“Let’s not talk,” Cord said. “it makes my mouth hurt.”
“You pretty sure nothing’s busted?” Chi asked.
Cord worked his jaw with his fingers. Though it was sore, and his upper lip split and his lower tom by his own teeth, the bones seemed in one piece. He spit out a trace of blood.
“I guess,” he said thickly. “The more I get hit in the head, the harder it gets.”
“That’s good,” Chi said solemnly. “Man who gets in as much trouble as you, he needs a hard head.”
Cord unfolded his hands from over his face and sat up. From this little rise by the road, they could see miles in any direction, and were safe from ambush as they would be anywhere this side of Helena. The ranch headquarters to the north was about the same distance as the windmill to the south. Their horses were grazing on the green spring grass nearby.
Oakley sat crouched on his haunches to one side. He had listened quietly to Cord’s account of the hanging of Wee Bill Blewin. Now Cord took his pouch from his shirt pocket and tossed it to Chi. “You got any questions?” he asked Oakley.
“I do.” Oakley worked a blade of grass between his front teeth. “You think you will run out on me if we get boxed in?”
Cord forced himself not to look away. In fifteen years of hard adventure, Cord had committed few acts he now regretted. Of them, the one involving Nick Oakley he regretted most.
“No,” Cord said firmly. “I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“I’m thinking on ways to pay you back.”
“What’s between you two is for later.” Chi handed cigarettes to Cord and Oakley, put one between her own lips. “Right now we got business to see to. Wee Bill was telling the truth, wasn’t he? You two haven’t taken to rustling, have you?”
“Yeah,” Oakley said. “Meaning no.” He took a light from Cord, cupping it within both hands against the hot wind. “Wee Bill told the truth about us working for this Canaday hombre. We’d been on the trail for better than a week, and that empty cabin with the corral looked like the place to rest us and the stock for a day.”
Oakley blew out a thin stream of smoke. “An hour after we drove them in, I caught someone snooping around the corral. He howdied me friendly enough, and we talked horses some, but me and Billy didn’t like his looks. We’d heard the stories of night riders in these parts, same as everyone, but after encountering this fellow, we were more apt to credit them.”
Off across the prairie the whitetails grazed among the placid cattle. “We figured a way to avoid trouble was to ride in to town—we’d seen the road sign—and present the bill of sale to the sheriff. Turns out they ain’t got a sheriff. What they got is a saloon.”
“Handy,” Cord said.
“I like saloons in the afternoon,” Oakley said dreamily. “I like the cool and the quiet, and the old smoky smell, in the air and in the whiskey. This was a funny little place, run by a bartender who thinks he’s a librarian, and an adventuress who thinks she’s a doctor.”
“With a snake who thinks he can strike through glass.”
“So you been there. Anyway, I drank more than somewhat and didn’t eat anything, and by and by I flopped in one of the rooms they got upstairs. I woke up maybe three in the morning, sober and worrying about Wee Bill. I should have done that some earlier.”
“You didn’t know,” Chi said. “You weren’t against the law.”
“Law is for who makes it,” Oakley said. “And that’s not ever us.”
Cord crushed out his cigarette and shredded the butt. “No law wants us for anything.”
“Guess you are sitting pretty then, Cord,” Oakley said. “Anyway,” he went on, “I took a look at the burned-out cabin and Wee Bill’s body, and I rattled hocks out of there. I’m not so proud that I didn’t take time to bury him proper, but I was scared. One of them saw me, I was dead. I thought I couldn’t take them all on.”
“But you’ve changed your mind.”
Oakley shook his head. “I still don’t think I got a chance—not by myself.”
“Now wait up,” Cord said. Partnering wasn’t a proposition he’d expected from Nick Oakley, not after what happened.
“Hear me out,” Oakley said, quietly but firmly.
Chi gave Cord a look and he shut his mouth.
“I served some time once, Cord. You maybe remember.” Oakley put a sarcastic twist on it. “But nowadays no law has a call on me neither. So why should I let hooligans run me like a monkey?”
“Where did I hear that lately?” Chi said, smiling at Cord.
“There is more,” Oakley said. “I told a man in Wyoming I would do a job, and I shall do my best to keep my word. And this Mallory Bliss had my partner killed. I can’t let that pass. Would you?”
“Never mind me,” Cord said, a little sharply.
“Try this,” Oakley said. “Maybe we used to ride outside other men’s laws, but we acknowledged some rules. Now comes this Bliss, thinking he is God Almighty and his word is scripture, rules be damned. So what does he get: these night riders, and the worst sort of chaos.”
“And you propose to rectify it?”
“Someone ought to,” Oakley said earnestly. “Someone must.”
“He is right,” Chi said. “You want to settle, Cord, you got to be willing to do your part as a citizen.”
“Huh?” Cord said. “What’s that?”
“The right thing,” Chi said.
Cord stared off north at Bliss Ranch headquarters, serene as its grazing cattle, yet about to explode hot as the wind. “Okay,” Cord said wearily. “What do you propose?”
“First of all, I mean to get that old man.”
“It’s Stringer you want,” Cord said carefully. “Same as me.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I was there, damn it, and I say Stringer is your man.”
“Bliss hired him.”
“And then Stringer got out of control—and it was him who killed your partner.”
“How’d you live through the fun?” Oakley asked.
“I was born lucky,” Cord snapped. “Now I’m telling you: Stay away from that old man.”
Oakley looked at Cord for a long moment, then glanced at Chi. Chi nodded, barely moving her chin. Oakley shrugged. Nice how she could calm boys down so easily, Cord thought with some resentment. She had a way with all the men.
“All right,” Oakley said. “Since we’re letting our hair down, I got one more piece of news. While I was panicked and on the run, heading toward the North Gap, I nearly overcame a herd of horses and cows being driven that way. I circled around. After a time I stopped at a roadhouse in a little town called Geraldine. The bartender told me herds had been passing through for a couple of weeks.”
“And Stringer and his boys were driving them, probably up into Canada,” Cord said. “That’s not news to us.”
“Did you know Stringer was gathering them in gulches in that breaks country near the river up along the northwestern rim of this basin?”
“Didn’t know,” Cord said. “Don’t much care.”
Chi understood. “Maybe your stock is up there,” Chi suggested.
“Not yet,” Oakley said. “That was them in the horse pasture at the big house, watching Stringer try to beat Cord’s brains out.”
“I thought they might be,” Cord said. “Couldn’t tell for sure. There was a moon that night, but I was interested in other animals.”
“I mean to take back my horses before they are moved out,” Oakley said. “Anyone want to come along?”
“We got other troubles begging to be looked into,” Cord said. “I hurt Stringer pretty bad, least I hope so, but he’s not dead and he won’t run, not with all those guns to back him. Once he’s able—tomorrow at the latest, is my guess—he and his bunch’ll come riding for me.”
“There is the idea,” Oakley insisted. “With Stringer down, tonight is the time for getting back my horses.”
“I got other fish to fry.” Cord touched at his split lip with his bad hand. “I got to conserve my strength,” he added. “What I got left.”
“I’ll ride with you,” Chi said to Oakley.
“Say what?” Cord barked.
“We can take a look around at the setup anyway.” Chi turned to Cord. “Stringer is too beat-up for gunfighting tonight.”
“Maybe,” Cord said. He wished she would not go with Oakley, but she knew that.
Oakley stood and went to his horse. “I’m going to keep moving,” he said. “I trust no one tied to Bliss, and that goes for those two back in Enterprise. I want my back against no walls.”
Oakley swung into the saddle. “I’ll be at that windmill around dusk.” He nodded to Chi. “See you.” He gave Cord a cool, neutral look, and rode off.
“Come on,” Cord said. He could not keep his voice entirely free of annoyance. “I think I might be able to use a drink.”
“You sure could use a bath,” Chi said. “You decide about the drink.” She knew how Cord got around whiskey. Sometimes his timing was awful, but right now she decided not to worry about it.
They rode in silence for a time, the hot thick wind rolling over them. “You told a lie, querido,” Chi said after a time.
“How’s that?”
“Bliss was the one, wasn’t he? He ordered Wee Bill’s death.”
“How’d you know?”
“You can’t keep secrets from me,” she said lightly. “You try, but it never works.”
“I changed the story,” Cord admitted. “I don’t know—like you said at the big house, I guess I know who has got to pay.” He gave it some thought. “Bliss is crazy—there is no point in looking for satisfaction from him. He would never get it. It’d be like trying to teach a duck to read.”
“He is lost,” Chi said.
“That’s no excuse.” Cord shook his head. “But still, I reckon that somewhere the killing and vengeance has got to stop.”
Chi nodded, as if he had passed a small test. “But not until after Stringer …”
“You bet,” Cord said.