Thunder of Eagles

Chapter Three

Jessica Colton knew she made an appealing picture as she rode along with the wind making her long red hair stream out behind her head. She wore trousers and a man’s shirt and rode astride, even though she knew that scandalized her mother Carolyn. A sidesaddle was fine for cantering through a city park back East; Jessie had done that more than once. But for pure enjoyment, there was nothing like galloping over the West Texas hills and plains, and that required some real riding.

She had ridden out today, the day after the dance in Sweet Apple, to meet Sandy Paxton at the creek that formed part of the boundary between the Double C and Pax ranches. Her father had tried to discourage her from spending so much time with Sandy, but Shad Colton knew better than to forbid his strong-willed daughter to do anything. That would just make Jessie even more determined to do it.

She knew from things Sandy had told her that her father, Esau Paxton, was the same way. Esau didn’t like the two of them being friends, but it was much too late to do anything about that now. Jessie and Sandy had been close companions ever since childhood. They had grown up together, more like sisters than second cousins, and gone away to school together. It was while they were back East that the rift had developed between their families. Neither young woman knew what had caused it, but whatever it was, they didn’t see any reason why it should keep them from being friends.

Jessie came in sight of the creek, which ran roughly north and south, rising in the rugged hills and meandering some twenty miles before finally running into the Rio Grande. Pax lay to the east of the stream, Double C to the west. Both spreads extended on into the hills, past the spring where the creek bubbled to life, and up there the boundary was less well-defined. That didn’t matter much, because all the good graze was down here along the creek. The stream’s banks were dotted with scrubby cottonwood and mesquite trees, as well as the occasional desert willow or oak.

Sandy hadn’t gotten there yet, Jessie saw as she reined to a halt on the bank, in the shade of one of the cottonwoods. They had agreed to meet here this morning so they could talk about everything that had happened at the dance the night before.

Sandy would want to talk about Sam Two Wolves, Jessie thought with a smile. Sandy thought Sam was just about the handsomest man she had ever seen, and the fact that he was half-Cheyenne didn’t bother her. It wasn’t like he was Apache or Comanch’. That would have been different. The Cheyenne weren’t longtime blood enemies of the pioneer families that had settled in West Texas.

Jessie had to admit that Sam was a good-looking man. But Matt Bodine was better-looking, she thought.

She and Sandy had met Matt and Sam at the train station in Marfa when the young women were returning to Sweet Apple from school. There’d been some trouble there, and two hard cases who had been bothering Jessie and Sandy had made the mistake of drawing on the blood brothers when Matt and Sam intervened on their behalf. Those fools had wound up lying dead on the platform.

It might have turned out like that anyway, since both of the girls had been packing iron and knew how to shoot. That fancy Eastern school had taught them quite a bit, true enough, but it hadn’t changed them, made them something they weren’t. They were still West Texas gals through and through.

They had enjoyed talking to Matt and Sam on the train after that, although Jessie figured that Mr. Matt Bodine was pretty full of himself. Sam was quieter and more modest.

But Sam didn’t have the same sort of reckless, devil-may-care attitude about him that Matt did, and whether she wanted to or not, Jessie had to admit that she found that attitude mighty appealing in a man…

Not that she was any sort of expert on men or anything like that, she reminded herself as she felt a warm flush creeping over her face. It was best not to think too much about how handsome Matt Bodine was.

The drumming of hoofbeats made her look up. She spotted Sandy on the other side of the creek, riding toward her.

And something was wrong, too, Jessie realized as Sandy came closer. Her friend had a worried look on her face.

Sandy rode across the creek, the hooves of her horse splashing the shallow water. She brought the animal to a halt. Like Jessie, she wore men’s clothes and a broad-brimmed Stetson. Her blond hair was pulled into a thick braid that hung down her back.

“What’s wrong, Sandy?” Jessie asked.

“Pa fired Jeff Riley this morning.”

Jessie’s mouth tightened. “Good riddance, I’d say. I know he was a good bronc-buster, but I never liked him. I saw the way he looked at you sometimes in town, when you didn’t know he was watching you.”

Sandy made a dismissive gesture. “I knew it. I just didn’t let it bother me all that much. Hell, girl, men have been looking at both of us like that for quite a while now.”

Jessie couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, I know. Sometimes I don’t mind…depending on who’s doin’ the lookin’.”

That brought a laugh from Sandy, relieving her grim demeanor for a few seconds. It came back quickly, though, as she said, “I don’t trust Riley. He’s liable to try to get even with Pa.”

“Why’d your father fire him? Because of that ruckus in town last night?”

Sandy nodded. “That’s right. Everybody had strict orders not to cause any trouble, no matter what.”

“The same was true for the Double C riders,” Jessie said. “My pa gave Tom Danks a good, old-fashioned chewing out this morning, since it was Tom that Riley almost drew on…but he didn’t fire him.”

“Riley cussed my father,” Sandy went on. “I thought for a second Pa was going to have him horse-whipped and then thrown off the ranch. But Riley left on his own.”

“I reckon he was pretty mad, all right. He got knocked out by Matt Bodine last night and then lost his job this morning.”

“He’d better be glad he didn’t try to draw on Matt or Sam,” Sandy said. “If he had, he’d be dead now.”

Jessie gave a solemn nod. She and Sandy had seen a first-hand demonstration of how well Matt Bodine and Sam Two Wolves handled their guns, right after they’d first met the two handsome, charming drifters.

They had figured Matt and Sam for no-account gunslingers at first, but Shad Colton and Esau Paxton both had heard of the vast ranches that the blood brothers owned in Montana and had set their daughters straight. Matt and Sam might look and act like saddle tramps at times, but that was hardly what they were.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about Riley,” Jessie said, “and anyway, your pa can take care of himself. Besides, there’s something else that’s bothering me.”

“What’s that?”

“How come that blasted Matt Bodine and Sam Two Wolves didn’t ask us to dance last night? What’s wrong with them?”

Sandy laughed. “Some girls would be asking what was wrong with themselves if a couple of boys they liked didn’t ask them to dance.”

Jessie gave a defiant toss of her head. “There’s nothing wrong with us, and you know it.”

“I reckon they must’ve thought they shouldn’t be dancing, since they were there to help the marshal.”

“Marshal Standish danced with that little schoolmarm. I saw him.”

“Yeah, but Matt and Sam didn’t dance with anybody,” Sandy pointed out. “At least, not that I saw.”

“Well, Matt Bodine just missed his chance, that’s all I’ve got to say.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sandy said with a smile. “If he asks you next time there’s a social, you’ll fall all over yourself saying yes, Jessie.”

“I will not! Why, Matt Bodine can go climb a stump as far as I care—”

The swift rataplan of more hoofbeats silenced her, and made both young women turn in their saddles to look in the direction of the sound, which was back toward the headquarters of the Double C. Half-a-dozen riders were coming toward them, trailed by a wagon carrying posts, rolls of wire, and several more cowboys.

“Oh, Lord,” Jessie breathed as she recognized the big figure leading the party. “What’s Pa up to now?”

Shadrach Colton was the source of the red hair that Jessie and her younger brothers and sisters had inherited, although Colton’s still-thick and shaggy mane was shot through with gray. He had the burly build and rugged face of a man who had worked outdoors and worked hard most of his life. As he and the other riders came up to the creek, he reined in and looked at his daughter and Sandy with hard, pale blue eyes.

“Miss Paxton,” he said as he gave Sandy a polite nod.

“Hello, Uncle Shad,” she replied. Even though Colton wasn’t really her uncle, as a child she had referred to him that way, just as Jessie had called Sandy’s father Uncle Esau.

“You’d better ride on back home now,” Colton told her.

“Sandy doesn’t have to go if she doesn’t want to!” Jessie flared.

“It’s all right,” Sandy said. “I’m on Double C range on this side of the creek, after all.”

With gruff courtesy, Colton said, “It ain’t that, Sandy. You’re welcome over here any time. You know that. So’s your ma.”

“What about Royce and Dave?” Sandy asked, referring to her twin brothers who were two years younger than her.

Colton’s mouth tightened. “They stand with your pa, I reckon. Couldn’t be any other way, with Esau raisin’ ’em.”

“What are you going to do?” Jessie demanded. “What are all those posts and wire for?”

“Don’t you worry about that,” her father said. “Get on back home now.”

“Not until you tell me what this is all about,” Jessie shot back. Her jaw was tight, too, and her green eyes blazed with defiance. She was her father’s daughter, no doubt about that. She jerked a hand toward the wagon and went on. “You always said you’d never have any truck with that…that devil wire, you called it. This is open-range country. Always has been and always will be.”

Colton sat stiffly in his saddle for a moment, then spat and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as if he were trying to get rid of a bad taste. “I wish it was still that way,” he said, “but the time’s come to put up a fence.”

“Where? The creek’s always been the boundary line between the two ranches.”

Colton shook his head. “Nope. Accordin’ to the papers filed at the county seat, the boundary is the east bank of the creek, and then a line due north from the spring where it rises.”

Sandy’s eyes widened with surprise as his meaning sunk in. “You’re going to put a fence on the other side of the creek? On my father’s land?”

“Pax range stops where the creek starts. That’s where the fence is gonna go.”

“But…but then our cattle can’t get to it!” Sandy protested. “What’ll they do for water?”

“You got a creek on your range,” Colton said with a nod in that direction.

“But it dries up half the year! It’s almost dry now! Our stock has always used this creek!”

Colton shook his head. “Not any more.”

Jessie spoke up again, saying hotly, “Pa, this ain’t right—”

“Good Lord, gal!” her father exploded. “What kind o’ talk is that? Didn’t I send you to school so you could learn how to talk like a proper lady?”

“All right, then,” Jessie said through gritted teeth. “Father, this isn’t right. It isn’t proper behavior. And it certainly isn’t fair to Mr. Paxton.” She took a deep breath. “It’s a bunch o’ damn bullshit, that’s what it is!”

Colton flung a hand toward the Double C headquarters, several miles to the west. “Git!” he shouted at Jessie. “Go on home before I forget that you’re damned near growed and paddle you like the spoiled brat you’re actin’ like!”

Jessie folded her arms across her chest and glared coldly at him. “I’d like to see you try it,” she grated.

Father and daughter glowered at each other for a moment before Colton turned and bellowed at the hands who had accompanied him, “Get to work! I want a good stretch o’ that fence up before sundown today!” He swung his horse toward Sandy again and went on. “Sandy, gal, you got to go now. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going, Uncle Shad,” she said, “but I don’t believe you’re really sorry, or you wouldn’t be doing this. I’m going to see what my pa has to say about it. I can’t believe he’d ever agree to this!”

She heeled her horse into motion and splashed back across the creek. “So long, Sandy!” Jessie called after her, but Sandy didn’t acknowledge the farewell.

The Double C hands who had ridden out on the wagon hopped down, and the ones on horseback dismounted. They showed an obvious reluctance for working with the newfangled barbed wire, which had been introduced several years earlier but was still quite unpopular in Texas. The fact that Shad Colton would resort to using the devil wire was a sign of just how deep his ill feelings toward Esau Paxton really ran.

Jessie watched in dismay as the cowboys began sinking posts along the far bank of the creek and stringing wire between them. Shad Colton dismounted and worked alongside them. He had never been the sort of hombre to ask his men to do anything he wouldn’t do himself, which was one reason they felt such fierce loyalty to him.

The work was slow and hard, and it hadn’t progressed very far by late morning. That was when Jessie spotted the dust cloud in the distance to the east, on Pax range, and unbent from her anger long enough to say, “Riders comin’, Pa.”

Colton lowered the fence post he was holding and looked where Jessie was pointing. He grunted and took off the work gloves he had donned earlier. Then he came over to where Jessie still sat on her horse under the cottonwoods and put a hand on the animal’s shoulder.

“Jessie, I mean it now,” he said in a soft but urgent voice. “I want you to go home. There’s liable to be some trouble, and I don’t want you anywhere around here.”

“Gun trouble, you mean,” Jessie said, trying to keep her voice from trembling with the nervousness she felt. That tension had been growing ever since Sandy rode off. Jessie knew Esau Paxton well enough to be certain that he wouldn’t sit still for having his cattle fenced off from water. He would ride out here with some of his men to see for himself what was going on…and they would come armed.

Colton shook his head. “I don’t reckon it’ll come to that—”

“You know better, Pa.”

Stubbornly, Colton repeated, “I don’t reckon it’ll come to that, but if it does, I want you safe, girl.”

Jessie reached for the butt of the Winchester that stuck up from the sheath strapped to her saddle. She never went riding without a rifle. She would have felt naked out on the range without a gun.

“I’m a Colton, too,” she said as she drew the Winchester. A simple statement, but it spoke volumes.

“Jessie, Jessie,” Colton said, shaking his head. “What if Sandy’s with them?”

Jessie’s blood seemed to turn to ice water in her veins.

But it was too late to ponder what her father had said. With a rattle of hooves, the riders swept up on the other side of the creek and reined in. The air was thick with dust and a sense that all hell was about to break loose.