The Tylers 1 Read online

  A while later Judith joined us and we talked of many things. I learned that Thorpe’s father had been born in this country two weeks after his parents had arrived from England. I told them about Lancashire and of my early life there with my brothers and my father. Our mother had died shortly after I’d been born. I had never known her but I had heard my father talk of her. He had never really got over her death and had it not been for Seth and Jacob and myself he would have had little to live for. As it was he died in a pit explosion one night while he was working an extra shift, trying to earn extra money.

  ‘So we decided to come to America,’ I said. ‘There was nothing at home and we’d heard all about the chances there were here, so we got aboard a ship and somehow we made it.’

  ‘But you were only nine years old when you landed,’ Judith said. ‘How did you live? How did you . . . ‘ She broke off, her face suddenly flushing. ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’

  ‘I’m glad you find me interesting enough to ask,’ I told her.

  She smiled. ‘I’ll go and make some fresh coffee.’

  Thorpe watched her go. ‘She gets little enough company of her own age, Brig. I sometimes get the feeling I’m doing her harm keeping her out here, away from everything. But she is all I live for.’

  ‘May I ask about Mrs. Thorpe, sir?’

  ‘She died when Judith was ten. That was ten years ago. A long time. We were in New England then. I had a farm my father had left me. I suppose we were what you would call extremely comfortable. But after Martha died I became restless. In the end I sold the farm and we moved here. We travelled the area for a year or two, until I found this place. It took time but the house was built and then I started to work towards the herd you saw.’

  ‘You have a place to be proud of.’

  ‘I think so, Brig.’

  Thorpe invited me to stay the night and I was more than glad to. There was something about this place and the people that I liked. I hoped that I would be able to visit this place again. I liked William Thorpe. I could talk to him and found him easy to listen to. But I had to admit that the main reason I wanted to come back was Judith. I was finding that I couldn’t get her out of my mind and what was more I found I didn’t want to get her out of my mind. Just looking at her did things to me, stirring me in a way no girl had ever stirred me before.

  We ate supper then sat drinking more coffee before a roaring log fire. Though the day had been warm, night brought a chill to the air. We talked for a long time. It was William Thorpe who excused himself first, saying that he had to be up early.

  I wanted to see to my horse before I turned in. Judith brought me a lantern and I made my way over to the barn, leading my horse. I unsaddled him, gave him feed and water. On my way back to the house I saw a dark figure by the corral and I knew it was Judith.

  ‘You have a beautiful country up here,’ I said as I joined her.

  She nodded. She was standing close to me and I could smell a faint perfume. The night breeze caught her dark hair and some of it drifted across my face. I could feel that stirring in me again and I knew that I was going to have to step careful.

  ‘What’s it like in a gold-camp, Brig?’ Judith asked. ‘May I call you Brig?’

  ‘Rather that than Mr. Tyler.’

  She laughed softly, a sound as warm as a summer breeze. ‘Then you must call me Judith.’

  ‘I will. About Hope. Well all I can tell you is it’s wild and noisy and dirty and violent.’

  ‘It sounds exciting.’

  ‘Maybe so but it is no place for a lady.’

  She gazed at me with those beguiling eyes. ‘Thank you for that.’

  ‘May I walk you to the house, Judith?’ Saying her name was strange to me. But not unpleasant.

  ‘You may.’ She reached out and took my arm. Her hand was slim and gentle on my arm but it did things to me that made me want to run up the nearest tree and yell.

  We went inside and she fastened the door. I followed her through the house to the room I was to use. I opened the door, then paused.

  ‘Goodnight, Judith,’ I said.

  She raised her eyes to mine and we gazed at each other for a while.

  ‘Goodnight, Brig,’ she said finally.

  I undressed and climbed into the bed that had been made up for me. I could hear movement beyond the wall where I lay and I realized it was coming from the room that Judith used. I listened for a while, then turned on my side and tried to sleep. I was well fed, secure, had little to worry me, yet I found I was restless, and sleep came hard that night.

  Chapter Five

  After breakfast I saddled up my horse and prepared to carry on with my journey. I had already said goodbye to William Thorpe, for he had ridden out much earlier to do some tallying. I had made a firm promise to visit him on my return and I knew that I would always be welcome in his house.

  I led my horse across to the house and tethered him. Judith came out before I could go inside. She held a neat, paper-wrapped package in her slim hands.

  ‘I’ve made you up a few sandwiches,’ she said.

  I took them and put them in my saddlebags. Turning back to her I took off my hat and hoped I could find the right words.

  ‘May I come to call on you, Judith?’

  ‘Please do, Brig, I shall look out for you.’

  I made to go, then on impulse I took her in my arms and I kissed her. And she responded in a way that took my breath away, pressing her soft mouth hard on my own, her arms holding me like she would never let go. Something told me I would never forget this girl and nothing would ever be able to stop me from coming back to her.

  Finally I drew away from her and got onto my horse. I gathered rein and looked down at her. Judith smiled at me and I said, ‘I’ll be back.’ She nodded gently and raised a hand as I turned my horse away. She stayed where she was, on the porch, and she was still there when my horse dipped us out of sight beyond a grassy ridge.

  I rode like a man in a dream. I guess in a way I was dreaming, for it took a long time before I could accept what had happened. It made a difference. That girl back there had changed my life in a way that no other single thing had ever affected my life before. It took some grasping. But what made it so good was the fact that Judith plainly felt the same way about me. I felt that my life was a little more complete and that it would never be the same again.

  I was even more determined to make good on my venture now. I knew that when I next visited the Thorpe ranch I would ask Judith to be my wife and I also knew that she would say yes. Maybe I was presuming a lot but sometimes a man gets a feeling and he knows that he is right. This was one of those feelings.

  I rode all that day and nearly until noon of the next.

  My way took me clear through the range of hills and down the far slopes into a wide and green valley. Scattered around the valley were a number of ranches and up towards the far end of the valley lay the small town that served the out-lying spreads.

  Just before mid-day I rode along the single street of that small town and dismounted before the saloon. I was dry and a glass of beer would go down well. I gazed up and down the wide, dusty street before I went in. It was a nice town. Quiet, unhurried, the buildings neat and painted. It was an established town, this place called Tarrant. There was a stone-built jail-house, a telegraph office, and a bank. I would be visiting there before I left, for William Thorpe had given me a letter of introduction to the bank’s president.

  First though I wanted that beer, so I went up the worn, sun-warped steps and into the saloon’s cool interior. It was pretty well full but I found myself a place at the bar and ordered a beer when the barman came my way.

  ‘New in town?’ he asked and I nodded. ‘Name’s Joe Baily,’ he added.

  ‘Brig Tyler. Nice little town you’ve got.’

  ‘We think so.’ He put my beer before me. ‘You on the lookout for a job?’

  ‘Do I look that down-at-heel?’ I tasted my beer. ‘I�
�m in the market for some good beef,’ I told Baily. ‘Was up at William Thorpe’s place the other day and he gave me a couple of names. George Dodd. Ben Choate. You know them?’

  Baily nodded. ‘You’re in luck. That’s George Dodd over there by the window,’ he said and pointed.

  I followed his finger. Thanking him I wandered across to where Dodd was sitting alone, nursing a beer. He was a big man, broad-shouldered. His thick hair and mustache were gray, his seamed face brown and full of character.

  ‘Mr. Dodd, may I have a few words with you?’

  He glanced up at me. ‘Do I know you, son?’

  ‘No, sir. I’m Brig Tyler and I’m on the lookout for some beef. William Thorpe told me to look you up.’

  ‘Bill did, eh? Sit down, son. How is Bill?’

  ‘He’s well, sir.’

  Dodd seemed to be sizing me up. He took a gulp of his beer. He leaned back in his seat. ‘You want to buy beef?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I said and I explained my plan to him. ‘I want to get as much beef into Hope as I can before winter sets in.

  ‘You’ve got a good head on those big shoulders, boy,’ Dodd said. ‘Don’t know why nobody’s ever thought of doing what you intend. I wish you luck. You ride out to my place tomorrow and we’ll look over some stock.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. May I buy you another beer?’

  Dodd grinned. ‘I can see you’re going to be a good businessman. Already softening me up.’

  I stayed with Dodd for over an hour. When I left the saloon I made my way down to the bank and went inside. It was typical of most banks I’d been in. It smelled of dusty ledgers, ink, and I swear it smelled of money too.

  There was nobody in the place save for a skinny, pale young man behind the counter. He watched me as I crossed the hardwood floor and I could swear that he imagined I’d come to hold the place up. I suppose I did look somewhat down-at-heel, with my dusty clothing and run-over boots. I hadn’t shaved since I’d left the Thorpe place. And as well as my holstered handgun I was carrying my rifle in my left hand, a habit I had recently acquired.

  ‘I’d like to see the boss man,’ I told the pale-faced man.

  He gave me a look up and down. By now he’d decided I wasn’t out to rob him but that didn’t make him any more polite.

  ‘I’m sure whatever your business, I can accommodate you,’ he said and I took a dislike to him straightaway. His voice was thin and pale, just like he looked.

  I lay my rifle on his polished counter and cuffed my stained hat back. ‘Now look, sonny,’ I said quietly, ‘I asked nice and polite. I want to think you didn’t understand, so I’ll ask again. I’d like to have a word with the president. Not the hired hand. The boss. Now you go and ask him if he’ll see me and give him this letter.’ I placed William Thorpe’s letter on the counter. ‘Light out, boy, else I’m liable to get upset.’

  He took the letter and made his way over to the door that plainly led to the office of the bank’s president. The name on the door read: George Q. Heath. Paleface went in and closed the door and I could hear the low murmur of voices. It wasn’t long before the door opened and Paleface came out.

  ‘Mr. Heath will see you now, Mr. Tyler,’ he said.

  I went past him and into the office. The door shut gently behind me.

  Heath’s office was all carpet and oak panels. A big oak desk took up a lot of room and the man behind it took up a fair piece himself. Heath, George Q. was fat and pink and bald. But he looked like a man who knew his job and where money was concerned I was sure he was no man’s fool.

  ‘Please take a seat, Mr. Tyler,’ Heath said. He took my hand as I sat down and his grip was surprisingly firm. ‘How is Bill Thorpe?’

  ‘He’s well, sir.’

  ‘And that pretty daughter of his?’

  I took off my hat. ‘She is well too.’

  ‘Good. Now, Mr. Tyler, I’m sure you didn’t come here to indulge in idle chit-chat. Bill’s letter speaks highly of you and he says you have ambition. How can I help you?’

  I took my pouch of gold out of my shirt where I’d been carrying it since I’d arrived in town. It was no featherweight and I was glad to be rid of it. I put it on Heath’s desk.

  ‘I’d like to put this in your keeping. Open an account.’

  Heath inspected the gold. ‘Looks to be high grade,’ he said. ‘You any idea how much there is here?’

  ‘One of my partners knows something about these things. He said that bag should fetch around eight thousand, give or take a few dollars.’

  ‘I’ll have the assay office take a look. Be able to tell you in the morning just what it is worth but I don’t think you’ll be far wrong.’

  He put the bag aside and got up, crossing over to a small table that held cut-glass decanters and heavy glasses. He brought me a tumbler of what turned out to be some very fine mellow brandy.

  ‘What are your plans, Mr. Tyler?’

  I outlined my idea and he listened interestedly.

  ‘You’ve chosen a good man to deal with in George Dodd. He’ll treat you fair.’

  ‘That’s all I want from any man,’ I said.

  ‘You got anywhere for the night?’

  ‘Not yet,’ I told him.

  ‘Try the Tarrant House. It’s clean and comfortable. Might cost a little more but it is worth it.’

  I nodded, wondering if my cash money would run to a place like the Tarrant House. Heath must have seen my thoughts in my face. He gave a knowing little smile.

  ‘You need any money to get you by?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, I guess I could use a few dollars.’

  Heath wrote something on a sheet of notepaper and handed it to me. ‘We’ll credit it to your account.’

  ‘Grateful, Mr. Heath,’ I said.

  ‘That’s what we’re here for,’ he said.

  We talked for a little time. He was interested to hear about the doings up at Hope. I reckoned it was that he was a banker and anything to do with money was interesting to him. Before I left we made arrangements for me to call in the next day.

  On the way out I passed over Heath’s note to the Paleface. He read it, then opened his cash drawer and began counting out a pile of banknotes. He stopped when he reached two hundred dollars. I hadn’t realized just how much Heath had put me down for. I’d never had that much money in my hand before but I didn’t let it worry me none. I’d always taken things as they come and a change for the better was not to be sneezed at.

  I left the bank and collected my horse. I walked him down to the livery and left him in the hands of the old man who ran the place, with instructions to look after him well. Then I took me back up the street and called in at the barber shop for a shave and a trim.

  On my way up to the hotel I passed a hardware store and I turned about and went inside. The feller inside became real helpful when I told him what I was after. I came out with a wrapped parcel under my arm that contained a couple of pairs of new Levi’s, a couple of new shirts, new socks, and a pair of new, hand-stitched boots.

  The Tarrant House was big and expensive, by Western standards. The clerk at the back of the desk was just about as snotty as the one in the bank. I don’t think he was too happy about my trailing my dirty boots across his plush carpet. He didn’t seem too keen on giving me a room until I told him who had sent me over. I got a nice room that overlooked the street and it had its own bathroom attached. That took some swallowing, I can tell, but I figured I might as well enjoy what I was paying for. I sent down to have the bath filled, then spent a good hour soaking off the trail dirt.

  I lazed around until it got dark, then put on my new clothes and boots and went out to eat. I found a quiet little eating house a few doors down from the hotel and I had a good meal, finishing off with a pot of hot coffee.

  Later I made my way to the saloon. The evening trade was starting to pick up and it was a few minutes before I was able to have a word with the barman, Joe Baily. I ordered a beer, then told him I was on the lookout
for a couple of good cowhands.

  ‘Your luck’s in again,’ he said. He pointed to a couple of men sitting at a table by one of the saloon’s big windows. ‘They came in this afternoon. Both of ‘em looking for work.’

  ‘They any good?’

  Baily nodded. ‘I known ‘em both for some time. Good workers. They know cows and they stay on the job.’

  I tasted my beer. ‘I’ll go and see what they think of me.’

  ‘The stocky one with the mustache is Joe Crown,’ Baily said. ‘Other one is Lew Riley.’

  I took my beer and made my way across to where the two men were seated. It was plain to see that they were cowhands, for their clothing spoke of their trade. Each man wore high-heeled boots. Crown’s had big Mexican spurs affixed, though he’d had the sharp tips filed off the wheels. He was also wearing tough leather chaps that looked as if they had seen a lot of work. Both men were armed. Crown wore his handgun on his right hip, fairly low. Lew Riley, lean and dark, had his gun on his left side, high up, the butt forward for a cross draw.

  I reached their table. Crown saw me first and I saw his eyes flick over me fast. He was a man who was on the alert all the time. Before I spoke, I knew he had me sized up.

  ‘Heard you were looking for work,’ I said. Tm hiring.’

  Crown leaned back in his chair. ‘Little young, aren’t you?’ he asked. There was no sarcasm in his voice. He was simply stating a fact and waiting for an answer.

  I tipped back my hat. ‘Way I see it, a dollar bill is the same whether it comes from a boy or a ninety-year old man.’

  Crown grinned easily. ‘I guess you are right. You better sit and tell us what you want.’

  I took an empty chair. They told me their names and I nodded. ‘I’m Brig Tyler. Been working over to Hope. Me and my brothers and two partners have a mine going.’

  ‘Any luck?’ Riley asked.

  I smiled. ‘Fair.’

  ‘I hope you ain’t lookin’ for miners,’ Crown said.

  ‘No. I want men who can work cattle.’ I told them my scheme and offered them good money. ‘I’m going over to George Dodd’s spread in the morning to look over some beef so I’d like to get settled before I turn in.’