Cody watched Ned Pierce as he placed his hat aside and plodded forward again. Cody had been in a few fights back on Domino and seen many more. What he had learned from these was that a blustering adversary usually figured to simply wade in and end the fight with his first few blows. When this did not happen, he seemed to take a mental step backwards and flail around in confusion.
Ned Pierce did not seem to be that sort of fighter. He raised his fists and approached quite methodically, not throwing wild punches, but searching for an opening. Cody crouched and took up a defensive position.
The sudden thunder of a gun near at hand caused Cody to flinch, Ned Pierce to spin angrily toward the door to the barn where Walt Donovan stood, the Colt in his hand trailing smoke.
‘Knock it off, Ned,’ the Triangle foreman said. ‘That’s not the way we welcome men to this ranch, and you know it.’
‘He’s a Stanton man,’ Ned said in a fury of frustration.
‘You don’t know that. For myself, I doubt it.’
Ned Pierce just stood, fists still bunched, glowering at Donovan, whose face was still but rigidly set. Behind both men Joe Rowland walked to the barn door and went out, entering a minute later, leading Donovan’s sorrel horse. The man was unwavering in his duties. Pierce seemed to have much he wanted to say, but he turned away from Cody in disgust, retrieved his hat and stormed out of the barn.
‘What was that about?’ the mustached Donovan asked.
‘Nothing that I could tell,’ Cody answered.
‘As usual,’ Donovan said bitterly. He glanced at Charlie Tuttle. ‘You know this man, do you?’
Charlie nodded. ‘We rode together for three years up on Domino. I was just offering to show Cody around and introduce him to some of the boys.’
‘Do that. First he’d better meet the boss to make it official.’ Donovan removed his hat and wiped back his salt-and-pepper hair. He told Cody seriously, ‘When Ned takes a disliking to a man it sticks to him like a burr. I can’t always be around to keep you out of trouble.’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to be,’ Cody said.
Donovan looked the younger man over and nodded with apparent satisfaction. ‘You’d better come along with me to the big house,’ the Triangle foreman said.
Joe Rowland spoke up. Smiling, he asked, ‘Walt, what would you say to letting me have the kid to help me out for a day or two? He’s still a little banged up, and I could use some extra help.’
Donovan again eyed Cody, who appeared exhausted. His pant leg was stained with blood from the knocks he had taken. ‘It’s all right with me,’ Donovan said with a shrug. ‘Feel like swamping out the horse stalls tomorrow, Cody?’
‘So long as it’s work it suits me,’ Cody Hawk answered, meaning it. This was no time to be particular, and a day spent with the cheerful Joe Rowland was preferable to many alternatives he could think of.
‘You can have him then, Joe,’ Donovan said. ‘Depending on what the boss says, of course.’
There were lights on front and rear as they walked across the yard toward the big house. Someone was singing softly in the back of the house. A cook? Walt Donovan walked up the front steps as if he owned the place, Cody Hawk trailing behind. He was slightly apprehensive but Donovan seemed to be on his side. If the boss did not choose to hire him, he supposed he could try buying a horse from Triangle and hit the road again. It was still damnably cold out and he was not in the best shape. He did not wish to travel the long trails again, not so soon. But, since that was the worst that could happen, he removed his hat and followed Donovan into the neat house without expectations, but with quiet hope.
There was a braided rug in the entranceway and it muffled their bootsteps as they moved into the main room of the house, where a fire burned brightly in a white stone fireplace. The woman standing with her back to the fireplace was an astonishing sight to a rough country man like Cody Hawk. Around the age of twenty-five, she was not tall, but gave the impression of being of stature. Her eyes were a pale blue, dancing now with firelight. She wore a long white dress with a black sash tied to a bow in the back. Her little boots were the same blue as her eyes. Her dark hair was done up in an intricate fashion which nevertheless seemed loose and casual.
‘This is Jewel Frazier,’ Walt said by way of introduction. ‘Jewel, this is Cody Hawk. Is your father around?’
‘Is this about hiring on?’ Jewel Frazier asked.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Well, then,’ the woman said with a small sigh, I suppose you will have to talk to my father. I’ll send Remo upstairs.’
‘No need for that,’ a deep masculine voice said. ‘I’m here, as you can see.’
The man who had to be the owner of the Triangle stood on the landing of the carpeted inside stairs. He wore a pearl-gray suit, gold vest and red cravat with a gold stickpin. He had once been handsome, Cody thought. Now his face had folded slightly at the jowls, and his shock of hair had gone completely white.
‘Mr Frazier,’ Donovan said with some warmth. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
The man worked his once-powerful body down the stairs, using the banister with every step. Reaching the firelit room, he strode heavily toward Donovan and took his hand.
‘Glad you came over, Walt. What can I do for you?’
‘It’s about this young man, Cody Hawk,’ Walt said.
‘What’s he done?’ Frazier demanded. His daughter, Jewel, formed a slightly exasperated face.
‘Cody? Nothing at all. He just arrived today from Domino. Since, as you know, Domino doesn’t retain many hands over the winter, Cody’s looking for work here.’
‘Do we have much work to do around the place?’ Frazier asked, walking to the hearth to warm his thick hands.
‘We still have a lot of strays over near the Stanton place that should be pushed home,’ Donovan said. ‘There’s a need for some yard work. I think we’ll have to repair the bunkhouse roof soon. Joe Rowland has asked me for some temporary help. He asked specially if he could have Cody Hawk for the job.’
‘Good old Joe,’ Frazier said. ‘Always has a smile for you.’ He paused and then looked at Cody again. ‘But who is this young man, Walt?’
Now Jewel quit trying to hold in her frustration. ‘For God’s sake, Dad! This is Cody Hawk. Walt wants to hire him on.’
‘Well …’ the old man hesitated. ‘If you know who he is and Walt recommends him, I suppose we can give him a chance.’
Jewel turned away with obvious irritation. Frazier seemingly had a little trouble with his memory these days. He stared vaguely at the fire, still seeming confused. ‘Is this the year we’re going to finish off those Stantons, do you think, Walt?’
‘I’d like to see them gone as much as you, sir, but outside of making war on them, it looks like they’re here to stay.’
‘Vermin is what they are,’ Frazier said. ‘Been poaching my beeves for years.’
‘That’s why we’re going to patrol the western range and start pushing those cows home,’ Walt said patiently.
‘That’s a good idea, Walt! If you need extra men to get that done, we’ll hire a few.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Frazier looked blankly at Cody Hawk as if he had already forgotten who he could be and then turned to walk off in the direction of what had to be the kitchen.
‘He’s having one of his bad days,’ Jewel Frazier apologized. ‘This morning he mistook me for my mother.’
It seemed to Cody that Walt and Jewel Frazier wanted to have a longer, private conversation about the affairs of Triangle, and so he excused himself and went out into the cool of night. Well, he had been hired on – he supposed, from Frazier’s vague comments. All he wanted now was a bite to eat and a bunk he could stretch out on to rest his injured leg. He limped toward the barn again. Charlie might still be waiting for him. He and Charlie also needed to have a private conversation soon. There was the little matter of $3,800 dollars in lost or stolen, gambled-away-and-murdered-for gold to discuss.
It was a clear bright morning, and it was startling to Cody Hawk’s eyes. He lay still on his bunk for a long time, organizing his memories. Charlie had brought him over here from the barn the night before and a man named Figaro or Figg, who seemed to be in charge of the place, assigned a bunk to Cody. He had met a few other hands, but could not remember their names this morning. He had been given a bowl of white beans and bacon, which he devoured more than eagerly. He had slept as soundly as a dead man until dawn.
Now men were up and moving around, joking and grumbling. The bunkhouse had grown chill overnight, but someone had started a fresh fire in the iron stove which was set in the middle of the floor. Breakfast, it seemed, had been served and devoured while Cody slept. He sat up and swung his legs to the floor; a sudden fierce pain in his knee reminded him of the rough trail they had traveled. Wincing, he rubbed at the calf of his leg, trying to lessen the pain in his knee. It did no good at all.
‘That’s why we let you sleep,’ the man Cody knew as Figg said, appearing with a white tin bowl, a clean towel and a roll of bandages. ‘Charlie said you were pretty banged up. It’s a good thing you’ll be working with Joe Rowland the next few days and don’t have to go riding this morning.’
It was, and Cody wondered if that was the reason the stableman had asked Walt Donovan for a man to help him out.
‘Let me see,’ Figg, a hollow-cheeked, thinly bearded man said, squatting down in front of Cody. ‘Got to wash it off first. I’ve got some carbolic poured into the water in this pan.’ He began wiping Cody’s scabbed knee, dabbing lightly at the encrusted injury. ‘Get shot there, did you?’
‘No,’ Cody said with a grimace as the carbolic acid met raw flesh, ‘I did it to myself, trying to find out how fast a man could run into a tree in the dark.’
Figg looked up from his work with a smile. ‘Someone chasing you, was there?’
‘Most of the Stantons, it seemed. I know there were a lot of bullets flying.’
‘They’re a nasty bunch,’ Figg commented. ‘You know, Cody, I hate to tell you this, but you see this flap of hide peeled off your kneecap? I’m afraid I’m going to have to sew it back on or it won’t heal proper.’
By the time Cody reached the barn, he knew he was late for work. Figg had taken his time sewing up Cody’s wounded knee, taping up his sprained ankle. Then they shared coffee from the new pot Figg had boiled for the night-herders who were due in soon. His tardiness did not seem to bother the cheerful Joe Rowland.
‘Are you up to a day’s work?’ Joe asked with a concerned glance.
‘I think so. We’ll find out.’ Cody’s leg was stiffer, more awkward than ever, but Figg had promised him that it would now heal quickly and properly.
‘Yeah, old Figg knows what he’s doing with scrapes and broken bones,’ Joe Rowland said, handing Cody a rake and shovel he would need for his morning’s work.
‘For a while I was afraid they might set me to work up on the bunkhouse roof. If you hadn’t asked Walt for me …’
Joe’s grin broadened and he shook his head. ‘Walt’s been telling the boss for years that he was going to need men to fix the bunkhouse roof – mostly when he wants to hire someone new. It’s never gotten done yet.’
‘Mr Frazier never notices?’
‘Cody, you met Ernest Frazier – does he seem to you to be the type of man who notices much these days?’
‘I guess not,’ Cody said, taking the rake and wide shovel from Joe’s hands.
‘Not that he was always that way!’ Joe said. ‘Ernest Frazier was a fire-breathing, get-things-done type of man when I first reached Triangle. Men jumped when he spoke, I can tell you.’
‘What happened to him?’ Cody asked.
‘Nothing. He was born, Cody. And we all know where that leads in the end.’
‘Yes. I don’t like to think about that much.’
‘Nobody does. No, Ernest Frazier simply got old. Triangle goes on all the same. It’s an awful burden on that young woman.’
‘Jewel?’
Joe nodded. ‘I didn’t know you’d met her too.’
‘I did. She seemed just a little nervous. But I suppose Walt Donovan handles most thing.’
‘Walt tries. I don’t know how much Jewel trusts him with – not after the last foreman.’
‘What happened?’
‘It’s been a few years now,’ Joe answered. ‘I don’t know if it’s even important anymore.’
That ended that conversation. Cody limped along to the end of the horse stalls to start his work. He paused to pat Hungry, but the burro seemed utterly indifferent to his attentions. The skies had been nearly clear on this morning; a light breeze stirred. The doors to the barn were wide open, but still the interior of the barn was pretty rank.
Well, Cody thought, that’s why they hired me. At least he had a job and a cot to return to when he was finished.
He hadn’t seen Charlie Tuttle this morning. Figg told him that he was out helping the yard man, though there wasn’t a lot Charlie could do with that injured arm of his. Figg had judged the bullet wound to be a ‘Clean hole right on through. I packed it with sulfa powder. Charlie should be fine in no time – at least as soon as your leg is healed.’
Then the two would be ready to ride again in another week or so. But Cody was not so sure he wanted to leave Triangle, not when he had just arrived. As he had told both Charlie and Wayne more than once, he liked the idea of having steady work. Both of the older men had told him to make the best of the opportunity that had fallen into their laps – get off the range – but Cody was not so sure. If he had something else he wanted to do, but he did not. He was happy with what he had. Why spend his money on another place to shelter him when he had one here for free? One day he might feel different about things, but not now.
Charlie had been more than a little anxious about the money, and in the darkness last night, Cody told Charlie where he had hidden it. ‘That’s fine, kid,’ Charlie had said, putting a hand on Cody’s shoulder. ‘Are you sure you can find it again?’
‘Positive,’ Cody reassured him.
‘All right then, we’re all set. As soon as my arm feels better and you’re healed up, we’ll maybe ride to Baxter.’
‘Baxter?’
‘It’s the nearest town. You forget, Cody, I’ve worked on Triangle before, I’ve ridden into Baxter, it’s a little more than ten miles south of here. A good place to winter up.’
‘I’m not sure I’ll be wanting to go,’ Cody said.
‘Well, you think about it, kid. You can afford it. If you decide not to go, we’ll split the coin and I’ll go on alone, though I’d rather you rode with me.’
Around noon Joe summoned Cody from the back of the barn. He had set up a trestle-table using a plank and a couple of barrels. There was a platter full of beef sandwiches and bowls of beans with bacon. Cody had already made the acquaintance of those beans the night before, but he had no qualms about revisiting them. As they ate they talked of little and nothing. Cody was halfway through his second sandwich when the man appeared in the doorway, blacking out the easy good feeling of the small dinner.
‘Damn horse threw a shoe!’ Ned Pierce half-shouted, indicating the sorrel he had been riding. I thought I told you to take care of that, Joe.’
‘You did, and I did,’ Joe answered, looking slightly uneasy now. ‘I’ll see to that right away.’
‘In the meantime, I’m supposed to walk while I wait for you?’ Pierce said gruffly.
Joe waved a hand along the aisle of stabled horses. ‘Take any one you like, Pierce.’
‘Any one that has all four shoes tacked on properly will do me,’ the angry man said, stalking along the aisle between the horses.
When he went out a few minutes later, leading the pinto that had been offered to Cody the previous night, Joe was intently studying the right-hind shoe on the sorrel. When Ned Pierce had exited the horse barn, Joe dropped the sorrel’s foot and returned to the table.
‘It’ll wait,’ Joe muttered. Then he recovered his sandwich and his smile.
‘He’s never sunny, is he?’ Cody said.
Joe sighed, putting his half-eaten sandwich down. ‘No,’ he agreed, ‘he isn’t. But you have to understand, Cody – Ned Pierce wasn’t always like this. He used to be Ernest Frazier’s golden boy. He was Triangle ranch manager and, a lot of people suspect, the intended husband of Jewel Frazier.’
‘It sounds as if he had it made,’ Cody commented. ‘What happened to him?’
‘Too much drinking had something to do with it. And he gambled pretty heavy. But these didn’t matter to Mr Frazier, who was a bit of a hell-raiser himself in his day.
‘No, Cody, what pulled the roof in on him was the day he rode back in after having lost almost four thousand dollars of Triangle’s money.’