Pete (The Cowboys) (39 page)

But Mrs. Dean had been very firm on that score. She admitted that the money did give credence to Pete’s story. She also agreed that Bill Mason’s eagerness to hang Pete made it look as if he had something to hide. But she was adamant that the process of deciding who was telling the truth and who was lying should be left to the sheriff. It wasn’t proper for a woman to interfere.

Anne didn’t agree, but so far she hadn’t found anything she could do to help.

“If I had gone with you,” Anne said to Dolores, “I wouldn’t have been caught in the mountains during a blizzard, and Pete could have been halfway to Arizona by now.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Dolores said.

“With all my heart.”

“Even though he’s not Peter?”

Anne had talked Mrs. Dean into letting Dolores share the guest room. They relied on each other for company and support.

Anne had never seen a room like Mrs. Dean’s guest room. She’d never seen a house that was less like her house.

It wasn’t as big as the Tumbling T ranch house, but it was wonderfully proportioned, elegantly furnished. The house seemed to be swathed in lace and rose silk. Where it wasn’t silk, it was damask, satin, velvet, or some other luxurious material. The furniture was just as wonderful. The table next to their bed was made of black walnut with a white marble top. The table by the lounge was inlaid with exotic woods of different patterns and colors. Anne was afraid to touch it. Everything gleamed and glistened with a patina that could be achieved and maintained only by two maids driven to heroic efforts under Mrs. Dean’s eagle eye.

Anne wondered if she’d ever get back to the ranch and her own familiar surroundings. Unless she received confirmation of her marriage to Peter, she would have no claim on it. She would have nowhere to go. One thing was certain. She didn’t intend to stay with Mrs. Dean.

“I think I fell in love with Pete because he
wasn’t
Peter,” Anne told Dolores. “I thought I loved Peter, but now I’m certain that was only a little girl’s thankfulness for someone who never cared that she was part Indian or a weak, useless female.”

“And you don’t think he killed Peter?” Dolores asked.

“No. I never really did. I was shocked when he told me what he’d done. I think not believing him was a way of getting back at him for hurting me. It seems rather mean and vindictive when I think about it like that.”

“Maybe, but it’s understandable.”

“But Pete wouldn’t kill Peter. I don’t say he wouldn’t kill anybody. I’m quite sure he would if he or someone he loved was in danger.”

“Like you?”

“I think he would have killed Mason if he could. I don’t think that would have bothered him at all.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“I was ready to kill him myself if he hadn’t taken that rope from around Pete’s neck.”

“How could you fall in love with a stranger so quickly?”

“I already thought I was in love with Peter. His letters had been so sweet. His agreeing to marry me even though I knew he didn’t love me made me want to love him, made me feel I should love him. I was prepared to fight everybody to protect him.

“Then Pete arrived, and he was everything I’d hoped for and more. He knew about ranches. He took charge from the moment he got here. He threw my uncle off and told him never to come back. He faced Belser without a blink.”

“That ought to have told you he wasn’t Peter.”

“It might, if he hadn’t been even more kind and thoughtful than Peter. He told me I was beautiful. He said he was proud to be married to me. He let me buy anything I wanted. He gave me this ring.” She held out her hand to show Dolores.

“I know. You show it to me at least a dozen times a day.”

“He never forced me to come to him. That very first night he said we ought to take some time to get to know each other.”

“You mean you never—”

“Not until the night I spent at the roundup.”

“Where on earth could you—”

“In a grove of cottonwoods down by the creek.”

“You didn’t?”

Anne nodded.

“On the ground?”

She nodded again.

Dolores tried to hold it back, but a giggle broke out. Anne was angry at first, then she saw the humor. Both women started to laugh.

“But you were always so proper,” Dolores said as she wiped her eyes. “I can’t imagine you doing that.”

“At the time I wanted it more than anything else in the world.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. The sheriff won’t let me see Pete. They’re holding a hearing tomorrow. Bill Mason is determined to prove Pete killed Peter and Belser.”

“What about Eddie?”

“Pete thinks Mason killed him.”

“What!”

The exclamation startled Anne, but not half as much as the look in Dolores’s eyes. The older woman seized Anne by the arms in a grip so tight, it drove her fingernails into the soft flesh of Anne’s shoulders.

“You won’t like it,” Anne said.

“Tell me.”

The sharp pain in Dolores’s voice made Anne hesitate. “It’s only a theory.”

Dolores shook Anne. “Somebody killed Eddie. I’ve got to know who.”

“Pete thinks Mason has always wanted Uncle Carl’s ranch, that he started the rustling right after Uncle Carl’s accident. In fact, he thinks Mason might even be responsible for that.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. He thinks Mason approached Belser first. Belser wouldn’t cooperate because he wanted the ranch for himself, so Mason used me to find out when Peter was arriving so he could arrange to have him killed.”

“But who killed Belser?”

“This is the part you’re not going to like. Pete thinks Eddie killed Belser, then Mason had to kill Eddie to keep him quiet.”

Dolores pulled away from Anne, her eyes cold and angry.

“Pete thinks Mason told Eddie that Peter would lose the ranch and Eddie would lose his job,” Anne continued. “He already knew Belser would fire him the moment he got control. Maybe Mason promised Eddie he could be foreman of the combined ranches.”

“He’s lying.”

“Is he? Neither you nor I killed Belser. Pete had no reason to because he always meant to tell me what happened.” Dolores started to object. “He didn’t have to tell me the truth when Mason showed up. I would have defended him.” The two women faced each other. “It had to be Eddie,” Anne said softly. “Pete had never set foot in the kitchen. He wouldn’t have known where to find your knives.” Dolores turned away, but Anne moved to intercept her gaze. “You suspected something, didn’t you?”

Dolores didn’t respond. Anne waited.

“No,” Dolores said. “I never did. Eddie had talked about leaving. He said he wouldn’t have a job no matter who got the ranch. Then he started talking about the future, like he was going to have a say in it. But why should he agree to kill Belser? Pete didn’t want to fire him.”

“Pete thinks Mason offered him a partnership.”

Dolores seemed to collapse, to shrink inward. “Eddie would have done anything for that.” Even her voice sounded defeated. “He wanted his own ranch more than anything, but I don’t see how knowing this can help Pete.”

“I’m hoping it can help us find the men who killed Peter.”

“How?”

“Mason must have told Eddie something. He talked to you all the time. Think. Can you remember anything that might help us?”

“No.”

“Any strange people, new hands, names he mentioned, cowhands in unusual places, horses disappear—”

“Yes!” Dolores seemed excited. “I heard him tell one of the hands that two men would be coming by. That he was to take them to one of the line cabins.”

“Which one? Where is it?”

“It’s the cabin off Clear Creek, but I don’t know where it is or how to get there.”

“It’ll be on the map Eddie made for Pete.”

“You’ll need somebody to take you there.”

“No, I won’t. I read the map once. I can do it again. You and I can go there today.”

“Me!”

“I’ll need help if those men are still there.”

“What can two women do?”

“I’ll get Ray to go with us.”

It took Anne some time to convince Dolores, but everything came apart when Mrs. Dean barred their way until they confessed what they intended to do.

“You can’t do anything like that,” she said. “Leave it to the sheriff.”

“The sheriff thinks Pete murdered Peter,” Anne said, “and Mason has hired a lawyer to prove it. I can’t sit around and do nothing.”

“Well, you can’t go alone,” Mrs. Dean said. “You don’t know how to get there.”

“I can read the map,” Anne said. “That’s how I found the roundup.”

“You know nothing about firearms or capturing criminals.”

“Ray is going with us.”

“He’s a cowhand,” Mrs. Dean said in disgust. “He doesn’t know any more than you do.”

“We’ll manage. Now you’ve got to get out of my way. I’m going to find those men.”

Mrs. Dean opened her mouth to continue her objections.

“Nothing you say will change my mind,” Anne said. “Nobody believes in Pete’s innocence but me. No one else will try to save him.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Mrs. Dean asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

“I don’t know.”

“What you mean is, he hasn’t asked you.”

“How could he when I thought he was a killer, when I wouldn’t listen when he tried to tell me Mason was behind everything?”

“But you want to marry him?”

“More than anything in the world.”

Mrs. Dean sighed. “Well, there’s no help for it. Horace and I will have to go with you.”

Anne felt as though she was leading a parade of clowns. Here she was attempting to capture two desperate killers, and she was accompanied by a cook, a beardless cowboy, a domineering dowager, and her dotty husband. She kept reminding herself that Mr. Dean had been a colonel in the United States Army, that Mrs. Dean was a crack shot, that Ray was young and strong, and that she and Dolores were attractive enough to lure the killers out of their hiding place. That ought to be enough to capture two men, but she was afraid their attack would never succeed. If they could decide on a method of attack. Mrs. Dean and her husband had been arguing since they left the ranch.

“It’ll never do to launch a frontal attack,” Horace Dean was saying. “You’ve got to outflank them, attack them where they least expect it. Destroy their fortifications with your big guns, wear them down with your infantry, and clean up with your cavalry.”

“Don’t be a fool,” his wife said. “All you have is a few rifles, a cart horse, and three women.”

“I think our best approach,” Anne said, “is to pretend Mr. and Mrs. Dean got lost and we’re looking for them.”

“What would they be doing out here?” Dolores asked.

“You could say we’re looking for Custer’s battlefield,” Mr. Dean said. “It’s a very famous attraction.”

“That makes about as much sense as saying we’re hunting for elk,” his wife said.

“If Mrs. Dean had a parasol, we could say they went for a walk and got lost,” Dolores volunteered.

“It’s too far to walk,” Anne pointed out.

“I think we oughta say two dotty old people got lost, and we’ve come looking for them,” Ray said.

“I think I know how we can do it,” Anne said quickly, before Mrs. Dean could blister Ray with her retort.

“My dear—” Horace began.

“Let her speak,” Mrs. Dean commanded. “You’ve forgotten more military strategy than you remember.”

“I think Dolores and I ought to approach the cabin from the front,” Anne said.

“My child, you can’t put yourself in the line of fire,” Horace said.

“They don’t have any reason to hurt us,” Anne explained. “How could two women threaten them? Anyway, while we’re talking to them, Ray could come up from behind the cabin and catch them while they’re not looking.”

“That’s not a bad plan,” Horace said.

“It’s better than anything you’ve come up with,” Mrs. Dean said. There followed a long discussion as to what Ray should do. It ended with Horace and Mrs. Dean deciding to accompany Ray.

“Horace will get confused and blunder right into the cabin,” Mrs. Dean said. “He’d give the whole thing away.”

Anne tried to explain that Mrs. Dean was an even more illogical person to accompany Ray.

“I’m an expert shot with a rifle,” Mrs. Dean said. “There were plenty of hostile Indians out here when Horace commanded his first post. All of us women learned to shoot.”

Anne advanced several counterarguments to no avail. When tactfully reminded that it wasn’t easy for someone of Mrs. Dean’s age to climb over boulders and fallen trees, she said she’d walk around them. Anne decided that she and Dolores should have waited until the dead of night and climbed out the window. There was no hope of their capturing even the most incompetent killer with this contentious army of five.