The Way-Out Wild West by Lyn McConchie

Author:Lyn McConchie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ghosts, horses, magic, cats, steampunk, strong women, space aliens, weird west
Publisher: David Lee Summers

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In Memory of Benny

I bit back a cry of pain as the cane landed, closed my eyes and endured as Mother Ames counted to 'ten'. I relaxed – and screamed as another blow savaged my torn skin.

"One extra to remind you of your duties, Thomas."

There was an undercurrent of amusement. She'd been pleased to wring a howl out of me. What she didn't know was that she was beating the wrong person. It had been Benita who should have trimmed the lamps and had forgotten. Benny was a year older than I was but looked younger, and the last beating had almost killed her. So when we were asked who'd failed in their duty, I said that it was me.

I took two more beatings for her that year before Benny vanished, and people gossiped that she'd run away. I was certain she'd have told me if she planned to run and she'd never said a word. Mother Ames shook her head.

"I did my best. She had a good bed, decent food, and lessons, but some orphans are ungrateful."

All that was a lie of course. Not that the townsfolk cared. What the eye doesn't see the heart doesn't grieve over, as my mother always said before she and dad died in a house fire. I'd been spending the night in town with John's family, but they had little money and couldn't keep me.

I grew up in the orphanage just outside of Bodie and my best friend there was Benny. I was twelve when she went missing and I left as soon as I too was thirteen. I went to work at a local ranch and moved on from there. By the time I was twenty-five I was a ranch foreman on a spread a hundred miles away. I called myself Cole Parker – my mother's maiden name – not Thomas Cole Stewart and I never planned to go back but life has a way of changing your mind.

"Cole?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I want one hundred and fifty heifers, all good quality, five bulls that're young an' top studs, and a remuda of twenty-five horses. Pick yourself six of the boys, and you'll be moving the cattle out in two days."

My boss was a grizzled old rancher. He was tough as rawhide and he'd grown up in this county, but he had a twinkle in his eyes most times.

"Sir, you got it?"

"Sure did, son. 'A course the place has run down since old Johnson died. But it's the land I was after and I got it. Good land, good water, an' I got the cattle to spare. Once you got everything rounded up, you an' the boys drive the cattle over to Bodie – I'll give you a paper to say you speak in my name – and you set up a bank account in my name, get to fixin' the place up an' move the cattle onto the flats near the ranch-house."

"Yes, sir. Mr. Crosset. Are you coming over to live there?"

"Cole, I'm too old a dog to change kennels.

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