Riding the Timberline Read online

  ‘How are you holding up?’

  ‘Up to now I haven’t fallen out of my saddle. Let’s leave it at that.’

  ‘If things go well we should reach Madison Springs mid-morning tomorrow.’

  ‘If things go well.’

  Tyrell picked up the slight trepidation in her voice.

  ‘Cassie, I’m not about to back off. Or leave you. Whatever happens I’m staying beside you all the way. Let’s get that straight before anything else.’

  She stared at him, realization of his declared intent taking her voice for a moment.

  ‘Thank you, Will.’

  Her hand reached out to lay against his arm, and he saw the gleam of tears in her eyes.

  ‘I know this country,’ he said. ‘Places we can rest up for the night before we head down into Madison Springs. Way it’s looking there’s a real bad storm heading this way. I’ll find cover to keep us dry.

  Tyrell was not wrong about the storm. It hit just as the light began to fade. By that time they were set for the night in a wide, deep cavern that cut into the high slope they had travelled. There were the remains of a fire showing others had used the cavern. After getting Cassie settled and covered with blankets Tyrell gathered wood and made a fire. He brought in enough fuel to keep the fire going through the night. He put water on to heat while he tended to the horses. With the water boiled he made coffee for them both.

  The promised storm struck with little warning. Rain tumbled from the clouded sky, hard enough to bounce when it hit the ground. It stayed its course for a few hours. Intense and solid. The sound it made was close enough to make it hard to converse.

  Cassie managed a couple of coffee refills before she gave in to the weariness brought on by the long travel and the pain she was suffering from her leg. She made no complaints. When he saw she was sleeping Tyrell made sure she was well covered by the blankets, added more wood to the fire and topped up his own drink before sitting with his back to the solid wall of the cave, his rifle close by. Tyrell was confident Callender’s bunch would be slowed by the storm. They were not as familiar with this part of the country and despite their eagerness to catch up, riding the slopes in a powerful storm would be extremely foolhardy. He didn’t discount them completely but figured they would ride out the storm before pushing forward.

  He attempted to stay awake but fatigue caught up with him in the end and his eyes closed. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when Cassie’s voice disturbed him as she called his name.

  Tyrell came awake, eyes opening to find the cave still in shadow. The fire had burned down low and it had turned chill.

  ‘Cassie, you all right?’

  She responded with a sleepy word.

  Tyrell teased the fire alive and let a rising warmth spread through the cave. He heated water and made a half pot of coffee. enough to allow them a couple of mugs of the hot brew.

  ‘Make the best of it ’cause it’s the last we got. No more until we reach town.’

  ‘That’s something nice to look forward to.’

  He didn’t fail to notice that she looked pale. Dark shadows beneath her eyes and the failure to hide the pain she was still feeling that tightened her lips.

  ‘We’ll move soon as I have the horses ready,’ Tyrell said.

  ‘Don’t rush on my account.’

  They lingered until first light slipped into the cave.

  Tyrell broke camp. Doused the fire, then put the gear away. He gave the horses what feed he had left and watered them best he could.

  When he lifted Cassie she uttered a low sound of pain despite attempting to conceal it. Tyrell put her on the roan, securing the blankets around her leg. He felt her hand on his shoulder, fingers gripping firmly.

  ‘Thank you for all you’ve done for me, Will Tyrell,’ she said.

  He turned away with a quick nod and swung into his own saddle. They eased out of the cave into a fresh dawn, with a surprisingly light breeze following them. Tyrell led them at a steady pace, aware of Cassie’s pain. With the recent storm the slopes were bright with greenery and Tyrell rode with confidence, knowing this country well.

  There was ample timber around them, the ground soft following the storm. Grass rose high. It was lush country that bloomed with life.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Cassie said. ‘Must have been hard for you to leave it behind.’

  He didn’t answer but she saw the slight bunching of his shoulders. It was enough to tell her how he felt.

  A couple of hours later riding down the final slope and coming to a long meadow with knee-high grasses spreading before them they drew rein and looked down on the cluster of buildings below.

  Madison Springs.

  Tyrell’s former home.

  Cassie saw him rise in the stirrups as he cast his eyes on the town, slight shake of his head as he took it in.

  ‘Bigger than I recall,’ he said. ‘They’ve added to the town.’

  Cassie eased alongside and laid a hand on his arm.

  ‘And I’ve forced you to come back.’

  Tyrell glanced at her. ‘A man can’t run away and hide forever. Has to face things in due time.’

  They rode on, Cassie staying close at his side.

  The first building they passed was the livery stable with the big double doors wide open. Then the main street stretching ahead.

  Tyrell recognized faces. Saw a number that were new to him. The town was growing. A number of new buildings.

  He acknowledged a few raised hands. People he had known well and was pleased to see. A few ignored him and he understood they might still hold bad feelings. He couldn’t blame them because he still felt bad at the way he had walked away from his responsibilities. Yet that was in the past and there was nothing he could do about it.

  They reached Doc Lanier’s office. The medical man answered Tyrell’s knock at the door. The man looked no different than he had the day Tyrell had ridden away from Madison Springs and his moment of surprise at seeing the former lawman was over in an instant.

  ‘Doc, I got a patient for you. Got a broken leg and a mess of other injuries.’

  Lanier took an encompassing glance at Cassie’s blanket-swathed figure and moved to her side.

  ‘You help me get her inside,’ he said.

  They eased Cassie down from the saddle and inside his office, where Lanier called for his wife. Tyrell stood back as they took over. He suddenly felt at a loss what to do. Apart from sending a message to Cassie’s father. The man needed to know his daughter was in safe hands.

  That brought on thoughts of Mordechai Callender and his unreasoning demands. Tyrell got the feeling the man was going to show up in Madison Springs. He was plainly set on taking Cassie back and he now had the deaths of his men to avenge. That was not as overly dramatic as it might seem. Callender was a man with fixed views on putting things right he saw as having crossed the line. The true fact his men had pushed Tyrell into the things he had done meant nothing to the man. Defying Callender simply brought out his vengeful character and he wasn’t about to walk away. Anyone who crossed his shadow would be treated the same.

  What Callender had yet to learn was Will Tyrell’s own stubborn nature. He took objection to being threatened. Took exception to personal aggravation and would never back away from what he saw as a danger to his life and that of anyone close to him.

  In this instance Cassie Marchant.

  Without conscious though he felt a responsibility towards her safety. They had endured a difficult time together and Tyrell, accepting that experience, realized his feelings towards her. More than simply a need to protect her. The young woman, through her courage and her determination, had made Tyrell realize he did not want to lose her. Yet he understood the fact she might not offer the same feelings towards him. It was a sobering fact Tyrell realized and surprised himself by the disappointment he became aware of.

  That made him even more edgy. He stood on the edge of the boardwalk unsure of himself for the moment.

  When
he saw the familiar frontage of the saloon he had used in the past he found himself heading for it. Maybe a drink would settle his thoughts. Allow him time to collect them and give him the chance to decide how to deal them.

  ‘I heard tell Will Tyrell’s back in town,’ Mac Vernell said.

  Vernell was the saloon’s owner-operator. A man who had been in Madison Springs many years and knew much about its history.

  ‘Tyrell? Figured he was dead,’ a voice said from the far end of the bar.

  They all recognized it as Vincent Corbin, owner of one of the largest cattle outfits in the valley. Never a fan of Tyrell, he had lost no sleep when the former lawman had ridden out.

  ‘He did right by this town,’ Mac said.

  ‘Really? I recall you all felt different that night,’ Corbin said.

  ‘I think about that a lot. You know what? We were wrong,’ Anson Douglas said.

  ‘Maybe he’s come for his old job back,’ Corbin said. And he had that hungry smile on his face. ‘That or it’s his ghost come to haunt you all.’

  ‘If’n that’s so he’s the solidest ghost I ever seen.’

  Heads turned to look at the speaker.

  Anson Douglas owned the town livery stable. His business had existed almost as long as the town. Douglas, a lean and bony man of indeterminate age, had a keen business sense and also never missed a word of gossip. He stood just inside the door, slightly stooped in his baggy suit, the sun at his back.

  ‘Appears he rode in large as life and weren’t alone. Had a young woman with him. Looked to me she was hurt some. Leg all splinted up and she looked kind of hard done by. Carried her off to Doc Lanier’s office I heard.’

  ‘He say anything?’ Corbin said.

  Douglas managed a smile.

  ‘Well if he did it wasn’t to ask about your health, Corbin.’

  There was some appreciative laughter. Corbin was less than popular. He possessed few of the social graces and had an abrasive manner.

  ‘So what the hell does he want back here?’

  ‘What does it matter?’ Douglas said, bellying up to the bar. ‘Tyrell hasn’t broke any laws. He used to be the law hereabouts.’ He ordered a beer. Turning about he leaned against the bar and studied the glass. ‘Mac,’ he said, ‘when did you wash this last?’

  The bartender leaned over and studied the glass.

  ‘Looks fine to me. Anyhow, since when you been so fussy?’

  Douglas shrugged and tasted the beer.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Mac, I can taste the grit.’

  Mac chuckled. ‘Anse, don’t you ever tire of that old joke?’

  ‘It’s a mite funnier than listening to Corbin gripin’ about nothing.’

  ‘Will Tyrell had friends in this town. We let him down when he needed us. I’m ashamed at the way I behaved,’ Loren Packer said.

  Corbin shook his head. ‘Damned if you ain’t like a bunch of old women.’ He rounded on them. ‘He got paid to do a job. He took it too far. Then he upped and left. I want to know why he’s back.’

  No one made further comment. Corbin became aware of the heavy silence that had fallen, then felt the prickles of tension pop across the back of his thick neck. He pushed away from the bar, coming about and saw Will Tyrell no more than a few feet from him, standing easy. He had the familiar .45 caliber Colt’s revolver holstered on his right hip and his Henry rifle in his left hand.

  ‘So why don’t you just ask me, Corbin?’ Tyrell said. ‘Save us all a lot of time.’

  He broke his stance then, moving to the bar and laid the rifle on the scarred top.

  ‘Will,’ Mac said. ‘What can I get you?

  Tyrell nodded. ‘Just a beer, Mac.’

  ‘Staying around a while?’ Mac said.

  Tyrell took the filled glass and held it up, staring at the beer for a time

  ‘Been a while since I had me one of these,’ he said. He took a long swallow, considering Mac’s question. ‘I got business. Soon as it’s done I’ll be leaving.’

  ‘What business?’ Corbin said.

  ‘My own. And one thing hasn’t changed,’ Tyrell said. ‘No improvement in your manners, Corbin.’

  Corbin’s face reddened. He was making a fool of himself, purely and simply, but as usual he lacked the good sense to leave it alone and step back.

  ‘Tyrell, you got no right comin’...’

  Tyrell banged his glass down on the bar, spilling some of the beer. He snatched up the Henry and when he turned about there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

  ‘No right what, Corbin? Coming back here? Maybe you need to explain why. I don’t recall doing anything wrong except getting myself shot and some drunk kids killed. I figure every man here wants to understand where I did wrong.’

  ‘You...,’ Corbin had stepped into the trap and he had no way out except to back down. He looked around the silent saloon and saw no support. He glanced in the direction of the door.

  ‘That’s the way out, Corbin,’ Tyrell said. ‘I were you I’d use it. And in future, Corbin, when you see me you walk soft.’

  Corbin hesitated a moment longer. He cleared his throat and fumbled in his coat for coins. He tossed them on the bar as he turned and pushed his way through the crowd.

  Tyrell picked up his glass and took another drink.

  Beside him Anson Douglas took a breath, searching for the right words. They were hard coming so he figured the only way was to come out and say it.

  ‘I got no right to expect you to make it easy for us, Will, but we was wrong. We treated you bad that night and after. We should have stood by you.’

  Loren Packer stepped forward. He was the town’s lawyer.

  ‘He speaks for us all, Will. That was a bad night and it did us no credit. Things were...’

  ‘Loren, I shouldn’t have let it happen the way it did. Time was I would have cooled those three down without a shot being fired and we’d all have gone to bed and slept it off. I got no excuses. The job got ahead of me. I lost my edge. That night was my comeuppance.’

  ‘Still and all, Will, we should have done something.’

  ‘Hell, Loren, it’s over. Time we all moved on.’

  ‘Take my hand on it?’

  Tyrell didn’t hesitate. He gripped Packer’s outstretched hand and they shook. The action broke the silence and the saloon was back to its noisy self.

  Packer ordered a bottle of good whisky and three glasses. He and Douglas guided Tyrell to a table in one corner of the saloon and they sat down.

  ‘So where you been hidin’ yourself?’ Douglas said.

  ‘Took a ride to the high country. A way to the north. A quiet place where a man can clear his mind and decide the way he wants to move his life.’

  ‘And did you?’

  Tyrell toyed with the thick glass in front of him.

  ‘Found me a place I like. Built a cabin. Got everything a body needs up there. And I found a few herds of wild horses running around the high grassland. Started in catching some. Quieted them down and started trading on the other side of the divide. Always a need for good stock. Sold to the Army. Stage line. Local ranches and the like.’

  ‘Sounds as if you made yourself a good life up there,’ Douglas said. He sucked in a breath. ‘Seein’ as how we cleared the air, you ever need to sell some of those horses...’

  Packer chuckled. ‘You never miss a chance, Anse.’

  ‘Business is business.’

  ‘We’ll talk,’ Tyrell said. ‘Only I got something that needs to be settled first.’

  ‘Corbin?’ Douglas said.

  Tyrell shook his head. He told them about his chance meeting with Cassie. How he had brought her to his cabin and the way Callender’s men had shown up. He told it all, not hiding anything.

  Douglas and Packer listened in silence until Tyrell finished his telling.

  ‘When you show up,’ Douglas said, ‘hell ain’t far behind.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  Packer said, ‘I don’t
see what else you could have done, Will. You think these Callenders will come looking for the girl?’

  ‘They proved willing back at my place. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let them railroad Cassie.’

  Douglas said, ‘Will, you are still as hard headed as you always were.’

  Tyrell finished his drink and pushed away from the table.

  ‘Mebbe that’s part of my problem. Have to learn to walk softer. I put my horses in the stable, Anse. Haven’t tended to them properly. I’ll go over and get them settled. Then I need to go see how Cassie is.’

  ‘Maybe we’ll come by so you can introduce us to this little lady,’ Douglas said.

  ‘Mebbe so. You fellers finish your drinks and I’ll see you in a while.’

  He turned and walked out of the saloon, stepped along the boardwalk, heading for the Douglas livery at the far end of the street.

  He went in through the big front doors and through the quiet stable, emerging on the open back lot where his and Cassie’s horses stood in the main corral.

  The roan gave him a wicked look when it recognized him.

  ‘I’m here now, so quit giving me the evil eye.’

  He let himself into the corral and started in off-saddling the horses. He stripped off their bridles, gave them a rub down with handfuls of clean straw. He brought a bucket of oats and fed them.

  Stepping out of the corral he secured the gate.

  Time to go and see how Cassie was faring.

  Tyrell heard the creak of the livery door. He glanced over his shoulder, squinting his eyes as he tried to make out the figure standing there. The sun was in his face, making it hard to get a clear view. From the large silhouette he knew it wasn’t Douglas. The livery owner was as skinny as a willow switch.

  ‘If you’re looking for Anson he’s over to the saloon.’

  ‘Ain’t him we want, Tyrell.’ This voice came from behind him and he knew it instantly.

  Cletus Dorn. One of Corbin’s top hands, fiercely loyal to the brand Dorn was a hard man, honed that way by the life he led. The kind it never did to turn your back on. When Tyrell had worn his badge he’d had to brace Dorn on more than one occasion when the man had drunk himself into a fighting mood. When that happened Cletus Dorn turned vicious.