by Ben Bridges
‘I’m not here on Association business,’ he replied, speaking low and urgently. Reaching some inner decision, he said, ‘If you want to know the truth of it—that is, assuming you haven’t already guessed it—I’m on your side in this. I would have come sooner, but this was the earliest I could get away without it looking too suspicious. I was planning to ride out and see you at Franklin’s place, but then I heard that you’d been taken in here.’
Sitting forward, elbows on knees, I asked anxiously, ‘What is it you wanted to see me about?’
His face turned stony and bleak. ‘They really mean it, Colter,’ he said. ‘They’re going to clear those settlers off this land once and for all, and make sure that no-one ever dares to try moving in again.’
A small gasp from the doorway made us turn. Jane was standing there, a tray in her small hands, upon which she had carefully placed an ornate coffee pot and small, delicate cups. Dawes went over and took it from her, then set it down on the table, but made no immediate move to pour.
Carbonne went on, ‘You can’t win. Not against the kind of campaign they’ve planned. But I thought, maybe, if I could just forewarn you...’
‘I’m listening,’ I told him.
He said, ‘The only reason Jameson’s not already here gunning for you is that Linderman’s sending him to Helena later this evening.’
‘The capital?’ Dawes asked. ‘What the devil does he plan to do there?’
‘He’s going to recruit an army, Mr. Dawes,’ Carbonne answered. ‘An army of not less than fifty gunmen.’
Dawes whistled softly. ‘Can he do that?’
‘Oh. He can do it, all right. And with the Association offering a fifty-dollar bounty for every so-called “rustler” they kill, I don’t suppose there’ll be any shortage of takers, either.’
From the corner of my eye I saw Jane sway slightly, and her father put his arms protectively around her. ‘Surely,’ she whispered, ‘surely, what they’re proposing is against the law?’
‘With a fighting fund of one hundred thousand dollars,’ Carbonne replied, ‘I think they can do pretty much whatever they want, Miss Dawes.’
He was right about that. Quickly my mind sought a solution to this new dilemma. I said, ‘We’ve got to get some law in here, fast. Real law, I mean, not Sheriff Carr.’
‘Jeffers is a good man,’ Dawes supplied.
‘Maybe,’ I replied. ‘But he’s only a deputy. He’s got no real authority.’ I stood up faster than I meant to, and winced a little. ‘I’m going to send a wire to Helena and get a US Marshal down here.’
Carbonne shook his head. ‘They’ve already thought of that,’ was his reply. ‘A couple of Jameson’s men rode out to cut the wires earlier this morning. I’m sorry, Colter, but you’ll not be sending any telegraphs from around here until this is all over. They’ve isolated Fairfax County, my friend. To all intents and purposes, your people are on their own now.’
‘I’ll ride to Helena, then.’
‘They’ll have men watching all the trails.’
‘Damn them!’ It was Dawes, punching one fist into the other palm.
I said, ‘What’s their plan, then? If we know that, at least we can try to counter it.’
‘It’s simple enough. Once Jameson has finished recruiting his army, the Association is going to bring them up from the south by means of a privately-engaged train. As soon as they arrive, they’ll begin a systematic sweep of the county, burning and slaughtering everything in their path. And that’s not all. They’ve invited some newspapermen along to report it all, as well.’
‘That...that’s terrible!’ breathed Jane.
‘I agree with you, Miss Dawes,’ Carbonne concurred. ‘But it won’t seem that way by the time news of it reaches the outside world. It will be reported as some sort of “crusade”, you see—a struggle between good and evil. And every man and woman who reads about it afterwards will applaud Lindeman and the others for taking a stand, and never once suspect the truth.’
My head was throbbing again. What was I to do? What could I do? The Association was past listening to reason, even supposing I could go back and talk to them without getting Carbonne into trouble.
At last, reaching a decision, I crossed to my gear, hurriedly stamped into my boots and buckled on my gunbelt. As I eased into my jacket, Carbonne asked me where I was going.
‘Franklin’s place,’ I replied. ‘Jessica Dunbar said she’d be coming out to see me there tonight.’ I finished fixing my collar and said, ‘She’ll have to know about this.’ I was dreading telling her, though, for there was no knowing how she would take it, or what she would do about it.
Carbonne climbed to his feet and gave me his hand. I looked at his very serious and frankly worried face and understood then why he stayed with the Association, why he had told me he could do more good where he was. Gently I said, ‘Earlier on, you told me to take care. Now I’m returning the advice. Watch yourself, Carbonne. These are ruthless men we’re dealing with.’
‘I will.’
I turned then to Jane and her father. ‘Thank you for your help, Mr. Dawes. Thank you for everything.’ I took his hand and he gripped mine in return. Then I took Jane’s hand in mine and squeezed it. ‘And you too, Jane.’
She squeezed mine back, and said tremulously, ‘Be careful, Ashley.’
I saw myself out, my mind jumbled now with other considerations. I found my horse in the stable behind the hotel, re-saddled him and rode south. By the time I reached Franklin’s spread, the afternoon was cooling by degrees as the sun slid ever westward, but the peace I sensed there was a deceptive thing—truly the calm before the storm.
Mary Franklin appeared on the porch when I rode in. Her face showed alarm when she saw my injuries. I dismounted, went inside and explained to her and Ernie what had happened, then turned the mustang out in the corral. After that I could only await Jessica Dunbar’s visit that evening.
Full dark cloaked the countryside a little after nine o’clock. I stood alone on the porch, more at ease with my own company, and tried to imagine what my friend Jack Page would have done in such circumstances. A moment later, my split, still-swollen lips narrowed down, for Jack was like Jessica. He would have gone to war too, and without hesitation.
But I did not see why it should have to be that way, especially since there were women and children to consider as well. There must be a way to settle this without further violence. All I had to do was find it.
Owls and bats fluttered through the night. Insects bumped at the small, lighted windows behind me. I strolled aimlessly to the far end of the porch, thinking about Jane and the second chance her father was prepared to give me. The sooner this matter was resolved, I told myself ruefully, the better.
I spun then, and lashed out at the person I had sensed creeping up behind me from the side of the house. My left hand closed around an arm and I yanked hard to throw whomever it was off balance. They gasped and started to struggle. I drew my gun, thumbed back the hammer and said, ‘Hold it.’
The shadowy figure went absolutely still—and Jessica Dunbar’s fiery violet eyes flared back at me over the gun barrel.
Releasing my breath in a hiss, I put the gun up, let down the hammer and slipped it back into leather. Behind us, the front door suddenly opened and Mary came bustling out, long gun in her hands. ‘What—?’
I spoke without looking around. ‘It’s all right, Mary. It’s only Mrs. Dunbar.’
For a moment there was no sound other than Jessica’s quick, excited breathing. Then she said, in that sardonic, goading way of hers, ‘You’re good, Colter. Very good.’
My response was flat. ‘You nearly got your head blown off.’
‘I was only testing you. Seeing if everything they say about you is true.’
Dropping her guard, Mary turned and went back inside. I said, ‘Where’s Ethan tonight?’
Jessica’s voice suddenly hardened. ‘He’s safe. Sleeping. He sleeps a lot, ever since...’ She came to stand
beside me and look out over the moon-white darkness. ‘They tell me you got more than you bargained for when you rode into Beaver Dam today.’
‘You hear a lot,’ I replied. ‘Do I have to tell you how I got on with the Association?’
‘No.’ I felt her eyes on my profile but didn’t look down at her. I was waiting for her to make some remark about how I should have listened to her right from the start, but all she said was, ‘I hear you had a fight with Ward Jameson.’
‘It was better to beat him with my hands than with my gun.’
‘I hope you don’t come to regret that decision.’ Still her eyes moved across my face, making my skin crawl. ‘So,’ she said. ‘What did Linderman and the others have to say for themselves?’
I told her, and she listened with a tight face and one raised eyebrow. Then, because I couldn’t postpone it any longer, I told her about Carbonne’s visit as well. When I was finished, I looked at her. Her expression showed nothing, no surprise, no disgust, no anger and no fear. It was a neutral mask from which all feeling had been expunged.
An eternity later she nodded thoughtfully and said in a matter-of-fact tone, It’s war, then.’
‘That’s a decision you’d do well to let the settlers make for themselves.’
She shook her head pityingly at me. ‘I just can’t make you understand, can I? We don’t have a choice.’
‘There’s always a choice, if a man—or woman—is prepared to search hard enough for it.’
She almost flinched. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘All I’m saying is this,’ I argued as patiently as I could. ‘The Association has given us seven days. Let’s make the most of them. Let’s get the rest of the settlers together, explain the position to them and then put it to the vote. If I can’t find another, better way to solve this business, and if they’re still willing to fight...all right—we’ll fight. But they’ve got to be told, Mrs. Dunbar. It’s not going to be pretty, and for sure it’s not going to be easy.’
She was as still as a statue for almost a full minute. Then she brushed herself down and said, ‘I’ll have everyone here day after tomorrow—sooner, if I can manage it.’
I nodded and she turned away. Just before she disappeared back into the darkness at the side of the house, however, I called her name. ‘Mrs. Dunbar.’
She glanced back at me over one shoulder. ‘What?’
I said, ‘Don’t ever creep up on me again.’
At about dawn two days later, the settlers began to arrive. They came wheeling into Franklin’s yard singly and then, as the morning progressed, in twos and threes, and because they were afraid of what might happen while they were away from home, they brought their wives and children with them as well.
I went out to watch them come, and Mary, her children and even Ernie himself, joined me. The settlers came in Murphy wagons, surreys and traps, and some of the men and their older sons rode in astride big, roman-nosed saddle-mounts. I noticed that all of them were loaded for bear, as we used to say—that is, armed and ready for trouble.
Soon, however, an almost picnic-like atmosphere pervaded the ranch, for these people did not get out much as a rule, and saw little of their neighbors. Men clustered in groups to discuss the present crisis and women gathered to trade news and gossip whilst their children played and capered with new-found friends.
This, I thought, was how a community should be.
As the morning wore along, however, the patience of the newcomers began to wear thin, and they became restive, eager to settle this thing one way or the other. About an hour after the last of the settlers had driven in, Jessica Dunbar finally made an appearance. She came riding in from the south, chousing all that remained of Ernie’s cattle out of her path, and her husband Ethan drove his buggy along beside her, powder-gray hair flying in the breeze, slack lips moving in his endless litany of hums and mutters.
To this day I am not sure if she kept us all waiting deliberately, for effect, or whether she had held back until she was sure it was safe for her to come in. As she and her man entered the yard, however, all the impatience I had sensed seemed suddenly to evaporate, and a few of the settlers cheered her on, and several more actually applauded her.
Ethan reined his buggy in before the house and Jessica dismounted and hopped up onto the back so that she could better address the gathering. Although she didn’t invite me to, I climbed up beside her, for I had given the matter much thought in the last two days, and I had a few things of my own to say.
An expectant hush fell across the settlers as they waited for Jessica to speak, a hush broken only by a few crying babies and the mothers trying to quieten them. In her usual terse fashion, Jessica repeated everything that Linderman, then Carbonne, had told me, though wisely she did not mention Carbonne by name. If silence has different levels, then it grew even quieter as she spoke. Even when she stopped speaking there was no immediate sound; not even from the uncomprehending children, nor even from Ethan.
Then a smallish man with a heavy gray moustache and spectacles, Aaron Mayberly by name, called up, ‘Where exactly does that leave us then, uh, Miz Jess?’
She regarded him from beneath the brim of her suede Plainsman hat, hands on hips, one booted foot braced against the rattan side-panel of the buggy. ‘It leaves us with a choice,’ she replied. ‘A clear choice. To run—or to stay. And if we stay...to fight.’ She gave the assembly another slow sweep with her violet eyes. ‘Are you men game? To fight for what you’ve already settled and built on?’
No one replied, though there came much clearing of throats and shuffling of feet. It was a big commitment and everyone was waiting for someone else to make it first.
Men glanced furtively at their tearful wives and their still-silent children. I did not envy them the decision Jessica was asking them to make, for while they might be prepared to fight, they had their families to consider—and what would become of them if they should fall in battle?
Almost affronted by their continued shuffling, Jessica said, ‘Do you really have to think about it?’ She shook her head in disgust. ‘Lord, if it’s the odds that’re worrying you, well...I did some trading with a couple of miners last fall, got some dynamite stored away for just such an occasion as this. A few sticks of that ought to thin their ranks out a bit.’
That brought a faint reaction from her audience, but still no-one came right out and allied himself with her.
‘We’ve got to fight these bully-boys,’ Jessica went on. ‘And we can win against ‘em, too—if we get in the first blow, and follow it with another, and another, and keep on hitting them without giving ‘em the chance to recover.’ Again a sweep of the crowd with glittering, hot eyes. ‘Well? Who’s with me? To keep the land you’ve settled?’
Still no man would commit himself. Then Tragg raised one big paw, and I saw Jessica’s shoulders square up, for at last she was recruiting the first of her soldiers—or so she thought.
But Tragg wasn’t signing up, he just wanted to ask a question. ‘Miss Jess,’ he said. ‘What’s Mr. Colter have to say about all this?’
A few of the men around him nodded and echoed the query.
Jessica turned her face to me. The settlers’ reluctance to go along with her had already put her in a bad mood. Now her wide, generous lips narrowed down still further. ‘Well?’ she asked, arching one eyebrow. ‘What have you got to say about it?’
Overlooking her obvious sarcasm, I regarded the crowd for a moment before speaking. ‘There’s no two ways about it,’ I told them. ‘Sooner or later, you’ll have to fight. But maybe there’s a way to...limit the fighting.’
I saw frowns appear on the tense, confused faces arrayed before me. A few of the men began to mutter. Jessica said baitingly, ‘I think they want you to explain yourself, Colter.’
I nodded readily. ‘All right.’ Lifting my voice, I said, ‘The way I see it, the Association has already handed us the best weapon we could hope for, the one way to win this struggle with the l
east loss of life. In case you haven’t already worked it out, I’m talking about the newspapermen Lindeman’s invited along to report on his “crusade”.’
I felt Jessica’s eyes squinting at me. ‘Just what’s going on in that brain of yours?’ she asked.
‘These newsmen think they’re coming here to see a bunch of rustlers chased out of the county. Well, if we could somehow get hold of them before they reach Beaver Dam, and show them the true picture—you people, and your wives and children, and your modest little spreads and herds and ambitions...well, they might just begin to see the Association in a different light, and take that bigger story back home with them.’
That set a whisper running through them, a whisper to which Ernie Franklin responded. Rising slowly from his chair on the porch, he shuffled across to the wagon, still holding his healing side.
‘I see what you’re getting at, Ash! We could make these pressmen see our side of the story, and hog-tie Linderman in the process, for he wouldn’t dare order his men to attack us while we’ve got hold of them!’
‘Like hostages, you mean?’ asked Mayberly. ‘Hey, I like the sound of that.’
Jessica was glaring at me now, clearly jealous of the support I was getting. She had to raise her voice to be heard above the excited buzz, as my idea began to take hold.
‘Now, just a minute here!’ she bellowed roughly, and slowly order returned to the meeting. ‘Now, it’s all well and good what you’ve been saying, Colter—but just how do you plan to lay your hands on these newspapermen in the first place? It’s my understanding that they’re coming in from Helena aboard the same train that’s carrying Linderman’s private army.’
Another buzz ran through the settlers, this time in support of Jessica.
‘The train will only bring them as far as Cascade,’ I replied, naming a town some twenty five miles to the southeast. ‘Linderman’s men will probably come the rest of the way on horseback, the newspapermen most likely aboard a mud wagon. So we’ve got to grab them before they leave Cascade.’
