Abe Gordon kicked dirt over the fire and went across to his horse. In the early sunlight, his face looked pinched and old, the skin leathery. His shoulders were slumped and he seemed to have lost his strength. Watching him, the young woman said;
“Why did we come so far, Mr. Gordon? Why did we leave my father on his own?”
“It was how he wanted it,” the oldster said, cursing under his breath for deserting the man. He had never run from a fight, but last night he had—but only when Tom Prewett insisted. Now he intended to go back and find out what had happened to him. He already knew what to expect, for the fighting had stopped so suddenly. That meant only one thing. Tom Prewett had to be dead, and that was why he had kept the girl away until daylight.
“But surely we could have gone back earlier. I don’t understand it at all.”
The oldster swung into the saddle and knuckled his bloodshot eyes. He hadn’t slept a wink all night—he’d just sat and stared into the dark, knowing the young girl was doing the same. Every time she’d asked him to take her back, he’d given her a lame excuse about the sheriff possibly leaving a guard posted.
Now, he threaded his way through the boulders, smelling the freshness of the new day about him. Judith Prewett followed him, watching him closely, tears a blink away from her eyes.
The oldster had known her since she was a little into her teens. That was six years ago now. He had worked for Tom Prewett on newly purchased land running right up to Angus Hogan’s spread. That purchase of the extra land had left Prewett’s place short of water, but an assurance from old Angus that there’d always be water for anyone who needed it, had encouraged Prewett to go ahead with the purchase. He had bought more stock and he’d talked often of having a ranch that could supply the entire valley.
Gordon left the rise and led the way back down to the valley floor. Deep quiet was all around them. Suddenly, his mind tacked back to the day he’d made his big mistake, when he had made such a fool of himself that his employment had come to an abrupt end.
It was on Judith’s eighteenth birthday, her coming of age, as her father had put it. A large crowd had been invited to join the celebrations and Tom opened the purse strings and bought enough liquor to go around and more.
Gordon had downed more than his share and his many nights of dreaming had a chance of becoming reality. Finding himself alone with the girl, he made unseemly advances toward her. In her innocence, she let him take her in his arms. Misunderstanding, his hands began to fondle her breasts. When Judith jumped away from him, he could still see the fear and shock in her eyes. She had looked upon him as a father figure and nothing more, and now he had betrayed their friendship.
Next morning he was gone, ashamed to face her or his friend. He had scarcely spoken to either of them since.
“Everything looks all right, Mr. Gordon,” Judith said at his side as they came to the horse yards. “Dad’s got a fire going. He must be all right.”
Gordon watched her eyes brighten and her face fill with hope. Then she rode on and his warning call was drowned out by the drumming of hoofbeats. Judith stopped out front of the house, swung down out of the saddle and ran toward the open door.
“Dad! Dad!”
Her voice rang through the clearing as Gordon drew rein and pulled out his gun. He came warily out of the saddle, his eyes searching, his heart pounding.
Judith raced into the house, her hair flowing behind her, but he saw her come to a sudden halt in the doorway.
The oldster broke into a run and swung into the doorway behind her then skidded to a halt, his eyes searching, his gun muzzle following the sweep of his stare. He was primed to kill as never before in his life.
What he saw was Judith Prewett lunging at Buck Halliday.
The girl clawed at his face until he effortlessly caught and held her at arm’s length. He studied her calmly for a time before he said;
“You’d best explain me to her, Abe.”
Judith tried vainly to break free of his grip. Then tears flowed from her eyes and stained her cheeks and her body shook convulsively.
“Murderer!” Judith screamed.
The oldster hurried across to her after putting up his gun, caught her by the wrists and dragged her away. As soon as he was free of her, Halliday fed the fire with cut logs while Abe Gordon tried to explain. Then the oldster turned to Halliday and said; “Tom?”
Halliday walked slowly across to them, turned her to face him and said, “Ma’am, I hate to say it, but your father’s dead. He was killed last night during the raid. I saw you go with Abe and I stayed here to help.”
The girl regarded him suspiciously, her bosom rising and falling rapidly. Gordon stayed close to her, willing to let Halliday take control of the situation. Then the girl’s shoulders slumped and she took a step forward and fell.
Halliday caught her and lifted her in his arms. He was surprised at how light she felt. He carried her to a side room and lowered her gently to the bed and covered her with a blanket. Then he returned to the kitchen and stirred a pot on the stove and the aroma of cooked meat filled the room. Then Gordon said with a touch of resentment in his voice;
“You seem to have made yourself to home, Halliday.”
“No sense in going hungry when I can’t change what’s happened, Abe. Best get somethin’ to eat yourself while I go check on the girl.”
“What have you done with Tom?” Gordon asked as Halliday went to the door of the room.
“I dug a grave out back and left him in the shade in case the girl wanted to say goodbye. We can bury him if you think that would be better for her. But what about her now? She could be a real problem.”
Gordon looked down at the girl, who was just beginning to stir. Suddenly, he didn’t want to be in the same room with her. He hurried out to the back porch and crossed to where Tom Prewett was covered with a blanket. He stood there looking down at him, his mind blank.
Inside the house, Halliday helped Judith to a sitting position. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, not recognizing him immediately, he said quietly;
“Eat this, ma’am. You’ve had a bad shock and food can only help.”
He held the spoon out to her and was not surprised to see her lean forward and take a mouthful. After a minute or so, she slumped back on the pillow and shook her head. He knew that at any minute shock would overcome her again.
He decided it was time to be blunt.
“Ma’am, your father is dead. It’s better that you know it than go on hoping for something that can never be. I saw him die. He died trying to protect you, and speaking your name ...”
Her lips parted and she rose and only Halliday’s hand on her shoulder kept her from running away again. She fought to free herself, but Halliday said gently;
“He died trying to protect everything he had worked for. I can take up the fight for that kind of man ... and that’s what I intend to do.”
Halliday got to his feet and took the plate back to the stove. He heard her stirring behind him and the soft rustle of her skirt told him that she had at least partly recovered her composure.
When he turned to look at her, she was in the doorway and gazing into the yard where Abe Gordon stood over a blanket-covered body. Tears ran down her cheeks and she clasped and unclasped her hands. Then she gasped and ran across the porch. Stopping beside the body, she dropped to her knees and buried her face on her father’s chest. Halliday came out and then Abe Gordon, as though speaking to his dead friend, said;
“We won’t forget.”
Judith began to sob as the two men stood helplessly by. Then the girl lifted her head and dried her tears on a handkerchief. She looked to where Halliday had dug the grave. Biting her lip, she came to her feet, gave a barely perceptible nod, then turned and went back into the house.
Gordon stood looking after her until Halliday pushed a shovel into his hands and said;
“The sooner it’s done, the better, Abe.”
“What then?”
“Has she any friendly neighbors?”
“None. Cowley owns everythin’. Kerry was the last.”
“Cowley doesn’t own this place,” Halliday said. “And he won’t ever get his hands on it!”
“You’re gonna fight him then?”
“All the way.”
Gordon was silent for a time, then he muttered, “You’ll need help.”
He busied himself filling in the grave, and when the job was done, he wiped his hands on his dusty pants and looked bleakly around the yard.
“Tom had plenty of friends in town. Some of them begged him to sell to Cowley. A lot of people knew something like this would happen one day.”
“Why didn’t they do something to help him?” Halliday asked angrily.
Gordon shrugged heavily. “What could they do? Tom wasn’t the kind to let others fight his battles. He was mule-stubborn on that kinda thing. Besides, Cowley was too smart. He never broke any law.”
“He owns the law, don’t you know?” Halliday said bitterly. “Martin’s on his payroll.”
“I agree,” the oldster nodded. “But then, Cowley is top dog ’round these parts. He’s got a lot of men backin’ him. Those men spend a heap o’ money in town. Without them, a lot of people couldn’t make ends meet. It’s hard to hate a man and need him at the same time. It makes a man sick inside, but there ain’t a thing he can do about it, not when he has family to support.”
Halliday understood what the old man was saying. He had never tied himself down to any woman, but he knew that if he did, no sacrifice would be too much to pay for that woman’s wellbeing.
Halliday went back inside the house to find Judith tidying up. Halliday watched her before he said;
“You can leave that. We’ll take you into town.”
The young woman glared at him and said;
“This was my family’s home. I won’t be run off. Nobody will be taking me anywhere.”
“It’ll be better if you come with us,” Gordon told her. “You can stay with Tom’s friends in town. There’s gonna be more trouble out here.”
“Trouble?” Judith gave a short, brittle laugh. “What more trouble could there possibly be?”
“Cowley raided the place once, ma’am,” Halliday told her. “He’ll try again. And next time we’ll be waitin’ for him.”
Judith looked puzzled. “You? Why you? What stake have you in this?”
“I hardly knew your father,” Halliday admitted. “Fact, I only saw him twice before coming here. After our first meeting, I saw you waiting in the buckboard for him. You looked worried.”
“You can see now that I had a right to be,” she said. “Who are you, anyway?”
Halliday told her and added, “The same night I saw you, I signed on to work for Jude Cowley.”
Halliday waited for the shock to register on her face. When it did and he saw bitterness and hatred there, he quickly went on, “I worked for Cowley for much the same reason Abe did—it was a job and I needed the money. I learned a little about what was going on and though it was none of my business, I couldn’t shut my eyes to most of it. There was Kerry Hogan, for one.”
Judith’s lips thinned. “That sniveling little—”
“You might be making a mistake there, ma’am,” Halliday interrupted her. “I think Kerry wants everybody, including you, to believe he sold out to Cowley. I think the only thing he’s interested in is finding out who killed his father and brother.”
Judith frowned, but the anger had clearly left her face. To Abe Gordon, it seemed as if Halliday was smooth-talking her, but he had to admit that Halliday had a way with women.
“If I’m right about young Kerry,” Halliday went on, “then the three of us are now working for you. However, before we can really do anything, we have to get you to safety. I don’t think Cowley would have the nerve to harm you in town, would he?”
When the girl didn’t answer, Gordon spoke for her;
“She’ll be safe there. Like I said, Tom had a lot of friends. He wouldn’t allow them to do anything to help him, but I know they won’t let Judith down. I’d stake my life on it—she’ll be safe in town.”
“Fine,” Halliday said, then he turned back to Judith. “Put some things in a bag, enough to carry you through for a couple days. The sooner we get going, the better.”
Judith stood there, still regarding both men thoughtfully. “I’m not altogether convinced, Mr. Halliday. I want to know why you are doing this for me.”
“For one thing, Red Dank tried to gun me down during the raid on your house. I think he was acting under Cowley’s orders.”
“Then you are not what you appear to be, Mr. Halliday. You look to me to be just a drifter.”
“That’s all you need to know for now. I’ve been a lot of things in my time, but never a liar. Given time, I think I can come up with the reasons why they wanted your father out of the way. Whether I do or not, your father was murdered—and I don’t intend to let an innocent man go unavenged.”
Halliday walked out to the yard to his waiting sorrel. He swung into the saddle and waited, wanting to give the girl all the time she needed. Still, he was impatient to be on his way.
Judith came out ten minutes later with Abe Gordon behind her, carrying a bulky valise. He watched her gaze sadly at the grave and he saw her lips tremble. Then she stepped lithely into the saddle.