Empire Page 8

  ‘You gonna let him get away with that, boss?’ Clay put down his fork. ‘Say the word and I’ll take some of the boys over there and put a stop to it.’

  Ben smiled. ‘From what I’ve heard, fire is the best way to get rid of bedbugs and cockroaches. No, I’m told the buildings weren’t much account in the first place, so maybe Goodwin is doing me a favor by getting rid of them for me. Besides, we have our own drive to make, and I’ll need all hands.’

  Bear sipped his coffee and glanced at Ben. ‘Boss, I heard that Dooley Clowers was in town for the trial, but no one saw him leave with Goodwin. He ain’t never forgot how you threw him in that icehouse back in Cook’s Crossin’.’

  Ben shrugged. ‘If he’s hunting me, there’s nothing I can do to stop him.’

  ‘Just warnin’ you. He’s a bad one. Some say he’s killed three men.’

  ‘Which way were they looking at the time?’

  ‘Well sure, but a bullet in the back will kill you just as dead as one you’re lookin’ at.’

  Bear and Clay left for the hotel while Ben and Chester Franklin had after-dinner cigars and brandy. They listened idly to the still-excited talk of the trial and were aware of many glances in their direction. Sneed and Judge Lowry had seemed invincible to the locals, so watching a rancher like Ben Tower utterly destroy both of them, shaped up to be an historical event.

  Finally, Franklin excused himself and left. Ben listened a few more minutes and then paid his bill and stepped outside. He paused for a moment on the boardwalk, finishing his cigar, enjoying the cool night air. Outside town, a coyote called, and a local dog yapped his answer. The moon was dark, and the only light came from the Emporium windows and the Cattleman’s Saloon across the street and nearly a block away. Somewhere a protesting pump squeaked as someone drew water for the evening. The night was cloudless, and the stars were brilliant in the ebony sky.

  Across the street, a loafer rose from a bench, stretched and ambled slowly down the stairs to step into the dust of the street.

  Ben flicked the ash from his cigar, took a last puff and ground it out under his heel. He had just turned to go when the shadowy figure stopped in the middle of the street, and the light from the Emporium window revealed his face. It was Dooley Clowers.

  ‘Too bad, Tower. I planned to shoot you in the back as you walked by. You would have never felt a thing, but you stayed up on that boardwalk too long. Now you’ll see it comin’.’ Ben could see Clowers’ yellow-toothed grin in the lamplight. ‘I owe you one, Tower, and this time your luck has run out. We got you boxed up like a rat.’

  ‘This one’s out of it, boss,’ Clay called out from across the street in the shadows. ‘He ain’t interested in testin’ this scattergun.’

  ‘And if that jasper hidin’ in the alley wants to see tomorrow, he’d best stay out of this one too.’ Bear’s voice came from a second-story window where Ben could see a rifle barrel, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man stand in the shadows and slowly raise his hands.

  Clowers licked his lips and a look of uncertainty moved across his face. He shifted his feet and wiped his right hand on his greasy shirt.

  ‘Looks like you lost your help, Dooley. You don’t have to do this, you know. You can turn around and head for Texas and live until somebody else kills you.’

  Clowers’ eyes narrowed and his face tightened in decision. ‘To hell with that!’

  His arm dropped, and Ben’s gun was bucking in his hand, firing three shots in an almost steady roar. Clowers sank to his knees, a puzzled look on his face. He tried to raise his arm to fire his own shots, but the gun somehow slipped out of his fingers, suddenly far too heavy for his weak grip. He stared at it, bewildered, and sagged slowly to the ground. Then Ben Tower was standing over him and Dooley’s mouth worked but the words never came. He was dead.

  The street filled with onlookers from the Emporium and the Cattleman’s Saloon, staring at the body of Dooley Clowers and discussing the day’s events in hushed voices. Bear and Clay quickly found Ben and related their accounts of the shooting to Marshal Davis who nodded and placed their prisoners under arrest.

  Davis looked at Ben ruefully. ‘When will you folks be leaving? Trouble seems to follow you and I like a peaceable town.’

  ‘We’ll be riding out in the morning. I’ve a ranch to run.’

  Clay Johnson studied Ben thoughtfully. ‘Ranch? Sounds more like an empire to me, boss!’

  CHAPTER 10

  ‘What about the folks at Cook’s Crossing?’

  Mattie placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Ben, along with thick slabs of fresh, homemade bread, slathered in butter. Ben silently gave thanks once again for having the good sense to listen to Mattie about raising chickens, pigs, and keeping the dairy cattle from the lost wagon train.

  ‘What will you do about them, Ben? Lots of them are good honest folks who thought the land would be theirs.’

  ‘And so it will be, Mattie. I’ve hired a surveyor to map out the town and assign lots according to the way the town folks have it laid out. When he’s done, I’ll make out deeds to most folks, but I’ll keep all the land in the streets and lots not claimed.’

  ‘What did you mean by “most folks”?’

  ‘There are one or two who don’t shape up to be folks who’ll do their fair share. I’ll give them a chance, but if they don’t change their ways, I’ll keep that land and move them on down the river.’

  ‘Don’t become a man judging others, Ben,’ Mattie said quietly, ‘and don’t let all this wealth and power go to your head. You have the right by ownership to decide who you will favor and who you will not, but as a man, you have an obligation to let other folks have their faults, just as we all have our faults.’

  Ben started to retort and then caught himself. He looked over his coffee mug at Mattie’s gentle eyes and he knew she was right. ‘You win, Mattie. I’ll deed over everyone’s lots and let them sort it out. And you’re right . . . I do have my faults, although picking an intelligent, lovely, and good woman to be my wife was not one of them.’

  Mattie rose and patted his hand, a faint blush highlighting her cheeks. She loved and admired Ben more with each passing year and it pleased her greatly to know he valued her advice. She started to leave the room and then suddenly stopped and turned to Ben as if she had just remembered something. ‘By the way, while you’re counting your blessings, you can add one more. There’s another child on the way.’

  She turned and walked down the hall, adding over her shoulder, ‘At least I hope it’s just one this time!’

  CHAPTER 11

  ‘Oh, this is so exciting, Ben!’ A smiling and radiant Mattie pushed the carriage containing little Henry and one-month-old daughter, Julie, both sound asleep. The twins, Joseph and Jeremiah, and their younger brother Walt, now three, walked with their father down the Denver boardwalk.

  The territory was now the new State of Colorado, it was 1876, and a major celebration was underway in Denver, the new state capitol. Later in the day, Ben and Mattie were invited podium guests of Governor John Routt, last Territorial Governor and first State Governor. But now, the parade was about to start, so Ben was looking for a good place to watch the proceedings. He pointed across the street and up.

  ‘The Emporium balcony has some room, Mattie. Let’s head over there.’

  Wide-eyed and fascinated, the older boys lined the Emporium railing and watched the parade. The buildings on both sides of the street were draped in red, white, blue bunting, as were the lampposts and hitching rails. Below, wagons, horses, and riders, decked out in their finest, paraded noisily by, as firecrackers thrown by young boys crackled everywhere amid great whoops of laughter. Ben grinned and looked at Mattie who smiled and shook her head.

  For nearly an hour, the parade went on until the rear was brought up by a finely-mounted group of United States Cavalry. As Ben had seen them do a couple of blocks away, when in front of the building and on command, the line wheeled right and presented arms. They th
en fired a volley of blanks and wheeled left to continue down the street. Ben applauded with the rest of the crowd and then helped Mattie gather up the children.

  On the boardwalk again, Ben nodded and smiled as people recognized him and he shook hand after hand. The story of how he had outsmarted Judge Lowry and lawyer Sneed was now legend and had grown until only a small portion of it was actually true.

  Marshal Davis’ investigation revealed that Goodwin, Sneed, and Lowry had pulled off several similar but much smaller land and cattle thefts and that both Sneed and Lowry had received payoffs from Goodwin. Davis had also discovered the grave of Senor Rodriguez after questioning a Mexican who had a silver belt suspiciously like the one Rodriguez had owned. The Mexican admitted to witnessing the burial of Rodriguez and the subsequent murder and burial of Little Dave Mathers. He returned later and robbed the grave, getting the silver belt and many other items, including Little Dave’s gun and belt.

  Sneed and Lowry were both behind bars and Marshal Davis had a warrant for Dan Goodwin for the murders of Senor Rodriguez and Little Dave Mathers, but Goodwin had disappeared some years ago. It was rumored that he had been robbed and killed in Kansas after selling his cattle, but there was no official record of such a killing.

  Ben’s holdings were so vast that there were plans underway to take him to court in an effort to redistribute the land. The argument was being circulated that no man should have so much land and wealth, and Ben could see where a court might be sympathetic to that plea. Of course, those who wanted and felt entitled to his land, had done nothing to earn it. While he was damming up waterholes, building corrals, and feeding steers trapped in blizzards, they were warm, safe, and comfortable in cities far to the east.

  To stave off such attacks, he was already mapping out large sections to be designated as State Parks, open to the public free of charge, but still in his possession and with the provision that he retain all grazing and mineral rights. He hoped that might influence the court should a suit be brought. He also had the influence of many men of power, including the new Governor, if needed, but it had been some of them who had warned him of plans to challenge his holdings.

  He had already moved much of the property into a family holding, further spreading out ownership. He had also given the O’Hara family two-thousand acres of good farmland. Then he deeded Clay Johnson and Medicine Hawk a thousand acres each and helped all of them set up houses and barns. Bear was made the same offer, but he declined, preferring to stay on at the Rafter T.

  Ben was also in the process of setting up farms on the tillable portion of the land, to be leased out on shares to farmers. If they proved out, he was going to make deals allowing them to own their farms in due time. It was both good business and an argument of good stewardship should it come to a court case.

  This was the first trip to a city for the older boys and they were fascinated with all the great buildings and noise. They pointed out each new thing to their father who patiently explained its purpose. At last they reached their destination and stepped off the boardwalk and on to the lush grass of the city park.

  ‘Where’s Bear?’ asked Mattie. Bear had driven Mattie’s carriage with the children while Ben rode alongside. ‘He’s around somewhere,’ Ben replied. ‘Probably having a beer at the Cattleman’s and telling a few lies.’

  The new stage and podium were set up next to the old bandstand and as they neared the park facilities, they could hear the town orchestra tuning up. A smiling official spotted them and led them to a table beneath a large oak. While the three older boys began to play with others their age, Mattie draped a vanity blanket over her shoulder and began to nurse Julie. In a couple of hours, it would be time to nurse Henry who was not yet weaned. She shot an accusing look at Ben who developed a sudden interest in his boots.

  After a picnic lunch, the crowd gathered around the podium and the official sought out Ben and Mattie to seat them on the platform. Mattie declined, not wanting to leave her children with strangers, so Ben mounted the steps alone and took his seat. One after another, speakers rose and said their piece until it was Governor Routt’s turn. He spoke to the wonders of Statehood and of the many pioneering men who were responsible for the success. One by one he introduced them to the crowd who applauded enthusiastically.

  When it came Ben’s turn, the crowd came to its feet and roared its approval, much to the delight of the grinning Governor. Ben stood and waved his hat and the crowd roared even louder. As Ben’s eyes swept the mass of faces, he suddenly glimpsed a vaguely familiar, unsmiling face, but when he tried to find the face again, it had disappeared. Try as he might, he could not put a name to it. He shrugged and continued smiling and waving at the crowd.

  The applause eventually died down and he regained his seat. The governor droned on and he glanced over at the table where Mattie was sitting. She was gone, probably rounding up the boys.

  Finally, the speech was over but as Ben stood to leave, the Governor pulled him aside, a thoughtful look on his face. ‘You’ve made a real name for yourself, young man, and it looks like you have quite a following. We’ll be needing representation in Washington soon, and I may call upon you to run for office.’ At Ben’s startled look, the Governor smiled and said, ‘No need to say anything today, just think it over and let me know if you have an interest.’

  They were leaving the reviewing stand when Ben felt a hand on his sleeve. It was Bear, and his face was drawn. ‘You’d best come quick. It’s Mattie!’

  Suddenly Ben remembered the face in the crowd. It was older, the beard and hair were gray, and there was a madness in the eyes, but there was no doubt about it.

  It was Dan Goodwin.

  CHAPTER 12

  ‘She’s lost a lot of blood and there’s some damage to her right kidney, but I was able to get to the bullet and stop the bleeding.’

  The doctor handed Ben the short, fat piece of lead in a tin basin with Mattie’s blood still on it.

  ‘Probably some drunk cowhand celebrating and not thinking.’ The doctor shook his head and wiped his spectacles. ‘Bound to happen sooner or later. We have a law about discharging firearms inside the city limits, but the town marshal doesn’t enforce it because he does it too after a few drinks!’

  Mattie’s face was ashen, and her forehead was almost cold to the touch. She was conscious, but said nothing, and her eyes were closed. When Ben had asked if she knew what had happened to her, she gave a slight nod, tried to speak, but failed. Guessing her intent, Ben assured her that the children were in excellent hands and he had located a wet nurse for Julie. She nodded again, and a fleeting smile crossed her lips. She closed her eyes again.

  ‘She needs absolute rest and she needs to take nourishment in order to replace the blood she lost. I think her kidney will heal satisfactorily if there’s no infection. We should have a fair idea of how this will turn out within a week. In the meantime, I suggest you leave her here where she’ll be cared for night and day.’ The doctor glanced at Ben. ‘From this point on, it’s all in God’s hands, son. I’ve done all I know how to do. I make no promises.’

  Ben washed the blood off the bullet in his hotel room basin and examined it carefully. The doctor knew his medicine but not much about firearms. It didn’t come from a pistol any cowboy would carry. It was a derringer bullet, probably a .41 rimfire caliber, and had been fired at close range. Such ammunition lost much of its power in just a few yards and probably would not have even penetrated Mattie’s skin had it happened the way the doctor described.

  It was also no accident. It was intended to punish Ben by taking away what was most dear to him in retaliation for what he had taken from the shooter . . . his ranch and his pride. Dan Goodwin was back, and the war was not over. It had just begun.

  Ben gave Bear his instructions. ‘I can’t wait or the trail will grow cold, so I’m riding out in the morning. You stay here and keep an eye on Mattie and the children. I sent Clay back to the ranch to tend to the business.’

  ‘You k
now he’s plannin’ an ambush.’ Bear shook his head in disgust. ‘He’ll be layin’ for you, sure as anythin’. He made no effort at the livery stable to cover up who he is and where he’s goin’, so he expects you to follow him and he’ll be waitin’.’

  ‘Can’t be helped. I’ll have a better chance knowing he’ll be gunning for me than have him come at me some other day when I don’t expect it. I left word at the marshal’s office, so when Harvey Davis gets back, he can follow and lend me a hand. You just watch over the family for me while I’m gone, Bear.’ Ben looked hard at the old cowboy. ‘And if I don’t come back, you see to things as best you can. I’m obliged to you for that.’

  Bear lifted his hat and scratched his head mournfully. ‘Sure I will, but you just see to it that you do come back. If I’d wanted a bunch of kids to look after, I would have had some my own self.’

  The next morning, Ben studied the tracks in the stall where Goodwin’s horse had been stabled. The hostler said it was a big black and that he had also replaced two shoes while boarding the horse, so the tracks were fairly distinctive.

  ‘Big feller with gray hair except some was still yeller here and there. Had him a full beard and was wearing a tan duster last I seen of him.’ He pointed down the street. ‘Rode off south, easy as you please, sort of humming to himself.’ He glanced at Ben. ‘Friend of yours?’

  ‘No, just someone I’m looking for. You sure he went south?’

  ‘Yup. I watched him ride out and maybe fifteen minutes later, I seen him crest that hill south of town. He stopped there and wheeled around, looking this way like he was checking his back trail or looking to be followed.’ He shrugged and looked over at Ben. ‘If you’re going after him, you better know that he had a crazy look about him. I think he’s a dangerous man, mister, and I also think he expects to be followed.’

  The trail was one a blind man could follow, and it made Ben uneasy. Goodwin was weaving a trap for sure and Ben was deliberately riding right into it. But what choice did he have? If he didn’t face him now, he’d have to face him later and who knew when that might be? It was better to hunt him down now and be done with it.