The Devil's Roundup Part 4

She was, he thought, the loveliest woman he had ever seen. Her hair was a pale gold, her eyes a shade of gray that was almost green. She smiled as she turned away, and John Saber's eyes glowed with admiration.

Wes Cardigan chuckled. "She is beautiful, isn't she?"

Saber agreed. Cardigan went ahead into the big ranch kitchen, toeing a chair aside for Saber. Lila crossed to the stove and poured the coffee cups full, then pulled a chair back for herself. She sat across from them, arms crossed, regarding Saber with a frank appraisal that made him uneasy. He had the feeling that she could see right through him and lifted his coffee cup quickly to hide his discomfort.

"I was surprised to get your letter, Wes. 1 had no idea you were having trouble."

Cardigan traced a design on the oilcloth with his fingertip. "I had my share of trouble five years ago. 1 thought it was over, but 1 was wrong. This is something I've got to have outside help on. 1 can't take the law into my own hands and do it alone."

"1 met Buck Bodry and his wife on the way here. There's something off there..." His voice caused Lila to swing her eyes back to him.

"Does Bodry know who you are?" Cardigan asked.

"No. No one knows who 1 am." Saber set the cup down. "Wes, I'm a federal officer. 1 have to have more to go on than what you told me in your letter." He waved a hand. "I talked it over with the captain and took a month's leave, but he'll only sanction my acts here officially if 1 uncover something solid to go on."

Cardigan pounded the table with his fist. "John, I'm being rustled blind! So is every cattleman in the area."

"You've a sheriff, haven't you?"

"Agh," Cardigan said and reached for his coffee cup.

"It won't do any good to get angry, Wes," Lila said softly.

Cardigan scrubbed a big hand across his face, and blew out a long breath. He lit a cigar, then said: "When old man Ackerman died, he made arrangements for Buck Bodry to take over his spread... a hundred and thirty thousand acres."

Saber whistled. "That's a great deal of land for one man to control. I'm surprised the homesteaders haven't cut it up. After all, this is Eighteen Hundred and Eighty-Two and Texas is facing the end of an era."

"They won't cut up the Leaning Seven," Cardigan said grimly. "Bodry has his land patrolled now. A man isn't even allowed to cross it. Every time one of my riders crosses the fence, he gets a bullet thrown his way."

"Has he been hit bad by the rustlers?"

"d.a.m.ned if 1 know," Cardigan said. "He says he has, but who can tell? I want you to take a ride through his place, take a look around. There's plenty of holes up in those badlands where a whole herd could be hid out."

Saber fas.h.i.+oned a cigarette with great care. He lit it. "You want me to get shot?"

"Knowing you," Cardigan said, "1 don't think you would."

"No man is immune to a bullet," Saber said.

Lila said: "Tell him what Ed-John and Slats said, honey."

"It's a funny thing, John," Wes said, "but two of my 'punchers claim some of my rustled cattle have come back."

"How's that?" Saber asked, surprised.

Cardigan leaned forward and idly stroked his mustache. "The way I've got it figured is that they've been rustlin' my herd just about the time they're ready to calf They hold the cow until the calf is dropped, then keep the calf, and slip the cow back to me. That way there isn't anything around with my brand on it. It would take a big place to hide a herd of stolen calves. A man would also have to have a guard over his property because nothing is more suspicious than a growing calf crop... especially when they're bein' dropped two and three times a year."

"And you think Buck Bodry's hiding those cattle?"

"What else?" Cardigan said. "I thought for a while they'd been driven up into Arizona, but my riders swear they're bein' pushed back into the herd... minus the calves. Slats recognized one where he'd made a slit with his knife and cut the vent too long. Ed-John says he's seen three he knows particularly. When 1 got it figured out, l wrote you."

Saber gave it considerable thought, then said: "That's a new trick. I'll need a couple of good men who know the land and can shoot straight, if we have to."

"Willie and Burt Kerry," Cardigan said without hesitation. "Willie's the oldest, about twenty. The two of them know every foot of Bodry's place. They ran wild over there after my trouble with Ackerman was over."

"Fine," Saber said, and stood up. "I'll get an early start in the morning."

Cardigan shook hands with him, and Lila touched Saber on the arm. "I'll show you to your room." She turned, and he followed her down the hall.

He laid his hat squarely on the dresser top, tested the bedsprings with an outstretched hand. Lila stood in the doorway, the dying sun streaming through the hall window to outline her in her gingham dress. Saber pulled his eyes away from her quickly, thinking again of Edith Bodry and the gentle turn of her body as she sat beside her husband on the buckboard.

"Edith is a beautiful woman, isn't she?"

Saber's head came up quickly. He controlled his surprise with an effort. His first impulse was to deny that Edith Bodry filled his thoughts, but he changed his mind and admitted: "Yes, there's something about her. 1 noticed it right away."

"The girl made a bad bargain," Lila said evenly. "Don't blame her for it."

"How can 1 blame anyone? I don't know her."

"What is there to know about a woman?" Lila asked. "The first night 1 met my husband 1 knew that I would love him... it was that strong between us. I am not the only woman in the world who thinks like that."

"That's nonsense," Saber declared. "There is no place in my life for a woman."

Lila smiled gently-"Then 1 feel sorry for you, John."and closed the door.

Saber stared at the blank panel, puzzled by her words, and a little worried. His life was simple because he kept it that way. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling at his boots. Lila's voice carried through the house, and Saber paused as he heard her laugh.

It's been a long time since I heard a woman's laugh. Saber thought. He stretched out on the bed, falling asleep immediately.

II.

Bacon sizzled and the rich aroma of strong coffee carried through the house. Saber paused in the archway of the kitchen as Cardigan and the two young men at the table raised their heads.

"John, this is Willie and Burt Kerry. Boys.. .John Saber."

Willie was all bones and length, towering over his younger brother by four inches. His quick smile, brief handshake, and the worn .44 riding his hip told Saber that he was all business.

Burt gave Saber's hand the fleeting pressure of a man who considers handshaking a waste of time, and said: "Just in time for Lila's pancakes."

Saber slid back his chair, and ate his breakfast with a relish. Lila said nothing, nor did she give any indication of her thoughts, but Saber caught her watching him at least once when he raised his head.

"I've explained the deal to Willie and Burt," Cardigan said. "You can make any further plans you want when you get there."

"Where can we establish a camp and still remain undetected?" Saber wanted to know.

"The best place would be on this side of the fence, near Bodry's boundary line. There's some d.a.m.n' rough country up there, and a man can see for miles around him." Willie shoved back his chair. "We're ready, any time you are."

"All right," Saber said, and stood up. He turned to Wes Cardigan. "If there's any word, I'll send one of the boys back. It might be that I'm going to need help."

Cardigan nodded.

Saber gave Lila a smile, then placed his hat squarely on his head, and followed the Kerry boys to the barn.

Burt had saddled the livery bay, and Saber swung up, following them out of the yard.

They rode in silence for over a mile, then Willie asked: "You carryin' a gun?"

Saber smiled and nodded, dropping his eyes briefly to Willie's revolver. "What is yours?" he wanted to know.

"Merwin and Hulbert, Forty-Four. Wanna look at it?" He didn't wait for an answer but flipped it up and out, extending it b.u.t.t first to Saber.

Saber hefted it expertly, then reached under his coat, handing over a cedar-handled Frontier. Willie turned it in his hands, saying: "It's safe to shoot a little. Wanna try it out?" He nodded to the gun in Saber's hand.

Burt watched this with a deep interest, leaning forward intently to study Saber's face.

"Pick it out," Saber said, and turned his head to follow Willie's pointing finger. He saw the remains of an old campfire thirty yards away, the blackened coffee can placed alone on a flat rock. He nodded, and Willie c.o.c.ked the Frontier, sending his bullet slightly below and a little to the right of the can.

Saber's hand moved, and Willie's .44 blasted the morning air, the tin can tumbling off the rock. Willie shot again. The can sailed up, disappearing in the gra.s.s. Willie's grin was immense, a pleased slash across his face as he handed the gun to Saber. He slid his .44 back in his holster and said-"1 guess you'll do."-and lifted his horse into a trot.

They paused an hour later, and Willie Kerry pointed to a long slope dotted with bunch pine. "We can hole up in there. Plenty of rocks to hide us and wood for a fire."

"1'm satisfied," Saber said. "Settle down some place up there, and I'll take a ride over to Bodry's and have a talk with him."

"All right," Willie said, "but be careful. There's three men on Bodry's payroll that'll shoot first and question the corpse later... Bill Dent, Ernie Stiles, and Jules Lurch."

Burt said: "You'll know Dent because he's stocky and wears a pearl-handled gun, backwards. Stiles is taller than you, with brick-red hair. He don't wear a gun where you can see it. Lurch is new. 1 never seen him."

Saber listened to this with a smooth face, then nodded. "Expect me back by nightfall."

"And if you ain't?" Burt asked pointedly.

"Let's worry about that when the sun goes down," Saber said, and moved away at a lope.

He crossed the fence line a few minutes later, riding in a southeasterly direction. The land fell away from him in a shallow run, and he noticed the change in the gra.s.s. On the side of the hills, the sun had baked it a pale brown, almost yellow, and so it went for miles, uninterrupted by the seeps and springs that dotted Cardigan's range. Saber glanced behind him, seeing the b.u.t.tresses at his back looming. He studied the land around him thoroughly, letting a natural instinct within him catalogue each rise, each depression, until he understood it as well as the men who habitually rode it.

On his left a grove of stunted pines rose to break the monotony, and Saber gave their edge a sharp attention. When he saw the horseman at the fringe, watching him, he swung the bay's head, moving toward the rider at a brisk trot.

He recognized Edith Bodry with a start when he was a hundred yards away, but continued his gait, pulling up before her a few minutes later. He swept off his black hat.

Edith Bodry watched him with worry in her dark eyes and said: "It's not safe for a man to ride on this land."

"Do you wish me off, ma'am?" Saber's voice was pleasant, and an interest rose momentarily in her eyes-then was gone.

"My husband would be displeased should he find you here."

"From our brief encounter yesterday, I should judge that he finds little that does not displease him," Saber said.

"You've come from the Cardigan Ranch," Edith stated. "You couldn't be my husband's friend then."

"Has your husband many friends?"

"No," Edith said honestly, "he doesn't believe in them."

Saber looked at her boldly, and she did not flush beneath his gaze. He divined then that she welcomed his attention, and he dismounted, inviting her to do likewise by lifting his hand. She was a small weight beneath his hands as he lifted her down. The swell of her bosom, pulled tightly against her s.h.i.+rt-waist, caused him a moment's confusion before she stepped away.

"This is...all wrong," Edith said, but sat down. Saber lowered himself beside her, and plucked idly at the gra.s.s. "1 think Buckley hates you," she added.

Saber showed no surprise. "How could he? He doesn't know me!"

"Does one bull know another when he lowers his head and charges blindly? Whatever it is, he hated you before the first spoken word."

"1 hate no man," Saber stated.

"Perhaps not," Edith said, "but it won't stop him. You weren't impressed by him yesterday. It infuriated Buckley." She took a long breath. "For the first time in over a year, I was happy... for a moment."

She stopped, c.o.c.king her head to one side as if listening. Saber opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand, pointing to a rider some distance away.

"Ernie Stiles," she said. "Buckley has sent him after me."

Saber stood up, pulling her to her feet, her hand resting lightly on his arm. She watched Stiles, and Saber watched her, noticing how long her eyelashes were, and the way her full mouth pulled into a bow.

He said: "Since we are both riding in the same direction, I suggest we ride together."

Her face mirrored a fleeting panic, and she said quickly: "Oh, no. That will only mean trouble."

Saber smiled, and lifted her to her horse. "Both of us, 1 think, may claim trouble as an old friend." He swung up on the bay.

Ten minutes later they met Stiles. The man's red hair showed beneath the pushed back brim of his hat. It was a wild, disarrayed shock of hair, and Saber sensed that the other was proud of it.

Stiles kept his eyes on Saber and said curtly, disrespectfully to Edith: "Get back to the ranch house. Buck wants you."

Saber's eyes bored into Stiles's, and he said coldly: "If you are addressing the lady, her name is Missus Bodry. Now, repeat the message properly."

"What?" Stiles was genuinely surprised.

Saber crowded his horse near Stiles and whipped a hand up and across his face. A cold fury mounted in Stiles's eyes, but some warning in Saber's expression held him motionless. It had happened so suddenly, without warning, that he was uncertain. Saber took full advantage of that uncertainty. He lifted the reins, walking the bay around Stiles's horse, all the time cursing him, daring him to reach for the gun in his hidden holster. Stiles remained stiffened, hands half lifted, but made no further move.

Saber paused again in front of him. He snaked a large watch from his coat pocket and held it in the palm of his left hand. "I'll give you exactly fifteen seconds to dismount with your hat in your hand, and apologize. If you don't, you're a dead man."

Edith Bodry watched, wide-eyed, as Stiles dismounted carefully, hat held in hands that were not quite steady. He mumbled something, and Saber nudged the bay closer, kicking the man solidly in the ribs. Stiles staggered, but caught himself.

He shot Saber a loaded glance and said again, more clearly: "1'm sorry, Missus Bodry, but your husband's wantin' you at the ranch house."

"Now, get on your horse and get out of here," Saber ordered.

Stiles mounted, and said with a soft wickedness: "This is something 1 won't forget, friend."

"You're not supposed to," Saber told him, and made a motion of dismissal.