Diamond Buckow

by A. J. Arnold

  A faint suggestion of light in the eastern sky made him stop walking and look around. As Diamond pondered the start of another day, an old man came along. He unlocked a door under a sign that proclaimed merely, “EATS.” The lighting of the restaurant lamps turned on Diamond’s hunger and he went in.

  * * *

  His meal finished, Diamond wandered the streets. He considered how safe he might be, spending time in Dodge City, and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. It seemed like a lifetime since he’d ridden into Dodge with Glenn Saltwell’s trail crew. But he remembered he hadn’t felt comfortable then, either.

  Diamond could again hear Nancy Blough’s words. No one’d know him with his beard. If he kept it trimmed, she thought he’d look like a different man.

  He now found himself in front of Henderson’s General Store. Dare he test his new appearance? After all, he’d been trying to keep the face hair decent. He pushed the door open. Everything looked almost like it did when he used to stop to see Sarah Ainsworth.

  Mr. Henderson stood in the same place behind the counter, and might even have been wearing the same clothes.

  “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, you know, it’s coming on to winter.” Diamond forced a casual smile. “I’ll need a coupla new shirts and a heavy jacket. Oh, yes, and gloves.”

  The proprietor rubbed his hands together. “Right this way. I have a good selection. A few new short fleece-lined saddle coats you’ll have to see to believe, and, I’m sure, the best price west of Saint Louie.”

  Diamond grinned for real this time. Some things never changed, he thought—nor people, neither. He followed the store owner between the counters piled high with a wide variety of merchandise.

  When Diamond entered the saloon where Rebekah worked, he was wearing a whole new outfit. In the light of day the place had lost any glitter or semblance of polish. The room was unoccupied except for a barman and the table at the back, closest to the stairway to the upper floor.

  Three working girls sat eating what looked like a very late breakfast. Without their war paint, they all looked plain. But he had to give the devil his due. Had to admit his sister suffered the least when the sun came out.

  Diamond ignored the bartender. The man was holding up his hand, trying to show he wasn’t yet open for business.

  Diamond crossed to the table. “Hello, Rebekah.”

  She looked up. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Want me to throw him out, Becky?” the barkeep asked.

  Diamond dipped his left side and swung around to face the man. One hand went to the butt of his sixgun while he held the other ready in front of him.

  His sister barked out a laugh. “Better not, Joe. This here’s Mr. Diamond. You see what he did to that bully—George-Something-Or-Other? The night man said it was all one-sided. George landed one blow, then this gentleman did all the rest.”

  The man called Joe stepped back to look Diamond over.

  “George deserved whatever he got,” the bartender asserted. “But that don’t cut no ice with me. Give you fair warning, though. I heard George’s jaw was broken. Before the doc taped it shut, he swore to kill you soon’s he could find you.”

  “Thanks,” Diamond said, with ice in his response. “But if he doesn’t throw lead any better’n he does his fists, he’d best get a head start while my back is turned.”

  The small group stared at him and he stared back. Then he looked down at his sister.

  “You got what I want?”

  She spoke sharply to the girls at her table. “You two are done eating. Take your coffee someplace else, I want to talk privately with Mr. Diamond. Joe, give this gentleman a cup of coffee.”

  Both the soiled doves left, giving Rebekah a murderous glare. Joe turned away to do her bidding while Diamond slid into one of the still-warm chairs.

  “Do all the girls here hate you, Sis?”

  Rebekah shrugged. “Damned if I know, or care. If they don’t like me, it’s jealousy over how much money I can make in a night. And that’s their problem, not mine.”

  A cup of strong, hot brew appeared in front of Diamond, sparing him a nasty retort. He didn’t care for his sister any more now than he had as a kid. And he sure as hell didn’t pity her for a hopeless victim like the thin, beat-up little whore he’d met last night.

  Rebekah spoke without preamble. “The fellow you’re lookin’ for—he’s working as a night man at a rundown stable on the east end of town. He’s sleeping days up one of the side streets, the last house. Hands who’ve lost their wages go there to get a cot for little or nothin’. It’s kind of funny, no bar, no girls, just a place to sleep.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Diamond said wryly. “I think in the past I’ve slept there a time or two myself. But what’s the name of the stable? I stabled my horse last night and didn’t see anybody around at all.”

  “Damned if I know.”

  The reply and shrug seemed to be Rebekah’s stock answer. It annoyed the hell out of her brother.

  “Anyway, it’s the worst one in town. Maybe it hasn’t even got a name.”

  Diamond shot her a disgusted look. “All right. If I miss him one place, I’ll find him at the other.”

  He was halfway to the batwings when she called after him. “Oh, Mr. Diamond. Watch out for backshooters with broken jaws. Remember what happened to your father.”

  He wheeled to face her, his sudden pallor proof she’d scored at getting the desired reaction. Diamond knew he had to leave in a hurry, lest his temptation to strangle the bitch be overpowering. Her strident crow’s laugh followed him out of the saloon.

  He decided to try the sleeping place first. The old man at the desk told him Jake Strickland had just left, that he usually spent several hours in a cheap watering hole, The Bucket, before going to his stable job come ten o’clock night. Diamond thanked the man and started out to find his friend.

  The Bucket was small and dingy. Strickland leaned against the plank bar, about halfway down. He talked to nobody, just stared into his drink. Diamond stepped to one side where he could see the man well, and wondered how to approach him.

  He did and didn’t want the former ranching man to know him. Because if Jake didn’t recognize him, how could Diamond help him? On the other hand, if recognized, how the hell safe could Diamond hope to be?

  He shook off the latter fear and watched his friend. Jake had let himself go, all right. No longer the top hand in dress or manner, his clothes were filthy and in need of repair. He hadn’t shaved in days.

  Strickland drained the glass in front of him and thumped it down on the solid wood.

  “Another, please, Whitey.”

  The snowy-haired bartender came and stood facing him. “Sorry, Jake. You know I’d like to, but I can’t. You just plain owe too much.”

  Diamond shoved in beside Strickland and dropped a gold eagle on the plank.

  “I’ll pay for the one he just drank. Set him up again and bring me a beer.”

  When Whitey moved away, Diamond looked at Jake, who was in turn scrutinizing him.

  “Who are you?” Strickland queried. “Nobody just up and buys me a pair of drinks these days. You want something off me?”

  Diamond looked long into the overcreased wrinkles, the bleary film on the gray-green eyes.

  “Knew you once,” he said softly. “You were different then. Just wondered what brought you to this state.”

  Strickland obviously had not lost all his fire. His voice was full of thunder and lightning.

  “Lies, dirty lies—somebody’s branded me so bad I can’t get any kind of riding job. Used to be a top hand, but now because of all the lies I’m stuck working nights in a half-assed stable.”

  The drinks came. Diamond sipped his while Jake raised his glass in a bitter mock toast.

  Setting his beer down again, the younger man asked, “You got a horse, Jake?”

  Strickland looked at him. “I know I know you, cowboy. I just can’t rememb
er no more, that’s all.”

  “Jake, do you own a horse?” Diamond persisted. “We can talk over past times later.”

  Thompson’s former man gave out a loud sigh. “Yeah. There’s an old scrawny wreck with the P.P. brand behind the so-called stable where I spend my nights—from the ranch I used to work on, one nobody else’d have. But what’s the difference? Ain’t nobody’d hire me, horse or not.”

  A thought struck Diamond. “If that nag’ll get you out of town, I’ll give you a job.”

  Jake tried to blink away the whiskey blur from his eyes. “You got a ranch of your own?”

  Diamond wondered if that little flash was enough to tell him Strickland was still capable of a comeback. He damned well better be, Diamond suddenly was fit to bank on it.

  But Jake seemed to slip back right before his eyes. “Hell, it doesn’t even make a never-mind. Soon’s you hear the rumors, you’ll change your tune.”

  He turned to the barman. “One more, please.”

  Whitey glanced at Diamond, who slowly shook his head.

  “Sorry, Jake. I know you can’t pay, and this here gent’s already gone for two. Listen, why don’t you try your friend’s offer? What you got to lose? It’ll do you good to get out of town, away from lies and whiskey.”

  Diamond jumped in, talking low. “Rumors couldn’t be worse than what’s been said about me of late. My place is ’way down along the Colorado line. I hardly ever see a rider passing through, much less hear gossip. We’ll head out right away, not give anybody time to tell the lies you’ve been jawing over.”

  Strickland tried to smile.

  “You’d do that for me? Why?”

  Diamond looked quickly about, saw they were alone. Whitey had gone to pour for another customer at the far end of the long narrow bar. With a swift motion, he lifted his bandanna to let Jake see the chain of diamonds scarred into his throat.

  “Once you tied a hanging rope that saved my life, Jake. Now I want you to come help me run my ranch. Fair’s fair, wouldn’t you say?”

  Strickland went sober in an instant, his voice mercifully quiet but ragged with memory.

  “Buckow! My God, is it really you?”

  “It’s me, all right, but I don’t use that name anymore. Appreciate your never mentioning it again.”

  Jake nodded. “What’ll I call you?”

  “I go by Diamond these days. Let’s get out of here.”

  Strickland put a hand on his friend’s arm. “You got any more money? I owe Whitey, and I don’t like leaving debts stand. If you make it good, you’ll get it back out of my first pay.”

  Diamond considered it. Somehow, between himself and Tom Dobbins, he knew they’d take care of Jake. And Jake would repay in kind.

  “No sooner said than done,” Diamond grinned.

  He called Whitey over, talked to him briefly, and left coins on the bar.

  The sun was down but darkness hadn’t set in when Diamond and Strickland stopped. They went to make night camp along the Arkansas River, a few miles west and a little north of Dodge City.

  Jake had stuck grimly to his saddle for the two hours or so they’d spent riding. When the horses were cared for and he’d drunk his first tin of Diamond’s strong coffee, he began to talk. He suspected Newt Yocum was running off at the mouth saying Strickland was informing local rustlers where and when to strike and had once snatched a convicted thief away from the hangman.

  “They just keep repeating those lies ’tit most folk believe them,” he concluded bitterly.

  “Well, Jake, they’ll soon forget all about you if you don’t hang around Dodge anymore.”

  “But, damn it all, it’s not true! If I run away, they’ll be that much more convinced they’re right.”

  Diamond shook his head, sure of his own experience. “Maybe, but I doubt it. If they don’t see you around, the lies will soon be forgotten.”

  “And another thing,” Strickland challenged. “From what you said, I figured we’d be heading southwest. But we’re going ’most straight west, and maybe a little north of that.”

  Diamond hid a grin. He’d thought his friend was too hung over to notice what direction they were headed in. He was actually pleased to be wrong.

  “Got to go to Garden City first,” Diamond said. “My partner lives there—he’s helping me get started. We’ll rest up here ’til morning, then go on in.”

  He paused, watching Jake. “And if Tom agrees, I want you to file on the quarter section next to mine and be a full partner.”

  Strickland spoke in a breathless whoosh, although his gaze never left the cookfire.

  “My God! A place of my own. I never expected—I mean, I’d be glad just to work for you. You don’t have to give me a half interest.”

  Diamond laughed. “Don’t you think twice, Jake. It’s not much of anything at all yet. We’ll have to work like all get-out before we can even call it a ranch.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Late afternoon of another day had rolled by before Diamond and Strickland rode into Garden City on two tired mounts. Diamond was anxious for his old friend to meet his new partner. But he looked askance at Jake’s seedy appearance, and decided to get him cleaned up and a little more presentable.

  They stopped to buy clothes first. Over his protests, Strickland went away carrying a new outfit. Then Diamond pushed him along to the barbershop, where he submitted, willingly this time, to a haircut and bath. Lastly they leaded for Dobbins’s Hardware, but found it locked. Diamond reckoned that Tom had gone home for supper.

  They walked down the alley. Dobbins must have seen them coming, Diamond figured, for he was waiting out on the porch by the time the pair got there.

  “Diamond. Glad you’re back, see you’ve brought your friend.”

  Tom’s face wore its familiar smile, but his dark eyes asked a number of questions. They went unanswered for the moment.

  “Yes, sir,” Diamond replied. “This is Jake Strickland. Jake, my partner, Tom Dobbins.”

  Strickland looked uncomfortable at the niceties. He was still a little shaky despite all Diamond had done for him. With unsteady movements he walked up the three steps to the porch.

  Plunging a hand forward he said, “Sure glad to meet you, Mr. Dobbins. My sidekick here’s been singin’ your praises all the way from Dodge.”

  Tom forced himself not to hesitate. He caught Jake’s hand and shook it with vigor.

  “Well,” he began, showing another cautious grin. “If Diamond’s sure of you, I guess it’ll do.”

  “Tom.” Diamond’s tone held just the slightest warning edge.

  “Time was when Jake could work cattle with any man. Better’n most, from where I saw it. I want him to file on the quarter section next to mine. He’s to be a full partner on my end of that agreement between you’n me.”

  Dobbins looked at Jake and back again at his young friend. The wrinkles deepened on his old-before-their-time features as he mulled over his next words. But Diamond held up a hand.

  “Now, Tom. Before you say anything, just let me tell you about the work I did. About the cattle I saw out there where my claim is. I didn’t rightly keep track of time, but counting mavericks of all ages, I was averaging six head a day that never had a brand before.”

  He paused a minute to count in his head. “I brought in, say, a third to sell. That leaves around a hundred-fifty to add to the two hundred you had, and I didn’t hardly scratch the surface. One awful lot of critters out there, and we got the best claim on them. With Jake to help, I can brand ’em twice as fast. What he gets as his share will come out of my half.”

  Diamond stopped again and drew a breath. Speech-making didn’t come natural to him. But when Dobbins made to get in edgewise, and Diamond not sure he’d been convincing enough on Jake’s worth, he took off again.

  “I never told you my story, Tom. But Jake, here, once saved my life, and I feel like nothing’s too much for me to do in paying him back.”

  The hardware man fitted his b
ack against the railing post. This time his whole face smiled.

  “I’d thought you took too much on by yourself, anyways. Was about to suggest you talk Sean O’Malley into going out there with you. He’s young yet, but he’s got nobody else. Be good for you both, him being such a hard worker. And now you got Jake, so that’s two to train him right.”

  Diamond and Strickland eyed him. Tom broke into a chuckle.

  “Seein’s how you’ve already proved yourself, partner, and you’re the one going to be boss, I thought I’d stake the whole outfit. Got a team of matched dapple-grays, been broke to harness and heavy enough to stand hard work. Also, an old wagon to haul supplies out to the place. Even got a string of six mares that could do double duty as cow ponies and brood mares.”

  Strickland’s open mouth and gray eyes blazing with a sudden swirl of emotion stopped Tom. Diamond pounded his partner’s shoulder with enthusiasm as he shouted at Jake, “Now you can see why I’ve been singing his praises.”

  Tom waved it off, his round cheeks getting red. “Back to the breed boy,” he said hastily.

  “You take Sean along, pay him out of your share, and we’ll split the whole thing three ways. You, me, and Jake.”

  Mrs. Dobbins interrupted by poking her head out the front door.

  “There’s good food settin’ on the table getting cold. I got plenty. Tom said to expect you, Mr. Diamond. Tom, you holler out in the barn to Sean. Bring in our new friend, too, one more makes no never-mind.”

  Dobbins turned, only to find the half-breed standing at the foot of the porch steps.

  “Sean, you hear?”

  Black eyes danced. “Yeah. And if this new cowboy ain’t hungry, I’ll eat his share, too.”

  Everybody laughed but Diamond, who was anxious to settle up.

  “D’you hear the rest, about working for me, boy? That set right with you?”

  The head of dark hair bobbed twice, emphatically.

  “If you want, Sean,” Tom added, “I’ll give you that App cutting horse you’ve ridden of late.”