A Grave for Lassiter by Loren Zane Grey

Author:Loren Zane Grey
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781428518155
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

Chapter Sixteen

The moment Lassiter and the wagons rolled into Aspen City after the long haul down the mountain from the Bitterroot Mine, he saw a familiar figure waving a hand and smiling broadly. Lassiter gave Vance Vanderson a spare nod.

“The best news I ever heard in my life was that you’re alive, not dead,”Vanderson enthused.

Lassiter looked down at the proferred hand, then into the hazel eyes that seemed bright with sincerity. “The last time I remember seeing you, you were running for your life to the back of a mine tunnel.”

“And I was yelling every step of the way for you to follow and we’d make a stand.”

“You did that?” Lassiter asked mildly.

“Sure I did. I thought you were behind me all the time.”

Lassiter gave him a hard smile, then saw Melody hurrying from the office to join them. For her sake, he shook Vanderson’s hand.

“I was off trying to earn money enough to help keep Melody going,” Vanderson said. “Melody, tell Lassiter how much I brought home to you.”

Melody smoothed her dress as to give herself time to think, then said, “It was around five hundred dollars.” Lassiter was unimpressed. He wondered where the man had gotten his hands on that much money. Not by the sweat of his brow, he would bet.

Later he got Melody aside and gave her the bank draft. She was surprised at the amount.

Dad Hornbeck prepared roast venison for the evening meal. Melody and her husband were invited to eat with the crew. They crowded into the room adjoining the barn and sat on benches at two long tables.

Melody sat at the head of the table where Lassiter was eating. She wanted to know all about the long trip. However, Lassiter minimized the night attack by the Farrell men and his later encounter with Art Blackshear at Montclair. But Bert Oliver wasn’t satisfied to leave it at that. The garrulous southerner told it all. Lassiter wanted to kick him under the table, but was sitting too far away. He didn’t want Melody to start worrying.

While Oliver was talking, Lassiter noticed that Vanderson squirmed in his seat. Probably out of boredom.

When the meal was finished, Vanderson spoke solemnly to Lassiter, saying how he intended to cooperate. “You just name what you want done and I’ll do it.”

“I’ll remember.” Lassiter’s smile was for Melody’s benefit. Despite their success with the Bitterroot business, he sensed she was unhappy. She seemed ill at ease and dark shadows were noticeable under her gray eyes. All because her goddamn wayward husband had decided to come home.

Finally Vanderson walked around the table to stand next to Melody’s chair. “If you boys’ll excuse us, I think my wife and I will retire now.” He reached down to take Melody by an elbow. He drew her up from the chair. “Come, my dear,” he urged.

She complimented Hornbeck on the supper he had cooked for them, but the old man only shrugged. He seemed embarrassed by her obvious distress.

Lassiter felt sorry for her, too. Vanderson was making such a show of taking her to bed.

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