A Wolf in the Fold

I overdid it. When I finally pushed the last plate back, I was fit to burst and feeling as sluggish as a snail in winter. I told the maid to relay my praise to the cook, and Gertrude mentioned that they had imported him from New Orleans. That was supposed to impress me, and it did with how much she loved money and the trappings that came with having a lot of it. Once again, though, I had to wonder how they could afford feeds like this. The LT wasn’t that big. I knew of other spreads in Texas that ran many thousands more head, yet the owners did not live in the grand style to which the Tanners were accustomed.

Lloyd and Phil clipped and lit cigars. That was when Gertrude rose and invited me to take a stroll. Her husband did not seem to mind. Calista, though, gave me a strange glance.

The air felt nice after the stuffiness. I stretched and allowed as how I could sleep for a week.

“Sleep on your own time,” Gertrude said sharply. “I am not paying you to lollygag. I want them exterminated as quickly as it can be done.”

“By them you mean the Butcher clan?”

“Who else? They are rustling our cattle and I will not stand for it.”

I leaned against a post and folded my arms. Horses were milling over in the corral, and at the cookhouse the cowboys were indulging in a noisy supper. “The two Butchers I met today claim they have had nothing to do with your missing cattle.”

“Have you ever yet met a guilty man who didn’t profess his innocence?” was her counter.

She had a point. It was a rare badman who admitted to being bad. Lynching bees are not all that popular with those being lynched. “There are women involved.”

Gertrude gave me that pointed stare of hers. “So? You have killed women before, I understand.”

“Once or twice,” I admitted.

“Then what is the problem?”

“I always like to be sure with women.”

“I must say, I never expected you to be so particular,” Gertrude sniffed. “Killing is killing.”

“If you think it’s so easy, do it yourself. Or have your husband and son do it. Or your cowhands.”

“Be serious. The finger of blame must not point at the LT. Word might reach the Rangers and I wouldn’t want that.”

She had another point. The Texas Rangers were a salty bunch. I would as soon be dropped in a pit of alligators as tangle with a company of Texas’s finest.

“How soon can you get it done?”

I looked at her. “Understand something. I don’t rush. Ever. Rush leads to sloppy and sloppy leads to dead. I will take as long as I need to take and not a minute less or a minute more.”

She pursed her lips as if she had just sucked on a lemon and begrudgingly said, “Very well. Just don’t take too long. There are factors involved of which you are unaware.”

“Then make me aware of them,” I said.

“Personal factors. All that should concern you is the job and the money.”

Among my peeves is being told what I should and should not be concerned about. “Speaking of which, I want five hundred dollars before I leave tonight or you can hire someone else. The rest is due after they are all dead.”

“I will fetch your money shortly.” Gertrude placed her hand on my arm. “How long will it take? I hate to press you, but it is important.”

I shrugged. “Two weeks, at the most.”

“Surely not.”

“There are nine of them,” I reminded her.

“Couldn’t you just catch them when they are all in their cabin and blow them up?” Gertrude asked.

And folks accuse me of being bloodthirsty. “I could if you want it to be in every newspaper in Texas. As it is, word is bound to spread. But I’ll be long gone, my trail so cold, not even the Rangers could track me down.”

“I suppose you know best,” Gertrude said, but she did not sound as if she believed I did. “Is there anything you need?”

“Just half of the money.”

“Wait here.”

I sat on the rail and pondered. Something about the job didn’t sit right with me, but I could not put my finger on what. Sure, Gertrude was pushy, but it was not unusual for those who hired me to want the job done quickly. Some even tried to tell me when and where I should do the killing. No, this was something else. I chalked it up to the fact I didn’t much like the Tanners. The husband was a lump of clay, the son thought he walked on water, and as for Gerty, she was tougher than most men. Maybe that was it. I generally like females more on the dainty side.

As if that were a stage cue, out the door came Calista Modine. She wrapped her shawl about her slim shoulders and stood beside me, smiling. “I hope you don’t mind my joining you.”

I was thinking of the five hundred. “Not at all,” I lied.

“It’s the cigar smoke. I could do with fresh air.” Calista inhaled, her bosom swelling under the shawl. “It’s pretty here, isn’t it? The setting sun makes the Fair Sister look like a volcano.”

The top of the mountain was bright with color. “Seen a lot of volcanoes, have you?” I joked.

“Nary a one, Reverend Storm,” Calista replied. “But I have an imagination. Don’t you?”