It was D’Arcy I had in mind … for, playing a hunch only, I believed D’Arcy had been murdered.
Yet it was more than a hunch. D’Arcy was a man who would never have neglected to thank his hostess. He would never have left without paying his respects. Something had happened to prevent it. But I had no evidence. Only that flimsy hunch, and the fact that D’Arcy had vanished suddenly after Morgan Park had shown an interest in him.
Now that I had started I did not intend to hold back. As best I could, I intended to put Rud Maclaren on his guard.
“It is not only rustlers,” I said, “but those who have other schemes as well, schemes they can only bring to success under the cover of this fighting.”
Morgan Park’s features were stiff. Actually, I knew little or nothing, yet somehow I had touched a nerve, and Morgan Park was a worried man. If my guess was correct, he now knew that I knew something and he would suspect me of knowing much more than I actually did.
“I’ll think this over,” Maclaren said finally. “This is no time to make a decision.”
“Sure.” I turned toward Moira and took her arm. “And now if you’ll excuse us?”
We moved toward the door, and Morgan Park’s fury suddenly snapped. His face livid, he started forward. Putting Moira quickly to one side, I was ready for him.
“Hold it!”
Canaval stepped between us, stopping Morgan Park in his tracks.
“That’s all, Park. We’ll have no fighting here.”
“What’s the matter? Brennan need a nursemaid now?”
“No.” Canaval was stiff. “Brennan promised me there would be no trouble. I’m not going to let you cause any.”
There was a moment of silence, and Moira moved back to my side. What Morgan Park might have done or said, I do not know, but whatever it was, I was ready. Never before had I wanted to smash and destroy as I did when I faced that man. All I could remember was him sitting astride me, swinging those huge, methodical fists.
“Brennan,” Maclaren spoke abruptly, “I’ve no reason to like you, but you talk straight from the shoulder and you are my daughter’s guest. Remain as long as you like.”
Later, I understood that right at that moment Park must have made his decision. There could be no other alternative for him. He drew back and slowly relaxed, and he did not say another word.
Moira walked with me to my horse, and she was worried. “He’s a bad enemy, Matt. I’m sorry this happened.”
“He was my enemy, anyway. That he is a bad enemy, I can guess. I believe another friend of yours found out about that.”
She looked up quickly, real fear in her eyes. “I don’t understand you.”
“Did you ever have a note of acknowledgment from D’Arcy?”
“No … but what has that to do—”
“Strange, isn’t it? I’d have thought a man of his sort would not neglect such an obvious courtesy.”
There had been, I think, some similar thought in her mind. I had sensed it when I first mentioned that other friend. It was inexplicable that a man like D’Arcy should drop so suddenly from sight.
We stood there without talking, no more words between us for several minutes, but needing none. Our hearts were beating together, our blood pulsing together, our faces touched by the gentle hand of the same wind.
“This will pass,” I said, “as the night will pass, and when it is gone, I shall take you back to Cottonwood Wash to live.”
“You’re a strange man. You look like an ordinary cowhand, but you talk like a man of education.”
“I read a book once.” I grinned at her. “A couple of them, in fact. And don’t fool yourself about cowhands.”
Tightening the cinch, I swung my horse for mounting.
“But could you settle down? Could you stay?”
My foot went into the stirrup and I swung into the leather.
“On the day I rode into Hattan’s Point and saw you, I knew I would stay. Why does a man drift around? Only because he is looking for something. For money, for a home, for a girl.”
Night had closed in from the hills, moving its dark battalions of shadows under the trees and in the lee of buildings, then reaching out to cover the ranch yard. A few stars had come out.
Reaching down, I caught Moira’s hand and swung her up, her foot slipping into the stirrup. Her breath caught as I pulled her into my arms, then came quickly and deeply, her lips parting slightly as she came into my arms. I felt her warm body melt against mine and her lips were seeking, urgent, passionate. My fingers went to her hair, and all the waiting, all the fighting, all our troubles dissolved into nothingness.
She pulled back suddenly, frightened and excited, her breasts rising and falling as she fought for control.
“This isn’t good, Matt! We’re too—too violent. We’ve got to be more calm.”
I laughed then, full of the zest of living and loving and holding the beauty of her in my arms in the early night.
“You’re not exactly a calm person.”
“I?” She seemed to hesitate. “Well, all right, then. Neither of us is calm.”
“Need we be?”
And then we heard someone coming down from the house, someone whistling lightly. Boots grated of the gravel path and I let Moira down to the ground quickly.
It was Canaval.
“Better ride … Morgan Park will be leaving soon. Might be trouble.”
I gathered the reins. “I’m practically gone.”
“Mean what you said back there? About peace and all?”
“What can we gain by fighting?”
Canaval turned to Moira. “Let me talk to Brennan alone, will you? There’s something he should know.”
When she had gone back to the house, Canaval said quietly, “She reminds me of her mother.”
Surprised, I looked down at him. “You knew her mother?”
“She was my sister.”
“But … does Moira know?”
“Rud and I used to ride together. I was too fast with a gun and killed a man with too many relatives so I left the country we came from Rud married my sister after I left, and from time to time we kept in touch. Then Rud needed help against rustlers, and sent for me. He persuaded me to stay.” He hesitated, then added, “Moira doesn’t know.”
We were silent, listening to the night, as men of our land would. I knew then that Canaval liked me or he would never have told me this.
FOURTEEN
It was after midnight when finally I rode away from the Boxed M, leaving the main trail and cutting across country to the head of Gypsum Canyon.
Before leaving I had told Canaval what I had heard about the Slades, and he had listened, without comment. Whether he believed me I could not say, but at least he had been warned. Each of us knew all there was to know about Slade. The man was a killer for hire, a cold-blooded and efficient man with a gun.
There is a magic about the desert at night. Until you have seen it, stood alone in the midst of it, you cannot know what enchantment is. There is a stillness there and a nearness of stars such as no other place on earth offers.
I rode quietly and steadily, not hurrying, but feeling the coolness of the night, and remembering the girl I had left behind me, remembering Moira.
Mulvaney was waiting for me. “Knew the horse’s walk.” He nodded toward the hills. “Too quiet out there.”
We turned in then, and rested, but during the night I awakened with the sound of a shot ringing in my ears. Mulvaney was sleeping soundly so I did not disturb him, nor was I even sure that I had heard it. A real shot? Or something in a dream? All was quiet, and after listening for a while I crawled back into the warmth of my blankets, of no mind to go exploring in the middle of a chill desert night.
In the morning I mentioned it to Mulvaney.
“Did you get up?”
“Yes, but I didn’t hear anything. It might have been one of the Benaras boys. Sometimes they hunt at night.”
Two hours later I knew better. Maverick Spring lay in that no man’s land where the Boxed M bordered the Two-Bar, and I had ridden that way, for there was bog on one side of the spring and twice I’d had to pull steers out of there.
The morning was fresh and clear as I was coming up out of the wash. Heading across for the spring, I saw a riderless horse.
He was standing his head down and, suddenly worried, I picked my horse up to a canter. Drawing near, I saw that a dark bundle lay on the ground near the horse. The dark bundle was a man, and he was dead. Even before I turned the body over, I knew it was Rud Maclaren.