is still in there. I’ve done all I can, but he needs a doctor.”
“He’ll see one tomorrow,” Boyd said. “At first light I’m leaving with him for Crooked Creek.”
“And I’m coming with you,” Fowler said.
Tyree looked at the man, his face alarmed. “Owen, do you think that’s wise? Quirt Laytham means to kill you, and Sheriff Tobin won’t lift a finger to save you. Those two are in cahoots, tighter than Dick’s hatband.” Ignoring Lorena’s annoyed frown, he added, “Owen, you stay here. I’ll ride into town with Luke.”
Fowler shook his head. “No, Chance, this has been going on for too long and it’s got to stop. Tobin is a sorry excuse for a lawman, I admit, but I’m going to demand he bring in the United States Marshal. Let the marshal investigate Laytham’s claim that I’m rustling his cattle.”
“Owen,” Lorena said quickly, “I’ll talk to Quirt. I’ll get this whole sorry mess cleared up. I’m still sure there’s been some kind of misunderstanding.”
Fowler’s smile was slight. “Thanks for the offer, Lorena, but I still think I’ll put my trust in the U.S. marshal.”
Tyree was about to object again, but Boyd cut him off. “Chance, I’ll be with Owen in Crooked Creek. People know me in town; they’ve known me for years. Nothing will happen to Owen so long so I’m with him.”
Despite his misgivings, Tyree conceded to himself that Boyd had a point. He’d been in the canyon country for over twenty years and by Fowler’s account was well liked and respected. It was unlikely Laytham would try to kill Owen while Luke was with him.
“Besides, Chance,” Boyd was saying, “if Lorena is wrong about Laytham and everything you and Owen have been telling me is a natural fact, you’re a marked man your ownself.”
“I’m not wrong, Pa,” Lorena flared. “I just know I’m not wrong about Quirt.”
“Well, anyhow, it’s settled,” Boyd said. “Come first light, Owen and me will ride this bull-stealing varmint to Sheriff Tobin and have him telegraph the marshal.”
“What are we going to do with him until then, Pa?” Lorena asked. “He’s in bad shape.”
Boyd drew his gun. “I’ll take him to the barn and tie him up good. He’ll be comfortable enough.”
Roy Will, who had been sitting through all this in a hurting silence, stood and turned to Lorena. He gestured at his bandaged shoulder and with the Western man’s inherent respect for decent women said, “I’m much obliged to you, ma’am.”
As Boyd prodded the rustler toward the door, Will’s eyes slanted to Tyree and flashed him a look of implacable, burning hatred. Then he was gone.
Tyree followed Boyd outside, glanced at the night sky and what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.
The moon was covered in blood.
Chapter 10
Boyd and Fowler rode out with their prisoner at first light. For the rest of the morning Tyree kept himself busy with chores that badly needed to be done around the ranch.
He spent a couple of hours cutting hay against the coming winter. He had just straightened up and hammered in place a sagging partition between two of the stalls in the barn when Lorena stepped inside.
Despite the heat of the day she looked cool and lovely in a green velvet riding skirt topped by a butterfly yellow shirt, her hair drawn back from her face with a ribbon of the same color.
Tyree, feeling sweaty and dirty, tossed his hammer into the tool chest and smiled. “You look wonderful today, like a meadow of wild flowers.”
Lorena dropped a little curtsy. “Well, thank you, kind sir.” She turned and nodded to her saddled horse, a basket tied behind the saddle. “I wondered if you would like to join me for a picnic.”
“I’d love to,” Tyree said, delighted at the prospect. “Just as soon as I wash up some.”
He stepped outside to a barrel topped up by water from the creek, loosened the red bandana around his neck, then splashed his face and neck. He ran wet fingers through his
“He’ll see one tomorrow,” Boyd said. “At first light I’m leaving with him for Crooked Creek.”
“And I’m coming with you,” Fowler said.
Tyree looked at the man, his face alarmed. “Owen, do you think that’s wise? Quirt Laytham means to kill you, and Sheriff Tobin won’t lift a finger to save you. Those two are in cahoots, tighter than Dick’s hatband.” Ignoring Lorena’s annoyed frown, he added, “Owen, you stay here. I’ll ride into town with Luke.”
Fowler shook his head. “No, Chance, this has been going on for too long and it’s got to stop. Tobin is a sorry excuse for a lawman, I admit, but I’m going to demand he bring in the United States Marshal. Let the marshal investigate Laytham’s claim that I’m rustling his cattle.”
“Owen,” Lorena said quickly, “I’ll talk to Quirt. I’ll get this whole sorry mess cleared up. I’m still sure there’s been some kind of misunderstanding.”
Fowler’s smile was slight. “Thanks for the offer, Lorena, but I still think I’ll put my trust in the U.S. marshal.”
Tyree was about to object again, but Boyd cut him off. “Chance, I’ll be with Owen in Crooked Creek. People know me in town; they’ve known me for years. Nothing will happen to Owen so long so I’m with him.”
Despite his misgivings, Tyree conceded to himself that Boyd had a point. He’d been in the canyon country for over twenty years and by Fowler’s account was well liked and respected. It was unlikely Laytham would try to kill Owen while Luke was with him.
“Besides, Chance,” Boyd was saying, “if Lorena is wrong about Laytham and everything you and Owen have been telling me is a natural fact, you’re a marked man your ownself.”
“I’m not wrong, Pa,” Lorena flared. “I just know I’m not wrong about Quirt.”
“Well, anyhow, it’s settled,” Boyd said. “Come first light, Owen and me will ride this bull-stealing varmint to Sheriff Tobin and have him telegraph the marshal.”
“What are we going to do with him until then, Pa?” Lorena asked. “He’s in bad shape.”
Boyd drew his gun. “I’ll take him to the barn and tie him up good. He’ll be comfortable enough.”
Roy Will, who had been sitting through all this in a hurting silence, stood and turned to Lorena. He gestured at his bandaged shoulder and with the Western man’s inherent respect for decent women said, “I’m much obliged to you, ma’am.”
As Boyd prodded the rustler toward the door, Will’s eyes slanted to Tyree and flashed him a look of implacable, burning hatred. Then he was gone.
Tyree followed Boyd outside, glanced at the night sky and what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.
The moon was covered in blood.
Chapter 10
Boyd and Fowler rode out with their prisoner at first light. For the rest of the morning Tyree kept himself busy with chores that badly needed to be done around the ranch.
He spent a couple of hours cutting hay against the coming winter. He had just straightened up and hammered in place a sagging partition between two of the stalls in the barn when Lorena stepped inside.
Despite the heat of the day she looked cool and lovely in a green velvet riding skirt topped by a butterfly yellow shirt, her hair drawn back from her face with a ribbon of the same color.
Tyree, feeling sweaty and dirty, tossed his hammer into the tool chest and smiled. “You look wonderful today, like a meadow of wild flowers.”
Lorena dropped a little curtsy. “Well, thank you, kind sir.” She turned and nodded to her saddled horse, a basket tied behind the saddle. “I wondered if you would like to join me for a picnic.”
“I’d love to,” Tyree said, delighted at the prospect. “Just as soon as I wash up some.”
He stepped outside to a barrel topped up by water from the creek, loosened the red bandana around his neck, then splashed his face and neck. He ran wet fingers through his
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