Conagher (1969)

by L'amour, Louis

  I hope not many die , Conaghe r added , for I like the country as it is, wit h not too many people .

  Benactiny changed the subject . Yo u are the man here? There was only a woman and two young ones .

  They are my friends. I watch ove r them. Their friends are my friends, thei r enemies are my enemies. It is good tha t you come in peace, for I would like t o believe Benactiny is their friend as well a s mine .

  Benactiny studied him, the faintes t shadow of a smile in his eyes, for befor e this the two men had barely spoken i n passing, although each knew much abou t the other.

  I think you speak of peace , Benactin y said . Is it that you are afraid ?

  You speak in jest . Conagher used th e word he had heard an Army officer use t o an Apache . I have no need to fear. I hav e no enemies .

  No enemies?

  I had enemies, but I have buried m y enemies upon many hills. A man need s enemies to keep him wary and strong, bu t I would not have Benactiny for an enemy.

  I have spoken to all the white men of wha t a great warrior he is, but what a fin e chieftain also. It is one thing to be fierce i n battle, but it is important, also, to be wis e in council .

  Benactiny swung his pony . We wil l ride on .

  Wait! Conagher lifted a hand . My friend Benactiny rides far. I would no t have him ride without tobacco .

  With his left hand Conagher delved int o his saddlebag and came up with severa l sacks of Bull Durham. One he gave t o Benactiny, and half a dozen others to th e other warriors . Divide them , he said , and when you smoke, remember Conagher , your friend .

  Deliberately then, he turned his bac k and stepped up to the door. It opene d before him and he stepped in, reaching u p with his left hand to take the saddlebag s from his left shoulder. Then he went to a loop hole to peer out. The Apaches wer e riding away.

  They would have attacked us , Evi e said.

  I think so.

  What did you say to them ?

  He shrugged. They're reasonabl e enough. I've fought Indians. I've fough t the Sioux, the Cheyennes, the Apaches , the Comanches and the Kiowas, but I'v e shared meat with them, swapped horse s with them, and found them reasonabl e men. They respect courage. You can't yield to an Indian. He will kill you out o f contempt as much as for any other reason , but he respects courage, and he respects a good argument .

  He knew you.

  Let's say he recognized me. I ain't much, Mrs. Teale, but I'm too dumb t o know when I'm whipped. He knew I'd fight just as I knew he would. We recognized that much in each other .

  Will you stay for supper? We were jus t gathering some greens .

  Well, I'll stay if you'll let m e contribute. I've just come from the Plaza , a few days back, and I've got some bacon , a package of raisins, and a couple o f pounds of prunes you might use. And I'v e got coffee .

  Thank you, Mr. Conagher. I wil l accept them. As a matter of fact, we ar e just out of coffee .

  Fry up some of that bacon , h e suggested . I'll go see to my horse .

  She had said they were out of coffee, bu t Conagher had a hunch they were out of a lot of other things as well. All of the m looked gaunt . . . they might not hav e missed meals, but the meals they'd ha d must have been pretty skimpy. How Evi e Teale kept going without a man he coul d not guess.

  He rubbed his horse down, forked som e hay into the corner of the corral, the n carried his saddle under the shed. He took his rifle, rope and blanket roll to th e cabin.

  There was a lot of work around here tha t needed a man to do. The boy wasn't up t o it yet. Conagher stopped up a leak in th e water trough, and fixed a place on the roo f where the wind had worried a corne r loose, and when it was close to sundown h e got his rifle.

  I'll be an hour , he said . If I haven't got a deer by then it'll be no use waitin g longer. They've not been hunted, and the y should be feeding down toward wate r about now .

  He remembered the country fro m before. A western man habitually note d water holes and animal sign as he travele d through the country, and Conagher ha d crossed that ridge before. He got up on it , about thirty yards from the water hol e with the wind in his face, and he lay dow n in the brush and waited.

  Sure enough, scarcely half an hour ha d passed before he saw a deer, then tw o more. He chose a big buck, settled dow n with his aim on a neck shot. At that rang e he could not miss. He killed the buck , skinned it, and then loaded the meat in th e hide and carried it back to the cabin.

  He could smell the coffee, and the baco n was frying.

  When he brought the meat into th e cabin the first thing he noticed wa s Laban's slicked-down hair. Ruthie ha d tidied herself up, and so had Evie Teale.

  The table had a red and white checkere d cloth on it, and it was all set and proper.

  Suddenly he was self-conscious.

  He was unshaven for days, and he ha d been sleeping out wherever he could find a place. He had not paid much attention t o anything more than combing his hair an d washing up a mite.

  I'll wash up, he said . Excuse me .

  He stripped off his coat and shirt, rolle d up his sleeves and washed, combed hi s hair by guess work in the piece of flawe d mirror alongside the kitchen door, the n shook out his shirt, put it on, and cam e back in.

  Sorry, ma'am, he said , it's too dar k to shave .

  That's quite all right, Mr. Conagher.

  Please sit down .

  After his own cooking, any food taste d good, but this was excellent. There wer e two slices of bread on the table and he wa s eating the second before he suddenl y realized there was none for anyone else.

  He ate the piece in silence, cursing himsel f for being a fool.

  You've got a nice place here , h e commented . I see you have some calves .

  She explained about the cattle . Bette r let me brand them for you, Mrs. Teale.

  There will be other herds coming through , and unbranded cattle surely have a way o f coming up missing .

  I'd be pleased, Mr. Conagher .

  When he got up to walk outside afte r supper, Evie glanced around at him. He was certainly a fine figure of a man whe n you really looked at him. He was tall, wit h wide shoulders, and he had an easy way o f moving that was more like a woodsma n than a rider. And he seemed sure o f himself without in any way appearin g bold.

  There had always been the shadow o f worry under Jacob's seeming assurance , and she was sure that Jacob, deep inside , had never really believed in himself. He was prepared for failure despite the fac t that he was so stern, so hard-working, an d so demanding of dignity.

  She knew next to nothing about Con n Conagher, only that he was reported to b e a top hand who asked no favors of anyone , a grim, hard man ... a man to leave alone , as McCloud had said.

  She knew he had ridden into the bac k country and brought back cattle tha t belonged to the ranch he worked for, cattl e that he must have taken back from som e pretty dangerous men. Yet he seeme d strangely shy, and gentle. Thoug h that had been true of several men sh e had met who were reputed to be dangerous.

  She made her bed upstairs with th e children, and Conagher slept on the floor.

  When she awoke in the morning an d saw that he was gone, she was suddenl y frightened. It had been so reassuring t o have him here, and she realized that fo r the first time in months she had slep t soundly.

  She was dressing when she heard th e sound of a gun, and then another. Sh e managed to get down the ladder and ge t water on for coffee before he came.

  Shot a couple of turkeys , he said.

  They're in good shape .

  All that day Conagher worked aroun d the place, and he kept thinking of the gir l who wrote the notes tied to the tumbleweeds.

  If he was going to find her he kne w it was time he started on, but he stayed t o brand the calves, he helped Laban wit h some heavy logs well back on the ridge , and he killed another deer.

  You can jerk the meat , he said, an d showed her how to cut it into thin strip s for drying.


  Twice he rode out, studying the countr y around. Jacob Teale had picked a poo r place to settle, and would have failed her e as he had elsewhere. There wasn't enoug h grass in the nearby meadows to cut fo r hay, and the grazing was not as good as o n the old Ladder Five range.

  One evening Evie was coming in fro m milking and he was sitting on the stoo p watching the sun set on the hills . It i s very beautiful, Mr. Conagher , she said.

  I like to watch the wind on the grass .

  He started to answer that, and the n stopped. Kris Mahler was riding into th e yard.

  MAHLER pulled up when he sa w Conagher, and the expression o n his face was not one of pleasure.

  I figured you'd pulled your freight , he said . I heard you quit the Old Man .

  His horse side-stepped a little, and whe n he straightened him out again he went on , A lot of good it did you, riskin' your nec k for him. There's a couple of good me n gone because of it .

  Not because of what I did , Conaghe r replied; ?because of what they tried to do.

  As for what good it did me, I was jus t doing my job, the way I'll always d o it .

  You think I didn't do mine ?

  You can answer that question bes t yourself. You ran out on the Old Ma n when he needed you. You joined up wit h his enemies .

  That's a damn lie !

  There was a time when I'd hav e reached for a gun if a man said that to me , Conagher said , but you know whethe r I'm lyin' or not, and I know it, so what yo u say doesn't make a bit of difference .

  Mahler stared at him, his expressio n cold and mean . I never liked you , Conagher , he said . You're not my kin d of man .

  I take that as a compliment .

  Mahler turned his horse sharply an d rode away. Conagher watched him go , then turned to Evie Teale . I am sorry fo r that, Mrs. Teale. I believe he came to se e you.

  It doesn't matter .

  After a moment she said , I wa s surprised, Mr. Conagher. They told m e you were a quarrelsome man, yet yo u avoided trouble .

  I don't want to fight him. He's a to p hand when he works, a good man who i s on the verge of being something else. Bu t you were present , he said . I wouldn't want to fight with a lady present .

  Thank you.

  They walked to the cabin together, an d he held the door for her. After she went i n he sat down on the stoop again.

  The last of the sun was gone, and th e first of the stars had come. The night win d was bending the grass, and his eye s studied the hills. There was somethin g restful in this, sitting here in the evening , the day's work done, the sounds of suppe r being prepared inside, the low murmur o f voices. It was something he'd missed . . . h ow long since he had lived in a hous e with a woman in it?

  Not since I left home , he said t o himself , not since I left my aunt an d uncle when I was fourteen .

  Grading camps, cow camps, minin g camps . . . the women you found ther e weren't his kind. He was a lonely man wh o did not make up to people easily. It cam e hard. When he was with women he neve r thought of anything to say. It seemed as i f all he knew was stock, range conditions , and the stories of some fights, and thes e didn't add much to his conversation.

  He felt that he should be saddling u p and riding onit was no good stayin g here. Yet he did not move. He watched th e stars come out, and thought of Mahler.

  The man had a burr under his saddl e about something. About a lot of things , maybe. Why hadn't he gone with Smoke?

  Why had he stayed behind?

  An idea came to Conagher, but he shie d away from it. Kris Mahler had nothin g against him ... or shouldn't have.

  Still, he was riding it rough tonight. Ha d he been trying to pick a fight? Or was he sore because he found Conaghe r here?

  Was he sweet on Evie Teale? When yo u came right down to it, she was a finelookin g woman. A nice shape to her, an d pretty, too.

  Well, she was pretty. Maybe not t o everybody's taste, but she was to his. Sh e was a handsome woman, he thought. An d it took sand to stay on a place like this wit h two kids, and no money coming in. It too k real old-fashioned grit.

  By rights he should saddle up in th e morning and pull out. If he was ever goin g to track down the girl who wrote thos e notes he was going to have to do it befor e his money gave out, or before somebod y else got there first.

  He told himself he would get going i n the morning, but he did not feel ver y positive about it.

  The trouble was, he suddenly realized , that he was comfortable, and he could no t remember how long ago it had been sinc e he was comfortable.

  The door opened suddenly . Mr.

  Conagher, supper is ready , Evie said.

  All through supper he sat there wantin g to say something and he couldn't find th e words. Finally he said , I reckon I'd better drift. I can't sponge off yo u forever .

  You've helped, Laban said . I can't shoot straight enough to kill much game.

  We never had turkey before .

  Sometimes you can kill them with a club. I've seen it done .

  Evie Teale stared at him, but when h e looked up she glanced away quickly , blushing for some reason he could no t imagine . I know you must have much t o do , she said . I ... you have helpe d us .

  She looked at him suddenly . We wer e having a bad time, you know .

  He took out some moneynot that h e had so much left after laying in th e supplies he had bought . Look, I'll b e coming back this way. Maybe you'd bette r take this so you'll have something for m e to eat when I come back.

  I mean, I don't want to pay you, but I want to feel free to come back .

  You don't have to leave money , Evi e said . You can come any time. We hop e you will . Then, not to seem too forward , she added , We don't have muc h company now that the stages do not sto p here. It is very lonely .

  Yeah . . . sure, it must be .

  He rode out in the morning. At the las t he did not want to go and he waited , wanting her to ask him to stay, no t knowing whether he dared say anythin g about it to her. Why had he been such a damn fool as to say he was leaving? He ha d no reason to leave, when it came righ t down it to. He was just going huntin g tumbleweeds . . . what kind of a silly ide a was that, anyway?

  Was he a kid to go dreaming about som e fancy princess or something? Som e beautiful girl who was held prisone r somewhere? What was he thinking of?

  All right, suppose those notes did sa y something to him? That was no reason t o be a fool. He wasn't a kid any more.

  If he had any brains he would turn righ t around and go back, but he kept riding on.

  He was riding east, and he wasn't eve n looking at the tumbleweeds. Twice h e passed places where they were piled alon g the brush-lined road, but he did not stop.

  What did a man say to a woman lik e that? Suppose now, just suppose h e wanted to settle down . . . what would h e say?

  When night came he had not answere d the question, and it was time to mak e camp. He reined his horse off the road , crossed over a low ridge and into a n arroyo. His horse shied suddenly an d when he looked ahead he saw the skeleto n of a man. It was too dark to make ou t clearly, and the coyotes had been at it, bu t there it lay, and nearby were the bones of a horse, much of the hide still clinging to it.

  And there was the saddle.

  He rode on a little farther, found a corner among the junipers and rocks, an d settled down for the night.

  The gent back there . . . that was ho w he'd die, most likely, and who would give a damn? When you rode alone you die d alone, and there was nobody to do right b y your bones.

  Well, mister, he said aloud , I'll d o right by you. Come daylight, I'll go bac k there and dig you out a grave. That's wha t I'll do .

  Sleep came only after a long time o f watching the stars. He saw the Big Dippe r wheel around the sky, swore at hi s wakefulness, and finally fell to sleep. I t was broad daylight when he awoke and th e dun horse was nudging his toes.

  He got up, dressed, and built a smal l fire. He
boiled some coffee and fried a piece of venison, and when he had finishe d eating he got up, wiped his knife off on th e seat of his pants, and shoved it back in th e scabbard. It wasn't like Mrs. Teale's grub , but it was all right, it would do.

  When he had saddled up he took hi s Winchester and walked back to the dea d man.

  By daylight the story was plain enough.

  The horse's leg was broken, snapped righ t off, and the position of the saddle and th e crushed bones over the chest showed hi m all too clearly what had happened.

  Somebody, an Indian most likely, ha d taken his rifle and pistol, if he'd owne d them.

  When Conagher had the grave dug h e took hold of the skeleton and as he move d it he stirred some of the sand and reveale d part of a coat still intact beneath the body.

  And partly under the edge of the coat an d buried in the drift sand that had blow n over it, were the dead man's saddlebags.

  They were stiff and dry, the edge s curled and turned kind of white, like th e saddle itself. He pulled them apart whe n he couldn't get the stiff leather strap t o come loose, and a shower of gold coins fel l on the ground.

  Startled, he stood for a moment lookin g down at them, then glanced aroun d quickly.

  But there was nobody, he was all alone.

  He squatted on his heels and picked u p the coins. He counted up to three hundre d and twenty dollars, then shook out th e saddlebags again. Five more gold eagle s fell on the ground, and he picked them up.

  Four hundred and twenty dollar s more than a year's wages, right there in hi s hands. And it was his, finders ar e keepers.

  He looked through the remains of th e saddlebags, but if there had been an y letters or papers they had fallen apart an d been blown away. He completed th e burial, made a marker of a couple of bi g stones, and then mounted up.

  Four hundred and twenty dollars! He was going into town and he was going t o have himself a time. He was going to hav e one good blowout in his life, anyway, on e at least.

  He rode to Socorro and headed for a cantina.

  The stage was standing on the street , and Charlie McCloud was boosting a trunk toward the top. He glanced around , saw Conagher, and said , Hey, give me a hand here !