The Marshal Meets His Match. Clari Dees

“How exactly did you manage that?”

      Jonah’s hearty laugh thundered out. “She’s a handful, but I’ll take a strong, opinionated female over a silly, pampered flibbertigibbet any day of the week.”

      “As will I, but that doesn’t explain how you managed to get her to go so quietly.”

      “A good sergeant never reveals his secrets, Captain. Besides, I have a hunch you’ll figure out how to handle her. Half the fun of courting my Sally was figuring out how to deal with her strong temperament.”

      “Sorry to disappoint you, but a lawman’s life doesn’t leave room for courtin’.”

      “Are you still stuck on the notion you have to have a ‘safe’ job before you can have a wife?”

      “It’s not a notion. I saw more than one bride-to-be hightail it back East when she saw her future living quarters. I saw wives leave their husbands because they couldn’t handle the long absences, and I saw women devastated when their husband rode in draped over the back of a horse. I won’t do that to a woman.”

      “You saw a couple of bad examples and focused on them instead of the good ones. What about my Sally?” Jonah sounded a bit offended.

      Wyatt hurried to soften his remarks. “You were the exemption to the rule. Sally was special.”

      Memories glistened in the tough old sergeant’s eyes. “That she was, that she was.”

      Wyatt changed the subject. “Back to the reason I rode out here—what do you have to tell me that you didn’t want Miss McIsaac to hear?”

      “You always were one of the sharper knives among that lot of army brass. We did have a horse go missing for several days before showing up among some of our cattle all covered in dried sweat. I don’t want Miss Meri to be worryin’ about it just now since there’s nothing she can do. I’ve questioned all our hands, but no one noticed anything unusual, and I trust our men. We’ve got a few who can be a little wild occasionally, but they’re all honest fellows. Mr. McIsaac has given all of us a hand up when we were down on our luck, and not a one of us would do anything to hurt him or Miss Meri.”

      “Are any of the men available that I can talk with them?”

      “Barnaby, our foreman, and most of the hands are out doing various chores. If you’re hungry, we can grab a sandwich from our cook, and I’ll introduce you to the ones in for lunch. Barnaby should be back in as well, and you can ask ’em any questions you have. Afterward, I’ll take you out and show you where we found that horse.”

      “I’d appreciate that.”

      Over lunch Wyatt met the handful of cowboys that assembled for food. None of them knew anything more than what Jonah had already told him, and to a man, they had nothing but concern and well wishes for their wounded “Boss man.”

      When everyone drifted back to their various tasks, Jonah brought up a couple of fresh, saddled horses. “Ready to ride, Captain? Barnaby hasn’t made it back, but I’ll wager we’ll run across him before we return to the ranch.”

      Wyatt mounted the horse. “You’ve probably told me as much as he can, but I’d appreciate getting a chance to meet him. And I thought I told you to call me Wyatt?”

      “Too many years in the army. Captain comes easier to the tongue.”

      Jonah led the way across the ranch yard, and as they passed the main house Miss McIsaac stepped out on the porch. “Hold up! I’m going with you,” she called out.

      “No. Stay put. Jonah’s going to show me around, let me get a feel for the land out this way and maybe catch up with your foreman. I’ll be back to escort you to town before it gets dark.” Wyatt lifted his hat and loped his horse away, ignoring the protests from the woman on the porch and Jonah’s sardonic snort.

      Chapter Five

      Jonah waved a hand toward the land in front of them. “This is where we found that horse day before yesterday. He’d been ridden hard and still had the dried sweat, saddle and spur marks to show for it. Made the boys livid. Not only had someone stolen one of our remuda from under our noses, they also used it badly in the process. Our hands pride themselves that when they do use their spurs they do it with such gentle finesse they never leave a mark or a sore spot on the horse.

      “I backtracked the rider and found where he’d had a fresh mount waiting. After he’d swapped, he set ours loose. Both sets of tracks led into and out of that churned-up ground where the trail herd circled town a few days ago.”

      Wyatt nodded. “That’s where we lost him when we were tracking him. We caught up with the drovers, but they said they hadn’t seen anybody, and we couldn’t find where he’d turned off before it started raining.”

      “He was pretty slick about it. I might not have found it if he hadn’t used the same route coming and going from the cattle trail. He used an offshoot of Little Creek to hide his tracks, but he was a little less careful after he swapped horses. I was able spot the signs of his previous trip when I trailed the new horse back. I didn’t follow him any farther after he hit that trail—figured we had our horse back and that was the end of it. We let the surrounding ranchers know to keep an eye on their own remudas and left it at that. Never thought about it being connected with what had happened in town.”

      “The tracks’ll be washed out, but show me where you trailed him so I can get an idea of where he was and where we lost him.”

      “Sure ’nuff. We’ll go right through the area Barnaby was plannin’ on workin’ when he left this morning. If he’s still there, we’ll stop and chat.”

      They did meet up with Barnaby and several other hands moving cattle to another area for fresh grazing. Wyatt was impressed with the graying, quiet-spoken man, but again didn’t learn anything new. Barnaby promised to keep his men alert to anything that might be of interest to the marshal. He also told Jonah to ride in with Wyatt and stay in town where he could keep an eye on the Boss man and Miss Meri.

      The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and Wyatt got a feel for the land. It was beautiful mountain-valley country, and he was impressed with the way the land was being utilized to its fullest potential. Every time he saw the strange-looking woolly red cattle, the memory of a laugh rang through his thoughts.

      The McIsaac ranch lay west and slightly north of Little Creek and the bandit had ridden out of town heading east. The trail herd had bypassed the town on the west before veering northeast toward Denver.

      “Do the trail herds always go this direction?” Wyatt asked. “Seems like it’d be shorter to go around the east side of town.”

      “We don’t have as many now that the railroads are getting more accessible, but a few still come around the west side and across a portion of our range because McIsaac allows them access. There are more farmers on the east side now, and they don’t appreciate their crops getting torn up. Most of the trail bosses do their best to ensure they do the least amount of damage possible,” Jonah replied.

      Wyatt studied the land. “When we first lost the tracks, we continued east in the direction he’d been traveling. We followed the trail herd until we caught up to the drovers, then we backtracked and had almost made it to where you’re showing me he cut out before it began to rain. If we’d come this direction first, we might have found his trail before it rained and been closer to catching him.” Wyatt was frustrated. “Why did he circle back around the town and stay in the area when he knew a posse was after him? Why didn’t he get as far away as he could, as fast as he could?”

      “Maybe he did. By coming this way, he did the unexpected and bought himself more time,” Jonah mused.

      “This is definitely not an auspicious beginning to my job as Little Creek’s marshal, and if I don’t catch him and get the bank’s money back, it’ll be a very short-lived job. The good citizens are understandably nervous about that money,” Wyatt groaned.