The danger did not bother him.But he was growing more and more tired of it.Sometimes it seemed to him that a man could ride a thousand miles west and still never quite leave violence behind.But that was the reality of life here in the mountains.
The judge broke into his thoughts.“First, you should collect what you’ve earned.”
“What would that be?”He’d spent a night in jail for no reason.He’d come here this morning without making a fuss.But his patience was about pinched out.
“Two of those men had bounties on their heads.You’re a hundred dollars richer.”
Caleb’s irritation cooled slightly at that.
A hundred dollars he could use, for sure.
ChapterSix
Patterson unlockeda drawer and pulled out a stack of bills.Caleb waited to feel the hook set.There had to be a catch.
As the man counted out the money, Caleb was thinking of that snake of a sheriff.Horner knew this outside.His fists were itching to knock a few of the sheriff’s teeth loose.Maybe Caleb would pay him a visit before leaving town.If he could find the woodpile Horner slithered into.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, he reminded himself that a man could spend his whole life settling scores and still wake up empty the next morning.
The cash slid across the desk.A hundred dollars was a hundred dollars.He stuffed the money inside his coat, snugging it up against the dead rustler’s letter to his mother.Caleb wondered if he was one who had a bounty on his head.
Money like this meant fencing wire, lumber, feed, supplies.Another piece of the ranch finished.Another step toward building something lasting instead of drifting from one hard trail to the next.Another step toward something solid.
“Where do you hail from, Mr.Marlowe?”The judge leaned back in his seat.
“Here and there.Been everywhere.”Caleb pushed to his feet.“My weapons?”
Patterson gestured to a table in the corner, and Caleb strode across the room, picked up his belt with the twin Colts, and strapped them on.
The familiar weight settled against his hips like an old habit he’d never quite managed to shake off.
“No.Originally, I mean.Where were you born?Who were your folks?What did your father do?”
No one in Elkhorn knew the answers to those questions and never would.Everywhere he’d been, folks asked the same thing, but Caleb felt no need to satisfy idle curiosity.
“Born under a rock and raised by wolves, they tell me.”
The older man’s face hardened for a moment, and then his features relaxed somewhat.“Ha!Well, a fellow has a right to keep his history to himself.”
“My knife?”Caleb asked, picking up his rifle.
The judge watched him approach before taking the knife out of a drawer and laying it on the desk in front of him.
“It’s a beauty.I was hoping you’d forget about it.”
“Not likely.”
“It belonged to Jacob Bell, didn’t it?”Almost reverently, Patterson picked up the massive wood-handled hunting knife, its twelve-inch blade sheathed in buffalo leather.
Caleb wondered how he knew.
“I’ve heard so much about this weapon.I’d hoped to see it for myself one day.”
“Well, now you have.”
“In these parts, Jacob Bell is more legend than man.But you should know that better than anyone.”
“I know the man.Legends are just made-up stories mostly, I’ve found.”
