Read Online Ride for Rule Cordell by Cotton Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cotton Smith
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shoulder, then Hans’s shoulder.
Hans looked up. “I can fight, too, sir.”
“I know you both can.”
Emmett joined them and changed the subject to eating. They ate in silence as most western men did. Downing a venison stew, biscuits and coffee. The boys drank milk, fresh from their milk cows in the barn. Hammer enjoyed some leftovers in his bowl in the corner.
When they were finished, Checker said, “When I was coming here, I passed a fine-looking woman. She turned off. West.”
“That’d be Morgan Peale. Owns a little spread just on the far side of my pond,” Emmett said, savoring the last of his coffee. “She’s a widow. Real looker, she be. But tough as old leather. Kept that ranch a-goin’ after her man was killed. Hoss kicked him. Two years back, it were.” He took another sip. “We try to help out when we can. You know, spring roundup an’ such. Charlie Carlson over north o’ hyar, he does, too.”
“A.J., she’s got London Fiss riding for her,” Checker said.
Bartlett looked puzzled. “Wonder if she knows?”
To Emmett’s question, Checker explained Fiss had done time in prison for robbing banks and stagecoaches. The old rancher watched the Ranger closely as he spoke, then added, “You like that black man, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Any riders workin’ for you right now?” Bartlett changed the subject; his interest was obvious.
“No. Not now. I always hire short riders when we need ’em. Can’t afford no regulars. Not yet anyway. She’s got Fiss.Charlie’s got a few.” He looked around the table. “ ’Sides that, I’m growin’ my own.”
Both boys smiled and agreed.
“We work our beeves nice an’ slow. No need for them to wander. Good grass. Good water.” Emmett grimaced. “That’s why that devil woman wants our place. She’ll be after the others soon as we go down.”
“Got an idea I want you to chew on, Emmett,” Checker said, and pushed his chair away from the table. “But it’s one we’d have to act on quickly.”
“Well, I’ll sure listen. Andrew, ya call in Rikor, an’ stand lookout. Would ya do that, son. Shoot in the air if’n ya see anybody comin’.”
“Yes, sir.”
The three men walked into the main room and Checker outlined what had been forming in his mind. It was the same idea, but with more reasoning behind it. Waiting for Lady Holt to attack—in whatever way she decided—was not what they should do. Instead, they should leave. It would mean leaving the ranch and herd unguarded and accepting that the buildings would probably be burned. He thought the cattle would remain where they were; there was no advantage in moving them at this time. If they stayed here to protect the ranch, they would eventually be killed. All of them.
Emmett shook his head. “Worked awful hard to build this place.” He looked around the room. “Lot o’ memories here.”
“I know, Emmett. But we can rebuild it when this is over—an’ make a lot more memories,” Checker said. “First, though, we need to move the boys to a place safe. Away from here. Until we can figure out how to win this thing.” He glanced outside. “Thought about asking Mrs. Peale to watch them for a while. But I don’t think it would be right. That might bring her trouble.”
Bartlett settled into a big chair that had once been blue and was now mostly gray. He said nothing. Waiting.
“We’ll take ’em to Rule Cordell. He’s my nephew, you know. On my sister’s side,” Emmett declared, jutting his chin out in determination.
It was obvious he had agreed to Checker’s plan, in spite of his earlier statements. “Lives over in Clark Springs. Him an’ his wife. Raises horses. Does some fine preachin’ on the side. Or did. Think he’s outta that now.” He rubbed his unshaven chin. “His pappy were my sister’s husband. Cruel sonvabitch. A preacher, but I don’t think he knew much about God. Not really. Beat Rule somethin’ awful when he was a young’un. My
Hans looked up. “I can fight, too, sir.”
“I know you both can.”
Emmett joined them and changed the subject to eating. They ate in silence as most western men did. Downing a venison stew, biscuits and coffee. The boys drank milk, fresh from their milk cows in the barn. Hammer enjoyed some leftovers in his bowl in the corner.
When they were finished, Checker said, “When I was coming here, I passed a fine-looking woman. She turned off. West.”
“That’d be Morgan Peale. Owns a little spread just on the far side of my pond,” Emmett said, savoring the last of his coffee. “She’s a widow. Real looker, she be. But tough as old leather. Kept that ranch a-goin’ after her man was killed. Hoss kicked him. Two years back, it were.” He took another sip. “We try to help out when we can. You know, spring roundup an’ such. Charlie Carlson over north o’ hyar, he does, too.”
“A.J., she’s got London Fiss riding for her,” Checker said.
Bartlett looked puzzled. “Wonder if she knows?”
To Emmett’s question, Checker explained Fiss had done time in prison for robbing banks and stagecoaches. The old rancher watched the Ranger closely as he spoke, then added, “You like that black man, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Any riders workin’ for you right now?” Bartlett changed the subject; his interest was obvious.
“No. Not now. I always hire short riders when we need ’em. Can’t afford no regulars. Not yet anyway. She’s got Fiss.Charlie’s got a few.” He looked around the table. “ ’Sides that, I’m growin’ my own.”
Both boys smiled and agreed.
“We work our beeves nice an’ slow. No need for them to wander. Good grass. Good water.” Emmett grimaced. “That’s why that devil woman wants our place. She’ll be after the others soon as we go down.”
“Got an idea I want you to chew on, Emmett,” Checker said, and pushed his chair away from the table. “But it’s one we’d have to act on quickly.”
“Well, I’ll sure listen. Andrew, ya call in Rikor, an’ stand lookout. Would ya do that, son. Shoot in the air if’n ya see anybody comin’.”
“Yes, sir.”
The three men walked into the main room and Checker outlined what had been forming in his mind. It was the same idea, but with more reasoning behind it. Waiting for Lady Holt to attack—in whatever way she decided—was not what they should do. Instead, they should leave. It would mean leaving the ranch and herd unguarded and accepting that the buildings would probably be burned. He thought the cattle would remain where they were; there was no advantage in moving them at this time. If they stayed here to protect the ranch, they would eventually be killed. All of them.
Emmett shook his head. “Worked awful hard to build this place.” He looked around the room. “Lot o’ memories here.”
“I know, Emmett. But we can rebuild it when this is over—an’ make a lot more memories,” Checker said. “First, though, we need to move the boys to a place safe. Away from here. Until we can figure out how to win this thing.” He glanced outside. “Thought about asking Mrs. Peale to watch them for a while. But I don’t think it would be right. That might bring her trouble.”
Bartlett settled into a big chair that had once been blue and was now mostly gray. He said nothing. Waiting.
“We’ll take ’em to Rule Cordell. He’s my nephew, you know. On my sister’s side,” Emmett declared, jutting his chin out in determination.
It was obvious he had agreed to Checker’s plan, in spite of his earlier statements. “Lives over in Clark Springs. Him an’ his wife. Raises horses. Does some fine preachin’ on the side. Or did. Think he’s outta that now.” He rubbed his unshaven chin. “His pappy were my sister’s husband. Cruel sonvabitch. A preacher, but I don’t think he knew much about God. Not really. Beat Rule somethin’ awful when he was a young’un. My
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