Brush Country by Elmer Kelton

Author:Elmer Kelton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 1957-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

XVII

Doug hadn’t intended to take anyone with him, but the whole fencing crew was up in the darkness long before dawn. The fire in the barn had destroyed all their bedding and personal belongings, so they had slept on the floor in the house, the wood heater aglow to keep them warm.

“It’s my fight,” Doug had said with stubbornness.

“It’s ours,” Dundee replied solemnly. “No use arguin’, we’re goin’ too.”

Doug had given in reluctantly. “All right, you can go along to make sure it stays fair. But otherwise, keep out of it.”

As he rode in the raw chill, his mind dwelt on Trudy. Again and again he pictured Spann forcing his horse to run over her. A throbbing anger built in him.

He had never been to the R Cross before, but he headed instinctively for the long L-shaped bunkhouse. Seeing no movement, he reined up and shouted. “Spann, come out here!” Steam rose from his lips in the frosty air as the words came.

He could hear movement in the building, a clinking of tin, a scuffle of boots.

“Spann, come on out here or I’ll go in there and drag you out!”

An R Cross cowboy came out the door, a crooked grin on his face. He gave Monahan a careful appraisal, then said, “He’ll be out directly.”

Up at the big house on the slope, Captain Rinehart walked out onto his high front porch. Seeing the riders in front of the bunkhouse, he moved slowly down the steps and limped stiffly toward the stamping, nose-rolling horses. Other cowboys came out of the bunkhouse and stood in front of it, watching the door. Then came Archer Spann, moving slowly, his feet dragging a little. His clothes were rumpled. His face was haggard and unshaven, his eyes red from loss of sleep. Doug Monahan sensed that something had happened here yesterday after the raid, and that Spann had had a hard time of it.

He looked into Spann’s sullen eyes, and his own rising anger came to the boiling point. He stepped out of the saddle and handed the reins to Dundee.

Spann demanded, “What do you want, Monahan?” His voice was hoarse.

“I’ve come to settle with you for what happened at Wheeler’s. And I’m going to settle for Paco Sanchez, too.”

“I shot the Mexican in self-defense, you know that.”

“A court might have to accept that, but I don’t. You just wanted to kill somebody. Paco gave you an excuse, and you did it.”

Archer Spann’s eyes glowed, but he said nothing.

Doug gritted, “It’s not just a poor old Mexican with a pothook in his hand, or an old man on a wagon, or a girl standing out in the middle of an open yard. It’s me, and I got a gun on my hip. I’m going to kill you with it, Spann.”

The men along the bunkhouse wall began spreading out, giving room. The riders moved from behind Doug. Archer Spann stood watching Doug Monahan, his square jaw twitching.

Doug’s voice cut like the popper on a bullwhip. “I’ll give you a chance, Spann, a chance you never gave Paco Sanchez.

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