Chapter 12 – Deadly Game

Bret stayed with Bart another night before Molly would even entertain the thought of the injured man returning to the bunkhouse. Even when Bart made his way gingerly back there, Bret wanted to stay on Molly's settee one more time. She insisted Bret return with Bart so that he wouldn't be unattended, and maintained she would be perfectly safe.

She was, but only because Bircken had yet to make his final pitch before the killing started. Jeremiah showed up at her door early the next morning, just as the two gamblers were making their way to the house, and feigned surprise at Bart's condition. "Was it robbery?" he asked innocently.

"Not sure," Bret answered skeptically. "Has there been much of that around here?"

"Not much, no," Jeremiah answered honestly, "but you just never know when things will change, do you? There's so many new people in the valley . . . " he stared directly at the two of them. "Well, I don't want to keep you from your work."

"Oh, you're not," Bart answered as they followed him to the front door.

'I see what Conrad means about him bein' the troublemaker,' Bircken though to himself. "Good, good," he finished as he knocked on the door.

When Molly reached the door she was laughing. "Didn't I tell you two . . . oh, it's you, Jeremiah. Come in."

Bircken walked in, followed closely by Bret and Bart. "Are you following me?" he asked them.

"Nope," Bret answered. "Just tryin' to get breakfast."

"Come in, boys, it's almost ready. What can I do for you, Jeremiah?"

"I'd like to discuss some business with you, Molly. Privately."

"Anything you want to talk to me about can be discussed in front of Hancock and Delacroix."

"Really? Well, alright. You know that we have a consortium of sorts for the production and sale of cattle to the army at Fort Yuma. We've discussed your property before. In light of all the trouble you've been havin' recently, I thought you might be willin' to reconsider your dismissal of our offer. We're prepared to offer you fifteen percent more than we did the last time."

Molly wanted to throw something at Jeremiah; instead she offered him coffee. He declined as she poured some for Bret and Bart, who were sitting with them at the kitchen table. She cleared her throat and decided exactly how she wanted to word her refusal. "I appreciate your offer, Jeremiah, but I really have no reason to sell. Jamie and Joe have taken over running the ranch and the day-to-day operations of the place so that I can concentrate entirely on the cross-breeding program. I have no intention of selling."

Bircken sat very still and watched Molly as she smiled. "You're absolutely sure you won't sell your land?"

"Absolutely certain. Now if you don't mind, I have two hungry men waiting to be fed."

"I hope you don't come to regret that decision, Miss Hooper." Jeremiah got up from the table, tipped his hat and walked back out the way he'd come in. Bret and Bart exchanged glances.

"It was a warning," Bret stated firmly.

"Without any doubt," Bart added. "Maybe they'll pick on you the next time. Be careful, Joe."

"You, too," Bret replied.

"Are you sure there'll be a next time?" Molly asked plaintively.

Bret's head nodded; Bart said, "Yeah."

"How soon?"

"That's the question, isn't it?"

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"I got nowhere with her, Conrad. Those two have convinced her not to sell."

"I'm tellin' ya, it's that Hancock. The other one seems to be more rational about things."

"I think they both gotta go."

"You know that means all-out war," Sanders reminded him.

"What else are we supposed to do?"

"What if she had no stud for breedin'?"

"What are you gonna do, steal the horse?"

The marshal thought for a minute or two. "What if he came up lame? She wouldn't breed a lame stallion, would she?"

"And just how are you gonna do that?"

"I've got an idea. Are you willin' to let me try it?"

"Nance will have a fit. He wants to kill 'em all right now."

The marshal asked a pointed question – "Who's in charge here, Jeremiah, you or Nance Tesson?"

"Sometimes I wonder, Conrad. If you think it'll work, go ahead and try."

"It's worth a chance, isn't it, Jeremiah?"

"Yes, it's worth a chance. Go ahead."

XXXXXXXX

Later that week someone got into the corral and ran off half a dozen of the mares. When Bret discovered the horses gone the next morning he rounded up Bart and Molly and the three of them went looking for the missing mares. They'd gone quite a distance from the ranch, headed in the direction of Yuma, when Molly suddenly pulled Galead to a halt. Bart rode up behind her just as she hopped off the stallion. "What's wrong?"

She put the horse's foot back down as he asked the question. "Have you got a knife or anything I can use? He's got a rock wedged between his hoof and the shoe and it has to come out before he goes any further."

"No, nothing. Hey, Joe! Come on back here!"

Bret came riding over. "What happened?"

"Galead's picked up a rock and it's wedged where I can't get it out," Molly explained. "Have you got anything we can use?"

Just as Bret got down from his horse a shot sailed past the three riders. He grabbed Molly and pulled her behind the rocks while Bart scrambled down from Noble and joined them. "I guess the mares didn't get loose by accident, did they?" Bret asked as another shot rang out. Whoever was shooting was aiming in their general vicinity, but seemed to be making no attempt to hit any of them.

"No, I have nothing. We're not that far from Yuma; let me take a look at the hoof." Bret appeared to be more concerned with the hoof than the gunshots. After he had examined the horse he turned to Bart. "Somebody's got to go to the livery and get one a those hooks they use to get it out."

"I'll go," Bart answered quickly.

"I don't think you oughta ride all that far, there and back. Not with those ribs still botherin' you. I'll go to town and get it. You stay here and take care of Molly. I'll be back as fast as I can."

Bart nodded and Bret mounted Blackthorn. "Give me some cover, would ya?" he called down to his brother as the horse took off at a gallop. Bart pulled his Colt and fired several shots in the general direction the first gunfire had come from, and several blasts were returned but again, nothing close enough to worry about. Bart kept Molly behind the cover the rocks provided, and they sat and waited for Bret to return. After a few minutes Molly started asking Bart questions about Delacroix, and they finally got to the point of the whole conversation.

"Hancock?"

He should have been used to the sound of the name by this time. The girl had been calling him that for weeks, but he still had to remind himself to respond when he heard it. "Hmmm?"

"Do you think he can get it?"

"I don't know, Molly. Maybe, maybe not. We'll just have to wait and see when he gets back."

"How long have you known Delacroix?"

It took no time to answer that question. "All my life."

"Really? All your life?"

"Yeah. He was already there when I was born."

She had to give that a moment's thought. "That's a long time."

"Not as long as you might think." He pulled the spyglass open and watched the road from town. Still no sign of his brother. What was causing the delay?

"Hancock?"

"What now?"

"Does he have a girl?"

"A what?"

"A girl. You know, a wife, a fiancé, a girlfriend, anybody?"

"Nope. At least he didn't when we got here."

He pulled the spyglass open again. This time he saw something, far away at the base of the Sierra Estrella Mountains. Even with the spyglass he had to watch the object move until it got close enough to see clearly. It was the man he'd been waiting for, the one they were counting on to get what they needed and bring it back. That didn't answer anything, of course, just that he was on the way back. And even if he got it, were they going to be able to make it work?

He hoped so. For everybody's sake, but mostly their own. Because if this didn't work, it was all going to be over before it really had a chance to get started. Deep down inside both of the brothers knew that the next step in this rapidly escalating dangerous game they were playing would be death – for somebody.