Upon arriving back at the ranch Raven was approached by Curly Bill Brocius, a massive man with a head of thick, curly hair, as befit his name.
“Glad you’re back, Ike,” said Brocius.
“Is something wrong?”
“Not yet,” said Brocius. “But we’ve got Wyatt’s horse here. The markings and brand are unmistakable. Sooner or later he’s going to come out here after him.”
“Later, I hope,” said Raven.
Brocius threw back his head and laughed. “I’ve always liked your sense of humor, Ike.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“But it doesn’t alter the fact that Wyatt or one of them other goddamned Earps is going to be out here sooner or later, probably sooner, looking for his horse.” He paused briefly. “There’s a farm about thirty miles east of here that’ll take it for a few months.”
“Out of the goodness of their hearts?” asked Raven.
“That, plus a hundred dollars.”
Raven shook his head. “Just to watch a horse that no one’s going to ride out that far to look at?”
“Up to you,” said Brocius. Suddenly he grinned. “No way it’s gonna cost us a hundred dollars in bullets.”
“Ah!” replied Raven with a smile. “An optimist.”
Brocius smiled again, and shook his head. “Out here we’re all pessimists. The optimists are the ones who think they’ll see another sunrise or two.”
“There’s a lot of us and not that many of them,” said Raven.
“Yeah, that makes a difference. It’s not like going up against Ringo or the Doc, where one of them figures to beat eight or ten guys at once.”
“You really think they’re that good?” asked Raven curiously.
“I really think I wouldn’t care to find out,” said Brocius devoutly.
“Everyone makes it sound like there’s two superbeings with guns—Doc and Ringo—and no one else has a chance,” remarked Raven.
“Well, in Tombstone,” answered Brocius. “They say John Wesley Hardin could give either of them a hell of a fight, but last anyone heard he’s rotting in a jail in Texas.”
“And there’s always Wild Bill Hickok,” said Raven.
Brocius stared at him. “What you been drinking, Ike? Hickok got himself killed four years ago. And besides, except for one lucky shot against a nobody, he was never that good.”
“I bow to your expertise.”
“Well, I’m off to get a little grub. Want to come along?”
Raven shook his head. “No, I want to check on the old man, and see if Phin or Billy have encountered any problems I should know about.”
“You mean any not named Doc or Wyatt,” said Brocius with a grin.
“Those too,” answered Raven.
Brocius walked off to the bunkhouse, and Raven entered the farmhouse. His father was sitting on a rocking chair, looking a lot better than the last time he’d seen him.
“How’re you doing, Dad?”
“I’ll be okay,” answered the old man. “I’m just not up to a three-day horse-and-cattle drive anymore.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of. Next time just send Phin in your place.”
“Yeah, makes sense,” said Old Man Clanton. “Wyatt come looking for his goddamned horse yet?”
“No, but I think we can be pretty sure that sooner or later he will.”
“I saw Curly Bill and his men moving their stuff into the bunkhouse. Good idea.”
“Glad you approve.”
“Now if you can just get Johnny Ringo . . .”
“We got him.”
“Really?” asked the old man excitedly.
“Really,” answered Raven. “I don’t know for how long.”
“What’s he costing us?”
“Almost nothing.”
Old Man Clanton frowned. “A man like Ringo? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I think he just wants the opportunity to prove he can beat Holliday in a gunfight.”
“Well, let’s hope his confidence is justified.”
The front door opened, and Billy Clanton walked in. “Hot out there,” he remarked.
“And you’re surprised?” said Old Man Clanton in amused tones.
“You know, they’ve started making book on the coming fight.”
“Doc and Ringo?” asked Raven.
“Well, actually, they’re making book on two fights,” answered Billy. “Doc and Ringo, of course. And the Earps and the Clantons.”
“I’d ask who’s favorite in the second fight, but it might depress me,” said Raven.
“They just set it up maybe an hour ago,” said Billy. He paused. “Odds were pretty much even when I left.”
“On both fights?” asked Old Man Clanton.
“On Doc and Ringo.”
“What about us and the Earps?”
Billy grimaced. “They’re the favorite.”
“Close?”
“Heavy,” said Billy unhappily.
“Good!” said Old Man Clanton.
“What’s so good about being such an underdog?” asked Raven.
“You ain’t thinking this through, youngster,” said the old man. “We put every last penny we’ve got on ourselves. Even mortgage the ranch and anything else we own.” Suddenly he offered a near-toothless grin. “If we win, we all get rich.”
“And if we lose?” said Billy.
The grin remained. “If we lose, we ain’t gonna need no money where we’re headed.”
Billy turned to Raven. “He’s got a point.”
“Yes, he does,” agreed Raven. “But it’s a very final point. I’d like to see if we can avoid a gunfight.”
“Everyone’s been expecting one.”
“We’re not everyone,” said Raven. “We’re Clantons, and I see no reason to put our lives on the line to make everyone else happy.” And my memory is that you were the first one killed at O.K. Corral.
“Well,” said Billy, “I suppose one thing we can do is lead Wyatt’s horse to the played-out silver mines at the far end of town in the middle of the night, turn him loose, and there’s no way Wyatt can prove we had anything to do with it.”
Raven turned to the old man. “You think Wyatt would buy that we had nothing to do with it?”
“Not a chance. Hell, a couple of my Mexicans were so anxious to tell him about it they cut out a day early so they could race ahead and let him know.”
Raven frowned. “Then why isn’t he here already?”
“Probably got business in town or at the Oriental,” said Old Man Clanton. “He knows we’re not going anywhere, and neither is his damned horse.”
“Okay,” said Raven. “But we’d better keep a round-the-clock watch for him.”
“Why?” said the old man. “He ain’t coming out in the dark. No way he could spot his horse—or see who’s aiming at him. Just keep an eye out for him starting each day at sunup.”
Raven sighed. “Okay, makes sense.”
“I raised you to be brighter, Ike. You should’a thunk of that yourself.”
Raven had to restrain himself from yelling “I’m a goddamned dress merchant!” and silently nodded his head.
“Okay,” said Billy. “Since Phin ain’t back, I’ll check on the cattle and horses myself.”
“And I think I’ll grab a nap before dinner,” added the old man, getting slowly, carefully to his feet and hobbling off to his room.
Raven was left alone in the house. He considered everything he’d heard, both in town and back here at the ranch, and finally shook his head.
Is anybody there?
I am, Eddie, came Lisa’s thought.
I’m trying, thought Raven, but I’m just not fit for this.
Do you think you were fit to be Dracula or Don Quixote?
He frowned. Those were simple and over fast, nothing as complex as this scenario.
They were easier, agreed Lisa.
None of them were easy . . . but this one goes on and on. And I know the goddamned outcome. Doc and the Earps kill Billy and the McLaury brothers at O.K. Corral, and the only reason they let me live is because I’m unarmed and I plead for my life. I don’t remember a lot of the details, but I sure remember the outcome.
He could almost feel her sigh. Ah, Eddie—you make me feel so old.
Well, right now I’m busy feeling doomed, he answered. He paused for a moment, trying to order his thoughts and ignore the fact that she was reading them as quickly as he thought them. Look, I know you didn’t send me here to kill me. But just what am I supposed to do as a goddamned horse and cattle thief? I suppose I should help somebody, but I haven’t met a single person worth helping since I got here—probably including me.
Eddie, I can’t answer your questions, thought Lisa.
You mean you won’t.
Can’t, won’t, it comes to the same thing. Just as your actions are constricted by being Ike Clanton, mine are constricted as the Mistress of Illusions.
Come on, he thought irritably. You change eras as easily as I do, you’ve already shown me that nothing can harm you, you can assume any identity you want while I’d stuck in whatever identity you or Rofocale put me in. You can’t be as helpless as you say.
Not helpless, Eddie, she replied. Powerless.
What the hell’s the difference?
When you figure it out, you’ll be well on your way to solving this test.
And then he was totally alone again, and Lisa’s telepathic voice vanished in the late afternoon heat.