Blood Feud Page 5

  “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” Cassie asked.

  “He’s our pa.”

  “Ma is worried, too. I think that’s why Grandpa offered to take her into Wareagle. To take her mind off it. Well, off that and Scarlet. She’s sound asleep, by the way. I checked a bit ago.”

  “You should have gone with them.”

  Cassie put her hand on his shoulder. “I wanted to stay with you. When I’m away from you I don’t feel whole.”

  “Must come from being twins.”

  “Or something.” Cassie gave his shoulder a playful shake. “What do you say? I promise not to make noise. I’ll be so quiet you won’t even know I’m there.”

  “You’re female.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’ll know you’re there.” Chace turned and took a couple of steps and stopped and looked back. “Consarn you, anyhow.”

  “You’ll let me?”

  “When have I ever denied you? Fetch your gun. We’ll go back of the apple orchard and see about something for the supper pot.”

  Cassie grinned and raced in and was back out in half a minute with her own rifle. It was a single-shot Ballard in .32 caliber. She also had a small doeskin pouch in which she carried her ammunition. “Ready,” she said.

  The sun was hot; the breeze barely stirred the leaves. They passed the barn and went along a cornfield to the orchard. Beyond was a finger of woodland that separated the wheat field from the barley and beyond that the forest.

  “I like how you walk,” Cassie said.

  Chace looked at her.

  “You’re like a puma, all tanned and tawny. When you move, it’s just like a cat.”

  “Cut it out.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “That makes it worse. I ain’t no damn cat.”

  “Try to give some folks a compliment,” Cassie said.

  The shade did little to lessen the heat. Chace hardly made a sound. Cassie tried to imitate him and wasn’t entirely successful. When she accidentally stepped on a twig that crunched, he glanced at her as if she should be kicked.

  “You promised to be quiet.”

  “We can’t all be Apaches,” Cassie said.

  “I’d like to meet some one day.”

  “Apaches? Are you loco? They’d slit your throat as soon as look at you. I hear they kill every white they come across.”

  “Can’t hardly blame them. The government is trying to put them on a reservation. If I were an Apache, I’d kill every white, too.”

  “Don’t let Pa hear you say that. You know how he is about redskins.”

  Chace raised a hand for silence. He peered into the foliage and then extended his left hand and pointed.

  A gray squirrel scampered along a high limb. It stopped and rose on its hind legs and rubbed its chin with its paws and then resumed scampering.

  “It’s yours,” Chace whispered.

  Cassie took a step for a better view. She pressed her rifle to her shoulder and aligned the rear sight with the front sight and centered the front sight on the squirrel. It was perched in a fork and gazing about, unaware they were there. She remembered to aim at the head. Squirrels didn’t have a lot of meat and a slug through the body ruined a lot of what there was. She held her breath to steady her aim, counted to three in her head, and fired. She missed. The squirrel moved just as she shot and at the boom it spun and raced along a branch and vaulted to another tree and disappeared.

  Chace looked at her.

  “It wasn’t my fault.”

  Chace went on looking.

  “You saw what it did. You’d have missed, too.”

  “I’d have waited until it was still.”

  “I ain’t perfect like you,” Cassie said.

  “You can always go back.” Chace shifted his Spencer to the crook of his elbow and walked on.

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” Cassie declared, and quickly caught up. “You can be so mean.”

  “Hush. We’re hunting.”

  “I want to know something.”

  “Figured you did, the way you were staring at me back at the cabin.” Chace stopped and faced her. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Mind if I sit?” Cassie went to a willow and curled her legs under her. She leaned the Ballard against the trunk and folded her hands in her lap. “I want the truth out of you.”

  Chace placed the Spencer’s stock on the grass and leaned on the barrel. “You can say that? When you know you’re the one person in the world I would never, ever lie to?”

  “What do you plan to do about the Harkeys?”

  “It’s not up to me. Pa is taking care of that. If this is all you wanted, you’re wasting our time.”

  Cassie plucked a blade of grass and stuck the stem between her teeth and spit it out. “Let’s say Pa gets what he wants. Let’s say the Harkeys agree to punish those who hurt Scarlet. Will that satisfy you?”

  “It will if Pa says it has to.”

  “You won’t go after them? You won’t hunt them down and do what I know you secretly want to do?”

  Chace bent and plucked a blade of grass and stuck it between his teeth but he didn’t spit it out. “They should suffer as Scarlet suffered.”

  “An eye for an eye.”

  “A hurt for a hurt.” Chace raised the Spencer. “Let’s go. And this time I’ll do the shooting.”

  Frowning, Cassie stood and grabbed her rifle and followed. “You’re awful contrary today.”

  Chace studied the ground as they went. Twice he stopped and knelt and ran his hand over some prints.

  Cassie was good at tracking but not as good as he was. The tracks were made by a deer but she couldn’t say how long ago. She found out when they came to a circle of flattened grass.

  “He bedded down here last night.”

  “How do you know it’s a him?”

  Chace indicated a spot where the grass was discolored. “Do you know what that is?”

  “I’m not a simpleton,” Cassie said indignantly. “It’s pee.” She had an idea and brightened. “I get it. Bucks lift their legs when they pee and does squat.”

  “Bucks don’t always lift,” Chace corrected her. “Look closer.”

  Cassie squatted and cocked her head from side to side but for the life of her she couldn’t tell anything and said so.

  “I thought I explained this to you once.” Chace hunkered beside her. “Is the mark between the hind tracks or where?”

  “It’s in front and almost to one side.”

  “There you have it.”

  “Have what?”

  Chace looked at her again. Cassie glanced at the hind prints and at the pee spots and at him and back down. “Oh,” she said, and laughed. “He would have to spray to the front, wouldn’t he?”

  “Sometimes they spray straight down, but it’s still not the same as when a doe squats.” Chace rose and resumed tracking. “You’d have remembered if you gave a hoot.”

  “I admit it,” Cassie said. “I don’t care as much about tracking as you do, and I don’t care at all about how deer pee. But then, as you say, I’m a girl.”

  “Girls have to fill their bellies the same as boys. It might do your family good someday that you know how to track.”

  “I’m never getting married, the same as you.”

  “You’ll meet a man one day and crave him for your own. You’ll throw a loop for him to step into and when he does you’ll have kids just like Ma had us.”

  “Would you step into my loop?”

  “I’m your brother. What would folks think?”

  “Then I’ll live my days as a spinster.”

  Chace stopped unexpectedly and she almost walked into him. “I don’t like to hear that.”

  “It’s my life.”

  “It’s not right you live alone on account of me.”

  Cassie reacted as if he had slapped her. “I never really expected to. Or is all your talk just wind?”

  “We have to grow up so
metime,” Chace said gently. He reached for her hand, but she pulled away.

  “It’s not about growing up. It’s about us. It’s about being twins, about us having—what did Ma call it? A special bond. I could no more live without you than I could without breathing.”

  “I knew it was a mistake.” Chace went to go on, but she snagged his wrist.

  “Being twins makes us different.”

  “Other folks can’t see that.”

  “We can. We think alike about a lot of things. We feel alike. All I have to do is look at you and I know what is in your head.” Cassie touched his chest and then she touched hers. “And what is in your heart.”

  “You make more of it than there is.”

  “Tell me I’m wrong. Look me in the eye and say you’ve never felt it. Tell me that when we’re apart you don’t feel like part of you is missing.”

  “Dang it, Cassie.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it to myself. But if you ever leave, I’m going with you. Whatever you do, I want to be at your side.”

  “You act like you’re my wife.”

  “I’m better. I’m your twin.”

  Chace shook his head and pulled loose and walked on. Cassie said his name but he ignored her. She tried a few more times and finally subsided into a sulk.

  She didn’t care that she stepped on twigs or dry leaves.

  Chace stayed glued to the tracks. Eventually they came to a thicket that covered half an acre. He stopped, showed her a trail into the thicket, and whispered, “He’s bedded down in there.”

  “Good for him,” Cassie said loudly.

  “Spook him and we won’t have venison for supper.”

  “That was cruel of you. Sixteen years we’ve been two sides of the same coin and now you say it never meant anything.”

  “You’re putting words in my mouth.” Chace bore to the left, rising every few steps onto his toes. When he had gone a short way he turned and selected an oak. Thrusting his Spencer at Cassie, he jumped and caught a low limb. He swung up, straddled the limb, and lowered his hand for her to give him the rifle. His other hand against the bole, he stood and surveyed the length and breadth of the thicket.

  Cassie folded her arms and tapped her foot.

  Careful not to drop the Spencer, Chace climbed higher until the branches were almost too thin to bear his weight. Shielding his eyes, he scoured the thicket again. Slight movement drew his gaze. He eased lower, wrapped his legs around a branch, and braced his back against the trunk. Tucking the Spencer to his shoulder, he fixed a bead on a particular spot, put his cheek to the rifle, and uttered a shrill whistle.

  Fifty feet away the buck rose, head and antlers in profile.

  Chace stroked the trigger. The shot was as perfect as a shot could be; it drilled the buck’s brain and burst out the other side of its head. It was dead before it crumbled. He worked the lever, then descended. On the bottom limb he lowered the rifle for Cassie to take, but she didn’t take it. “Suit yourself,” he said, and jumped, alighting on the balls of his feet. “It doesn’t help when you act this way.”

  “You could at least say you’re sorry.”

  “I never apologize when I’m right.”

  Cassie stamped her foot. “Do you know what I am thinking? I’m thinking you’re the worst brother ever.”

  “I know,” Chace Shannon said.

  7

  Buck and Fox and Granger sat at an oak table in Ezriah Harkey’s cabin with their rifles leaning against their legs. Buck was at one end of the table, Ezriah at the other. Over at a stove, Woman filled cups with coffee.

  Buck looked about them. All four walls were hung thick with animal heads. Deer, bear, cougar, even rabbits and a possum and two raccoons. In a corner stood an entire stuffed black bear. On a small stand was a stuffed eagle. Mixed in with the mounted heads were bare skulls, and in another corner was a pile of skulls nearly as high as Buck’s waist.

  Ezriah noticed where he was staring, and smiled. “That’s Woman’s collection. She uses them in her spells and when she casts the future.”

  Granger said, “You don’t really believe she can do that?”

  “She does. And I’ve learned not to dispute her.” Ezriah shrugged. “How she does the things she does, I can’t say.”

  Woman went to a cupboard. Inside were dozens of jars, none with labels. She sorted through them and took down a small jar and brought it to the stove. Opening it, she took a pinch of the contents and put it in one of the cups and did the same with the next.

  “What’s that she’s doing?” Buck asked.

  “Brown sugar,” Ezriah said. “You’re guests, so she’s treating you. We don’t use it much ourselves.”

  Fox motioned at the front door. “Why did you leave that open?”

  “To let air in,” Ezriah said. “It’s hot out, in case you ain’t noticed.” He chuckled. “You boys sure are suspicious. You can relax. You’re guests in my home. Nothing will happen to you here. Besides, there’s the truce.”

  “Which some of your clan broke when they raped my girl,” Buck said bluntly.

  Ezriah frowned and slid a hand inside his open shirt and scratched himself. “If I could, I’d shoot them my own self for what they done. But the blame isn’t all theirs, is it?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Your girl was on Harkey land. She should have known better.”

  “She did,” Buck admitted. “But the young don’t always listen. And with the truce and all, she probably figured she’d be safe.”

  Granger said, “There were seven boys who did her. Or six, ’cause one of them tried to stop them.”

  “Do you know who they are?” Fox asked.

  Ezriah nodded. “There were two brothers, Rabon and Woot, and four of their cousins, Darnell, Ardley, Preston, and Calvert. Oh, and Jimbo, the one who got hit for trying to talk them out of it.”

  “I don’t care about Jimbo,” Buck said. “The others must be punished. I could kill them and be within my rights.”

  “That you could,” Ezriah agreed, and fell silent as his wife came over bearing a tray with the four cups of coffee. She set down a cup in front of each of them and placed the empty tray on the table and stepped behind Ezriah’s chair and stood with her hand on the chair.

  Granger reached for his cup, and stopped. “She just going to stand there like that?”

  “She can listen if she wants,” Ezriah said.

  “What I want to know,” Buck said, picking up his cup, “is what you intend to do about it.” He sipped, then blew on the hot coffee and took another sip. “Sort of bitter.”

  “Woman never could cook worth a lick,” Ezriah said. “If you think that is bitter, you should taste her tea.”

  “About them boys?” Buck prompted.

  “In the old days I’d have had them whipped. Tie them to posts and use a bullwhip on their backs to teach them a lesson. But these ain’t the old days.”

  “What do you aim to do, then?”

  “They can’t be allowed to get away with it,” Fox said.

  “No man should do to a woman what they did,” Ezriah agreed. “But the situation is delicate.”

  “We’re not talking eggshells,” Granger said.

  Ezriah laced his fingers and gazed out the door. “Rabon and Woot aren’t just any old Harkeys. They’re my grandsons,” he said sadly.

  “Hell,” Buck said.

  “Yes. I know.” Ezriah shrunk a little in his chair. “My own blood doing that. I wouldn’t have thought they had it in them but blood don’t always tell. Now they’ve stained the Harkey name. Once word gets out ...” He paused and looked at Buck. “How many people know?”

  “We’ve kept it quiet,” Buck informed him. “Doc Witherspoon, since he treated Scarlet. My pa and my family and my brothers here.”

  “That’s all?”

  “No one else.”

  “Really?” Ezriah sounded genuinely surprised. “I didn’t expect that. No, sir. I didn’t expect that at all.�
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  “What difference does it make how many know?” Granger gruffly asked.

  “It makes a big difference to me,” Ezriah replied. “The less who hear of it, the better for my clan. The easier the problem is to solve. Doc Witherspoon won’t say anything. He knows better. That leaves your family.”

  Buck drank half his cup in several swallows and set the cup down. “We’re getting off the trail. I want to hear about the punishment.”

  “What would you have me do? What do you think is fair?”

  “That whipping sounds good. Or a beating with a switch until their backs are raw.”

  “I did mention they’re my grandsons?”

  “That’s not what’s important.”

  Granger drained his cup. He ran his sleeve over his brow and said, “It sure is hot in here.”

  “Would you like more?” Ezriah asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  Ezriah turned to his wife and said, “How long?”

  “No more than five minutes,” she replied.

  “How long what?” Buck inquired.

  “She has a pie in the oven. It was for supper tonight but I don’t mind sharing with you boys.”

  Fox sniffed a few times. “I don’t smell no pie.”

  Ezriah bobbed his chin at Fox’s coffee cup. “I notice you didn’t touch yours. After Woman made it special, too.”

  “I’m not much of a coffee drinker,” Fox said.

  “Can she get you something else? Tea? Water? Hell, how about some liquor?”

  “Nothing. I’m not thirsty.”

  “That’s too bad.” Ezriah reached inside his shirt and scratched again. “As for this other, you have to look at it from my side. From the Harkey point of view. Your girl came on Harkey land knowing she shouldn’t. She was the one in the wrong. She was the one broke the truce. She was—”

  Buck held up a hand. “Wait a second. You’re not blaming all of this on her?”

  “Not all, no. But most. If she hadn’t been so foolish, we wouldn’t be sitting here and I wouldn’t have to do what I have to do. It’s a shame. The truce was good while it lasted.”

  “The truce can go on once the wrong had been righted.”

  “No, it can’t. Once a truce is broken, it’s broken for good. Here, today, is the end of it.”