Johnny McCabe (The McCabes Book 6)

by Brad Dennison

  “A single man it is,” Joe said. “There was only one set of tracks.”

  “Doesn’t mean he was working alone,” Johnny said.

  Matt said, “We have a lot of questions, but no answers.”

  Joe’s pistol had taken some rain, so he popped out the cylinder and then took a dry one from his vest pocket. He checked to make sure the percussion caps were in place, then he placed the cylinder in the gun.

  Johnny said, “We’re going to have another problem. Coleman Grant. A rider was sent for him.”

  Matt looked at Johnny with a little surprise. “Do you think Coleman had anything to do with this?”

  Johnny shook his head. “I wouldn’t put anything past him. But even if he didn’t, just having him around makes everything a whole lot harder.”

  Joe nodded. “That man’s gonna have to be shot one of these days. Just sayin’.”

  It was Joe’s turn for Matt to look at him. “What do you mean? Do you mean murder?”

  “Just sayin’.”

  Johnny nodded at Joe. Matt hadn’t been in the West long enough to know how things worked. Johnny thought about how to put it into imagery Matt would understand.

  Johnny said, “You’ve told me something about that ship you served on as first mate. When you were out at deep sea, it sounds like whatever law you had was what was on the ship, and nothing else.”

  Matt nodded. “That’s the way it was. And in some of the seaports where we docked there was often no more law than the gun you carried, or the knife.”

  Joe said, “Not much different out here.”

  Johnny paced a bit, putting his thoughts together. “What if Coleman served on your ship? A swabby, or whatever you called them? He’s a trouble-maker, and no one you can trust.”

  Matt nodded slowly, as he thought this one over. “He’d wind up being keel-hauled. Or just plain pushed overboard. Or we’d find him in the morning with a knife in his back. I suppose I understand what you’re saying.”

  Johnny went back to pacing. He started wondering if there was any way they could start a small fire.

  Matt said, “So, what’s next?”

  “We wait out the rain here, then in the morning we see if there is anything left of that rider’s trail.”

  Breaker Grant’s body was in one of the guest bedrooms upstairs. It was on a bed and covered with a sheet. In the morning, once the rain stopped, it would be taken into the undertaker’s office in Clarksville.

  Coleman pulled the sheet back. The old man’s eyes were shut and he could have been sleeping, if not for the bullet hole in his forehead. Coleman could see what looked like powder burns around the wound. The front of the old man’s vaquero jacket and shirt were covered with a dark blood stain.

  Coleman heard boot soles scuffing in the hallway, and he looked over to see Wheeler standing in the doorway.

  Wheeler was in his early twenties. Hair that needed cutting, and scruff on his chin. He wore a gun at his right hip. Kind of nondescript. Not a man who would stand out in a crowd, but Coleman had found Wheeler was a man who wanted to play for the winning team. And Wheeler was good at identifying which team that was.

  Wheeler said, “I heard you were back.”

  Coleman looked down at the body. “Looks like he was shot from a distance. A body shot that took him down. He laid there bleeding while the shooter rode up and then put one more in his head.”

  Wheeler nodded. “That’s about what it looks like.”

  Coleman glanced to the doorway. It was empty. He said, “And there was no one else there?”

  “No, sir.”

  “There was someone else there, though.”

  Wheeler was looking at him, a little confused.

  Coleman said, “You were there, Wheeler. You rode out because you were concerned about my adopted father riding out there alone. He was an old man, and you were right to be concerned. And you saw the shooter. You heard the first gunshot, and as you got closer, you saw the shooter kneeling over the beloved Breaker Grant and putting the final bullet in him. But you were still too far off. By the time you could get to him, the shooter had mounted up and ridden off.”

  “Who did I see?”

  “Why, Johnny O’Brien, of course.”

  Wheeler shook his head. “Beggin’ your pardon, Boss, but ain’t no one would believe that. Johnny’s too well-liked here on the ranch.”

  “I know something about him that you don’t. I had him investigated. It turns out that our O’Brien brothers might very well be the McCabe brothers. You ever hear of them?”

  Wheeler shook his head.

  “There’s a reward poster at Sheriff Newcomb’s office in town. I checked. They’re wanted for murdering a town constable and robbing a general store in Missouri last winter.”

  “Do tell.”

  Coleman nodded. “Indeed.”

  “You and me, we talked once, about how I might make a good ramrod of this place.”

  “And indeed you shall, Wheeler. As soon as O’Brien is out of the way. Or McCabe, or whatever his name is. First thing in the morning, I want you to ride into town and get Sheriff Newcomb.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And also Harmon Jones.”

  “The family attorney?”

  “The very one. I have something he will need to witness.”

  Maria came walking into the room.

  Coleman said, “That’ll be all, Wheeler.”

  Wheeler nodded and left.

  “Coleman,” she said. “I heard you telling Wheeler to get the sheriff.”

  He nodded. “Turns out there was a witness to the shooting, after all. Johnny O’Brien will probably get the noose for it. Or Johnny McCabe, as the case may be.”

  “You know?”

  He smiled. “I suspected. But, of course, you knew. And you were more than willing to let my father harbor an outlaw, without him even being aware.”

  “Breaker Grant knew all about Johnny and his brothers.”

  Coleman gave a tired-looking grin. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. And I suppose there won’t be a whole lot of people who will believe a man already wanted for murder would be incapable of murdering again.”

  “Johnny didn’t shoot Breaker.”

  “Oh, but indeed he did. And whatever relationship you have been having behind the old man’s back won’t paint you in a very good light.”

  “I have no relationship with Johnny. Other than that he’s a good friend.”

  Coleman smiled. “You forget, Maria. I know what you’re capable of.”

  He looked down at the body of Breaker Grant.

  Coleman said, “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re coming back to me, and things will be like they were.”

  She shook her head. “I was young and foolish. Naïve. That doesn’t excuse what I did, but I’ll never let you touch me again.”

  “Then, if you’re not here with me, you’re not going to be here at all. You’re going to sign your half of the ranch over to me. Harmon Jones will be coming out in the morning to witness it.”

  “I will do no such thing.”

  He looked at her. “Yes you will. Or I’ll break your neck, and then the entire ranch will be mine, anyway.”

  He smiled. “You picked the wrong man, Maria. You chose Johnny O’Brien over me. Now you’re going to regret it. Once you sign the paper tomorrow, I will want you off the ranch. Immediately and permanently.”

  66

  The rain let up sometime during the night. By daylight, the sky was covered with a blanket of gray clouds and the wind was cold, but at least it was dry.

  Johnny and his brothers rode back to where they had left the trail. The tracks were gone.

  “Not a trace of it,” Matt said. “So, now what?”

  “He had to have a place to wait out last night’s storm,” Johnny said.

  Matt said, “There really aren’t any, other than the three line cabins at the far reaches of Broken Spur range, and the dugout we were in last night. Th
ere are plenty of places to camp, but not in rain like last night.”

  Joe nodded. “That means he was at the ranch, itself.”

  Johnny returned the nod. “Let’s head back.”

  They reined up at one of the stables and swung out of the saddle. Matt said, “As soon as we get these horses taken care of, I’m going to go sit by the bunkhouse fire and drink a cup of hot coffee.”

  “I’m with you on that,” Joe said.

  Johnny looked over at the main house. A buckboard was by the front porch, with some crates and a couple of trunks loaded on. He wondered what it was all about, but it wasn’t foremost in his thoughts. He was focused on the unpleasant task that was waiting for him.

  He said, “Before I go sit by a warm fire, I have to go tell Miss Maria that the killer got away. I told her we would find him, but we couldn’t.”

  Matt said, “You want us to come with you?”

  Johnny shook his head. “No. I have to do this myself.”

  He started on foot for the house. His spurs were jingling gently. He felt chilled to the bone as he walked along.

  A year ago, Johnny and his brothers had left Pennsylvania to find the man who had killed their father and Hector Drummond. They had failed. Johnny felt they had not only failed Pa and Mr. Drummond, but Ma and Luke, and Becky Drummond and her mother. And they had failed themselves. Now they had failed Breaker Grant and Miss Maria.

  Johnny went to knock on the door, but the door opened. Shelby was stepping out with the handle of a carpet bag in each hand.

  “Boss,” he said.

  “Shelby. You goin’ somewhere?”

  Maria stepped out behind him. She was in a hat and had a thick shawl about her shoulders.

  “Johnny,” she said. “We have to talk.”

  He nodded. He removed his hat and then reached up to flatten down any stray hair.

  He said, “We failed, Miss Maria. He got away. We lost his trail in the rain.”

  She said, “Johnny, Coleman’s here. He’s claiming you and your brothers killed Breaker.”

  Johnny blinked with surprise.

  She said, “Wheeler is working with him. Wheeler’s claiming to have seen the whole thing, from a distance.”

  “But we didn’t.”

  “I know that. We all do. But Coleman’s word carries weight. The sheriff’s in with Coleman now.”

  Johnny glanced back at the buckboard. Shelby was loading the carpet bags on.

  He said, “What’s that all about?”

  She told him about Coleman taking the ranch from her.

  “I signed the papers this morning.”

  “It’s not right for a man to threaten a woman. I won’t let this happen.”

  She placed a hand on his chest, as though to stop him. She said, “It’s all right. I thought about this all night. I thought about what you said to me last summer. I was so young and foolish. I didn’t know what I wanted, and Coleman took advantage of it. I can’t believe I ever let a man like that touch me. But I let him take advantage of me, so I’m to blame too. I decided I don’t want this place, considering the only way I could have it would be to be with him.”

  “But this was your home.”

  “I’ll forever carry my memories of what Breaker and I had. And I’ll carry the shame of how I betrayed him. But I’m going to be the woman you seem to think I am. I’m going back to my father’s ranch. I’ll run it alongside him. I’ll use my knowledge of business and cattle. I’ll make his ranch grow. You never know,” she said with a smile. “One day it might rival this place.”

  “Are you sure it’s what you want?”

  She nodded. “It is. And I owe it all to you. You’re the one who started getting me to believe in myself.”

  He returned the smile. “You can pay me back by making good. Make your father’s ranch grow. If you marry again, marry well. Marry a good man, and marry him for love.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  She placed a hand alongside his face, and said, “And now you have to run. Coleman is going to be placing a reward on your head. Along with the one that’s already there. Run. Don’t let them find you. Don’t let them hang you for something you didn’t do.”

  They walked to the buckboard. She said, “Shelby’s going to drive me there. I also asked Ciego to come along. I’m going to see if Father can give them each a job.”

  Johnny glanced over toward the barn. Ciego had a horse saddled and was leading it toward them.

  Shelby said, “Most of the men are riding on. They don’t want to work for Coleman, especially now.”

  Johnny stood by while Shelby climbed up onto the wagon seat and took the reins. Ciego climbed into the saddle.

  He said, “Be safe, Mi Amigo.”

  Johnny nodded.

  Maria said, “Godspeed, Johnny McCabe.”

  He said, “And to you.”

  Shelby clicked the reins and gave a giddyap, and the wagon was off, with Ciego riding alongside them. Johnny stood and watched them make their way across the ranch yard and off to the trail, as Maria Carerra Grant headed off to her new life.

  67

  Johnny met his brothers on their way to the bunkhouse. He said, “We gotta ride.”

  Matt nodded. “Ciego told us what’s been going on. He saddled fresh horses for us before he saddled his own. We have to pack and be on our way.”

  They went into the bunkhouse and began fixing their bedrolls. There was no time to sit by a warm fire, now.

  Then a man stepped in. Matt recognized him as the lawman who had watched the fight between Johnny and Coleman, all those weeks ago.

  “Boys,” he said. “I’m Harris Newcomb. County sheriff.”

  Johnny nodded. “Sheriff.”

  “I’ll cut right to the chase,” Newcomb said. “Coleman Grant has a witness that says you boys shot and killed Breaker Grant. Specifically,” he looked at Johnny, “you.”

  Johnny nodded. “Miss Maria and Shelby told me.”

  “Here’s the way it is. Money is power. It ain’t fair, but it’s the way it is. Coleman Grant might be a bully and a back-stabbing coward, but he’s sole owner of the Grant estate and has all the power that money like that can buy.”

  Johnny nodded. “My brothers and I have little more than the money in our pockets.”

  “Look, I know you boys didn’t do it. If I was to lay money on it, I’d say Coleman hisself was somehow involved.”

  Newcomb took a moment, composing his thoughts. He placed his hands on his hips and looked down at the floor. Johnny waited. He glanced at his brothers.

  Matt was kneeling beside his bed and was in the process of rolling up his blankets when the sheriff walked in. Joe was standing by his bunk and had his hand on the hilt of his knife. Johnny shook his head no, and Joe took his hand away.

  “Here’s the way it is,” Newcomb finally said, looking back at Johnny. “Breaker and I were old friends. I worked for him at one point, when his ranch headquarters were nothing more than a couple of sod huts he used as a ranch house and barn, and a dugout for a tack shed. That was a long time ago.”

  Johnny nodded.

  Newcomb said, “I owed him my life a few times over, and he owed me his. But among friends, you don’t keep track. He thought highly of you, McCabe.”

  This caught Johnny by surprise.

  Newcomb said, “Yes, I know who you are. So did Breaker. Coleman has done some digging, and has pretty much figured it out too. But Breaker told me you were all good boys and he trusted you. That was good enough for me.

  “You see, boys,” he began to pace. “I’ve been a lawman a long time, but there’s two ways of looking at the law. There’s the letter of the law, and the spirit of the law. The letter of the law—well, that means just enforcing the laws the way they’re written on paper, whether they make sense or not. But the spirit of the law—that’s harder to work with. It means understanding what the lawmakers wanted and making sure the letter of the law doesn’t get you all tripped up and make you fal
l into some sort of injustice.”

  Johnny shrugged. “I’m not much into philosophy.”

  “Well, let’s just say I’m a spirit-of-the-law kind of man. I believe in justice. But I know the Broken Spur brings a lot of money into the town of Clarksville and into Red River County. Coleman is now the single richest, most powerful man in the county. In this part of Texas. The county will appoint an attorney for you boys, but..,” he shrugged. “To have justice, you have to have equal parties involved.”

  He looked at Matt and Joe, then back to Johnny. “I’m a friend of Harmon Jones, the lawyer in town who’s Breaker’s attorney. The three of us shared many a glass of whiskey, and Harmon, well, he likes to go on about legal theory. Especially when he’s had a little too much to drink. That’s where I get all this spirit of the law type of thinking.”

  Newcomb rubbed his thick, white mustache. “What I’m getting at, boys, is for you to be railroaded by Grant money wouldn’t be justice at all. And to extradite you to Missouri so you can be hanged there wouldn’t do any good, either.”

  Johnny didn’t know what to say to any of this. He glanced at Matt, who shook his head and shrugged at the same time.

  Newcomb looked at Johnny and said, “The thing is, a warrant for your arrest is going to be issued this afternoon, and I’m going to have to enforce it. I’m going to have to come after you. First thing in the morning. I trust you three will be long gone by then.”

  Matt said, “If you beg my pardon, sir, this hardly seems like justice.”

  “Son, sometimes you have to take justice as you find it. In this case, I’m afraid your brother not swinging from a rope is about the best you’re going to get.”

  Newcomb turned toward the door, then looked back at them.

  He said, “And one more thing. I know the judge issuing the warrant. He knows where the money flows from, but he also knew Breaker well, and he knows what Coleman is. The judge and I had a talk, and the warrant is going to be issued in the name of Johnny O’Brien.”

  Johnny said, “I appreciate that.”

  Newcomb nodded. “Ride safe, boys. Breaker Grant was a good judge of character. Don’t prove him wrong.”