by P McCormac
Sometime later as he neared the ranch he was challenged by an armed lookout. When Alward told him he had urgent news for Catlin he was waved through. The man who answered his knock on the door looked askance at the newcomer.
‘What the hell, fella? You stuck your head through the spokes of a buggy wheel while it was still turning? Come on in.’
A dark-haired, young woman came out of a room and blinked owlishly at Alward.
‘Howdy, Miss Catlin. I’m Alward Gallagher.’
She frowned at him. ‘Gallagher’s son! What happened to you? Where is your pa?’
‘He’s dead, ma’am. I buried him today. I was bringing him here when we were attacked and Pa was killed.’
Another man came into the hall. Alward recognized Cogan, who had been at the old mine-shack with O’Leary.
‘Did I hear you right?’ Cogan asked. ‘Gallagher dead . . . killed?’
Alward nodded and then leaned wearily against the wall as exhaustion swept through him. Cogan moved swiftly to his side.
‘You look in a bad way, fella.’
‘Take him in the kitchen, Marcus,’ Catlin said. ‘We’ll get Frank to patch him up.’
‘No time, ma’am. Your sisters are coming,’ Alward managed to say before he sagged against Cogan.
‘Go on, Marcus,’ Catlin urged. ‘Take him through. I’ll come as soon as I find Frank.’ She turned to Alward and said in a gentle tone, ‘You can tell it all then.’
The process of removing Alward’s makeshift bandages was painful and time consuming. As Frank Carter worked on him, he tried to tell as much as he knew of the impending attack on the ranch.
‘The letters I took off the dead messenger mentioned a gathering of men to make up an attacking force. Gertrude and Rachel are teaming up with Monday. I think when all these riders are in place, they intend to attack the ranch. I don’t know if the alliance will hold, for I managed to pass the letters to Alec. The one from Gertrude to Monday was very explicit. She wanted Monday to get rid of Alec and for her and him to take over.’
At that stage he passed out. When he came too, Carter was using a needle and thread to sew his cheeks together. Alward about passed out again. Cogan held a whiskey bottle to his lips.
‘Get that down your neck, kid.’
Alward gulped convulsively. The raw liquor burned its way into his stomach. He did his best to empty the bottle. It had very little effect in dulling the pain.
‘Never saw anything like it. There ain’t nothing I can do about the scars,’ Carter mused as he sewed. ‘You’re gonna look like hell. What happened to the fella as cut you?’
‘I slit his throat,’ Alward slurred his words, whiskey and weariness overwhelming him.
‘So you was that mad preacher boy,’ Cogan stated. ‘Even your own pa didn’t recognize you.’
Alward said nothing. The memory of the last few days was too painful. His head was whirling and he slumped back in the chair. The voices went on around him but muted as if coming from a long way away. He just wanted to sleep and then he remembered Monday and more than anything else he wanted to meet up with his brother.
CHAPTER 22
Catlin looked with some pity on the mutilated young man who had found his way to her ranch.
‘He’s out for the count,’ she said. ‘Carry him out to the bunkhouse and bed him down.’
Between them, Marcus Cogan and Frank Carter carried the unconscious Alward from the kitchen. When the two men returned, Catlin was staring out the window. She turned around to gaze at her partner, noticing how done in he looked.
Frank rubbed a hand across his face and left a smear of blood on his cheekbone. Catlin picked up a piece of cotton and came across and wiped his face.
‘The longer he sleeps the better,’ Frank told her. ‘I don’t know how he’ll feel when he wakes up and gets a sight of his ruined face.’
‘We’ll have to leave him sleeping it off out there in the bunkhouse for now,’ Catlin said. ‘We have done our duty by him. His father was a good friend to us. We can repay the old man by looking after his son.’ She sighed deeply. ‘Gertrude and Rachel are our main worry. It looks as if they’ll have gathered a small army out there. Any time now they’ll be coming down out of the hills to attack us.’
Frank placed his hands on her shoulders and gazed earnestly into her face.
‘We should ride out now – go somewhere well away from that evil family of yours.’
‘I . . . I can’t, Frank. Father’s not fit to travel. I won’t leave him. And nor is poor Alward. We can’t leave them. After all that has happened, they would just slaughter Pa and in all likelihood that young man you just patched up.’
‘That’s what I figured you’d say. In that case we’ll just have to fight.’
Frank turned from her and stared moodily out at the surrounding country.
‘Will the Mexicans help?’ he asked.
Catlin nodded. ‘I think so. Cardinalle came to dinner last night and I told him most of what was happening. He offered to hang around for a couple of days in case I need him and his men.’
Marcus Cogan had remained silent as this exchange was taking place. Now he spoke up.
‘I could ride out and scout around,’ he offered. ‘Try and find out what’s happening. Maybe give you warning when they start to move.’
‘Thank you, Marcus. You’ve been a good friend.’ Catlin gave him an appraising look. ‘You look much younger now without those whiskers—’
‘Take a fast horse,’ Frank interposed. ‘You’ll need a good mount in case they spot you and you have to run for it. I’ll organize things here. I think the best thing is to hole up in the ranch. They’ll have to come at us and we’ll be under cover. Send someone for the Mexican. Tell him we’re expecting an attack anytime. We can spread them round the barns and outhouses. I just hope they can shoot.’
When Cardinalle rode into the yard, Catlin and Carter greeted him and told him of the impending action. The Mexican cast a professional eye around the buildings. He nodded.
‘The ranch is defendable, but it would be bad strategy to concentrate all your forces in one place. Some of my men, like me, are ex-cavalry. If we conceal ourselves down by the creek, when the assault comes we can ride around the perimeter and harass the attackers. Caught between two lines of attack they might think they have bitten off more than they can chew and fall back. Once they do that you can move your men out from the house and press home an attack. Often when men are on retreat they sometimes keep on going. We push and push and push and madre dios, they break and run.’
Frank looked at the Mexican for a few moments before replying.
‘I sure wish I had your faith.’ Then he shrugged. ‘We’ve sent a man out to scout around. He may be able to warn us when the attack will come. My belief is that it will come sooner rather than later.’
‘Sí, señor, I will go and prepare my men. They will be glad to help. I would like to think you will continue ranching here and I can sell you many more horses.’
Catlin and Frank watched the Mexican ride away. They turned back to the house. Both stopped and stared at the gaunt figure in the doorway.
‘Father, should you be out of bed? You’ve been very ill.’
As she spoke Catlin moved up beside the old man. His white hair hung in untidy strands and his gaunt face had a waxen look.
‘Don’t try to bamboozle me, Catlin. I heard everything. Are they coming? Are Gertrude and Rachel coming for me?’
Gone was the distracted look of the insane. The bloodshot old eyes gazed wearily at his daughter.
‘Yes,’ she said simply.
His eyes clouded and he shifted his gaze to stare moodily into the distance.
‘I have brought much trouble upon my family. You especially, Catlin, have I wronged. My other daughters are vipers. If you will ready me a horse I’ll ride out and give myself up to them. Perhaps that will satisfy their deranged and unnatural rancour. You and Frank can live on here in peace.’
The old man stepped out into the yard. He ran his eye around the outbuildings.
‘What have you got that’ll burn?’ he asked.
Frank furrowed his brow in thought.
‘We got a few barrels of kerosene. Had fresh supplies in last week.’
O’Leary stalked around the yard, estimating distances and angles.
‘I notice you have a bow hanging in the parlour,’ O’Leary said at one point. ‘Is it just for show or can you use it?’
‘It’s mine,’ Frank said. ‘An Apache gave it to me when I cured his child of fever. I sometimes practice with it. Why?’
O’Leary eyed him for a moment.
‘You’ll have to let me have a free hand and lend me some of your men. We gotta prepare for a siege and I got some ideas of how to go about it.’
‘O’Leary, we’ve had our differences in the past,’ Frank said. ‘But I believe in letting bygones be bygones. You go ahead and do whatever you have to do. I bow to your greater experience in these things. I’m only a humble horse doctor.’
O’Leary gave back a tight smile.
‘Just show me where the kerosene is at,’ he said.
Eulitereo Cardinalle sat on a fallen log. Beside him, the river bubbled and splashed pleasantly. It was this creek that made the site of the horse ranch such a desirable location. His head vaquero Felipe was watching him with an earnest look in his face. They were obviously in the midst of a serious discussion.
‘I promised the woman I would help defend her ranch,’ Eulitereo said at last.
‘This is a gringo war, Eulitereo. We only contracted to deliver horses – not to fight in their battles,’ Felipe pleaded.
‘What do you suggest, Felipe?’
‘I say we ride. We ride for home. Let the gringos slaughter each other. Will your men thank you for taking them into a war not of their making? With the odds as they are, how many of us will survive? What will be easier to live with – breaking your promise to the gringos or watching your vaqueros being massacred in a foolish conflict?’
‘Madre dios, Felipe, when you put it like that it does not leave much room for manoeuvre.’ Eulitereo sighed heavily. ‘Tell the men. We ride out immediately.’
Felipe rose, but hesitated.
‘What about the herd, Eulitereo?’
Eulitereo eyed his second in command.
‘What about the herd?’ he asked.
‘Should we not take it into safekeeping? After all,’ Felipe shrugged expressively, ‘it would be a pity if it fell into the wrong hands or perhaps it might be left with no one to claim it.’
His boss shook his head.
‘You know, Felipe, it is a good job you did not become a bandit. You make a very dishonest vaquero. OK, round up the horses. We will take them to a safe place.’
CHAPTER 23
The rank smell of kerosene was strong in the air. By the time O’Leary had finished his preparations the two barrels of fuel had been used up. The barns and outhouses were strewn with straw soaked in the stuff. Roofs were doused in kerosene and soaked rags stuffed around the base.
O’Leary strode through the area directing and instructing the hands in the work. Gone was the deranged old man and in his place the bandit chief was taking charge.
‘I think they’ll just swoop down on the ranch and hope to overwhelm us by force of numbers,’ he told Catlin. ‘At first we’ll defend the outhouses as far as possible. If the attackers prove too strong our men will fall back to the main house. It’s a good stout building and should withstand an attack. Your sisters’ men will naturally take over the barns and snipe at us from there. When they are well entrenched that’s where the second part of the plan kicks in.
‘Frank will demonstrate his skills with that bow by shooting fire-arrows into the barns. That will flush them out into the open and we can mow them down.’ O’Leary looked speculatively towards the creek. ‘Hopefully when they see the smoke, your Mexicans will attack. Unless they come on when they hear the shooting. It’s a pity I weren’t here to instruct them.’ He turned back to Catlin and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘We’ll give them such a thrashing they’ll run for their lives and never bother us again.’
He flung one arm wide and his face broke into a broad smile.
‘Then we’ll rebuild all this again. We can have a first class horse ranch – the best in the territory.’
‘Oh, Pa, it’s so good to have you back again. I was so worried about you. We’ll send Gertrude and Rachel running with their tails between their legs. We can have such a good life here.’
The sight of a racing horse and rider heading for the ranch took their attention.
‘If I’m not mistaken that’s Marcus,’ Catlin said with a slight quiver of apprehension. ‘The way he’s riding that horse it probably means they’re on the way. Well, we’re ready for them. Let them come.’
‘Marcus?’ O’Leary asked.
‘Cogan, you remember your old scout, Marcus Cogan.’
‘What the hell’s Cogan doing here?’
‘He’s been a staunch friend, Pa. It was him as got you away from Rachel and Gertrude. They’d put a price on your head.’
It was indeed Cogan. He rode into the yard, his horse all lathered up and jumped to the ground almost before the horse had stopped.
‘They’re coming,’ he yelled. ‘And there’s a helluva lot of them.’ He stopped at the sight of O’Leary. ‘Howdy, boss. You OK?’
The two men stared at each other for a moment.
‘Get your horse away, Hard Hill, or should I say, Cogan?’
Cogan grinned sheepishly. ‘I don’t care what you call me, Keane. It’s just good to see your old self again.’
‘I’m putting you in charge of the outside defences, Cogan. Frank and me will defend the house. When it gets too hot you’ll retreat back up to the house. But not afore you put up a stiff resistance. We got a few surprises for those bastards. When we see you coming in we’ll cover you from the house.’
‘Good to have you back, boss. I’ll not let you down.’
Cogan gave a mock salute.
O’Leary replied with a bleak grin, ‘Good to have you back, Cogan. I don’t think I ever seen you without your whiskers afore. You’re an ugly son of a bitch.’
‘I reckon we could be kin, you and me, we’re so goddamn ugly,’ Cogan told him.
O’Leary was already walking towards the house. Impulsively Catlin stepped towards Cogan and kissed him on the cheek.
‘Thanks for everything, Marcus.’
Cogan stared bemusedly at Catlin before turning to a group of armed men milling about the barns. He began hustling some of them towards the outer fence. Each man was armed with a rifle. Cogan spaced them out along the fence rails.
‘They’ll come in across the flat there,’ he told them. ‘You don’t fire until I tell you. I want you to aim at the horses’ heads which is about midpoint on a rider. That way you’ll either hit the horse or hit the rider, depending on whether your shot goes high or low.’
There was some muttering from the men.
‘I ain’t shooting at no horses,’ one eventually voiced his objections.
Cogan realized his mistake. These men were horse wranglers. They made their living herding and caring for horses. His instruction to aim for the horses was like asking them to murder members of their own family.
‘I didn’t say aim for the horse,’ he corrected. ‘I said aim over the horse’s head. Now don’t worry. You ain’t expected to hold them here. When they get close enough,
we fire a few volleys to slow them down and then we retreat to the outhouses. Then if they press too heavily we fall back to the house.’
A shout from one of the wranglers drew everyone’s attention. The man was pointing out past the fence. There was silence as the men followed the direction of his pointing arm.
‘My God!’ someone said.
A dark mass of riders could be seen pouring down the hill beyond the meadow.
‘Jeez, there’s hundreds of the bastards!’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Cogan bellowed. ‘There ain’t that many. We’ve got the advantage of cover. Now get ready. Some of you kneel down and rest your weapons on the middle rail. The rest do the same on the top rail. Whatever feels right. Let them get close. No firing until I give the signal. Make every shot count. They’re goddamn cowardly bandits. Show them you ain’t afraid and they’ll turn tail and run.’
Despite Cogan’s best efforts to reassure the defenders, with a few exceptions they looked shaken. They were horse wranglers pure and simple. Fighting off a band of marauding bandits was not what they had signed on for. The oncoming horde of riders looked as if it filled the horizon. Cogan strolled up and down behind the men.
‘Remember what I said,’ he told them. ‘No firing until they are in range. Once we break the charge they’ll scatter and run. It’ll be a duck shoot.’
As he looked out at the oncoming pack even Cogan did not feel very confident. He jumped onto the fence and climbed as high as he could.
‘Come on, you goat-turds,’ he yelled. ‘We got plenty lead to send you back to whatever hell you come from.’
As if in response to his words the mass of horsemen began to shift and change. It spread wider and wider across the field of vision. Cogan stared in puzzlement at the oncoming riders. The outer wings of the pack began to curve inwards. Then he knew what the movement meant.
‘Goddamn it,’ he muttered, ‘they’re gonna try and surround us. They’ve got enough manpower to surround the goddamn ranch.’
CHAPTER 24
