Wilks’s eyes narrowed and fixed on Danielle. “What Upton Wilks wants, Upton Wilks gets,” he said.
“Not necessarily,” said Danielle, her cold green eyes boring into his. “Carrie’s told you to leave. Now go, while you still can.”
“I don’t take orders from no snot-nosed kid,” Wilks said. “You want me to go, why don’t you make me?”
With blinding speed, Danielle drew her right-hand Colt. Wilks’s left earlobe vanished with a spurt of blood.
“Damn you,” Wilks bawled. “You shot me!”
He clawed for his Colt and Danielle held her fire until he cleared leather. Then she shot the gun from his hand. Ruined, it clattered to the floor. Wilks’s ear had bled heavily down his face, so that it looked as though his throat had been cut. With a deathly white face, he backed toward the door, his voice shaking with anger. “You’d better go back to where you come from, you young fool. I’ll have you hunted down like a yellow coyote.”
“Mr. Wilks pays others to do what he’s not man enough to do himself,” Carrie said. “Just be sure you watch your back, Daniel.”
Speech failed Wilks. He mounted his horse and, spurring the animal cruelly, galloped away.
“Carrie,” scolded Mrs. Carlyle, “you shouldn’t have antagonized him. Having him think Daniel’s here to see you wasn’t the truth. You might have gotten him killed.”
Tuck laughed. “I don’t think so, Ma. I saw John Wesley Hardin draw once, and he was slow as molasses compared to Daniel.”
“I’m sorry, Daniel,” said Carrie, “but what I said was the truth. Everybody that’s ever been on the outs with Upton Wilks has ended up dead. He hires a lot of men, some of them no better than outlaws.”
“Carrie,” Danielle said, “if you have to stomp a snake, don’t put it off till the varmint bites you. I wouldn’t be surprised to find Wilks behind the rustling.”
“He has enough riders,” said Tuck.
“No matter,” Danielle said. “We’ll go ahead with our plans. If Wilks is on the prod, I’ll take care of him when the time comes. Tuck, you and me had better have some of that hot coffee and go calling on those other ranchers.”
The first of the four ranchers they called on was Elmer Dumont. All of them—including Dumont’s son, Barney, and his, wife Anthea—gathered around the dining table. Danielle and Tuck, speaking by turns, revealed the proposed plan to the Dumont family.
“Count us in,” Elmer Dumont said. “If somethin’ ain’t done, we can’t last the winter.”
“We got maybe seven hundred head left, Pa,” said Barney.
“I think we’d better limit the drive to five hundred head per outfit,” Daniel said. “We’ll be shy on remuda horses. Twenty-five hundred head will be more than enough to see all of you through the winter and provide enough money for another drive in the spring.”
“With Daniel puttin’ up money for grub and ammunition, I aim to see that he gets the first hundred head when we reach Abilene,” Tuck said. “Does anybody disagree with that?”
“My God, no,” said Dumont. “I’d give fifty head, myself.”
“We’ll be back,” Tuck said. “We’re callin’ on Cyrus Baldwin, Enos Chadman, and Wallace Flagg. Then we’ll all meet together and lay some plans.”
Chapter 3
Cyrus Baldwin, his wife, Teresa, and his sons, Abram and Clement, listened while Tuck Carlyle and Danielle outlined the plan to save the small ranchers by driving a trail herd to Abilene.
“It’s a great plan,” Baldwin said. “We should be ashamed of ourselves for not thinking of it on our own, instead of sitting here starving.”
“Before you give me too much credit,” said Danielle, “remember that my purpose is to lure that bunch of outlaws into the open. I figure a herd of cattle will do it.”
“Let them come,” Baldwin said. “At least we’ll have a chance to fight for our herds. As it is now, they’re stealing us blind. The only way we can stop that is to take our own cows to market, and to kill as many of these thieving bastards as we can.”
“We can count on you then,” said Tuck.
“You sure can,” said the four Baldwins together.
“We’ll need extra horses, a team of good mules, and a wagon,” Danielle said. “Can you help us?”
“If we’re all going on the drive,” Baldwin said, “we can take all four of our horses. I believe both Enos Chadman and Wallace Flagg have wagons and mules.”
“We’re calling on them next,” said Tuck. “Unless you hear something different from us, then be at our place at noon tomorrow. We must start the gather soon, and finish the drive, if we’re going to do it before snow flies.”
Enos Chadman, his wife, Maureen, their son, Eric, and their daughter, Katrina, received the news of the proposed gather and drive with enthusiasm.
“We have a wagon and a team of mules,” said Chadman. “You’re welcome to make use of them.”
“Wallace Flagg also has a wagon and mules,” Maureen said. “Perhaps we can take both the wagons.”
“We may have to,” said Chadman. “With all you ladies going, you may be riding the wagons so that the riders can have an extra horse or two.”
“We’ll talk to Wallace about maybe using his mules and wagon,” Tuck said. “Unless we tell you otherwise, be at our place at noon tomorrow. We have to make plans and decide what supplies we’ll need.”
“While the rest of you start the gather, Tuck and me can go to Dallas for supplies and ammunition,” said Danielle.
Wallace Flagg, his sons, Floyd and Edward, and wife, Tilda, were as responsive as the other small ranchers had been.
“We’ll be glad to take our mules and wagon,” Flagg said, “but be sure when you go for supplies that you get a couple of sacks of grain.”
“We’ll get the grain,” said Tuck. “I figure each animal should have a ration of grain three times a week.”
The Carlyle Ranch. North Texas. August 5, 1870.
Wallace Flagg, along with his sons and wife, arrived first. Tilda Flagg drove the wagon. Next came Enos Chadman, his wife, his son, and daughter. His wife drove the wagon. Cyrus Baldwin and his family were next to arrive. Last to arrive was Elmer Dumont, with his wife and son. There was an impressive display of livestock, about eight mules and eighteen horses in total. Some of the horses were being led, because most of the women rode on the wagons.
“Thanks to Daniel,” Mrs. Carlyle announced, “we have coffee.”
There were whoops of joy from all those gathered, for they had been forced to do without many things before, during, and after the war. Sipping their coffee, they gathered on the porch. There were chairs for the ladies while the men hunkered down, rocking back on their boot heels.
“Ma has paper and pencil,” said Tuck, “and she’ll make the list. Each of you sing out the provisions you think we’ll need. Don’t bother with ammunition. We’ll get to that and the weapons after we’ve decided on everything else.”
As the list grew, Danielle worried that the three hundred dollars she had promised to provide wouldn’t be nearly enough. Finally, they were ready to discuss weapons and ammunition.
“Thanks to the Comanches, every damn one of us has a rifle,” said Wallace Flagg, “and if I ain’t mistaken, they’re all sixteen-shot Henrys.”
“Anybody got any other kind?” Tuck asked.
Nobody spoke, and they quickly moved on to revolvers.
“Now,” said Tuck, “all of you with pistols raise your hands.”
All the men and their sons raised their hands.
“That’s eleven including me,” Danielle said. “What make?”
“Colt,” they all answered at once.