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Once, Portugee’s glance came around and lay speculatively against Shelby, and something struggled fiercely behind Portugee’s eyes. Shelby sat like a stone, not liking this. He pinched his mouth tight and breathed deep through his nose. Will Gant looked at him and Portugee whispered something, and Gant laughed silently, his eyes wrinkling up until they were almost shut. Something was going on between those two. Shelby began to sweat.
Shelby got slowly to his feet and tried to look casual. He wandered over to the spring and had a drink, filled his canteen and wandered back. But he stopped much closer to the girl than he’d been before. He hunkered down on his heels not five feet from her and when she looked at him, her eyes widened: plainly the same thought had crossed her mind that had crossed his.
His maneuver had not gone u
Damp with springwater, the homespun dress clung to the girl’s body, stuck to the undersides of her nubile breasts. She wore no stays, no evident underpi
From where he squatted he could see past the lovely long column of her back and the dark long hair that she had plaited at the side of her head—past her surly and beautiful face to Gant and Portugee. Portugee removed his hat and slicked back his hair and looked at Will Gant, whereupon Gant got to his feet and shoved his hand down behind his belt buckle into his fly and said, “Mike, what do you say we climb into that saddle of hers? You can go first kid, I don’t mind watchin’.”
Shelby’s lids drooped bleakly. He saw the girl slide her glance off Gant as if he were some kind of zoo animal. With his free hand Gant tugged at the long black hair in his nose. Shelby said, “Cut it out. You heard Zach.”
“Zach ain’t here,” Portugee murmured, and got to his feet. “You ain’t fixin’ to spoil the fun, are you?”
“Aeah,” Shelby sighed, “I guess I am, Portugee.” He eased himself upright and planted his boots a couple of feet apart.
Portugee laughed softly. “Let’s bust him, Will.”
The girl was getting up too. Her breasts moved when she turned. She pinched her lower lip with her teeth and she gave Shelby a frightened frown.
Gant said, “Only aimin’ to do her a kandness, Mike. She go
Shelby drew out his gun and spoke from a semi-crouch: “Forget it. I like you all right, Will, but we don’t need you. I don’t want to have to shovel dirt in your fat face.
Portugee rose up on his dignity. “Ain’t no call for you to pull iron on us, Mike.”
“Just back off, then, and I’ll put it away. I’ve got no fight with you two.”
Portugee and, Gant looked at each other. They were wavering, and Shelby helped them along: “You know damn well both of you together couldn’t pour piss out of a hat if the instructions were written on the brim. Fooling with me can only buy you wooden suits—either from me or from Zach when he gets back. Come on now, be sensible. Go on over in the woods and jack your rocks off if you need to, but leave her be.”
Gant took his hand out of his pants. Color suffused his face. Absurdly, he said. “That ain’t no way to talk in front of a lady.”
It made Menendez, over in the shade, laugh until he almost ruptured himself.
Provo came into the trees on his horse. His crag of a face was stern, the dark eyes had a hard glitter. “Assholes,” he said, voice grating in his windpipe. “You fools have got a fucking gift for trouble. Leave you alone five minutes and you find some stupid way to bring us grief. I told you two bastards to keep your pants buttoned. And you, Mike, you made a mistake pulling that gun—but once you pulled it yon should’ve used it. Don’t pull iron on a man unless you’re fixing to shoot him.”
Portugee said uncomfortably, “Shit, you don’t miss much, do you?”
Shelby, stiff and stung by the rebuke, said defensively, “I’d have used it if they’d forced it. Hell, I didn’t need to.”
“Then you shouldn’t have pulled it.”
“Jesus, Zach, even Menendez thought it was all a big laugh.”
“Balls. We can’t afford a killing here, the Navajos won’t put up with it Menendez was right to head it off. He used his head. Maybe you’ll learn to use yours if you live long enough. Now everybody gather round here.”
The others drifted in. Shelby went to take Susan Burgade’s elbow but she jerked galvanically when he touched her. He stayed with her and listened to Provo from where he stood.
“Were all set. They’ll side with us as long as we treat them friendly. Everybody remember that. Anybody lays one finger on a Navajo and I’ll personally cut that finger off.”
Will Gant said, “How’d you do it, Zach?”
“Reminded them it’s white men after us and white men’s money we stole. I told them it’s Burgade back there. Everybody up here knows it was Burgade killed my wife. She was a fullblood Navajo and she was i
“That posse’s bound to pull in here soon,” he continued. “The Navajo police will keep them busy a few hours and then they’ll turn the posse back to the Reservation line—white man’s law can’t set foot on this Reservation. Burgade figures to come on after us, and he’s good enough to slip through past the Agency police, unless he’s got awful dumb or awful unlucky in his old age, but he’s just one man. I aim to set him up where I want him and kill the old bastard one bullet at a time.”
Susan’s eyes were almost closed. She swayed on her feet. Shelby reached out to prop her up but she shoved herself away from him. Her rigid back expressed rage and terror all at once. Shelby felt vaguely uncomfortable. He didn’t care what happened to Sam Burgade—everybody’s father had to die sometime. But it made him uneasy to see what it was doing to Susan. Listening to Provo talk about his dead wife made him pretty sure Provo had something just as ugly in mind for Burgade’s daughter.
Will Gant, who was shrewder than he looked, said, “Hepping us can get these I
Offhandedly Provo said, “Sure. But I told them where they could go dig up ten thousand dollars in gold to help folks out on the Reservation. Up here ten thousand dollars is more than the whole tribe sees in a year. They’ll side with us long enough to suit me. By the time the Bureau starts leaning on them we’ll be long gone.”
“Ten thousand,” Shelby said. “You said you had forty-eight thousand buried.”
“You don’t think I was stupid enough to cache it all in one place, do you? It’s scattered in four hideouts. One cache, maybe somebody could stumble across it by accident. But not four of them.”
“Smart,” Shelby said, and filed it: one more good lesson to memorize.
Will Gant was looking at Susan with a strange light in his eyes. “What we aiming to do about her, Zach?”
Provo smiled a little, not with his eyes. He quoted softly, “Patient, ever patient, and joy shall be thy share. Bear that in mind and you’ll be all right, Will. Just don’t crowd things.” He looked at the girl and his gentle laughter had the cruel dry sound of dead leaves rattling in an autumn wind.