Ralph Compton Ride the Hard Trail Read online

  “I don’t blame you, ma’am,” Lin told her, giving back her list. “In fact—” He stopped. Spurs had jangled near the front of the store. “Listen, Chancy,” he began, turning.

  It was not his brother.

  The man who had entered favored black: a black wide-brimmed hat, a black jacket, a black vest and belt and boots. The garb of a gambler. A nickel-plated Smith & Wesson in a studded black holster was slanted across his left hip, butt forward. His face seemed perpetually pinched, as if he were sucking on a lemon. A thread of a mustache adorned his upper lip. He ignored Lin and Abe Tucker and walked up to Etta June Cather, his mouth curling in a grin that was more of a leer. “Well, look here. My favorite female in all the world. I am right pleased to see you, Etta.”

  “I cannot say the same, Mr. Pike,” the ranchwoman responded. “Not if you are going to carry on again as you have been.”

  “I do not take no for an answer,” Pike said. He placed a hand on her wrist. “How about if you and me take a stroll and talk?”

  “We have nothing to talk about.”

  “Don’t be contrary,” Pike said, pulling on her arm. “You have been without male company for a long time now.”

  “Release me, if you please,” Etta June said. She tried to twist free, but his grip was too strong.

  “I will not,” Pike said. His leer widened. “Not unless you are nice.”

  Lin Bryce straightened and squared his shoulders. Balling his big fists, he said quietly, “Let the lady go.”

  Chapter 2

  Lin was as surprised as the others by what he had done. He’d vowed to tread lightly after what had happened in Cheyenne. He did not want to draw attention to himself—or to his brother. But here he was, butting in to a matter that did not concern him. Inwardly, he wanted to kick himself. He was a fine one to criticize Chancy.

  “What did you say?” the man called Pike demanded.

  “You heard me,” Lin said. “I will not see a woman abused by you or anyone else.”

  Pike looked Lin up and down. “Big talk for someone who does not go around heeled.”

  Lin stepped up to him, looming large. “Don’t let that stop you.”

  Abe Tucker quickly said, “I don’t want trouble in here.”

  “Stay out of this,” Pike snapped.

  “I will shut up after I say one more thing,” Abe said. “And that is that Seth Montfort won’t be none too happy to hear about how you are treating Etta June. Or don’t you care if you rile him?”

  “You are a nuisance, old man,” Pike said. But he released his hold and lowered his arm. To Lin he said, “I won’t forget this.” He touched his hat brim to Etta June, hooked his thumbs in his gun belt and departed with a swagger.

  Abe waited until the door closed to say, “You can always tell a blockhead. They go around with chips on their shoulders.”

  “Someone will knock his off one day,” Lin commented.

  Etta June smiled up at him. “I thank you for stepping in. It was awfully kind.”

  A warm sensation crept from Lin’s collar to his hair-line, and he knew he was blushing. “A man should not mistreat a woman.”

  “I wish I had some way of repaying your gallant gesture.” Etta June held out her hand and properly introduced herself.

  Lin did likewise, growing hotter. He did not use his real name.

  “He mentioned being in need of work,” Abe Tucker brought up.

  “You don’t say?” Etta June Cather’s brow knit. “I have been thinking of hiring someone. But I can’t pay much. Board and meals, and a few dollars when I have a few to spare.”

  “Are you offering me a job, ma’am?” Lin asked, breaking into a broad grin. He could not believe his luck. It was just what they needed. The thought sobered him. “Because if you are, I am afraid there is a complication.”

  “Oh?”

  “That scalawag who took your shopping list. Where I go, he has to go. As you saw, he needs looking after.”

  “So if I hire you, I have to hire him?” Etta June stared at the floor. She bit her lower lip, then said, “I suppose I could feed the both of you. But I am not so sure he is right for the job. How hard will he work?”

  “As hard as I make him. And you need not fret in any other respect. He will behave himself. I give you my word.”

  “You have that much influence over him, Mr. Gray?”

  “I like to think I do, yes, ma’am. And you can call me Lin.”

  “We will keep our relationship formal, if you do not mind,” Etta June told him. “And before you agree, there is something else you should know. I do not have a bunkhouse. You and your brother would have to sleep in the stable or out under the stars.”

  “That is nothing new to us, ma’am.”

  “I have hundreds of head scattered over a thousand acres. They need to be rounded up and branded, and then we can drive some to market. There is fence to put up. I might even have you build a bunkhouse so you will have a roof over your head.”

  “I am not afraid of hard work.”

  “Neither was my husband,” Etta June said.

  “Abe here told me about him,” Lin replied. “I am sorry for you. Losing someone you love is always hard.”

  “I warned Tom not to try to break that mustang alone. But he was prideful and had to prove to me that he could do it. So in a way I am to blame for his death.”

  “That is plumb ridiculous,” Lin said.

  Etta June gave him a sharp look. “Everything Tom did, he did for me. He came to Wyoming from Missouri because I wanted to live in the West. He bought our land because I wanted to have a ranch. He built our house to suit me. And he was breaking that mustang because I wanted more horses and we could not afford to buy them.”

  “It was the mustang that busted his skull, not you.”

  “I would rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

  “Certainly, ma’am.” Lin backed down the aisle. “I will go give the good news to my brother. How soon would you want us at your ranch?”

  “I intend to head back in an hour. You may accompany me if you still want the job.”

  “I will not change my mind,” Lin assured her. Pivoting on a boot heel, he ambled outside. He was so happy at the turn of events that he momentarily forgot about his clash with Pike. The sight of the gambler talking to his brother across the street reminded him. He headed straight for them, surprised to see they were smiling and laughing.

  Pike turned, his hand rising toward his revolver. “Well, look who it is. Mr. High-and-Mighty, as big as life.”

  “My brother?” Chancy said.

  “Your what?” Pike grinned as if it were humorous.

  Lin halted.

  “Him and me had words over in the store,” Pike explained to Chancy. “I can’t say as I like him much.”

  “I will not lose sleep over it,” Lin said.

  Chancy stepped between them. “Sheath your horns, Big Brother. I happen to like this hombre. His handle is Efram Pike, and we have a lot in common.”

  “You just met him.”

  “I can make friends, can’t I?” Chancy said. “He has invited me to play cards tonight.”

  “And have him win what little money you have?” Lin shook his head. “Besides, we won’t be here. We will be settling in at our new job.”

  “You found us work already?”

  Lin noticed that his brother did not sound particularly pleased. “On a ranch. The pay is not great, but we will eat regular, and it gives us time to hash over what we want to do.”

  “I know I do not want to ranch.”

  Pike said, “I don’t blame you. It is hard, brutal work. I did it for a while years ago and never had more blisters in my life.”

  “It is decent,” Lin said.

  “You make too much out of right and wrong,” Chancy responded. “And there are easier ways to make money than by breaking our backs.”

  “You don’t mean that,” Lin said.

  Efram Pike started walking off
. “I have better things to do than listen to you two squabble. If you care to join me tonight, kid, my invite holds. But don’t bring your brother. He puts on too many airs.” Pike glanced over his shoulder at Chancy. “And to prove I am not out to fleece you, leave your money with him. I will stake you in the game, and you will not need to pay me back.” He sauntered on into the saloon.

  Chancy glared at Lin. “You made a jackass of yourself just now. And a fool of me.”

  “You are the one who was rude to a lady.”

  “What the blazes does that have to do with how you talked to Pike?” Chancy swore. “You worry me sometimes, Big Brother. You can be worse than Ma used to be.”

  “Ma was as fine a woman as ever drew breath, and she would still be alive if—” Lin caught himself.

  “If not for Pa?” Chancy prompted. “Is that what you were fixing to say?”

  “We have about an hour before we head out to the ranch where we will work,” Lin said. “We should check that there is nothing we need.”

  “You didn’t answer me,” Chancy said.

  “Let’s not go into that again.” Lin crossed to the buttermilk. He opened first one and then the other of his saddlebags and rummaged inside, verifying he had enough coffee and jerky and whatnot. When his brother did not join him, he looked around. “What are you waiting for?”

  “I am not fond of your company at the moment.”

  “You are too prickly,” Lin said.

  Motioning in disgust, Chancy made off down the street. “I want to be by myself a while.”

  Lin opened his mouth to say something, but just then the door to the general store opened and out came Etta June Cather. She came to the hitch rail, raised a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun and studied him.

  “So.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Mr. Tucker will be a good twenty minutes filling my order. How would you like to take a walk?”

  “Me, ma’am?”

  “I am not addressing your horse,” Etta June said. “Why do you sound so surprised? Or is it that you do not like to walk with women?”

  “I guess I would be flattered to walk with you, ma’am,” Lin said.

  “You guess? For a man your size, you are not a mountain of certainty.” Etta June took a few steps and glanced back at him. “You can follow behind if you want, but it is easier to talk when we are side by side.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lin scooted over and matched his normally long stride to her shorter one.

  “First things first,” Etta June began. “I want to thank you for agreeing to work for me. I need a good man—a man I can depend on; a man who will not try to take advantage—and the way you stood up for me shows you are a gentleman at heart.”

  “Take advantage, ma’am?”

  “Oh, please. We are adults. I am a widow, and in the minds of some men, that is the same as wearing a sign on my back that reads ‘I miss it and I want it.’”

  “Dear God,” Lin said. “Do you always talk like this?”

  Etta June took off her floppy hat and swiped at a stray bang that fell over her left eye. “You are a grown man. I would not have suspected your sensibilities to be so fragile.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “I am frank in my speech but never coarse. If that offends you I am sorry but I cannot be anyone but me.”

  “Our ma never talked like you do, ma’am,” Lin said. Nor, now that he thought about it, had any woman he’d met. But then, he had not had words with all that many. He was always shy around females.

  Etta June halted and faced him. “That is another thing. Call me ma’am one more time and I am liable to scream. You may call me Mrs. Cather or you may call me Etta June.”

  “Yes, ma—” Lin caught himself. “Sorry. I was taught to always respect my elders and females.”

  “A commendable trait if not carried to excess.” Etta June resumed walking, her hands clasped behind her. “Now, suppose you tell me a little about yourself. I am taking a risk hiring on two strangers. My instincts tell me you are a good man, but I would like to know more about you.”

  Icy fingers clutched at Lin’s chest. “There is not much to tell. My brother and me were raised on a ranch. Our pa died about five years ago. Our ma died last year. We have been footloose ever since.”

  “You didn’t stay and run the ranch yourselves?”

  Lin realized he must be careful around her. She did not miss a thing. “We had to sell it. My pa left us in debt when he died, and we were barely ever able to make ends meet.”

  “I see.”

  Lin felt bad lying to her, but he had done so much of it since Cheyenne, the lying did not bother him as much as it used to.

  “It is not easy making a living these days,” Etta June sympathized. “I was lucky. My Tom believed in paying for everything with cash. No credit for him. When he died I had few debts. But I did not have much money, either, since we always spent what little we made.”

  “A thousand acres is a good-sized spread,” Lin mentioned.

  Etta June snorted. “In these parts it is nothing. Cody Dixon has two thousand. The Bar M has ten times as many, and even that is small compared to some of the ranches to the south. Why, I heard of one with close to a million acres. It is run by a syndicate. They sell more cows in one year than I will in my entire lifetime. Can you imagine?”

  “No,” Lin said.

  “But a thousand is enough for a family to get by if they manage their cattle smart,” Etta June went on. “My Tom was as smart as they come except when it came to taking advice about breaking mustangs.” She paused. “I refused to sell after he died although Seth Montfort pestered me to. Some men have the silly notion that women can’t run a ranch alone.”

  They came to the end of the street and walked past the last of the ramshackle buildings. Before them rose the foothills. Beyond were the imposing peaks that formed the backbone of the Big Horn range.

  “I love this country, Mr. Gray.”

  “Who?” Lin absently asked. He was entranced by the miles-high peaks, several with mantles of snow.

  “Didn’t you say that is your last name?”

  “Yes, sorry,” Lin quickly answered. But he was upset with himself. He had to be more careful or the truth might come out, in which case Etta June Cather would regret ever hiring them.

  Chapter 3

  The Big Horn Mountains were spectacular. Few ranges in all of Wyoming boasted higher peaks. More than a dozen were over nine thousand feet, with the highest over thirteen. Timber was plentiful, with firs and a sprinkling of aspens at the upper elevations, and spruce and pines everywhere else. Cottonwoods lined the streams. The valleys were lush with grass.

  For a rancher, the Big Horns were paradise. All the graze and water that cattle needed.

  But the Big Horns were so far from civilization, there were few settlements like Mason, and few ranches. The newspapers predicted that one day the whole region would have more spreads than stars in the sky, but for now the number was barely enough for a constellation.

  Lin Bryce drank it all in with a sense of wonder. He had seen mountains before, notably on a visit with his father to the Tetons when he was a boy. But that had been long ago, and his memory was fuzzy. In his estimation, the Big Horns were were as grand as nature got.

  Lin tried to put what he was feeling into words as he rode alongside Etta June Cather’s buckboard, but all he could come up with was, “They sure are something, aren’t they?”

  “God’s footstools,” Etta June said serenely. “I fell in love with them the first time I set eyes on them. They reach to heaven, and their heartbeat is the beat of life in all of us.”

  “You sure have a way with words.”

  “Thank you. If I do, I have my mother to thank. She insisted her children learn to read and write. She taught us mostly herself since there wasn’t a school within fifty miles.”

  Chancy, on the other side of the buckboard, stifled a yawn. “Mountains are mountains.”

&n
bsp; “You don’t see the splendor?” Etta June asked.

  “I see rock and snow and trees, lady. Hardly anything to get all excited about.”

  “It is true I am a lady, but you will not address me as such. I have a name. You make my gender sound like a disease.”

  “There are days when I think it is.”

  “Chancy, stop,” Lin intervened. “After she has been kind enough to hire us, you will treat her with respect.”

  “That is all right. I would like to hear him out.” Etta June smiled. “What is it you have against women, exactly, young Mr. Gray?”

  “They are strange.”

  “Strange how, pray tell?”

  Chancy appeared to be bothered by her questions. “Strange in every way. Women do not think like men, they do not act like men.”

  “Isn’t it good that we don’t? Would you want men and women to be the same?”

  “Women nag. Women carp. They pick and pick at a man until they have chipped out his insides. They tell him what he can and can’t do. They keep him on a leash and get mad if he dares take the leash off. They throw fits when they don’t get their way, and are forever shedding tears over one thing or another. They are a mess, and it is best for a man to have nothing to do with them.”

  “My word,” Etta June said. “Where did you ever get such a low opinion of womanhood? Surely not from your mother.”

  Lin quickly said, “Our ma was as sweet and kind a woman as could be. He did not get it from her.”

  “Ma was all right,” Chancy conceded. “But her sisters are harpies, and her own ma was worse. Bossy does not begin to describe her. The married men I have talked to say that is pretty much normal.”

  “I would say you have a jaundiced view,” Etta June said. “Women have a lot to recommend them.”

  “Not as far as I am concerned,” Chancy said. “I want nothing to do with any of you.”

  “Nothing at all? What about long walks on warm summer nights? Church socials and county fairs? Picking a flower for your girl, and her thinking you are the handsomest man alive?”

  “That is for fools drunk on perfume,” Chancy said. “I would rather be drunk on the real thing.”