Johnny McCabe (The McCabes Book 6)

by Brad Dennison

  One of the men lying down said, “I’d feel better if this boss of your’n was paying us in cash. Not in cows.”

  “Cows is as good as cash in this country. You know that.”

  “I ain’t no cowboy. I’d feel better with cash-in-hand.”

  The man kneeling by the fire set the kettle back down and said, “He’s got a point.”

  A horse stirred, and another whickered.

  The man by the fire said, “Hold it. Something’s out there.”

  “Now,” Johnny glanced to Matt, then he called out, “You’re surrounded! Don’t anybody move!”

  The ones lying down sprang to their feet and were all drawing guns.

  Goullie fired, catching one of the men squarely in the forehead. Joe’s Enfield barked from off in the darkness at the other side of camp, and a man’s head snapped to one side and the man went down.

  Johnny rose up from behind the rock and shot at the man by the fire. The bullet took the man’s hat off, and he returned fire. Johnny dove to one side, his hat falling away, and he fired again.

  Matt went on his belly beside the rock and propped himself up on his elbows, and he cut loose with two shots.

  The man who had been by the fire had a rifle and was jacking in a cartridge. Goullie got him.

  The last man standing fired toward Johnny but his shot was wide, and Johnny put a bullet into the man’s chest. The man took a couple of steps backward and then fell.

  And it was over. The men by the fire were on the ground. The horses were panicking and pulling against their hobbles. The cows were on their feet but in running from the gunfire, they came right quick to the canyon wall and could go no further.

  Johnny stepped into the camp. Gun smoke was drifting overhead in a small cloud, and the noise of the gunfire was ringing in his ears.

  He looked over to Matt, who was on his feet and coming in. Goullie stood up, holding onto his arm. Joe was walking into the camp. His rifle reloaded and ready to fire if any of the rustlers was playing possum.

  “You hit?” Johnny said.

  Goullie nodded. “Not bad, though. I think it just grazed me.”

  One of the men wasn’t dead, though. He lifted his head and his gun, and Johnny didn’t realize it until he heard the man cock his gun.

  Joe swung the Enfield around and fired. The man rolled over and was done.

  Johnny had switched guns so he was holding one that was fully loaded, and he held it ready. Matt had popped a freshly loaded cylinder into his own gun, and he stood by Johnny.

  “So now,” Matt said, “we still have two questions.”

  Johnny said, “Just who is it they’re working for.”

  “And are there any more of them outside the canyon?”

  Johnny and Goullie did a quick count, and they found there were fifty-two steers in the canyon, all of them bearing the Broken Spur brand.

  Goullie said, “I don’t really know what to make of it all.”

  They brought their horses in, and Matt had stretched out by the fire with his head on the saddle and his saddle blanket over him, and he and was out cold.

  Goullie said, “We should get these cows back to the ranch. And these bodies. See what Coleman thinks about all of it.”

  Johnny nodded. “That should be the first order of business. But it’s not.”

  He looked to Joe and said, “Do you mind standing guard up at the top of this little canyon? In case there are any more raiders out there who might be returning to camp?”

  Joe shook his head. “I don’t mind at all.”

  “One of us will come up and spell you in a couple of hours.”

  Goullie said, “I’ll do it. Coleman has been riding you and Matt hard for the past few days. You both need more sleep than what you got last night.”

  Joe turned, and with his rifle in one hand, he started away for the edge of the canyon.

  56

  Johnny and Joe were on horseback, descending the long, low grassy hill behind the ranch yard, and Johnny heard a man call out, “Riders comin’!”

  Behind them came the herd. It didn’t take many men to handle fifty-two beeves. Matt and Goullie had it under control. Matt had learned a lot about handling cattle in just two weeks. Goullie had wrapped a bandana around the scrape on his arm that he had gotten from a bullet.

  Johnny was leading a small string of horses. Joe had another. Four of the horses were saddled, and the dead bodies of the outlaws were slung across them.

  Johnny could see men running across the ranch yard to watch them coming in.

  “Look at all the fuss they’re makin’,” Joe said.

  “That’s what you get when you do what we did,” Johnny said.

  There was no corral at the ranch large enough to hold fifty-two longhorns, but there was no need to. The range out beyond the ranch headquarters was open. Johnny looked back over his shoulder and called out, “Leave the herd out here!”

  Goullie nodded, and he and Matt headed them off and scattered them.

  Eight men had climbed the corral fences for a better view. Johnny saw Shelby and Chancey were there. Frenchie and Gates. Ciego came walking up, a heavy leather smithy apron tied around his middle. He had a big smile.

  Johnny and Joe led the horses down the low hill and into the ranch yard, and the men let out whoops and cheers. Shelby was waving his hat in the air.

  Ciego nodded and said, “Welcome home.”

  Johnny nodded back. “Good to be here.”

  Coleman was striding out from the main house, and he didn’t look happy.

  “O’Brien!” he called out.

  Matt and Johnny both were answering to that name, but Johnny figured Coleman meant him.

  Johnny reined up and said, “We’ve been in the saddle most of the day. Had a hard last couple of days.”

  “I don’t care. You disobeyed orders and it’s time you learned who’s boss around here. Get down from that horse.”

  Johnny handed the reins over to Joe, and swung out of the saddle.

  The men were gathering around. Shelby was standing beside Joe’s horse, and looked at him.

  Joe said, “Watch this.”

  Shelby shook his head. He was clearly worried, but Joe had no doubt about how this fight was going to turn out. Joe figured Shelby would have a new way of looking at Coleman once Johnny was done with him.

  Goullie and Matt came riding in.

  Goullie said, “Mister Coleman, what’s going on?”

  “You’re all fired. All four of you. After I get done with him.”

  Coleman was wearing a gun. Johnny’s Colts were at his hips, and they were fully loaded.

  Johnny said, “How do you want it? With guns, or fists?”

  Coleman unbuckled his gunbelt and handed it to one of the men. “I’m gonna give you a beating you’ll never forget.”

  He glanced about the men, then looked back at the house. Maria was standing on a second floor balcony.

  “You sure you want her watching?” Johnny said.

  “Might be good for her to see just what kind of man you are.”

  “Johnny,” Matt said. “Are you sure you should be doing this?”

  “Coleman has been asking for this.” Johnny began to unbuckle his gunbelt.

  But then something caught Johnny’s attention off toward the main house. He said, “Mister Grant’s coming.”

  The crowd parted to let Breaker Grant through. He was in a gray vaquero jacket and black pants. As always, a string tie was in place.

  Grant was giving a wide smile, and he said, “Welcome back, men.”

  He extended his hand and Johnny grasped it.

  Grant said, “You did good work, O’Brien. Did you get them all?”

  “As near we can tell, sir.”

  Johnny’s focus was on Grant, but he could see Coleman off to one side. It looked like Coleman was caught between being so angry he could bust and feeling a little embarrassed.

  Johnny had little pity for Coleman, but Grant had actua
lly made Coleman look small in front of the men. A man can’t be a leader if he’s made to look small. Johnny wondered if Grant realized what he had done.

  Grant said, “Come on in to my office. I want you to tell me all about it.”

  Johnny looked down at his pants and his range shirt. They were covered with dust.

  “Well, sir, we’re just in from the trail.”

  “No matter. Come on.”

  Grant looked at his son. “Coleman, check those bodies for any kind of identification. See if the men recognize any of them. Then send a rider into town for the sheriff.”

  Grant and Johnny started for the house.

  Coleman stood for a moment and said nothing, looking at the men. Then he said, “All right. Enough standing around. You all have work to do.”

  Matt and Joe were still in the saddle. As the men began dispersing, Coleman didn’t go to the bodies draped over the saddles but instead strode away. Off toward the barn. Matt didn’t know where he was going. Maybe Coleman needed to walk off his anger.

  Matt said, “So, I don’t know if this means we’re still fired, or not.”

  Joe shrugged. “Either way, the old man kicked Coleman’s legs right out from under him in front of the men. Don’t know if he meant to do that or not, but life for us could get a whole lot harder if we stay on the payroll.”

  Matt nodded. “I don’t think there’s much that old man does without meaning to.”

  57

  Johnny took one of the chairs in front of Grant’s desk, and he dropped his hat into a chair beside it.

  “I hate to be the cause of trouble,” Johnny said. “Your son Coleman ain’t very happy with my brothers and me. Or Goullie. He’s fired all four of us.”

  Grant was pouring a bourbon for himself and one for Johnny.

  Grant said, “Nonsense. Coleman gets himself fired up sometimes, but you boys aren’t fired. Not after what you did for my wife and then stopping those raiders. And Goullie’s not fired, either. He’s been here so long, he’s almost a part of the ranch.”

  Grant held out one glass of bourbon, and Johnny reached forward to take it.

  “When I was your age, I did things your way,” Grant said. He sat back in the chair behind his desk. “I wasn’t like you are with a gun. I haven’t really known any who are. But I would have ridden after those raiders, just like you did. You’re a man’s man, O’Brien. The kind of man I would have ridden with, back in the old days.”

  Grant’s eyes were alive with wonder. He said, “Tell me about it. The whole thing.”

  Johnny began with the two men he and Matt shot, and carried the story all the way to the small canyon up in the Nations and the shootout by the campfire.

  Grant was nodding and grinning the whole time. “Just like the old days. Now, I don’t so much own this ranch as it seems to own me. But back in the old days, I was like you and your brothers. On the back of a horse, doing the job that needed to be done. By any means necessary. There were others like me, back then. Nathan Shannon, for one, a little further south. Richard King. Charles Goodnight. Most of ‘em are gone now. Or old men like me who sit behind a desk and think about times gone by.”

  “I’ve got to admit,” Johnny said, “the size of this place still seems a little overwhelming to me. And this house.”

  Grant grinned. “A little more than what you expect from a ranch house, isn’t it?”

  Johnny nodded.

  Grant said, “There’s money to be made in cattle. It’s like gold. It just has to be delivered to the customer. Back twenty years ago, I was taking herds up the Shawnee Trail and then on to New Orleans, or St. Louis. Even brought a herd all the way to Chicago, once. That was a journey, let me tell you. But most of the money is made by delivering herds to the ports along the Gulf. Ship ‘em by sea to cities along the east coast. Bought me a shipping line, that way I get more of the profit. I ship everything, not just cattle.”

  Johnny nodded. “And you’ve mentioned a couple of gold mines, and that tobacco plantation in Cuba.”

  Grant smiled. “There’s a word. Diversify. That’s what I’ve been doing. I guess it could be said I have something of a head for business. And yet, I was never happier than when I was a small-time rancher with a small herd. The first two years I was here, I didn’t even have a house. Slept under the stars, or under a buckboard when it rained. Which it doesn’t do much in this part of Texas.”

  Grant reached for the cigar box on his desk. “I’m in the mood for a cigar. You want one, O’Brien?”

  “I sure wouldn’t say no.”

  Once Johnny’s cigar was smoldering in one hand, he said, “There’s something I’ve got to tell you. Something we overheard those outlaws talking about, before the shooting started. We haven’t told any of the men. We all agreed I should talk to you about it, first.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “They were referring to a man they were waiting for. A man they called their boss. Apparently he was paying them in Broken Spur cattle rather than cash, and they weren’t happy about it. We waited there for a day after the shootout, but no one showed up.”

  “So,” Grant said, holding his cigar in his hand and letting what Johnny was saying settle in. “You’re saying a man here is working with them?”

  Johnny shrugged. “I’m not really saying anything. I’m just telling you what we heard.”

  “Sounds pretty clear what they were saying, though, doesn’t it?”

  Johnny nodded. “It does seem to.”

  “We have a turncoat here.”

  “I don’t see any other way. We all talked about it before we came back.”

  “What does Goullie think?”

  “He said it has to be someone working here. But none of us can figure out who or even why. The cattle they stole, they can sell. There’s ranching and farming going on in the Nations. Indians who are taking up the white-man ways. If any of them aren’t too particular about the brands of the cattle, then there are small markets here and there. But nothing worth all of the risk that would come with stampeding a herd and trying to steal some cows. It just seems like a lot of risk for what wouldn’t be a whole lot of money.”

  Grant took a draw from his cigar. His brow was furrowed with thought.

  He said, “Do you think they were connected to the ones who tried to kidnap Maria?”

  “No way of knowing. Three of those four were killed, and the one I shot in the arm rode away but I can’t imagine he lived long. His arm was all torn up and he was bleeding bad.”

  Grant nodded and took another draw on his cigar. Johnny waited while Grant mulled it all over.

  “All right,” Grant said. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  “So far, except for you, only my brothers and me and Goullie know about it. Maybe we should keep it that way for a while.”

  “All right. Let’s see if we can figure this out using the process of elimination. I know it’s not you or your brothers behind it, because if it was, when you rescued Maria you would have been shooting up your own men.”

  Johnny nodded. “And I’m sure it’s not Goullie, because he killed some of the men at that canyon. And he seemed as surprised as the rest of us.”

  “That means it’s someone else. But I can’t imagine who. Some of these men have been with me a long time. Shelby. Clancy. Ciego. And there’s newer ones like Frenchie and Gates and Wheeler. A few others. I just can’t imagine one of them turning on me.”

  “I’d rule Ciego out because of lack of opportunity.”

  Grant nodded.

  Johnny said, “Matt’s idea, and I agree, is we should just not say anything. Not let anyone else among the men know what’s going on. Just keep watch. See if there are any more stampedes or any other kind of trouble. If there isn’t, then we know the four we got in the canyon were the last of ‘em. But watch for anything that doesn’t seem right.”

  Grant nodded. “You and your brothers and Goullie can do that because you’ll be right there among the men.”
r />   Johnny held one hand up in a stopping motion. “Goullie can do that. He’s loyal to you all the way. But my brothers and I’ll be riding on, as soon as we’re paid.”

  Grant said, “I’d like you all to stay.”

  “Well,” Johnny wasn’t sure how much he should say. “There are reasons we have to be moving on.”

  Grant got to his feet and paced a bit, then he stopped in front of the window and looked down at the ranch yard below. “You and your brothers will be safe here. I guarantee it.”

  Johnny said nothing.

  Grant turned to look at him. “I’ve got a confession. I know who you boys are. I did from the start. I rode with a Jake McCabe back in the Texas Rebellion, and I remember him well. Is he your father?”

  Johnny was silent a moment. Grant knew. Johnny realized he shouldn’t be surprised. He had the feeling there was little that got past this man.

  Johnny said, “He’s our uncle. Gave me my first brace of pistols. Taught me how to shoot.”

  Grant grinned and nodded. “I knew it. You have his look. I think your brother Joe would too, if he shaved off that wild-looking beard.”

  Johnny nodded. “Matt looks more like our ma’s side. That’s where we get the name O’Brien from.”

  Grant said, “I know about Missouri. There’s a reward poster for you in town. But your secret’s safe with me. All three of you will be safe here. I’d like it if this place could be a home to the three of you, for as long as you like.”

  “Well, that’s very generous, Mister Grant.”

  Johnny was about to say he would talk it over with his brothers, but Grant cut him off.

  Grant said, “I know you’ve been here only a short time, but you have shown real leadership. And the men fall into place behind you. They accept you as a leader as though it was the most natural thing on Earth. You’re a man not unlike myself. I like to think I know people.”

  Grant drew some more smoke, and said, “I would like to offer you the job of ramrod.”

  Johnny’s mouth fell open. He said, “I don’t know quite what to say.”

  “Then, say yes.”