Mojave Crossing (1964) by Louis - Sackett's L'amour Page B
Authors: Louis - Sackett's L'amour
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ranch. Don't you worry about me. You just get me there."
I taken him at his word. Those horses were fixed up and a-raring to go, and we lit out of there fast, high-tailing it down off that mountain.
We hit that little village at a dead run, and a moment after we raced through, somebody ran into the trail and yelled after us, but we headed across the plains toward the ranch. And he stayed with me.
Old and weak he might seem, but there was grit in him, and we almost ran the legs off those horses until we were within a hundred yards or so of the ranch.
There was gray in the sky and a light was going in one of the vaquero shacks, but we slipped in, and I got him back through my window. Then I got him into his own bedroom, and he locked the heavy bag in a closet at the head of his bed.
Outside, I hurriedly stripped the gear from the horses and turned them into the corral.
Nobody was around, so I rubbed them down, and was working over them when a vaquero came out.
Well, he pulled up short when he saw me there working, but I just raised up and said, "Buenos dias, amigo." Then I added in English, "When do we eat around here?"
"Poco tiempo," he grunted, and went inside. So I kept on working over my horses, rubbing them down carefully, then forking hay into the corral, and going to the bin for a healthy bait of corn for each. They'd earned it.
When I walked to the house and stepped up on the veranda, Dorinda was standing there. She gave me a sharp glance and said, "You're up early."
"Now, ma'am," I said gently, "no such thing. You take any mountain boy ... he'd be apt to be up this early. Why, back to home we'd had the cows milked by this time, or if 'twas winter, we'd be out runnin' a trap line."
"I had no idea you were from the mountains," she said, and I don't know why, but suddenly I knew she lied.
"Have you seen Mr. Mandrin?" she asked.
"Me? Is he up and about?"
She came up close to me. "Tell," she put a hand on my sleeve, "please don't think me ungrateful. I've wanted to thank you for all you did and tried to do, but it wasn't possible. You see, those men would not have understood.
Someday I'll explain--was "Don't bother," I said. "Anybody who'd try to take an old man's ranch away from him doesn't owe me anything, least of all, explanations."
She stiffened up, her face went white, and those black eyes turned to poison, quick as that. "You are a stupid fool!" she said contemptuously.
"I shall explain nothing!"
She turned away from me, and I was just as pleased. I wanted no truck with that black-eyed woman, but the way I saw it, my troubles had only just begun.
About a half-hour later, when I was hungry enough to chew my own boots, they called us to breakfast, and about that time there were horses riding up outside.
One glance through the window sent me stepping back to my room to pick up a gun. It wasn't in me to wear a gun to any man's table, but this here was different. So I taken up a pistol and shoved it down behind my waistband within easy grasp.
Outside there I'd seen Dayton and Oliphant, that city man I'd first seen with Dayton and Dorinda. With them was Nolan Sackett. It was the first time I ever laid eyes on kinfolk of mine when I wasn't pleased.
There were some others, too, and one of them was a wiry, sallow-faced man with the snakiest black eyes you ever did see. He had a tied-down gun which some gunfighters favor, and a way about him that told me he figured himself a handy man with a gun.
When I walked into the dining room Old Ben Mandrin was already settin' up to table, and he looked at me just as perky as could be. "You're walking into trouble, boy," he said. "Are you with me?"
"I reckon we share enemies," I said.
Roderigo came in suddenly, and he glanced quickly at me--doubtfully, I thought, like maybe of a sudden I wasn't to be trusted.
The others showed up at the door.
"Come in! Come in!" Old Ben was smiling and easy, and it throwed them. I mean they didn't know what to make of him, for
I taken him at his word. Those horses were fixed up and a-raring to go, and we lit out of there fast, high-tailing it down off that mountain.
We hit that little village at a dead run, and a moment after we raced through, somebody ran into the trail and yelled after us, but we headed across the plains toward the ranch. And he stayed with me.
Old and weak he might seem, but there was grit in him, and we almost ran the legs off those horses until we were within a hundred yards or so of the ranch.
There was gray in the sky and a light was going in one of the vaquero shacks, but we slipped in, and I got him back through my window. Then I got him into his own bedroom, and he locked the heavy bag in a closet at the head of his bed.
Outside, I hurriedly stripped the gear from the horses and turned them into the corral.
Nobody was around, so I rubbed them down, and was working over them when a vaquero came out.
Well, he pulled up short when he saw me there working, but I just raised up and said, "Buenos dias, amigo." Then I added in English, "When do we eat around here?"
"Poco tiempo," he grunted, and went inside. So I kept on working over my horses, rubbing them down carefully, then forking hay into the corral, and going to the bin for a healthy bait of corn for each. They'd earned it.
When I walked to the house and stepped up on the veranda, Dorinda was standing there. She gave me a sharp glance and said, "You're up early."
"Now, ma'am," I said gently, "no such thing. You take any mountain boy ... he'd be apt to be up this early. Why, back to home we'd had the cows milked by this time, or if 'twas winter, we'd be out runnin' a trap line."
"I had no idea you were from the mountains," she said, and I don't know why, but suddenly I knew she lied.
"Have you seen Mr. Mandrin?" she asked.
"Me? Is he up and about?"
She came up close to me. "Tell," she put a hand on my sleeve, "please don't think me ungrateful. I've wanted to thank you for all you did and tried to do, but it wasn't possible. You see, those men would not have understood.
Someday I'll explain--was "Don't bother," I said. "Anybody who'd try to take an old man's ranch away from him doesn't owe me anything, least of all, explanations."
She stiffened up, her face went white, and those black eyes turned to poison, quick as that. "You are a stupid fool!" she said contemptuously.
"I shall explain nothing!"
She turned away from me, and I was just as pleased. I wanted no truck with that black-eyed woman, but the way I saw it, my troubles had only just begun.
About a half-hour later, when I was hungry enough to chew my own boots, they called us to breakfast, and about that time there were horses riding up outside.
One glance through the window sent me stepping back to my room to pick up a gun. It wasn't in me to wear a gun to any man's table, but this here was different. So I taken up a pistol and shoved it down behind my waistband within easy grasp.
Outside there I'd seen Dayton and Oliphant, that city man I'd first seen with Dayton and Dorinda. With them was Nolan Sackett. It was the first time I ever laid eyes on kinfolk of mine when I wasn't pleased.
There were some others, too, and one of them was a wiry, sallow-faced man with the snakiest black eyes you ever did see. He had a tied-down gun which some gunfighters favor, and a way about him that told me he figured himself a handy man with a gun.
When I walked into the dining room Old Ben Mandrin was already settin' up to table, and he looked at me just as perky as could be. "You're walking into trouble, boy," he said. "Are you with me?"
"I reckon we share enemies," I said.
Roderigo came in suddenly, and he glanced quickly at me--doubtfully, I thought, like maybe of a sudden I wasn't to be trusted.
The others showed up at the door.
"Come in! Come in!" Old Ben was smiling and easy, and it throwed them. I mean they didn't know what to make of him, for
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