Read Online Where the Deer and the Antelope Play (Code of the West) by Stephen Bly - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephen Bly
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for the brand now?” Wiley pressed.
“I don’t rightly know what they carry on any given evenin’, but every one of them girls can take care of herself,” Stack a ssured him.
Tap felt a draft. He rolled down his sleeves and buttoned them. “It would be good to have one of us here, just in case those outlaws double back or Fightin’ Ed comes raidin’ again.”
Wiley slapped the table with the open palm of his hand. “That’s exactly what I was thinkin’.”
“Stack, Wiley’s fixin’ up the tack room as a bunkhouse. You go on out and get some sleep. I’ve got to ride down to McCu rleys’ and try to catch up with a banker. There’s a little misunderstandin’ about an old bank loan. I’ll be back tonight, and we’ll light out by daybreak tomorrow. I figure if we can’t find their trail in three days, we won’t find it at all.”
Tap left the Triple Creek Ranch by midmorning. Selena, Danni Mae, Paula, and Rocky occupied the house while Stack and Wiley bunked out next to the woodstove in the barn. The low orange sun offered little hope for heat, and Tap’s teeth chattered as he bounced along with Onespot’s unsteady gait.
He’d like someone lighter in the saddle, but ol’ Brownie needed a little rest.
There’s nothin’ on my copy of the deed that says anything about a bank loan. Maybe he’s got the wrong ranch. Maybe he’s a huckster out workin’ the small-time ranchers. I heard about that fellow down near Durango who had ’em all co nvinced to pay him off.
I need to get Wade Eagleman to look into this. He’ll know what to do. But I can’t go to Denver. Every dream I’ve had in the past four weeks has been in Denver and me late gettin' to the wedding.
I’ll ride up north to Laramie City and send him a telegram. But Stack said that gang headed south.
The bones in his feet and hands ached by the time McCu rleys’ came into view. Tap longed for the big fireplace in the parlor and a hot cup of coffee. He pulled his saddle from Onespot, turned the black pony out in the corrals, and hustled to the solitary hotel, the only place for miles.
Bob McCurley met him at the front door wearing a heavy red flannel shirt. He hooked his thumbs into his suspenders. “Seen you puttin’ up Onespot. Figured you knew your way around the barn.”
“The amount of time I spend here I ought to rent stall space.”
“Shoot, me and the missus sort of figure you’re marryin’ into the family. Mama’s just about adopted that Pepper of yours.”
“Where is that yellow-haired girl?”
“Come on in and take some dinner.” McCurley tossed his muscled arm around Tap’s shoulder. “She ought to be back by the time you get the road chill out of your bones.”
“She’s not here?” Tap tugged off his deerskin gloves.
“Nope. Mrs. Franklin sent word that she was going to leave tomorrow to go to Ogden to have that baby of hers at her mother’s. So she needed Pepper to come out and get the final fittin’, or whatever, on that weddin’ dress. She said she’d be back by three at the latest.”
“I’ll just take you up on dinner.” Tap tried to shrug off the disappointment. “Is that Ft. Collins banker around?”
“He left his rig here and took the morning stage east.”
“Looks like I traveled all mornin’ for nothin’.”
“Pepper will be back later. Come on and get something to eat.”
Tap jammed his coat on a hook by the door. “Did you hear about the dance hall over at Pingree Hill burnin’ down?”
“You don’t say. Ain’t that where Pepper . . .?"
“I’ll tell you about it over meat and potatoes.”
Tap and Bob McCurley talked about the fire, the rustlers, and the banker’s demand for loan repayment for the next two hours. The only thing he didn’t mention was the fact that the girls now occupied the ranch. They were sitting in the parlor drinking coffee when McCurley finally had to excuse himself to do chores.
For the next hour Tap talked hunting with a dry goods dru
“I don’t rightly know what they carry on any given evenin’, but every one of them girls can take care of herself,” Stack a ssured him.
Tap felt a draft. He rolled down his sleeves and buttoned them. “It would be good to have one of us here, just in case those outlaws double back or Fightin’ Ed comes raidin’ again.”
Wiley slapped the table with the open palm of his hand. “That’s exactly what I was thinkin’.”
“Stack, Wiley’s fixin’ up the tack room as a bunkhouse. You go on out and get some sleep. I’ve got to ride down to McCu rleys’ and try to catch up with a banker. There’s a little misunderstandin’ about an old bank loan. I’ll be back tonight, and we’ll light out by daybreak tomorrow. I figure if we can’t find their trail in three days, we won’t find it at all.”
Tap left the Triple Creek Ranch by midmorning. Selena, Danni Mae, Paula, and Rocky occupied the house while Stack and Wiley bunked out next to the woodstove in the barn. The low orange sun offered little hope for heat, and Tap’s teeth chattered as he bounced along with Onespot’s unsteady gait.
He’d like someone lighter in the saddle, but ol’ Brownie needed a little rest.
There’s nothin’ on my copy of the deed that says anything about a bank loan. Maybe he’s got the wrong ranch. Maybe he’s a huckster out workin’ the small-time ranchers. I heard about that fellow down near Durango who had ’em all co nvinced to pay him off.
I need to get Wade Eagleman to look into this. He’ll know what to do. But I can’t go to Denver. Every dream I’ve had in the past four weeks has been in Denver and me late gettin' to the wedding.
I’ll ride up north to Laramie City and send him a telegram. But Stack said that gang headed south.
The bones in his feet and hands ached by the time McCu rleys’ came into view. Tap longed for the big fireplace in the parlor and a hot cup of coffee. He pulled his saddle from Onespot, turned the black pony out in the corrals, and hustled to the solitary hotel, the only place for miles.
Bob McCurley met him at the front door wearing a heavy red flannel shirt. He hooked his thumbs into his suspenders. “Seen you puttin’ up Onespot. Figured you knew your way around the barn.”
“The amount of time I spend here I ought to rent stall space.”
“Shoot, me and the missus sort of figure you’re marryin’ into the family. Mama’s just about adopted that Pepper of yours.”
“Where is that yellow-haired girl?”
“Come on in and take some dinner.” McCurley tossed his muscled arm around Tap’s shoulder. “She ought to be back by the time you get the road chill out of your bones.”
“She’s not here?” Tap tugged off his deerskin gloves.
“Nope. Mrs. Franklin sent word that she was going to leave tomorrow to go to Ogden to have that baby of hers at her mother’s. So she needed Pepper to come out and get the final fittin’, or whatever, on that weddin’ dress. She said she’d be back by three at the latest.”
“I’ll just take you up on dinner.” Tap tried to shrug off the disappointment. “Is that Ft. Collins banker around?”
“He left his rig here and took the morning stage east.”
“Looks like I traveled all mornin’ for nothin’.”
“Pepper will be back later. Come on and get something to eat.”
Tap jammed his coat on a hook by the door. “Did you hear about the dance hall over at Pingree Hill burnin’ down?”
“You don’t say. Ain’t that where Pepper . . .?"
“I’ll tell you about it over meat and potatoes.”
Tap and Bob McCurley talked about the fire, the rustlers, and the banker’s demand for loan repayment for the next two hours. The only thing he didn’t mention was the fact that the girls now occupied the ranch. They were sitting in the parlor drinking coffee when McCurley finally had to excuse himself to do chores.
For the next hour Tap talked hunting with a dry goods dru
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