Diamond Buckow

by A. J. Arnold

  The old man, hurt at being cut off mid-sentence, merely nodded as his visitor turned away.

  Diamond went into the corral and settled his rope over the head of a wild-eyed, strong looking buckskin. As he switched the saddle from Bones, he could tell that the other was not a horse used regularly. The damned fool meant to give him trouble!

  When his weight hit the saddle, the buckskin tried to get its head down, and Diamond wheeled him to the right. The horse’s head came up and he reared, sunfishing.

  Diamond swung him to the left, spurring the tender flanks hard. The buckskin squealed, kicked out, and broke into a dead run. Diamond let him go, easing him around until he was headed for Henry Blough’s Standing Arrow.

  When they reached it and rode down the lane of the ranch, Diamond recalled the last time he had visited the place. If anything, it was even darker now than that night when he’d come as a fugitive trying to get his belongings. But tonight he made no attempt to cover the sound of his arrival.

  The borrowed Pied Piper mount had run the whole distance and was blowing hard. As Diamond turned him toward the house, he was hit on the shoulder by a glob of lather.

  No light showed from either the main house or the bunkhouse. He jumped to the ground, staggering until his legs relearned how to carry him. A tight sensation gripped him and his heart thudded in time to his pounding on the door.

  Diamond waited in painful quiet. A light came on in the house, a board creaked, and a familiar female voice demanded, “Who’s there?”

  He swallowed, then said, “It’s Diamond, Nancy. Buck.”

  He would never forget how Henry Blough’s wife looked, standing in the doorway in a lightweight summer sleeping gown. Her firm, rounded breasts moved against the thin fabric and her long honey-colored hair hung in sultry disarray around her face and shoulders. A rifle leaned against the wall just inside, as if she had set down its protection only when she heard his name.

  “Buck!” she gasped, going pale. “Diamond, I mean. What on earth... ?”

  “Nancy, is your man here? I got to find him and Daniel Thompson before they hang more innocent men.”

  She leaned against the doorframe for support. “No. Henry’s in Dodge. I haven’t seen Mr. Thompson in weeks. Why? You said something about hanging more men. Were some men already hanged?”

  “Yes, two,” he said bluntly, not trying to soften it for her.

  “But I don’t think Henry was there at the time, although your hired man was. Has anybody else been here? Yesterday or today?”

  “Just Tom,” she answered, looking puzzled. “Tom Dobbins. He visited a little while, then left his horse and buggy here. He borrowed a mare and saddle, and rode off toward Dodge City. Oh, Buck, I thought he was behaving strangely. Please tell me what’s going on.”

  Diamond sighed, knowing there was no denying Nancy Blough. Not from him, at any rate. He told her everything, spilling it out in uncustomary full detail.

  “I don’t know where Jake is,” he concluded. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive, at this point. I do know that Wide Loop and his crew hanged two men. At least one of ’em was going to turn over a new leaf. Russ wanted to work for me and go straight.”

  He sighed so deeply that Nancy reached out a soft hand to his shoulder.

  “Buck—Diamond. It’s not all over, I know it’s not. You’ll find Jake alive and welt It’s going to be all right. I just wish I could help more.”

  Her deep brown eyes studied him. “Where are you going from here?”

  “Dodge is the likeliest place. Everybody else seems to be headed that way. Could I leave this horse and use one of yours?”

  “Of course. Take that dapple-gray in the corral and saddle the bay gelding for me. I’m going with you.”

  Diamond stared for several long moments at her beautiful, serious face, not sure what he read there, nor why his chest felt so strange.

  “Nancy, are you sure you want to?”

  She finally smiled. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s high time I took a hand in Henry’s affairs.”

  “He’ll not take kindly to that.”

  “Indeed, he won’t! He’ll shout and rage, but, Buck, he’s truly led too easily. So from now on, I intend to do the leading and not leave it up to Mr. Thompson. Now, I must get dressed”

  Nancy Blough firmly closed the door. Diamond stood several minutes in place, pondering over her.

  He was just cinching the saddle down on the bay when she came to the corral.

  “Ready?” Nancy asked.

  Diamond handed her the reins in response, then mounted the gray. They rode hard. He set a fast pace, making sure she kept up. Aware that he’d done little at taking her comfort into account, he hoped she understood, as she always seemed to.

  Nancy rode well, and Diamond marveled at her stamina as they went down the main street of Dodge a scant hour after sunrise. They passed a restaurant, and Diamond was suddenly starved. He hadn’t eaten, after all, since breakfast of the day before.

  Turning his horse into the tierail, he asked Nancy, “Hungry?”

  “Well, yes, but I need to clean up first. The hotel where I stay in town is just down the street.”

  He surveyed her swiftly and critically. “You look perfect to me, Nancy. Good enough to eat.”

  Her laugh was merry as she dismounted gracefully and hitched the bay.

  Once inside the eatery with her, Diamond realized the place was familiar. Here, forever ago, he had met and loved Sarah Ainsworth. Even farther back, a kid named Buck had sat in this very booth to gobble his breakfast down.

  They ordered. Then Nancy asked, “Now that we’re here, what are you going to do? Are you looking for Jake, or Mr. Thompson, or my husband?”

  “I’ll take ’em in any order I can find ’em. But I’d rather talk to Strickland before I face the other two.”

  He paused, answering more fully once he’d sorted out his thoughts.

  “When I left the ranch I was looking for Jake. Finding Russ dead changed that. I trusted Russ, Nancy. I put him in charge of keeping those cattle together until something could be worked out with your husband and Thompson. When Wide Loop executed Russ, he killed a Running Diamond hand. It’s the same as a declaration of war.”

  “Buck. I’m sorry. But, Diamond—”

  He held up a hand. “Wait, Nancy. Let me finish. If I’d have settled the score with those two like I should have, Harve and Russ wouldn’t be dead.”

  Breakfast interrupted. They ate in silence.

  As Diamond finished the last of his coffee, Nancy Blough said, “About facing Mr. Thompson and Henry. You can’t just shoot them right here on the street. Dodge City isn’t so wild anymore. There’s a good man here who enforces the law fairly. If you like, I’ll go with you to see him. Maybe we straighten this out, and no more killing.”

  He turned anguished eyes on her. “Nancy, I can’t.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Nancy studied Diamond for a long and drawn-out minute. Then she said softly, ”Henry doesn’t even carry a gun anymore.”

  He raised his eyes to meet hers. Was this woman suddenly pleading for mercy, begging for the life of a burned-out old man who had made hell out of her own existence?

  What he read on her tight, pale features told him something entirely different. When he finally saw what it was, he took her round face in his big rough hands and cradled it tenderly.

  “My God, Nancy, I didn’t know. I’ve felt the same almost ever since I met you, but could never say anything because of your man.”

  He crushed her dainty hands in his, but she seemed not to notice. Tears spilled silently down her cheeks.

  “Then you do see, don’t you, Diamond? If you kill Henry and marry me, no one would ever let us live it down. I’ve wished for that between us for—oh, I can’t tell you how long! But not this way.”

  His tone was grim. “Yes, Nancy, I see. And you know I’d never shoot an unarmed man. But I still got to face both Henry and Wide Loop Thompson. I
f I don’t clear this thing up now, it’ll never get settled.”

  “Diamond, I want to see it all over. Now. Please go with me to the town marshal.”

  Her tense urgency melted his last defenses. He knew he’d be a damned fool to resist her any more, and risk losing all he was suddenly about to gain.

  “All right, you win. But I really got to check with a couple of places first, try to find Jake before we see those other two. It could mean a whole lot if he’s already talked to them.”

  “Don’t be too long,” she implored. “We’ll have to act soon, today if possible. Let me freshen up at the hotel and meet you at the marshal’s office.”

  Diamond agreed, hastily leaving some money before they went on their way. As he caught sight of their horses at the hitching rail, he got to thinking. Next to saloons, the best place for him to ask questions would be the livery stable. He told Nancy he’d go there with their mounts, then on to Jake’s old drinking haunts while she went to the hotel.

  It was mid-morning. Diamond emerged from the third watering hole without gleaning any information. He started across the dusty street at a long angle toward the lawman’s office. Two men spilled out of a doorway just opposite him. Looking up, his gaze fell directly on Henry Blough and Daniel Thompson.

  Diamond’s body went taut, instantly alert. His first impulse screamed to charge over to them and finish the thing. Then he calmed a bit as he remembered his conversation with Nancy. He decided to have the marshal with him when he confronted the pair. But it was not to be. He heard the papery voice of his former ranch boss say something to Wide Loop.

  This signaled Thompson to bawl across the way, “Hey, you with the red beard! Ain’t you that Diamond feller, been squatting on a hunk of range west of us?”

  Diamond turned to face them, catching out of the corner of his eye Nancy Blough and a tall man wearing a star, as well as Tom Dobbins. They had just left the marshal’s office, he thought, searching for him. He kept on walking, to the middle of the street, to face the two he had so long avoided.

  “I’m Diamond, all right, Mr. Thompson. But I’m not squatting. I own the land where my buildings are. Had you taken the time to check with the land office, you’d have known. You wouldn’t have to accuse a fellow rancher of something that just isn’t true.”

  His blue eyes glittered coldly. “But, then, the Blough-Thompson combination never did take the time to find out the whole truth before they acted.”

  “Why, you Johnny-come-lately!” Wide Loop shot out, his usual quick temper surfacing at once.

  “What the hell do you mean? I never done anything without just cause.”

  Diamond’s tone was flat and calm. “I dug a grave yesterday that proves you’re a liar.”

  His words hit the rancher like a club. Thompson breathed hard as red rushed first to his thick neck, then spread quickly up his face.

  “Why, why—” he finally sputtered. “I’ll kill you for that!”

  “No,” Diamond said icily. “Don’t. I can wait ’til you clear leather and still put lead into you before you get a shot off.”

  No one within hearing thought it was an idle boast. The man with the star spoke in a commanding baritone.

  “Now, both of you cool off. There’ll be no shooting in the streets of my town.”

  Thompson spoke, his eyes never leaving Diamond. “Marshal, this don’t concern you. Just step back and stay out of it.”

  The man stood his ground. “If it happens in Dodge City, it’s my business.”

  Diamond looked at the forty-fives, one on each of the marshal’s hips. Off to the lawman’s left he could see Tom Dobbins shielding Nancy with his body.

  “Makes no difference to me,” the marshal said. “Either starts for his weapon, you’re both dead. Just relax.”

  Satisfied when they began to obey, he added, “That’s better. Now, each of you unfasten your gunbelt and let it slide to the ground.”

  Abruptly, the marshal turned on Wide Loop, both irons seeming to leap into his hands as his voice rang out.

  “No, Mr. Thompson. Use your left hand. OK. Now, just stand hitched.”

  The scene froze for a moment as the lawman’s pair of shooters slid easily back into their holsters.

  Then he said to Diamond, “Now, as I understand it, you’re ranching out west of here on range these two claim. That right?”

  “I got a spread over close to the Colorado line. I own one quarter section and one of my partners has proved up on another. Jake Strickland has filed on still another. As for any claim from this pair, I’ve lived there more’n three years. Never saw one rider from either of these gents’ ranches.”

  “Strickland!” Thompson roared, fit to rattle windows all across town.

  “There, Marshal, that proves the dishonesty of the whole bunch. Jake used to work for me. I fired him for rustlin’ my cattle whilst he drew wages off me.”

  “You never had proof of that,” Diamond countered. “Jake’s always been the most honest man on this range.”

  As if his ears burned from being the topic of discussion, Strickland came out of the hotel. He angled to the center of the street to stand beside Diamond.

  “What’s goin’ on here, pard?” he demanded, his tone stating he already knew.

  “Both of our one-time employers have come right out and called us dishonest, Jake. Here in broad daylight on the main street in Dodge, in front of the town marshal.”

  Diamond’s gaze flicked briefly toward Henry Blough. “I reckon Wide Loop is talking for you, same as always.”

  The old man stared, his voice thin and high-pitched. “Who the hell are you, anyway? The likes of you never worked for me.”

  Out of the corner of his eye Diamond saw Nancy Blough flinch against Tom, and heard her sharp intake of breath. But Wide Loop Thompson broke in, his voice loud and angry.

  “Strickland, you climb that hoss and ride. I’m leaving orders from now on, any man on my or Henry’s ranch who finds you on this range is to shoot on sight.”

  Jake looked at Daniel Thompson, his gray eyes still as stone.

  “I know you don’t believe me, Wide Loop. Never did and most like never will. But I never in my life stole cattle, nor dealt any with those that did.”

  His partner shifted his weight from one foot to the other while he watched Thompson and Blough.

  “You two might not remember me,” Diamond said. “But I sure remember you, and that so-called deputy sheriff you sicked onto me. My name was Peter D. Buckow. Him that hanged me, Newt Yocum, is dead. We caught him red-handed with rustled cattle over across the Colorado line.”

  Henry Blough’s face was purple. Ropy blue veins stood out on his temples. He sputtered like a hissing cat, but before he said anything his wife moved three or four steps forward, into his line of view.

  “Calm down, Henry,” she ordered with soft firmness. “You know what the doctor told you about your heart.”

  If anything, his agitation worsened. He swung to face her, shouting.

  “What in tarnation are you doing here? This is no place for you, Nancy. Get back. Get off the street.”

  Her blazing brown eyes riveted him. “I’m here to take charge of your affairs, Henry, and I won’t go away. You’ve let Mr. Thompson lead you around as is if you were blind. He’s had innocent men hanged. When you do nothing to stop it, you’re as guilty as he is.”

  “Blough.” Diamond’s voice cut through, focusing all attention on him.

  “Do you and Thompson want to see what kind of a mark a hanging rope makes on an innocent man?”

  He ripped the bandana off his throat, baring the diamond necklace of white scars.

  Wide Loop was the first to recover. “There! More proof, Marshal. What are you waitin’ for? Shove ’em both in jail! I’ll swear out a warrant, we’ll have us a real quicklike trial, and hang ’em in the morning.”

  He wilted slightly before the clear-eyed patience of the lawman’s look.

  “Mr. Thompson. That mark aro
und the gentleman’s neck proves only that he was hanged, and lived. Not that he’s guilty. According to what I’ve been hearing from Mrs. Blough and Tom Dobbins, he was probably no more guilty than a man with the nickname of Wide Loop.”

  Daniel Thompson started up, but the marshal continued, a frigid warning in his voice.

  “In fact, I understand another man or two was hanged just the other day. Suppose I look into their alleged guilt?”

  “Damn,” Wide Loop groaned, sounding strangled. He reached to where his gun normally rested on his hip, then realized it wasn’t there.

  “All cow thieves should die!” he shouted.

  As he feinted, then dived to one knee to grab a weapon off the ground in front of him, Henry Blough cried out in pain. The old man grabbed his chest and doubled over, crumpling into the dust.

  “Henry!” Nancy screamed, running to him.

  Her action put her between Thompson and the marshal, preventing the lawman from stopping Wide Loop’s quick chance to aim and fire at his accused rustlers.

  But another shot rang out at the same time. Jake Strickland’s forty-five slug drove Thompson’s body back and down with its force. Wide Loop’s shot went wild, thudding into the support post of a store across the way.

  The town marshal leaped from the sidewalk into the street, his own guns ready. But he saw in a moment that Wide Loop was out of action and that Strickland stood quietly.

  “All right,” the lawman conceded. “I’ll certify it was self-defense, but you better give me your iron for the time being.”

  Jake stiffened, but handed it over.

  The marshal gave him a steady look. “When the paperwork’s done and the judge OK’s it, you’ll get it back.”

  “I didn’t want to kill him,” Strickland said. “I only wanted him to admit I never stole anything, from him, nor anybody.”

  Tom Dobbins came forward slowly to look down on Thompson’s corpse, and to check with his friend, who was hunched over her husband.

  “Nancy,” he asked gently, “how is Henry?”

  She rose tall, her burning eyes on Diamond and her voice colorless.