by Lee Clinton
What made it worse was that the Batchford homestead was well constructed and in good repair for the coming winter snows. All the yard fences were up and gated and the ground behind the back of the barn was marked out with corner uprights in place for an addition. It told him the decision to leave had interrupted future plans – but why? Gus pulled his horse around to the east with the intention of riding till last light, now not much more than an hour away, then finding a suitable place to overnight. Tomorrow he’d talk to the neighbours on the other side of the Mayfield property and see what they had to say.
As the last rays of the sun came low over his shoulder, it highlighted a wisp of smoke from a freshly stoked fire. He stopped, a little apprehensive. To his knowledge there were no settlers this far out from Laramie, which meant it had to be from fellow travellers or Indians. A second dark curl slowly drifted into the sky, followed by another. He was of half a mind to just ride on, yet this smoke signal beckoned. It might have been on the outer limits of the district, but it was still his patch. He changed his mind and direction to go and take a look.
As Gus came over the far crest to look down the slope towards a wooded hollow, he was relieved and pleasantly surprised to see a small homestead. The sound of an axe splitting wood struck up, but he couldn’t identify anyone in the fading light. Gus walked his horse on until he could make out a dark bulky figure chopping wood. Once closer, he saw it was a young man with an almost childlike face. On dismounting, Gus said, ‘Doing a fine job, there.’ He looked across at the large pile of split wood. ‘Looks like you’ll be well prepared for winter.
The young man looked up, stopped, but said nothing.
‘Sheriff Ward from Laramie,’ said Gus by way of introduction.
The young man just continued to stand and look.
‘Gus Ward,’ he said.
A voice from behind said, ‘He can’t speak. He’s a mute boy, also a little hard of hearing. Not deficient, just no tongue and you need to speak up. It was the Lord’s idea to have him born that way, not mine.’
Gus turned to see a smallish woman with a Winchester cradled in her arms. Her voice and stance showed her defiance and challenged her size or any impediments that had befallen her son. There was confidence and a strength of character on display. He took off his hat. ‘We’ve not met. Sheriff Gus Ward,’ he said.
‘I heard. Can I see your star?’
Gus looked down and pulled his lapel back from his jacket where it had hidden his badge.
‘I’m Bev Warren,’ she said in response.
‘Your boy is doing a grand job.’
‘Yes, he is a worker, all right. Like his father.’
‘Just the three of you out here?’ asked Gus.
‘Just the two. My husband is dead. Died at Shiloh.’
Gus paused before saying, ‘Sorry to hear that, ma’am.’
‘Me too. I could have done with him being around these last few years. He was from Tennessee. I’m guessing with that accent you were on the Yankee side?’
‘I was, but I’m still sorry for your loss.’
‘I was a Yankee too, an original from New England, but when you marry a man from the South you have to change your allegiance if you want to fit in, don’t you?’
‘Yes, you do,’ agreed Gus, while wondering why she was armed. ‘So where were you from, exactly?’
‘Connecticut. Know it?’
‘Know it well,’ said Gus.
‘And you?’ she asked.
‘Vermont,’ said Gus, ‘but now I’m all Wyoming.’
‘Me too. Take a cannon to blow me off this property.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ said Gus. ‘Because I see that some of your neighbours have left.’
‘Some,’ she mocked. ‘All. Just us and the coyotes, now.’
‘All,’ repeated Gus. ‘Why?’
The woman walked towards him and stopped just a pace away, with her hands tight around the rifle that was cocked and ready to fire. ‘What do you mean, why? Are you telling me you don’t know?’
Gus was being confronted by this pint-sized woman and it was a little intimidating. He wanted to step back and give himself some room, but to do that would look weak and concede ground. ‘No, I don’t know.’
He could see that she didn’t believe him.
‘I swear, I don’t know,’ he repeated.
‘Well if you don’t know, Sheriff, then where the hell have you been living – under a rock?’
CHAPTER 24
JACK RABBIT STEW
And a Glass of Madeira
‘Now you tell me this, Sheriff. Are you the father of the Ward boy who was going to marry Grace Mayfield?’
‘It’s Gus, and yes, that’s right.’
‘And Abe never said anything to you?’
‘About what in particular?’
‘About a land grab, that’s what,’ said Bev, her voice coarse as if she had spent the day shouting. ‘And a cattle grab.’ She thought for a moment. ‘What do you call that? A property grab, I guess.’
Gus was standing just inside the door of the small homestead. ‘Do you mind if I sit?’ He pointed to the bench next to the table. ‘I’d like to take some notes.’
‘Go ahead. I’ll light an extra lamp.’
Gus slid onto the seat, placing his hat beside him and pulling out his field notebook. ‘Who’s doing this grabbing?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know them by name, we are yet to be introduced, but I’m expecting them any day now.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Because I’m the last one. Kick me out and they will have the whole valley to themselves. But when they do come, we’ll be ready. When I caught sight of you, and it being just on last light, I thought, this is it. Then I saw there was only one of you.’
‘How many were you expecting?’
‘Abe said three. But I still had a bead on you, as soon as you came across the crest. I’m not going to be driven off my land or burnt alive in my bed like Abe and his family.’
Gus pushed his notebook away. ‘Keep talking, I’ll just listen. You tell me all you know, anyway you want, but don’t leave anything out. Then I’ll go so that you can fetch dinner.’
‘Go where, Sheriff? There’s nowhere to go. Even if my neighbours were still here it would be too far to travel at night. You can stay here.’
It was a good offer. ‘I’d be obliged,’ said Gus, ‘but I don’t want to intrude.’
‘Intrude all you like. You’re the law.’ Bev propped her Winchester against the wall, close to the door. ‘I’ll talk while I get cooking or my boy will starve to death. Eats like a horse. You like jack rabbit stew? My boy loves it with boiled onions and potatoes. Got some of both. Each time a neighbour quits, we get the benefit. They have given us supplies they can’t take with ’em. I haven’t been near Laramie or Cheyenne in over six months and will be all right through winter. Still, a poor reward for losing your neighbours. And just when we were all doing so well. You like Madeira? Near on got a full bottle from Fred Elwell. I’d never tasted it before, but it’s really good.’
Gus didn’t even get to answer. Bev was speaking and working at a rapid rate and jumping from subject to subject. A small green glass with a chip to the base was put before him and filled. As he put it to his lips, he smelt what was something like stewed fruit. When he sipped, it tasted delightfully sweet.
‘Good, isn’t it?’
Gus could do little more than nod in agreement as questions leapt to mind, but he decided to hold his tongue, lean back a little, enjoy the flavour of the Madeira and listen.
What transpired over that evening was what a preacher might call a revelation, or the discovery of a greater truth. Not just about what had been happening without any knowledge to him or his deputies, and therefore the mayor and judge, who relied on Gus to tell of such matters – but about his failure as a lawman to uncover such goings-on.
How had he been so blind?
Bev was now telling, without any prompting, where
each link in a chain of events now fitted. Yet, had it not been for a puff of smoke, he might have ridden on past this woman and her son, and been none the wiser – or worse, left them to fend for themselves.
What else had he failed to see before him, now or in the past? Was he the only fool, not to realize he was the fool?
Between the sounds of pots upon the stove and the clank of cast-iron lids, Beverly Warren, a fellow New Englander, told of her life as a milliner in New York and the meeting of her future husband from Tennessee. ‘Handsome as,’ she said, ‘and if you think I can talk, he could talk a leg off a chair. And so pretty. I don’t know what it is about Southern men, but they can make an everyday word sound beautiful.’ Then without a breath she would switch the topic to running stock and the price of cattle, and of an unexpected offer made to Abe to purchase his property lock, stock and barrel. ‘Abe told me that he had laughed, as he was sure it was being said in jest. When one of them said to him that it was a business offer that he would be wise to accept, if he wanted to keep his family safe, well, he became concerned,’ said Bev. ‘He told me when Luke and me ran into Abe and Grace while moving cattle. We have to move our stock over Mayfield land to get to summer water. Abe rode up close and told me, away from Grace’s hearing. He said he didn’t want to concern me, but that I should watch out, just in case they came calling. He then told me that he was heading into Laramie in the next week or two to inform the sheriff. That was when he told me that Grace was marrying the sheriff’s boy, Henry Ward.’ Bev placed a bowl before Gus. ‘Small world, isn’t it? Let me fill your glass.’
Gus accepted the offer.
‘When I heard that the Mayfield place had been burnt to the ground from Mavis Hood, and she said it was Cheyenne, or it could even be Lakota, I knew something was wrong. It couldn’t be Lakota. I know Lakota. They aren’t like Cheyenne. But I still thought that Abe had got to see you, and whoever was going around making threats had been dealt with.’ Bev spooned the stew into Gus’s bowl and it smelt good. ‘I put a turnip in as well. Adds to the taste. But when Mavis was leaving, she was real upset and told me that they were told that if they didn’t accept the offer put before them, they could expect the same as Abe and Fanny. I said, go see the sheriff, we’ll fight them, whoever they are, and she said, it was no good talking to the sheriff.’
Bev paused just long enough for Gus to say, ‘Why did she say it was no good talking to the sheriff?’
For the first time, Bev became quiet.
Gus looked at her, waiting.
‘She said, if the sheriff couldn’t protect his own future in-laws, how was he possibly going to save us? You want another serve, Gus?’ said Bev.
Gus just shook his head. His appetite had deserted him, and in the silence a lone coyote called off in the distance.
CHAPTER 25
THE LAW
The Livestock Agent
It had been a long ride back to Laramie, but it wasn’t the distance or time in the saddle that made it lengthy. Gus was accustomed to saddle time. It was having to keep company with his own thoughts – thoughts of regret and failure that he couldn’t escape. When he rode into town he went straight to the livestock agency to see Larry Earnshaw. ‘We need to talk,’ he said, without any greeting.
‘Is it about Davitt?’
Gus was about to say, no, it’s about Rufus Cole and the Moy brothers grabbing cattle and land, but he paused. The last twenty-four hours had alerted him to the need to listen. Davitt Limborg had been shot outside Cole’s saloon. Was it another link that he had missed? Instead, he said, ‘You tell me.’
Larry started to squirm in his seat. ‘Davitt was coming to see me. I didn’t know when precisely, only that he was coming to see me.’
Gus had to suppress the words, What the hell, spilling from his lips. However, it was as if the stock agent was trying to get something off his chest. Was this a confession? Gus retained his offhand tone as he asked, ‘See you about what?’
‘Livestock sales.’
‘And?’
Larry started to stutter his words. ‘The, the, the—’ He stopped, all the while avoiding eye contact.
Gus could feel himself getting angry. ‘Spit it out, Larry. I don’t have all day.’
‘The Army at Fort Cheyenne signed a contract for the supply of horses and beef with the Cheyenne Livestock Agency.’ He was talking rapidly. ‘Big contract and the CLA was unable to meet demand, so Davitt came to me to purchase stock from the Laramie Livestock Agency.’ Larry licked his lips nervously.
‘And?’
‘And, Davitt showed me the commercial contract signed between the Army and the CLA, and I showed it to Rufus Cole.’
Gus didn’t understand the significance of Cole seeing the contract. ‘So?’
‘He got to see quantities and type of stock required and the prices they were willing to pay, which was above market price.’
‘Why would the Army pay above market price?’
‘Because they wanted certainty of supply and were willing to price any other buyers out of the market to get it.’
That made sense, thought Gus. ‘Then what?’
‘Rufus knew that the settlers out to the west could meet that supply, and that they stood to make a lot of money. And it was easy for them to get quality stock to market. They only had to drive them to the railhead here, then they could be freighted to Cheyenne in a day.’
‘And Cole wanted some of that action?’ said Gus.
‘No,’ said Larry.
‘No?’ questioned Gus.
‘No, he didn’t want some of the action, he wanted all of the action.’
‘You showed Cole how he could make a lot of money fast?’ said Gus to clarify that he had got it right.
Larry’s body rocked in the chair as if agreeing. ‘Not just a lot of money, but a fortune.’
‘So where did Davitt Limborg fit into this?’
‘It was a CLA contract but the livestock were going to be supplied by the LLA. The two agencies are supposed to work independently of each other. It stops market distortion, so we both had to hide that fact.’
Gus now understood. ‘You were in collusion with each other and Cole.’
‘Yes.’
‘And you were both receiving a commission from Cole?’
‘Yes, but Davitt didn’t know it was from Cole. Not at first. He only found out later. I took the first few payments over to him personally, and he thought it had come from the settlers, then—’
‘Then?’
‘Then, somehow he found out that Cole was involved and he wanted more money, a bigger cut.’
‘And?’
‘And I told Rufus, and he said that if he wanted more money, it would have to come from my share.’ Larry had sunk down in his chair, his shoulders hunched forward, his hands in his lap. ‘It’s all my fault. I asked Rufus to speak to Davitt just to hear him out.’ He sucked in a quivering breath. ‘I should never have shown Rufus the contract. I should have just kept this between Davitt and myself. We could have made just as much money, buying direct from the settlers.’
‘So why did you show the contract to Cole?’
Larry was reluctant to answer. Finally, he said, ‘We didn’t have the initial capital for the first purchase of stock. We would need to borrow. Take out a loan.’
‘Was that a problem?’
‘The bank wouldn’t lend to us once they knew that we wanted to purchase stock. It would be a conflict of interest as employees of the agencies. Besides. . . .’
‘Besides what?’ asked Gus.
Larry’s head waved about before he said, ‘I get lonely and I just wanted a little female companionship, that’s all.’
Gus was confused, the conversation having taken a completely different turn, but he said nothing.
Larry continued, ‘And you have to be invited to meet the girls at The Blood. And this was the only way I could get an invite. I had to do something of benefit to Rufus.’
Gus thought for a momen
t before asking, ‘So in return, you got the girls for free?’
‘No, I still had to pay, but it was worth it.’
Gus had to stop himself from shaking his head. ‘How was it worth it?’
‘I had the money to pay for them from the commission Rufus was paying me.’
It was twisted logic, thought Gus, but somehow Larry had convinced himself that it was a good deal. ‘So who shot Davitt Limborg? Was it Cole?’ asked Gus.
‘I think it was one of the Moy brothers, but Rufus sent word that he wanted to talk to Davitt, to make sure everything was all right with the deal we had. Davitt wrote to me and said he would see me after he had met with Rufus.’
‘He was lured to his death.’ It was said as a statement of fact from Gus, not an accusation.
Larry began to weep. It was a pitiful sight. He had confessed, but Gus couldn’t offer him redemption. Greed and desire had begat murder and more.
‘What do you know about Cole driving settlers off their land?’
‘I sort of suspected.’
‘Just suspected?’
‘I have no proof, but Rufus wanted their land, all of it. And when he wants something, no one can stop him, he’ll do whatever it takes.’
‘Including the murder of the Mayfield family?’ questioned Gus.
Larry’s head jerked upright. ‘Rufus said it was Cheyenne renegades.’
‘So, you asked him?’
‘Yes.’
Gus shook his head. ‘You had your suspicions and he told you what you wanted to hear, didn’t he?’
‘I swear, I didn’t know. I still don’t. Others say it was Cheyenne as well. It could have been.’
Gus leant across the desk. ‘Look at me,’ he said.
Larry looked up with tears streaks running down his cheeks.
