Mather was on him in a moment. Both men tumbled onto the ground, rolling about trying to gain the upper hand. This was where the foreman’s brute strength gave him a distinct advantage. He forced Cole onto his back pinning him down with one hand, ready to deliver the lethal knockout blow. Cole knew that a rapid reaction was needed to save him from oblivion. Prize-fighting methods were of little use now. So he resorted to the mean-spirited tactics of his opponent. A hand reached up and gripped hold of the guy’s privates, which he squeezed hard.

  The result was instantaneous. ‘Aaaaaaaaagh! Yuh lowdown skunk!’ the victim yelled out, much to the hilarity of his watching pals. He rolled on the floor massaging the tender extremities. ‘That ain’t proper fighting. Them’s dirty tactics.’

  Cole stood over the cowed foreman. ‘It takes one to know one, buster. You had enough yet?’ But Mather was not beaten yet. His pride was at stake here. An arm cracked against the back of Cole’s legs sending him tumbling to the ground. He jumped on top the fallen man. Once again they rolled across the ground, each struggling for the ascendancy.

  On hearing the cacophony outside, Ed Clifford had come to see what all the commotion was about. Far from intervening, he leaned nonchalantly against a veranda post and watched. His daughter likewise had come outside. But she was far less tolerant of this animalistic behaviour. ‘Why don’t you stop them?’ she remonstrated bitterly. ‘Go on like this and one of them will be badly injured.’

  ‘If’n that young fella intends to run this outfit, he needs to be tough. Going up against Dan will prove whether he has the guts to pull it off.’

  ‘Well I’m not standing here like some ancient Roman baying for the blood of gladiators in the arena.’ She grabbed a bucket which she dipped into the horse trough, tossing the contents over the grappling duo. The dousing certainly produced the desired outcome. Both men spluttered and gurgled as they rolled apart. ‘On your feet you two. How dare you behave like wild dogs in my presence! You both ought to be ashamed of yourselves.’

  ‘Guess we can call that a draw,’ Clifford declared. ‘What do you say, boys?’ he asked the watching hands who nodded their agreement. ‘Hey Jumble!’ he called across to the cook, who also doubled as the ranch medic for animals as well as humans. ‘Get these two jackasses cleaned up.’ Then to the new owner instructed, ‘Soon as you’re presentable, Kingpin, come into the house and I’ll give you the paperwork to make this handover official.’

  Without waiting for a reply, Clifford then went back inside. Having carefully observed how Cole Jardine had handled himself, he was well satisfied the guy had the makings of a solid rancher.

  After struggling to his feet, the bedraggled and blood-smeared foreman tried desperately to appease his alleged betrothed. ‘You ain’t mad at me are you, honey?’ he pleaded, trying to ingratiate himself back into the girl’s favour. ‘A guy has his pride. That prancing puppet needed taking down a peg to show him I ain’t no milksop.’

  ‘If’n you think that brawling in the dust like a common thug will impress me, Dan Mather, you’re sadly mistaken.’ No further words were spoken as the girl stamped off to join her father. Cole couldn’t help pasting a sickly grin onto his face as she passed him. The girl immediately deflated his burgeoning ego with a cutting retort. ‘And don’t think you’re any better in my estimation than him, Jardine. It’s your arrival in Red Mesa that has caused all this trouble.’

  ‘And I’m the one who’s going make certain this place doesn’t fall into the hands of Kez Randle,’ was the new owner’s crisp reply as he wiped a smear of blood from his knuckles. Eleanor ignored the poignant assertion, not wishing to bandy words with this mysterious stranger who had so suddenly appeared in their lives.

  ‘I hope you’re satisfied.’ Once inside the house, Eleanor proceeded to admonish her father. ‘That hired gunslinger has only just turned up and already he’s antagonized the whole crew.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that,’ Clifford countered. ‘The fella certainly knows how to handle himself. Anybody who can match Dan toe-to-toe has certainly earned my respect. And I could see that the boys thought that as well. We need a solid guy like him to get the cattle to Fort Belvedere and keep Randle off’n our backs.’

  The girl sniffed imperiously. ‘I hope you’re right, Dad. I surely do.’

  ‘So do I, Elly,’ her father intoned sombrely. ‘If’n we don’t meet that contract deadline by the end of the month, this place is finished. And Randle will have won.’

  His daughter scoffed at the suggestion. ‘That ain’t your responsibility no more, Dad, seeing as how you’ve thrown it all away to that hired gunslinger. I don’t know how you could have been so reckless to do such a thing.’ Tears brimmed in her eyes. ‘This place has been your whole life. I was born here.’

  A hard cast framed the rancher’s craggy face. ‘I was desperate. And with that loan hanging over us, desperate measures were needed to stop the Flying C falling into the hands of that crooked panhandler. The Kingpin was hired to make sure the herd didn’t reach Fort Belvedere. Now he has a vested interest to fulfil the contract.’

  Eleanor peered suspiciously at her father as a hint of the truth emerged. ‘Now I understand,’ she averred firmly. ‘You made sure Jardine would win that bet, didn’t you? Some sleight of hand with those dice and low and behold, snake eyes!’

  Clifford neither concurred nor denied the assertion. Then he smiled, the granite-moulded facade softening. ‘Why don’t you give the guy some slack, gal? We’re gonna need him on our side.’ Eleanor responded with a deep sigh as if to say she could never fathom the macho character inherent in all men.

  At that moment Cole entered the office. ‘How about that coffee then, Eleanor? Mr Jardine and I have business to conduct.’ Then, as an afterthought, ‘And don’t forget to add some of them jam doughnuts you made this morning.’ A poignant regard for discretion passed between father and daughter as Eleanor gave the newcomer a snooty flick of her lustrous hair before leaving the room.

  ‘That daughter of your’n sure seems hard to please, Ed,’ Cole declared.

  ‘Don’t worry, son,’ the ex-rancher assured the new owner. ‘She’ll come round . . . eventually. Now let’s get down to business.’ He handed over the deed of ownership and the dreaded mortgage owed to Kez Randle. ‘That’s the bit I’m glad to get rid of.’ They both signed the transfer document.

  Once the official entrustment had been completed with the traditional handshake, Clifford gave the new owner a cynical once-over. ‘How much do you know about ranching, Cole?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve done some punching up in Montana, but that ain’t like running a spread the size of the Flying C,’ Cole admitted.

  ‘Then you’re gonna need help.’ The retired rancher paused. ‘I can give you a quick rundown of the basics you’ll need to know about organizing a drive. Then it’s all your’n. But what about Dan? Can you work with him? He knows the business inside out and the hands respect him. Although judging by your performance outside, you should have no trouble on that score.’

  ‘I ain’t got no beef with Dan now. I can understand why he tried to dry-gulch me. Not that I approve. And I enjoyed proving that outside. Just so long as he knows who’s bossing this outfit.’

  Clifford nodded his agreement then lowered his voice, not wanting his daughter to earwig his next query. ‘And what about Elly? I’ve seen how you look at her. And Dan has set his hat at marrying her.’

  ‘I won’t cause no trouble.’ Cole kept a deadpan look on his face as he added, ‘Just so long as he don’t mind a bit of competition in that regard.’

  The old timer concealed a sly smirk. He was rapidly arriving at the conclusion that he had made the right decision with this guy. As soon as they had finished the coffee and cakes, the two men went outside. Clifford had suggested they take a ride so that the new owner could see what he had acquired. They were about to mount up when the hands arrived, led by Dan Mather.

  ‘If’n you’re still intent on rounding up the cattle and driving them to Fort Belvedere, the boys want paying what they’re already owed,’ the foreman said, directing his demand to Ed Clifford.

  ‘We ain’t received a darned nickel for two months, boss,’ a wrangler by the name of Scooter Biggs piped up. ‘Me and the boys signed up for thirty a month and found. All we’ve had so far is bed and board. We’d all like a trip into town to let off a bit of steam, instead of hanging around here every Saturday night.’

  Clifford gave the claims an apathetic shrug, crossing his arms and leaning against the veranda. ‘Ain’t my problem no more, boys. Best ask the new boss.’

  All eyes swivelled towards the hovering figure behind. This was a development that Cole had not foreseen. He looked questioningly at Clifford who provided the obvious response but not the solution. ‘All the dough has gone on keeping this place going and these guys from going hungry. The safe is empty and so are my pockets. And its gonna stay that way until those cows are sold.’ He stepped back gesturing for the somewhat bemused new owner to take the reins.

  Cole took a deep breath before replying. He slowly stepped down off the veranda and faced the waiting hands. ‘Seems to me that Ed’s right. The only way for you guys to earn any dough is by getting those beasts to market. It’s gonna be a tough job and there ain’t a moment to spare if’n we’re to meet the deadline.’ He paused allowing the words to sink in. ‘So I’m prepared to pay double the going rate when the job’s completed. Until then, everybody, me included, works his ass off to make certain that happens.’ He looked the men in the eye, silently urging them to concur with his stipulation.

  Some much-needed support was provided by their old boss. ‘I reckon that’s a good deal, boys. Fact is, it’s the only one on the table. Pull out now and you go away empty-handed. But stick around and you’ll be in clover.’ He kept quiet about the fact that Kez Randle was unlikely to let that happen without some form of brusque retaliation. Instead he maintained an upbeat mood of optimism. ‘And I’m prepared to go along on the drive to add my backing to the new management.’ He then turned to Cole. ‘You can treat me like a regular hand with the same pay, not forgetting that bonus of course.’ Smiles all round from the regular hands greeted this concession from their old boss.

  What Clifford proposed was something Cole had not envisioned. His brow lifted in surprise. ‘You’re prepared to work for me after I took the ranch from you with the throw of a dice? I’m much obliged and sure would welcome your experience, Ed. But only if’n these guys are willing to go along.’

  ‘So what d’you say, boys?’ Clifford advocated confidently. ‘Are we in this together, all for one and one for all?’

  Biggs was the first man to voice his approval of the deal. ‘If’n you reckon we can do it, Mr Clifford, then I’m in.’ One by one the others followed suit. It was left to Dan Mather to make his decision as the others wandered away.

  ‘You willing to work under the new owner, Dan?’ Clifford posited.

  ‘Guess so, Ed. But I’m doing it for you . . . and Elly.’ His loyalty was clearly not only to his old boss, but to the girl he still hoped to marry one day soon. And that could only happen if’n he stuck around and made sure that blamed gunslinger kept his hands to himself. A less than cordial regard passed between the two men as Mather rejoined his crew.

  Cole was left under no illusions that this was going to be a difficult drive, and not only from the threat posed by Kez Randle. The tetchy foreman would not make life easy on the trail, that was for sure. But Cole was now the boss. And anybody who didn’t pull their weight would be given short shrift.

  Clifford appeared to read his thoughts. ‘They’re good hands, Cole, Don’t go pushing them too hard. And you’ll need Dan on your side,’ he stressed. ‘He’s the only one familiar with the route to Fort Belvedere. It was Dan who secured the contract when we realized that driving them to the northern railhead was out of the question.’

  No acknowledgement of the friendly advice was forthcoming as Cole stepped down off the veranda and mounted up. ‘How’s about you give me that personal viewing of what I’ve won? The sooner I get me a feel of the place, the sooner we can be on the trail.’ He tapped his pocket where the infamous mortgage paper was secreted. ‘Every day wasted here is a benefit for Randle.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Round Up

  The two men rode silently for an hour with barely a spoken word between them. Each felt quietly at ease in the other’s company. An early sun warmed their backs, its iridescent shimmer glancing off the distant upthrust of the Spruce Mountains. Flocks of meadow larks twittering and swooping with glee combined with deer cavorting at their leisure offered a scintillating sense of wellbeing. An idyllic tableau for a man yearning to cast off his gunfighting reputation and settle down.

  The only bugbear, and no simple worry for any man, was the burning issue of saving the ranch from insolvency, the resolution of which was impossible to avoid. For the time being at least, Cole tried to distance himself from the problem he had inherited. Certainly there was no denying the beauteous nature of the Flying C holding. Yet even the dewy-eyed image of Eleanor Clifford could not prevent his mind harking back to the problem of Kez Randle.

  Had he previously understood the true make-up of the situation he had blundered into, would he have accepted that challenge thrown down by his associate? Cole had never been one to brush aside difficulties encountered, instead facing them head on. And this was no different. No snake-in-the-grass like Randle was going to get the better of him. As such he harboured no regrets.

  The ranch and the cultivated pastures were left behind as Ed Clifford led his companion further into the wild reaches of the realm he had so recently owned and managed. Rich grassland gave way to scrub vegetation in the rough foothills above the Gunnison valley. The further from civilization the duo progressed, however, the more furrows appeared on the young gunslinger’s brow.

  They had just arrived at the edge of a downfall overlooking broken country choked with dense thickets of mesquite and thorn bush. He drew to a halt, Ed Clifford by his side. ‘There’s a heap of rough terrain up this end of the holding,’ the older man casually observed.

  Cole made no comment. After much silent deliberation he posed the question that had been tumbling round inside his head for the last half hour. ‘We’ve been riding for over two hours and I ain’t seen a single cow,’ the new owner remarked. ‘You certain this is a cattle ranch? Cos I’m beginning to wonder.’

  ‘We’ve only covered a quarter of the acreage so far. There’s longhorns down there all right,’ Clifford assured his young associate, ‘but they were scattered to the four winds by the nasty twister that blew down the valley two months back. It only lasted for half a day. But that was enough to finish off the other ranchers. They were forced into selling out to Randle for a pittance.’

  The explanation was cut short in mid-flow, a pensive yet gloomy expression conveying the anguish Mother Nature had caused. Cole looked away as the poor jasper wiped away a tear. The old rancher’s grief was like the loss of a loved one. He knew better than to interrupt the morose cogitation.

  Gathering himself together, Clifford breathed deep and carried on. ‘We were lucky.’ He pointed to a break in the far side of the valley. ‘That box canyon over yonder saved us. If’n the storm funnelling down there hadn’t blown itself out we wouldn’t have been able to make this drive. As it was, half my stock were killed.’

  ‘How long will it take to round them up?’ Cole now realized the scale of the task he had been given.

  ‘A week at least, providing we start straight away. Them critters will be strewn all over the place. It’s a big job. Too much for an old guy like me to handle.’ A shrewd look was fixed onto the younger man. ‘Why do you think I let you have the spread? A hotshot hired gun of your calibre will make Randle think twice about causing more trouble. Last thing I want is that slimy tinhorn getting his hands on the land I’ve sweated blood over.’

  Now it was Cole’s turn to conclude that he had been fooled. ‘So you deliberately threw that bet for me to win.’ It was a blunt statement of fact.

  ‘Having you in charge will make life much harder for that critter.’ Clifford chuckled at the notion. ‘It sure upset Mr Big Shot Randle’s plans for an easy conquest, that’s for sure. Now it’s up to you, son. I’ve placed all my hopes in you. Don’t let me down. Once the herd has been delivered to market, you can pay me off along with the rest of the boys and I’ll retire peacefully.’ Then he nudged his horse down the slope. Cole followed, struggling to get his head round the way fate had played its devious hand.

  Around four in the afternoon, they were back at the ranch. Cole called all the hands together and apprised them of the work to be done. Ed Clifford stood to one side not deigning to interrupt. Dan Mather was the first to confirm his old boss’s assertion that it would take a week to gather up all the strays into a single bunch.

  Cole nodded slowly as if considering the difficult task ahead. ‘Guess that’s with working regular hours, ain’t it?’ Nobody disagreed. ‘Well these are irregular times, men. And I want the drive ready to start first thing on Monday morning.’

  The foreman was none too pleased when Cole made his demands known. He scoffed at the greenhorn rancher’s inexperience. ‘You crazy!’ he exclaimed hotly. ‘That’s only three days off. I know this land inside out, a sight better than you. So I’m telling you, mister, it can’t be done in that time. Ask the man who knows if’n you don’t believe me.’ He looked to Ed Clifford for support.

  The old rancher merely shrugged his shoulders. ‘Ain’t my call, Dan. If the new owner wants it done, then I say get to it and stop carping.’

  Cole took a step nearer to the foreman, a move intended to assert his authority. The critter who had tried and failed to dry-gulch him needed to know his place. Sharp eyes drilled into the simmering foreman though his orders were intended for them all. ‘We’ll work flat out until those steers are rounded up, night and day if’n needs be. You want some rest? Then sleep in the saddle. I’m sure you’ve all done it before. And I’ll be there right alongside of you. Let nobody say that Cole Jardine is an office-bound johnny.’

 

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