3
Matt had begun to think he was wrong about finding traffic on this road. The sun had already passed its zenith and was sliding down toward the western horizon before someone finally came along, and then it was not the public coach he'd been expecting but a rattling buckboard with a woman and two small boys in it. He had started walking toward that distant horizon several hours earlier and was dusty and footsore.
He set his gear down and stepped out into the road so the lady would have little choice but to either stop her team or run him over. She looked at first like she would elect to trample him under the feet of her two browns, but at the last moment she pulled them to a halt. Matt touched the brim of his hat respectfully, then took it off and held it in both hands.
“Ma'am. I'm surely glad to see you. I wonder could you give me a ride to the nearest settlement? I'm afraid I've lost my horse.” He smiled, one of his twenty-four-karat smiles that was pretty much guaranteed to melt the heart of any young lady, even a married one such as this.
She looked nervous, so he pointed to his gear piled beside the twin tracks of the road and added, “A body just hasn't any notion how much stuff he's carrying until he's the one carrying it himself.”
When even that didn't appear to sway her, he ratcheted up the intensity of the smile another notch or two and said, “I'd be happy to pay for your time and trouble, ma'am.”
The older boy, who looked to be nine or ten, nudged his mom's elbow and whispered something to her. The lady's expression did not soften, but her posture did. A little.
“My husband is not with us,” she announced, as if he could not see that plain as day.
“No, ma'am.”
“Are you a married man?”
“No, ma'am, I'm afraid I haven't the privilege of finding my life's companion yet,” he answered.
The boy whispered to her again.
“It would shame me to ask payment for a simple kindness,” she said.
“You never asked for anything, ma'am. I offered,” Matt reminded her.
“I, uh. . . .”
“It'd be a true kindness,” Matt said. “I am a stranger in need.”
“Well. . . .”
“Please, Mama. He says he'd pay!” The boy turned his attention to Matt. “How much you gonna pay, mister ?”
“Why, I don't know. How far is it to town?”
“It's pretty darn far,” the kid said.
“Jason! It is not.” The lady looked at Matt. “It is only a few more miles really.”
“My feet tell me that's a few miles I'd rather not walk. I'll pay you anything within reason, ma'am, and be glad for your help.”
“Then put your things in the back and get on. You can let the tailgate down and set on that if you like.” Which would keep him as far away from her and her boys as it was possible for him to get and still be riding. He took no offense. She did not know him from Adam's off ox.
“Thank you, ma'am.” Matt tugged his hat on and hurried to get his saddle, bedroll, and saddlebags.
The springy boards at the back end of the little wagon would have made a splendid diving board for jumping into the swimming hole back home, but every time the rig hit a good bump Matt felt like he was going to be thrown off. He would have felt considerably better if he had something to wrap his legs around and dig his spurs into.
The lady had been telling the truth about the distance, though. A small townânot Tucson but some outlying communityâcame into view within five miles or so. Matt swiveled halfway around so he could get a look at the place as they approached it.
The town was not much for size, but it made up for that by being drab, dingy, and weatherworn. All in all, Matt felt, it would be a fine place to be from. Far from.
Still, if there was a horse here that he could buy, he would be grateful. He wanted to get started after Sam Two-Wolves at first light on the morrow if that were possible.
He spotted a large barn at the near edge of town that was probably a livery barn. If so, there was a good chance his transportation problem could be resolved before supper.
He turned further around and said, “Ma'am, you could drop meâ”
Before Matt could finish the sentence, however, there was a flurry of hoofbeats and two riders came pounding out from behind the livery. The lady shrieked and the smaller of her two boys began to scream. The older child, who would scarcely have stood waist high on either rider even if the newcomers had been afoot, jumped to his feet and lifted his little fists like he was ready to do battle. With both of them at once.
“Move aside,” the lady shouted once she got herself back under control. “Jason, you sit down. At once, do you hear me. And not a peep out of you either, Derek,” she snapped at the smaller child, which sent him into near hysterics. “Mr. Voss, Mr. Trudell, I will thank you to move out of my way. At once, if you please.”
“What if we don't please?” the larger of the two drawled with an insolent sneer. The man was probably in his middle thirties, heavily muscled, although with a telltale bulge above his belt that suggested soft living and easy work. The gun tied down on his left thigh hinted at the sort of work that might be.
His partner was a few years younger and a little leaner, but looked to be in the better shape of the two. He too wore a revolver like he fancied himself a top hand with a gun. His holster was held down with a strap and buckle instead of a plain thong, and the leather on belt and pouch was tooled in an oak-leaf-and-acorn pattern. Matt suspected a fancy gun belt like that would set a man back a month's wages or more.
Both wore their hat brims tugged low. And neither offered the common courtesy of tipping those hats to the lady.
“Mr. Dwight wants you to sign that paper he gave you, Delia,” the older man said. “He said I'm t' bring it back with your mark on it or he'll know the reason why.”
“The reason there will be no signature,” the woman called Delia responded, “is because I am not selling. Not now, not ever, and not at any price he could come up with.” She set her lips in a thin line and nodded her head for emphasis, the movement abrupt and unequivocal. “Now I shall ask you again, Mr. Voss. Move aside. I have business in town.”
“Goin' to the bank, are you? They won't loan you no more money. I can tell you that right now, Delia. You got no choice. You're through here. With or without that signature, Mr. Dwight intends to have that miserable little place o' yours, so's you might as well take the money he's offered. It's either that or you'll be put off with nothing in your pockets but lint.” Voss grinned, an expression that lacked any hint of mirth.
“You leave my mama alone,” Jason shouted.
“Shut your yap, kid, else I take you over this saddle an' lay my quirt across your backside.”
“Leave my sons alone,” Delia said. The words were brave enough, but there was a quaver in her voice now, and Matt could sense the rise of panic in her.
Matt stood up in the back of the wagon. He was smiling, but there was no more friendliness in his expression than there had been in Voss's.
“Who are you?” Voss demanded.
“Just a passing stranger,” Matt said, his voice and manner easy although his blue eyes had turned to ice.
“Then keep on passing by, mister. You got no dog in this hunt, so don't be foolish an' get yourself all busted up for nothing.”
“Or worse,” Trudell put in. “Push us and you could get yourself shot down dead.”
“I never did have much sense,” Matt said cheerfully.
“What's that mean?”
“It means that I decline your advice.”
“Huh?”
“I'm stepping in on the lady's side of things. Now turn around like good little fellows and go tell your boss that Miz . . . ma'am, forgive me for being bold, but what may I say your name is?”
“Borden,” she said. “Delia Borden.”
“Thank you, ma'am. I'mâ”
“Your name is mud, that's who you are,” Voss snarled, “and you are a dead man or soon fixing to be.”
“Excuse me, ma'am, but would you mind driving over there out of the way, please.” Matt hopped down to the surer footing of the ground, leaving his gear in the back of the buckboard. He did not know how these horses might react to the sound of gunfire, and did not want to worry about keeping his footing in the back of a moving wagon while there was lead flying around.
“Now, boys,” he said pleasantly. “Let's us three discuss this situation.”
4
“You got one last chance, mister. This ain't your fight. Turn and walk away now while you can.”
Matt only shrugged.
Voss nodded to his partner, and Trudell tossed his reins to the larger man and dismounted.
“Last chance, mister,” Voss said. “This here is James Trudell. He's the fastest gun there is, and if you don't leave be, he will show you just how fast he can be.”
“I appreciate the advice,” Matt said. “Now I will return the courtesy, and my advice to you would be to leave that lady alone. The both of you and your boss. Leave her be. Permanent.”
“The only thing permanent,” Trudell said, “will be the marker we put over your grave. What name do you want carved on it?”
“Bodine,” Matt said softly. “Matt Bodine.”
Trudell blanched, his skin suddenly pale and sweaty. “I . . . I . . . uh. . . .”
“If you aren't going to draw, friend, suggest you unbuckle and drop 'em. Just to make sure there is no misunderstanding. I just hate mistakes, don't you?”
“Look, I, uh. . . .” Trudell bent over and began frantically digging at the thin strap that held his holster tight to his thigh. He managed to get it off, then undid the belt buckle and let the whole affair fall into the dirt. He held his hands wide from his body and backed two paces away.
“Jimmy? What's the matter with you?” Voss demanded, his voice sharp with anger. “Why'd you go an' do a thing like that?”
“You never heard of Bodine and Two-Wolves? Well, I have. I ain't dumb enough to fool with them.”
Matt gestured toward a well that stood in the shade of the livery. “Let's all of us walk over there, shall we? Mr. Voss, you can come down off that horse, please. Or drag iron. I don't much care which.”
Voss looked confused.
“Ben! Get
down,
will you?”
Voss rather reluctantly stepped down from the saddle.
“Give those horses to Mr. Trudell, please. Ah. Thank you. Now if you would be so kind, I'd like you to drop your gun belt too.”
Voss looked at Trudell, who was still sweaty and gulping for breath. “Do it, Ben. Please.”
The big man handed the reins of both horses to James Trudell, then unbuckled his gun belt and eased it to the ground.
“Thank you, gentlemen.” Matt picked up both belts and carried them to the well. Without ceremony he tossed them in, James Trudell's very expensive rig along with Ben Voss's plain one. There was a perceptible delay before he heard a distant splash. “That seems to be one problem solved, doesn't it,” he said.
“Like hell it is,” Ben Voss roared. “You're the next thing gonna go down that hole.”
The big man balled his fists and lowered his head.
He charged straight at Matt, blood in his eye and with his hackles raised.
Matt stepped quickly to the side to avoid the rush, but Voss proved to be a better fighter than gunslinger. The big man was ready for Matt's maneuver and adjusted for it, lashing out with a roundhouse left that caught Matt on the point of his right shoulder, numbing that arm and making him wince with the sudden pain.
Voss whirled and came in again. Matt danced lightly to his right. His left fist shot forward, impacting high on the side of Voss's jaw. Voss stopped and pawed at his face, shaking his head as if to clear it. Matt stepped in and hit him with the left again, high, and thenâstepping forward so the two men were nose to noseâwhipping a hard uppercut that snapped Voss's head back and glazed the big man's eyes.
Matt threw the left again, an underhand blow to the pit of Voss's soft belly. Voss doubled over and Matt clubbed him behind the ear, driving Voss to his knees with a trickle of blood running out of his ear. The big man clutched his middle and began to vomit into the dirt. It took no special abilities to see that he was done with this fight.
“Stop! Stop this.”
Matt spun around. His right hand was still virtually useless as feeling had not yet begun to return to his arm, but neither James Trudell nor the handsomely dressed man who was running toward them would likely know that.
Matt splayed his fingers wide and pumped his right hand into fists over and over, trying to encourage feeling. Trudell was little threat with his fancy pistol rig at the bottom of the well, but the newcomer was armed.
“Stop.”
“Watch yourself, Mr. Dwight. This is that Matt Bodine fella. He's faster than a snake with that gun, and he just whipped Ben and only used his left hand to do it.”
Dwight skittered to a halt and gave his two employees a dirty look, then shifted his attention to Matt. “I want you to work for me, Bodine. I can use a man like you.”
“Oh, I kind of doubt that, Mr. Dwight. I kind of think you and I come down on the opposite sides of the fence here.”
“We don't have to. . . .”
“Oh, but we do,” Matt corrected him. He nodded toward Delia Borden, who with her boys in tow was coming to join them now that Dwight was on the scene. “You see, Mrs. Borden and I are going into business together.”
The idea caught the lady as much by surprise as it did Dwight. Both parties looked confused.
“You want something that the lady here doesn't want to sell,” Matt said. He smiled. “As it happens, I already owe her a little money. So I think what I am gonna do here is get her to sell me whatever it is that she doesn't want you to have. And I will hire her back to, um, run it for me.”
“You don't even know what it is but you want to buy it?” Dwight asked incredulously.
“Exactly,” Matt told him. “In fact, Mrs. Borden and I can walk right over there to the post office and get a bill of sale notarized and mailed off to the clerk of whatever county this is. That will make me an official partner in the deal and you won't be able to get hold of it, or put her off of it, without my signature on the deal.” Matt's smile became even wider. “And mister, if you thought you were having trouble getting her to knuckle under, just wait until you try and force me into something.”
“I just want . . .”
Matt stopped him with an upraised palm. “Mister, I don't even want to know about it. But Mrs. Borden and I can discuss any propositions you might make. Maybe she would want to offer a deal where you could sort of rent whatever it is you're wanting. If it wouldn't interfere with her. And if it brought it a tiny flow of income. Which she would also administer on my behalf.” The smile turned into a grin. He turned to Delia Borden. “How are we doing with this, ma'am?”
“I . . . he wants to own the rights to a spring on my property. I can't let it go. I depend on it to water my garden and help keep my chickens. I need that water.”
“But do you need all of it?”
“Well . . . no. Perhaps not.”
Matt turned to Dwight. “Make the lady . . . I mean, make
me
. . . an offer if you want the use of some of that water.”
“I suppose, um, I suppose I could run a cross-fence that would allow my stock to drink from one side of the pond there.”
“What do you think that would be worth to you?”
“As it is, my cattle have to walk mighty far to water. It keeps them from gaining like they should. With water closer to hand, I would think”âhe paused to consider for a momentâ“I could pay ten dollars a month for the privilege.”
“Twenty,” Matt countered.
“The added weight gains wouldn't be worth that,” Dwight said. “Could we compromise? Would she . . . that is to say, would you . . . accept fifteen dollars each month?”
“Year round?”
Dwight nodded. “All right. Winter and summer alike.”
Matt turned to Mrs. Borden and lifted an eyebrow. The lady began to cry. “You don't know, Mr. Bodine. You don't know what you have done for us here.”
Matt looked back to Dwight. “I'd say you got yourself a deal. You can pay the first month's rent now. Mrs. Borden will be collecting it for me, you understand. And mister . . . it wouldn't set well with me if I had to come back here and sort things out a second time. Like if I ever hear that you aren't living up to your end of the bargain. Do we understand each other?”
“I, uh, I believe that we do, Bodine.”
“Good. Now if you will excuse me, sir, the lady and I have to go conduct some business so's I can get on about my own affairs.”
Matt stepped over beside the wide-eyed and obviously adoring little boys and guided them toward their mother's buckboard.
Nice family, he was thinking. He wondered just how much he ought to pay them for the ride in to town. And for the property he seemed to be buying this afternoon.