Billy Lovejoy was sitting at a table with Candy, having paid enough to buy her company for as long as he wanted it. He had been following the discussion with increasing agitation.
“It is almost like they want Pa to go after that cowboy,” Billy said.
“He won’t, will he, Billy?” Candy asked.
“I don’t know,” Billy answered. “I’m afraid he will. He was really upset by the way the hearing turned out.”
“But you were here that night,” Candy said. “You saw it just like the rest of us did. You know that the hearing did the right thing by saying he was innocent.”
“Yes, I saw it,” Billy said. “But Pa didn’t see it, and Doyle and the others who did see it are telling him just what he wants to hear.”
“Why don’t you tell him what really happened?”
“I have tried, but he doesn’t listen to me,” Billy said. “And the truth is, even if he had seen it with his own eyes, he would still believe what he wanted to believe. Frank could do no wrong, as far as Pa was concerned.”
Back Trail Ranch
When Billy Lovejoy got home that night, he saw his father sitting in the big leather chair in his parlor and staring at the burning logs in his fireplace. Seth Lovejoy had been drinking, almost non-stop, for the last three days. He was inebriated, but not the kind of staggering, fall-down, speech-slurring drunk one might expect. Instead it was a slow-mounting anger that ate at his soul.
“I see you are home,” Seth said. “Have you been with your whore all evening?”
“I’ve been with Candy,” Billy said.
Seth chortled, an evil-sounding cackle. “Hell, boy, I don’t mind you being with whores,” he said. “I know your brother spent time with whores too. The only thing I mind is you being dumb enough to think that you have fallen in love with one. She is playing you for a fool, thinking that if she could convince you to marry her, she could come out here and live high on the hog on my ranch. Well, she ain’t goin’ to, ’cause I’m tellin’ you right now, if you marry that whore I’m takin’ you out of my will. You won’t get one red cent.”
“Do you think I would let that decide whether or not I marry Candy? Pa, you need to ease up a bit on the drinkin’.”
“In case you didn’t notice it, I’ve got a reason to drink. My son, who also happened to be your brother in case you have forgotten, was killed.”
“Getting drunk isn’t going to bring him back.”
“It don’t bother you none that Frank was shot down in cold blood?” Seth asked.
“Pa, you heard all the witnesses. Every one of them said that Frank drew first.”
“They’re lyin’, ever’ one of ’em,” Seth said.
“I was there too, and I saw it. Do you think I’m lying?”
“You are either lying, or you didn’t see everything that happened. You know how fast Frank was. There couldn’t anybody beat him. Not in a fair fight, they couldn’t.”
“Face it, Pa. This was goin’ to happen to Frank sometime. He was always on the edge, always pushing people, always ready to fight over the least insult, real or imagined.”
“Just like you are always ready to run from a fight,” Seth said. “You aren’t half the man Frank was.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Billy said.
“What do I have to do, to put a little gumption in you?” Seth asked.
“I’m not sure what you mean by gumption,” Billy said. “If you mean how can you turn me into Frank, you can’t.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Do you know how much I’m worth, Billy?”
“I have a good idea.”
“I’m sure you do,” Seth said. He squinted his eyes and looked at Billy accusingly. “And now, with Frank gone, you’re thinkin’ it’s all goin’ to come to you, aren’t you? Hell, you are probably glad Frank got himself killed so that you don’t have to split the inheritance with him.”
“I don’t think about the inheritance,” Billy said. “I wish you were nothing but a store clerk, or a wagon driver or something. If you were, Frank would probably still be alive.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Pa, you not only encouraged Frank to be the way he was, you pushed him into it.”
“I did, and why not?” Seth replied. “When you have as much property as I have, you have to be willing to protect it. It’s for sure and certain you’ll never do anything to protect it.”
“And look what it got you,” Billy said. “A dead son.”
“The wrong dead son,” Seth said with a low growl.
“You’re drunk, Pa,” Billy said. “That’s the liquor talking, not you.”
“There is a way you can redeem yourself,” Seth said.
“How? Not that I feel that I need redemption.”
“You can kill the man that killed your brother.”
“No,” Billy said. “If that’s what it takes for redemption in your eyes, I want none of it.”
Billy started toward the door.
“You are a coward!” Seth yelled at him. “Do you hear me? You are a coward, and you are no son of mine!”
Billy had been through previous episodes of his father’s intransigent anger and irrational behavior, and he knew that he eventually came out of such black moods. He had to admit though that this one was different in that it had been initiated by Frank getting killed, and sustained by heavy drinking. It was also much deeper and darker than it had ever been before. He had no idea how long it would be before his father came out of it this time, but he had no intention of being around until he did. He would stay in Dodge for a while.
The next morning Seth asked Doyle to have breakfast with him. Doyle was the ranch foreman, and had been Frank’s closest friend.
“Tell me, Doyle,” Seth asked as he buttered a biscuit, “how fast was this man, this Matt Jensen, who shot my boy?”
“He was fast,” Doyle answered.
“How fast?”
“Damn fast.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Doyle ran his hand through his hair as he looked across the table at his boss. It was obvious that he wasn’t sure how to answer.
“Frank is dead,” Seth said. “There’s no need to hide the truth from me now. Did Jensen beat Frank fair and square?”
“More than that,” Doyle said.
“What do you mean more than that?”
“Frank started his draw first, and Jensen still beat him.”
“If that’s the case, then I’m not likely to find a gunman who can beat him.”
“Maybe Smoke Jensen, or Falcon MacCallister could, but you know neither one of them are going to go up against him. And I don’t know if they could beat him anyway.”
“Then we are going to have to find another way to kill him.”
“You won’t be able to kill just him,” Doyle said. “Smoke Jensen and Falcon MacCallister? They are riding with him right now. Also a fella named Duff MacCallister, and while I don’t know much about him, him being a MacCallister is about all I need to know.”
“What you are saying is I will have to kill all four of them,” Seth said.
“Yes.”
“All right, that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Mr. Lovejoy, maybe you ain’t listenin’ to me,” Doyle said. “There’s no way we can go up against them fellas.”
“We aren’t going to go up against them in the way you think,” Seth said. “Come in here, let me show you something.”
Doyle followed Seth into the study. There, laid out on a table, was a map of Indian Territory.
“They are taking a herd of twenty-five hundred cows south to Fort Worth, aren’t they? Take a look at this map,” Seth said. “They are going to have to cross the Cimarron. I know that country, and I know that the only place you can ford the Cimarron with a herd is right a-here.” He tapped the location with the end of his index finger.