On Monday the ranch hands that Bart hired in Settler's Creek moved into the bunkhouse and started work, which allowed Bret and Molly to leave the spread and take Galead into Yuma to be re-shod. They ate at the Cantina and were just finishing lunch when the Marshal appeared. "Delacroix, Molly," he greeted them as he went straight to the bar and got a cup of coffee. On his way back out he stopped at their table. "How's everything at the ranch, Molly?"
"Just fine, Conrad. Gearing up for the spring breeding to start."
"You stickin' around for that, Delacroix?" Sanders queried, trying to find out if anything had happened to Molly's stud without tipping his hand. Surely the horse should have come up lame by this time. Since Galead was still at the livery and Sanders had no idea why they were in town, the marshal had to do something to prompt a conversation, hoping to get some answers.
"Sure, Marshal," Bret answered, not inclined to elaborate.
"So, everything's alright out there? No more problems?"
Molly shook her head. "Not a thing to report, Conrad."
"Aha. Well, good luck with everything."
After Sanders was gone Bret grinned. "A little curious, wasn't he?"
"Do you think he . . . could he do that to a poor defenseless creature?"
"Molly, where money and greed's involved, some men could do anything. We need to be extra careful now that he thinks nothin's happened. I don't wanna see anybody else get hurt like Hancock."
"Do you really think they'll try . . . what we talked about?" She still had trouble believing that men she knew might try to kill any of them just to get more land.
"I do," Bret nodded. "Hancock agrees with me. I don't want ya goin' anywhere without one of us with ya. Agreed?"
The girl sighed. It broke her heart, but she knew he was right. "Agreed. How long do you think this will continue?"
Should he be honest with her? Would the truth terrify her? Or put steel in her backbone? That was more likely, he decided. "Until we're dead – or they are."
XXXXXXXX
It was not a happy group that met again at Jeremiah Bircken's ranch. Arguing broke out between Nance and Burns almost as soon as the latter arrived, and another voice was added to the mix when Branch Haven got there soon after. Jeremiah sat and listened to the sides argue back and forth; he had no intention of saying anything until Conrad Sanders arrived. They'd been waiting almost an hour when the marshal finally got there.
"Sorry for bein' late," Conrad announced once he walked in. "Had a fistfight break out in the saloon just as I was gettin' ready to leave."
"You coulda left that to Delgado," Burns interjected.
"Delgado was in the middle of it already," Conrad informed them, "I had to wade in and help him out."
Nance didn't want to wait any longer for a resolution to what he termed the 'Molly Hooper problem.' "What are we gonna do about the three of 'em?" he asked point blank.
"And hello to you, too, Nance," Conrad replied. "You in a hurry to commit murder? Did I ever tell ya it's against the law to kill people?"
"Shut up, Conrad," Burns spat out. "No time for you to play high-and-mighty. You want them out of the way just as much as the rest of us."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen, that's just about enough. We've discussed this before. We seem to be at an impasse in obtainin' Molly Hooper's ranch, and I don't see that we have much choice in the matter. Does anybody have an alternative suggestion to Nance's insistence that we take the final step and make arrangements to dispose of one or more of the three principals standin' in our way?"
Nance Tesson got another of those looks on his face. "What was all that jibberish, Bircken?"
"Any ideas besides killin' them?" The room was deathly quiet. The only sound that could be heard was Mayor Haven swirling brandy around in his glass, and after a minute or two even that stopped. "Does anyone have any reservations about takin' the final step?" Burns Wolcott opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly changed his mind. "Then we're in agreement?" Jeremiah asked.
No one spoke, but all around the room heads nodded. A smile spread across Nance's face; he was finally going to get to do what he'd wanted to do almost from the beginning. "Nance, your move," Jeremiah pronounced, and it seemed a line had been crossed. Tesson just sat and grinned, already beginning to plot and plan in his head. Now all he had to do was find the perfect time to execute his idea. Leave it to the big man; he'd get it taken care of and they could all go back to making money.
XXXXXXXX
Bret and Molly collected Galead from the livery and returned to the ranch. Molly took her time and insisted on giving the Arabian a good rubdown; Bret did the same with Blackthorn. When she finished Molly walked to the house and Bret found little things to do in the barn that kept him busy until Bart rode in, done for the day. He'd gotten the new ranch hands started, learning the layout of the area and the ranch, and familiarizing all four with the way everything should be done. As he unsaddled Noble and then proceeded to groom the gelding, he and Bret discussed the 'run-in' with the marshal in Yuma and just what the next steps would probably be.
"I think we should take turns stayin' in the house with Molly," Bret suggested.
"Alternatin' nights, you mean?" Bart asked.
"Yeah," his brother answered. "I'm worried about you, too."
"Why?"
"Because they went after you before."
Bart shrugged and continued working on his horse. "So?"
"I think somebody's got it in for ya."
That caused Bart to stop what he was doing. "Why? Because I'm the one they went after? Just lucky, I guess. I don't know any of 'em except the marshal and Bircken."
"Watch your back, alright? The objective here is to come out of this alive."
Bart gave his brother a long, hard look. "Is it, Bret? Is it really?"
Now it was Bret's turn to stop and stare oddly at Bart. "What does that mean?"
"It means – what are we doin' here? Answerin' to different names, pretendin' to be somethin' we're not. We've been here for weeks. Are we tryin' to help this girl – or have you fallen for her?"
Bret gazed down at the ground and kicked at a rock that was right in front of him. "I . . . I don't know. I just know if we ride away now they'll kill her – for sure. And I don't want that to happen."
"Neither do I."
"Then we'll stay an see it through to the end?" Bret was asking for his brother's help – and approval.
"Whatever the end is – yeah."