Hard Country by McGarrity Michael

Author:McGarrity, Michael [McGarrity, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781101585511
Publisher: Penguin Group
Published: 2012-05-10T05:00:00+00:00

32

Months before Patrick returned to the Double K, Cal had signed a contract with the Indian agent at the Mescalero Apache Reservation to deliver one hundred and fifty head of beef to a place called Pine Tree Canyon after the fall works. With a bank loan, he’d restocked the ranch with whiteface Herefords, running three hundred head of cows, yearlings, and a few newborn calves in the high-country pastures. Proceeds from the sale would pay off the loan and leave enough profit to carry the outfit to next spring.

In August, Cal rode out with Patrick and George to gather the cattle for the drive to the reservation.

“There’s one loco longhorn bull up yonder we haven’t been able to corral,” Cal said as they entered the canyon above the west pasture, the ranch headquarters a far piece in the distance.

“Last of a breed, soon not to be seen hereabouts again,” George added with a chuckle. “He’s a mean old brindle bull.”

“We should shoot it and mount the horns,” Patrick said. The ponies and the pack animals slowed as they clambered over the rocky canyon bottom.

George cleared his throat and spit. “Can’t say I agree with that. I’d miss the critter.”

“He’s eating Double K grass,” Patrick replied. “I say shoot it.”

“I like seeing that old-timer every now and then,” Cal said. “I vote to let the brindle live.”

George chuckled. “Two to one, the vote goes in favor of the bull.”

“When did you become a partner in the Double K?” Patrick snapped.

“You know I ain’t,” George replied. He gave a yank on the rope to the packhorses trailing behind him and fell silent.

“George has got a voice in how things get run around here,” Cal said quietly.

“Is that a fact?” Patrick asked.

“It is for me,” Cal answered.

Patrick shrugged. “Have it your way.” He loped ahead to where the canyon widened near an arroyo and curled up another draw.

“He ain’t the same since he came back,” George said grumpily once Patrick was out of earshot.

“He’ll come around,” Cal replied for the umpteenth time, although he was starting to believe his prediction was wishful thinking.

Patrick hadn’t set foot off the ranch since his return. He worked hard, day herding the cattle in the mountain pastures and looking after the outfit’s small remuda of cow ponies and pack animals, but he sure didn’t make good company. Unless they were talking about ranch business, he had little to say.

Cal figured something bad had happened to Patrick but didn’t see a way to ask about it. All he knew was Patrick had drifted into Arizona Territory and worked as a top hand for a big outfit east of Tucson. There had to be more to it than that, but he’d never met a man with a secret to be kept who appreciated folks meddling in his business.

They reached the first pasture by midmorning, a stretch of land that wandered through gaps, draws, arroyos, and slot canyons in the middle of the mountains. The gathering went off without a hitch.

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