The rancher rode into the yard, aghast at the havoc the night riders had visited upon the Rakers. Halting in front of Roxie and Lockett, he dismounted.
“Them raiders again?”
The girl nodded dispiritedly. “This time they killed Renzo. And Clint’s badly injured.”
Cushman wagged his head. “It’s a damned shame. Something sure ought to be done about it,” he said, and turned to look at Clint, now sitting up. “You feeling better, boy?”
“Guess so,” Raker replied woodenly.
“What you’re needing is a doctor, and some good caring for in a decent house,” the rancher continued. He hesitated, stroked his chin thoughtfully, and turned to Roxie. “Have you made any plans for what you’ll be doing now … after this?” he asked, making a sweeping gesture at the blackened ruins of the ranch buildings. “Sure ain’t nothing left here worth staying around for.”
“It’s all we have,” Roxie murmured.
“I know, but it’s worth nothing now … and you can’t stay here. Best you and Clint come over to my place where you’ll be comfortable. Then we can talk about what you ought to do.”
“I know what I’m going to do,” the girl said.
Cushman frowned. “That so? What?”
“Rebuild the ranch, keep it going.”
“The hell you say!” Cushman said explosively. He brushed his hat to the back of his head, scratched at his red hair, and glared at Lockett. “This some of your doings, putting an idea like that in her mind?”
“No, it happens he’s against it, too,” Roxie said before Dade could reply.
“It’s only good, common sense, girl,” the rancher declared, recovering himself. “How can you even think about doing something like that? Place’s been burned to the ground … and you’re flat broke. I meant to say earlier I was sorry your deal with Bern Pogue fell through.”
Lockett came slowly to attention. How did Cushman know that Pogue intended to back out on his promise to purchase the Raker cattle? How could he unless he had been the one to put pressure on Pogue? He saw Roxie give him a frowning glance. He shook his head. Facing the rancher, he asked quietly: “What makes you think he did?”
Cushman’s features were a blank. “Well, that’s what he did, didn’t he?”
“Nope, not at all,” Dade said coolly, and then added: “Pogue crossed you, Cushman.”
The rancher drew himself up, flung a side glance at the rider, a lean, wiry man with close-set eyes, who was standing with the two horses. “You’re talking loco, mister. I don’t know what you mean.”
“The hell you don’t,” Lockett snarled, gambling on being right in what had quickly taken shape in his mind. “It’s been you behind the trouble the Rakers have had all along.”
“Now just you hold on there.”
“It’s you wanting the place … not John Grosinger. Laying the blame on him was just a way to cover your tracks.”
“That’s a lie! I’ve been the only friend these folks’ve had in this whole valley. It’s been me trying to help.”
“Been you offering, you mean,” Dade corrected. “From what I hear the only thing you ever parted with was a lot of talk.”
Cushman’s ruddy face darkened. He glanced once more at the man he’d brought with him. Lockett gave the rider a look, also, one that was swift, complete, and calculating, and then let his arms sink, hang loosely at his sides.
“That what you think, girl?” Cushman demanded, shifting his attention to Roxie.
The soft contour of her face had hardened, seemingly freezing the beauty there rather than destroying it. A directness had come into her eyes. “Yes, every bit of it,” she said in a firm, solid voice. “I can see now that all this time you haven’t been helping us, you’ve just been making it sound that way while all the time you were gnawing away at us … at Clint and me, like … like some kind of animal, doing everything you could to pull us down, put us where we’d have to sell out to you.”
Dade felt a current of pride sweep through him. Roxie was far more a woman than he’d thought. She was standing up to Cushman, man to man, and, he suspected, were he not there, she’d still do it.
“I’m not denying I offered to buy you out.”
“Those night riders … are you going to deny they work for you?” she pressed.
Cushman shook his head impatiently. “I don’t know nothing about them.”
“I’ll bet you don’t,” Lockett cut in. “Same as you don’t know who it was that bushwhacked Charley Raker.”
It was a shot in the dark, Dade gambling again on what he didn’t actually know but suspected.
The rancher’s eyes flared. “You can’t prove …!” he shouted, and then, realizing the words were little less than an admission, broke off. He stared at Lockett for a long moment, whirled suddenly to face the rider behind him. “Shut him up, Abe!”
The gunman’s arm moved slightly. Anticipating it, Lockett rocked to one side, drew, triggered a shot. Abe’s weapon blasted in almost the identical fraction of time.
Roxie jumped at the deafening sound of the dual explosions. She spun to Lockett, naked fear tearing at her features. A half dozen paces beyond her, Clint had again come to a sitting position, and was looking on in a dazed sort of way. The girl’s voice was anxious, filled with dread. “Oh, Dade … are you …?”
Lockett, poised, eyes on Cushman, waved her back. The rancher was wearing a pistol, but he seemed of no mind to use it. Instead, he was looking down at Abe, sprawled full length in the dust, as if unable to believe the gunman had failed. “He’s dead, Cushman.”
The rancher pivoted slowly, carefully, keeping his hands well away from the weapon hanging at his hip. “I can see that,” he said harshly. “And if this is the way you want it …”
“It’s the way we want it,” Lockett echoed scornfully. “It’s the way you’ve made it. First Charley Raker, then Renzo Clark laying over there under that blanket. It was only luck that Clint’s not beside him. And a couple of days ago you tried your best to add me to the list.”
“You’ll make it,” Cushman said in a tight, promising voice. “Every damned one of you.”
“No point in waiting,” Locket said softly. “Might as well get it done now.”
The rancher shook his head, forced a half grin. “No, you ain’t suckering me into a shoot-out. That’s what I hire men like Abe for.” Still facing Dade, he backed slowly to his horse, thrust a foot into a stirrup, and swung onto the saddle, doing it all in careful, deliberate moves. “I’ll handle this my way.”
“Seems your way’s caught up with you,” Lockett said dryly. “Best thing you can do now is back off, forget about the Raker place.”
“Nope, not about to.” The rancher looked directly at Roxie. “This here’s your last chance, girl. Load up what you’re wanting to keep and go into town. I’ll meet you there, pay you what I figure the place is worth … cattle and all.”
“The answer’s still no.”
Cushman nodded briskly. “All right, it’s you who’s called the turn,” he said, spurring his horse about. “I’ll be back.”
“Come ready to die,” Roxie said coldly.