“No, we’ll go back another way. I’m sure you would like to see some of the ranch.”
“As a matter of fact, I would.”
Chapter Twelve
Coventry on the Snake was mostly rolling upland grassy country. As they rode back, in the distance Matt could see mountains, dark blue at their base, and rising to majestic heights where little spindrift-like tendrils of snow trailed away from the brightly gleaming snow-covered peaks, white, against the bright blue sky. The prairie below the mountains was ablaze with a colorful profusion of wildflowers: yellow Yarrow, red Indian Paintbrush, light blue Mountain Phlox, and purple Trillum.
Just ahead of them, a jack rabbit ran along with them for a short distance until it grew tired, then it stopped and watched as the two riders passed by.
The range was divided by fences, into several different pastures, each pasture area containing a specific breed of horse.
“If I didn’t keep them separated, it would be no time at all until I had such a mixture of breeds that the horses would be practically worthless,” Kitty explained. “As you can see, I have nothing but purebreds, specific as to their purpose: draft horses, carriage horses, horses that are best for pulling stagecoaches, and saddle horses,” Kitty said.
“I see you also have a few head of cattle,” Matt said, pointing to a distant field where a rather substantial herd of cattle grazed.
“Only about five hundred head,” Kitty replied. “They are what is left from Tommy’s original cattle operation. They are also a hedge. If my note comes due and I can’t pay it, I believe I can sell off the cattle for enough money to renegotiate the loan.”
“Good plan,” Matt said.
When Matt and Kitty returned to the house, they saw a carriage parked in the driveway.
“Looks like you have company,” Matt said.
“That carriage belongs to Marcus Kincaid,” Kitty replied. “I wonder what he wants.”
“Only one way to find out,” Matt said.
Kitty urged her horse into a trot and Matt kept up with her. As they rode into the drive, the door to the carriage opened and a well-dressed man stepped out.
“Hello, Kitty,” the man said.
“What are you doing here, Marcus?”
“Now, is that anyway to greet your own stepson? Who is this?” he asked, looking at Matt.
“This is Matt Jensen. He is a friend of mine. In fact, he has been a friend since we were children together.”
Marcus extended his hand. “It’s good to meet an old friend of Kitty’s.” he said. “I hope you find your visit to Idaho pleasant.”
“I’m enjoying it so far,” Matt replied. He was still mounted, so he was able to refuse the offered hand without it being too obvious. He nodded instead.
“You didn’t answer my question, Marcus. What are you doing here?” Kitty repeated.
“I’ve been concerned about you,” Marcus said. “I just came out here to see how you are getting along.”
“You go to court to try and take everything away from me, and now you say you are concerned about me? Am I supposed to believe that?”
“I was wrong, taking you to court the way I did,” Marcus said. “I guess I was hurt, and maybe a little angry, that Papa Tom left me out of his will. I mean, after all the years I was a part of his family, for him to just forget about me the way he did—well, it hurt my feelings. But I had no right to take it out on you. And now that I look back at it, I can see that what I did might be taken as an act against you, personally, and I don’t want you thinking that.”
“What are you saying to me, Marcus? That you will make no more attempts to take over Coventry?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Marcus said. “The issue was settled in court, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s over.”
“Well, I appreciate that. Does that also mean that I don’t have to worry about Poke Terrell killing any more of my hands?”
“Now, Kitty, that isn’t fair. You know I don’t have anything to do with Poke Terrell. I have no idea why he suddenly showed up here.”
“What about Madison and Jernigan? They worked for you at one time, didn’t they?”
“Yes, they worked for me once, a long time ago. But they quit last year. As far as I know, they are out in California by now.”
“They’re dead,” Kitty said.
“Dead? How do you know?”
“Because I killed them,” Matt said. “Just like I killed Sam Logan.”
“Logan, yes, he was a real bad sort. He tried to come to work for me once, but when I found out he had served some time in prison, I said thanks, but no thanks. And you say you killed Sam Logan?”
