A Score to Settle by Mike Torreano

Author:Mike Torreano [Torreano, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Westerns; Old West; gold; gold coins; Spanish land grants; Pecos River; Fort Sumner; Goodnight Loving Trail; cattle drives; longhorns; Roswell; chuck
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2020-09-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Del eyed the restless cattle. He rode flank tonight, working to keep the unruly beasts from breaking out sideways at the slightest sound. Drovers said every little noise can set them off, and now he was witnessing it firsthand. Could be the howl of a wolf, crack of a gun, or whirling dust devils roiling the land. Laramie, enthusiastic as ever, had picked the best available saddle horse for him to stand watch with. He’d checked on Shade. The horse didn’t shy away anymore when Del ran a hand over his side. Shade was probably ready, but no need to take him yet. Looked like a quiet night. He’d ride him again soon, though.

Kip rode up, a worried look on his face. “Back of my neck’s crawlin’ and that don’t usually happen without somethin’ bad followin’.”

“What’s got you spooked up? It’s a pretty night”—Del swept an arm at the sky—“though the beeves do seem twitchy.”

“Dunno, just a feelin’ I get sometimes and I got it now.”

“Ride along with me. We’ll make an up and back trip this side of the herd.”

The cattle’s uneasy lowing made it hard to hear anything else. Del stood in the stirrups, scanning the dim surroundings as his horse jogged slowly. Kip’s edgy feeling was catching. Del noticed his friend tug his hat tighter and did likewise.

Kip cupped a hand to his mouth. “Now’s the most chancy part of a drive, right here, when you got cattle backed against a river and held off from drinkin’. There’s not a lot of good and lots of bad that can happen.”

A stab of worry ran through Del. He'd change the subject. “I think Rodrigo’s doin’ better, don’t you? I mean, he’s made a friend out of both Buck and Rose. And her dog. Learnin’ to cook some, too. Always smiling these days.” He glanced at Kip, hoping he agreed.

“I guess he’s doin’ fine. Seems like he don’t have to talk though, everybody does for him without him sayin’ a thing.”

A flush ran up Del’s cheeks. It was true. Was he helping the boy by not prodding him? Not encouraging him? Rodrigo could talk. He’d been a chatterbox, playing with his son before that night. When Del got back to camp, maybe he’d—

Gunshots split the night air. Kip reined up. “Don’t know who the hell’s doin’ that, but he ain’t likely none of ours. Let’s split up. You try to front the herd. If they start to stompin’, do everything you can to turn ’em away from the river. Ride back and forth shootin’. They get in that current and we’ll lose the lot of ’em in this dark.”

Del already knew how difficult a swift-running river crossing was in daylight, much less at night. Half the herd would drown if they stampeded that way. More firing and the cattle’s loud bellowing drowned out everything else. The animals were on the move, as if they were a river themselves.

Kip yelled. “I’ll go run those shots down.” He disappeared into the darkness.

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