Gather My Horses by John D. Nesbitt

Author:John D. Nesbitt
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Published: 2012-01-27T10:23:59.849000+00:00

Chapter Eight

Afternoon shadows were reaching into the street as Fielding stepped out of the deputy’s office in Chugwater. It had been a ragged day and a half since he started down the mountain with Bracken’s body, and the worst of it was over. It galled him to have to concede that Fred Mahoney had killed Ed Bracken in self-defense, but that was what it came to. The deputy had taken down the report and said he would look into it. He also had telegraphed Julesburg and had gotten an answer, so the body was going home. If there was one thing not to feel wretched about, it was the knowledge that the kid was going in his good clothes. They had been in his duffel bag at the time of the shooting.

Feeling empty and dragged out and edgy, Fielding stepped into the street where he had left the bay horse and the brown. As he checked the cinch on the bay, a voice came from behind him, saying his last name. Chugwater was not his home, but it was close enough that he was not surprised to hear someone call his name in greeting.

Turning, he saw Al Adler on a dark horse and Cedric Tholes on the cream-colored horse he had ridden to Buchanan’s one day.

Fielding wondered why the Argyle foreman would take the trouble to greet him, but he returned the courtesy by saying, “Good afternoon.”

Adler, dressed in brown with his white shirt visible, reined his horse so that he could look down on the right side. At the same time, he gave Fielding a view of his free right hand, gloved as always, and his smooth holster and dark-handled gun. “I thought you were in the mountains,” he said.

“I was, but I had to come down here on an errand.”

Adler frowned and cast a glance at the hitching rail. “Where’s your pack string?”

“I had to leave it at the first line camp where I was to deliver goods. Belongs to Dillon. Maybe you know of it.”

“I’ve heard of him, but I don’t know all the places yet.”

“It doesn’t matter much. Your men know where it is.”

“I’m sure.” Adler looked at the two horses again. “Have any trouble with the weather?” he asked.

“Not yet, but it can come up at any time.”

“I’d say. We just got caught in a hailstorm a couple of miles north, and it gave Cedric a good stinging. Isn’t that right, Cedric?”

The man turned his head but did not lower his gooseberry-colored eyes to acknowledge Fielding. “Rah-ther,” he said.

Fielding realized it was the only time he had heard Cedric speak.

“Well, we’ve got to move on,” said Adler, “and we don’t want to keep you from your work.”

“Thanks for stopping.”

“Good to see you.” Adler touched his hat brim and moved on.

Fielding watched the two men ride away. Good to see him, indeed. For all Fielding knew, Adler had come down this way to see whether Fielding was laid out in a pine box. Whatever the case, Adler would find out soon enough what had happened, if he didn’t know already.

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