The Way of the Coyote by Elmer Kelton

Author:Elmer Kelton [Kelton, Elmer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western, Mexican-American Border Region, Fiction, Mexico, Ranch life
ISBN: 9780812577518
Publisher: Doherty, Tom Associates, LLC
Published: 2001-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

Concern about the Oldham brothers had everybody on the place watchful. Vince Purdy limped into the front room where Rusty was seated in the rocker, trying to read a romance novel Josie had handed him but making little headway. He did not relate to the genteel ballroom adventures of English society.

"Rusty, somebody's comin'. One man, leadin' a horse."

"Just one man? I doubt it's an Oldham. They generally ride together." Travelers had passed by the Monahan farm almost every day he had been here. Nevertheless he rose, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder. He reached for his pistol, hanging in its holster from a wooden peg.

He found Len Tanner standing protectively at the edge of the porch, rifle in his hand.

Rusty said, "I doubt you'll need that."

"Rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. You never know when you'll see a son of a bitch that needs shootin'."

Preacher Webb approached from the direction of the field. "You won't neither of you need a gun. That's Andy Pickard comin' yonder."

"Andy?" Rusty squinted, trying to see better. It seemed to him that his vision was not completely recovered from several days' fever caused by the wound. "What do you suppose—"

Tanner said, "It won't be good news. Nobody travels this far to tell you somethin' you want to hear."

Rusty walked out to meet Andy as he neared the barn. Webb, Purdy, and Tanner followed him. Andy was riding an unfamiliar sorrel and leading Alamo. The black horse had never been used as a pack animal before. It was probably a wound to his pride, Rusty thought.

Andy drew rein but seemed reluctant to dismount. His dark expression indicated that Tanner had been right. Rusty asked, "What's wrong back home? Somebody killed?"

Andy said, "Not yet, but somebody ought to be." He swung a moccasined foot over the sorrel's back and dropped to the ground. He licked dry lips and looked toward the cistern at a corner of the house. "I sure need a drink of water. Used up my canteen a good ways back."

He drank two dippersful, then poured a third over his head. "Rusty, they've taken your farm away from you."

Rusty's first reaction was disbelief. "They can't do that." But doubt set in. He felt as if Andy had struck him with the butt of a rifle. "How could they?"

"The Oldhams came out with some papers that said they could. Told me if I didn't want a good quirtin' I'd better hit the trail in a trot. So I trotted." He rubbed a hand across his face. "I already had a taste of Buddy's quirt."

"What became of Shanty?"

"He went with Tom Blessing. We cleaned out the cabin, and Tom hauled off everything that wasn't nailed down tight. Said him and his boys would gather all your stock they could find and try to get them out of the Oldhams' reach."

"Good old Tom. I never had a better friend." Rusty glanced at Webb and Tanner. "Except you-all.

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