be set for rabbits that were playing havoc with his crops.

  Four days later, as if testing him, he found several steers driven off and tracked them to their camp. They had eaten heavily and were sleeping, doubting one lone man would attempt to pursue them.

  He went into their camp on cat feet. He gathered their rifles and was taking a pistol from one of them when the man awakened. His eyes riveted on Noble's face and he started a yell, but the pistol barrel across his head stopped it.

  Walking out of their camp he gathered their horses and led them to where his horse waited. Surprisingly, they were still asleep. Perhaps somewhere in their raiding they had found some whiskey, for they slept too soundly.

  Picking up an armful of brush he tossed it on the fire and at the first crackle of flame they came awake. He was waiting for them with a gun in his hand.

  They started to rise and he shouted, "No! You stay!"

  They waited, watching him. They were tough men, and thank God, one of them was old enough to have judgment. "No trouble!" he reiterated. "I want no trouble!"

  "My cow," he gestured, "all mine! You go now. Don't come back!"

  The oldest of the warriors looked up at him. "You say we come again, you kill all."

  "I don't want to kill. White Stone Calf is my friend. You can be friend also."

  "You say you kill. Can you kill me?"

  "I can kill you. I do not wish to. I am a man who plants trees. I grow corn. If an Indian is hungry, I will feed him. If he is sick, I will try to make him well, but he harms my crops, if he attacks me or steals my cows or horses, I will kill him. Some have already died, how many must die before you understand me?"

  "We will go," the Indian said. "You will give us our horses?"

  "I will not. You have taken my time. I take your horses. Next time I shall take more horses. You go. If you come again, come in peace or I will follow to your village and many will die."

  The following year there were two raids into the area, but they rode around the big man's land; and when the next winter was hard and the snows were heavy and icy winds prowled the canyons he rode into their village, and they watched him come.

  He brought sides of beef and a sack of flour. He rode to the Indian to whom he had talked and dropped them into the snow before him. "No trouble," he said, "I am friend."

  He turned and rode away, and they watched him go.

  Giddings stopped again at the McGann home. "Dropped by to buy some stock from that Noble feller. Got fifty head of good beef from
him. I reckon he's got at least three hundred head of young stuff, and he's kept a few cows fresh for milking."

  "Did you say milking?" McGann was incredulous. "I never heard of a man milkin' a cow west of the Rockies."

  "He's doing it." Giddings glanced slyly at Ruth. "He says women folks set store by milk cows. Gives 'em real butter and cream. For a woman who bakes, he says, that's a big help."

  Ruth seemed not to hear, continuing with her sewing.

  "His cherry trees are growing, and they look mighty nice. Long rows of them. He's put in a kitchen-garden, too. Seems he came prepared with all kinds of seed. He eats mighty good, that feller. Corn on the cob, cabbage, peas, carrots, onions, lots of other stuff. He's found a little gold, too."

  It was this last item that reached the attentionof Lay Benton. It was just like that crazy man, he thought, to find gold where nobody else had even looked for it. His grudge against Noble had grown as stories of his improving ranch continued to spread. He took that success as a personal affront

  Late on a night after another of Giddings' visits, Lay met with Gene Nevers and Ab Slade. "He's got gold, horses, cattle, and some cash money Giddings paid him. Must run to seven or eight hundred dollars."

  "How do you figure to do it?" Slade asked.

  "Take no chances. We lay for him and shoot him down. There's nobody there but him and everybody will think injuns done it."

  At daylight they rode out of town, and Giddings saw them go. He stopped by the McGann house. "I shouldn't have mentioned that gold," he said. "Benton, Slade, and Nevers rode out of town, then circled and headed west."

  "You think they're going after Noble?" McGann asked.

  "Where else? Benton never liked him, and we all know what Benton is."

  Ruth sat quietly sewing and did not look up. Giddings glanced at her. "You don't look worried," he commented.

  She looked up at him. "Why should I be? If a man can't look after himself of what account is he?"

  "By the way," Giddings smiled at her. "He said for you to get to work on that trousseau."

  Her eyes flashed. "Does he think me a fool?"

  Three days went by and there was no change in Ruth, or if there was it went unnoticed by old man Border, who missed nothing. Except, he added, that lately Ruth had been watering her flowers nine or ten times a day, and each time she took a long time shading her eyes down the trail toward the west. The trail was always empty, and the purple hills of evening told her nothing.

  Benton might have been loudmouthed and AbSlade a coward, but Gene Nevers was neither. He was an experienced outlaw and stock thief, and he had killed several men.

  Benton wanted to slip up on Noble and shoot him down from ambush, but Nevers was practical. "Hell have that gold hid, and we'll never find it."

  "Maybe we should catch him and burn him a little. Make him talk."

  Nevers was impatient. "Don't be a fool! His kind never talk."

  At the last they decided that was the way to do it They slipped down near the house and were waiting when Noble went to the spring for water. As he straightened up his eye caught the glint of light on a rifle barrel, and he was unarmed.

  He made a very big target, and he was no fool. These men had come to rob him first and then kill him. Had it been only the latter he would already be dead. He thought swiftly and coolly. The only reason he was alive was because they needed him to locate the gold.

  As the three stepped into the open his eyes went from one to the other. Nevers was at once the most dangerous and the most reasonable. Slade hung back, either overly cautious or a coward. That Benton disliked him he knew.

  "Howdy, gents I Why all the guns? You been hunting?"

  "We were hunting you," Benton said.

  "A long way to come and a big risk for what there is in it," he said.

  "Where's the gold, Noble?" Nevers asked. "It will save trouble if you tell us."

  "Most likely, but I never paid much mind to trouble. Kind of liked it now and again. Keeps the edge on a man." If he could just get within reach--

  He moved toward the door and instantly the guns lifted. "Hold it now I" Benton was eager to shoot

  "Just aimin' to set my bucket inside. No use totalk out here in the sun. I was just fixin' to have breakfast, so if you boys don't mind, we'll just have breakfast first and then talk. I'm hungry."

  "So am I." Slade moved toward the door.

  "Ab," Nevers said, "you go inside and pick up his guns. Move them into the farthest corner, behind where we will sit We will let this man fix our breakfast, like he says. I'm hungry, too."

  Ab Slade went inside and Noble knew what he was doing, he could follow his every move. He came to the door. "All right, just a Winchester and a couple of forty-fours."

  They went inside. Putting down his bucket Noble went to work. He had no plan, no idea. He would fix breakfast as promised. Besides, he was hungry himself.

  They stayed across the room from him, but Nevers was very alert. Several times he might have surprised the others but not Nevers.

  "I found gold, all right"--he talked as he worked--"but not much of it yet. You boys came too soon. You should have waited another month or two when I'd cleaned up the sluice after some long runs. I'd just finished the sluice and now it's a loss. Too bad."

  "Why too bad?" Benton asked.

  "The claim will be lost. Nobody could find it but me, and after you boys kill me you'll have to skip the country. You'll never dare show face around Wagonstop again, so the gold won't do you any good."

  "We ain't leavin'," Slade said. "We'll say it was injuns."

  "That won't work." Noble slapped some beef in the frying pan. "I'm friends with all the Indians. In fact, they're due over here now. I promised them some beef and some tobacco."

  Nevers glanced uneasily out the door. Giddings had said that Noble was friendly with the Indians. Suppose they appeared now, and suspected something was wrong?

  Noble knew what was in his mind. "You boys may have to kill your horses getting out of here because those injuns will be right after you. I've been helping them through some hard times." He forked beef from the pan. "How you figuring on getting out? Unless you know the country you're in a trap."

  "Southwest," Benton said, "to Arizona."

  "See? You don't know this country. The Colorado Canyon, looks like it's a mile deep, lies right in the way."

  Gene Nevers swore mentally, remembering that canyon only then. He had never been south from here, only east and north. Wagonstop was east and the Indians were north. For the first time he was worried.

  "You'd better get outside, Ab, and watch for those Indians."

  "They're touchy," Noble said, "shoot one of them, and they'll really come after you."

  He dished up the food, placing plates before Nevers and Benton. Both men had drawn their guns and placed them on the table beside their

  Elates. Cherry Noble noted the fact and turned back to the fireplace.

  Beside the woodpile was the old burlap sack in which he had the guns he had taken from the Piutes. An old blanket was partly thrown over it. In that sack there were weapons ... but were they loaded? Could he, he asked himself, be sure of getting a loaded weapon if he dropped to one knee and grabbed? There was no certainty, and there would be no second chance.

  Carefully he placed two cups on the table and picked up the coffeepot. Nevers watched him with hawk eyes as he filled the cups. Then they took their cups in their left hands and as Noble filled his own cup inspiration came. He reached for a spoon and accidentally knocked it to the floor. Stooping to retrieve it, he hurled himself against the legs of the table.

  His three hundred and thirty pounds hit the table like an avalanche, smashing it back into the two outlaws. Nevers grabbed wildly at his gun and it exploded, sending a bullet into the wall as the table hit him waist-high. He was smashed backward and with Benton slammed against the wall, the boiling coffee cascading over them.

  Leaping up, Noble sent a huge fist that smashed into Bento
n's face. His head hit the wall with a thud. Nevers pulled free of the table, gasping for breath, and lunged at Noble sending them both crashing to the floor. Nevers swung wildly, and the blow caught Noble on the chin. He might as well have hit a stone wall.

  Jerking free, Nevers grabbed for his gun which lay on the floor. Nevers got a hand on the gun and Noble grabbed for Benton's gun. Nevers fired wildly and missed, then fired again and didn't Noble felt the bullet hit him and fired in return.

  He saw Nevers fall and heard running feet as Ab Slade rushed the door. He turned, swaying, and fired as Slade framed himself in the door.

  Slade fell. Fully conscious, slumped against the door jamb, he said, "You got Gene?"

  "Yes."

  "And Benton?"

  "He's out cold."

  Slade stared at him, almost pleading. "I tried, didn't I? They can't say I was yella, can they?"

  "You tried, Ab. You really tried. You could have run."

  "Tell them that. Tell them I--" He rolled over, out of the doorway to the hard-packed earth outside.

  He died like that and Cherry Noble went back inside.

  On the sixth day after Benton, Slade, and Nevers rode out of town, Ruth McGann walked up the street to the store. She lingered over her shopping, listening for the news. There was none.

  Then somebody in the street let out a yell. The store emptied into the street.

  There was no mistaking the rider on the black mule. Behind him there were three horses. Two with empty saddles, the third with a rider tied to his horse. That rider's face was battered and swollen. Cherry Noble drew up before the store.

  "They came hunting me. Two are buried back yonder. If anybody wants to collect them, they can. I caught one but not bad. Not enough to worry about This one"--he indicated Benton-- "put them up to it and as he sort of figured himself a fighter I turned him loose and let him have at it. He didn't cut much ice as a fighter."

  Ruth stepped off the porch and walked away in the dust. Cherry Noble glanced after her, threw one longing look at the saloon and the beer he had wanted for the last thirty miles, and followed.