anyone.”
A wave of resentment came up, and Fielding stifled it. The less said, the better.
Selby spoke again. “I think everything’s going to blow over, though.”
“I wouldn’t know. If they wanted to get even for Mahoney, they might for these other two as well.”
“Oh, I don’t think anyone’s interested in gettin’ even at this point.”
“How’s that?”
Selby’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, I guess you haven’t heard yet.”
“No, I haven’t. I just got back, and you’re the first person I’ve talked to.”
“Well, big doin’s,” Selby began. “This comes by way of Ray Foote.”
“I would have thought he went home.”
“Well, he was goin’ to, but Cronin asked him to go out on one little job before he drew his pay.” Selby moistened his lips and continued. “Seems that Cronin had heard about the wild man livin’ out on Richard’s place, and Cronin didn’t like it. He wanted the Magpie for a line camp. So he went out there with Ray and Cedric alongside.”
“That must have been a good show of force.”
“Not so much. According to Ray, the crazy man came out of the stable, and as soon as he found out who Cronin was, he went into a rant about how Cronin had had a man killed and was trying to steal his place. Cronin said somethin’ high-handed, and the crazy man reached inside the door of the stable and came out with a shotgun. He blew Cronin right out of the saddle, and those other two lit out at a dead run.”
“Whew!” said Fielding. “Just like that.”
“How I heard it. They got up a party to go out there later, and the crazy man was long gone. They brought back the body, of course.”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.”
“Huh.” That would have been about the time Adler made his way into the mountains.
Selby’s face brightened. “So like I said, I think things are going to blow over.”
Fielding tensed again. “Well, that’s fine. But I’ve still had enough. I’m going to get my things together, and I might not be long for this place.”
Selby glanced at the white horse, and with a dubious tone he asked, “Did you come for your tent?”
“Not right now. I’ve got to pick up a saddle in the livery stable in town, and I can tie the tent onto it when I come back through.”
“Oh.”
“But I did come for something.”
“What’s that?”
“Richard’s two horses. I think I should leave them where he would want them to go.”
Selby’s eyes widened. “Where would that be?”
“With Leonora.”
On the ride into town, Fielding mulled over the news about Dunvil and Cronin. He found it amusing to imagine Cedric jolting away on a fast horse, but a lesser part of the story was interesting to consider as well. Cedric must feel as if he had been left high and dry. His sponsor was gone, the object of his attentions had been taken away, and the Argyle had taken a big drop in status.
Thinking of Susan Buchanan led Fielding to another speculation. Her father must have known trouble was coming. He must have wanted to keep from being drawn in as well as to remove his daughter from the company of someone in Cronin’s camp. The big augers were supposed to stick together, but Joseph Buchanan had looked out for himself. In that respect he was not much different from Henry Steelyard or even Selby and Roe.
When Fielding took the matched sorrels to the house where Leonora stayed, she came outside. Her face was lined and weary, and her brown hair was combed and pinned back. The glow of the setting sun colored her cheeks as she looked at the horses with an uncertain expression.
“I don’t know what I could do with them,” she said.
“You don’t have to decide right away. I can leave them at the livery stable for you. The saddles go with them.”
She gave a faint shrug, and her eyes tightened.
Fielding said, “I think Richard would want you to have them.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Richard was a good man. Everyone else in this valley was so stuck on his own self- interest that I thought Richard was the last good man on earth.” She blinked, and her eyes stayed moist. “Now I can see he wasn’t. Thank you, Tom.”
He had to clear his throat to speak. “You’re welcome, Leonora. I wish you all the best.”
Her lips moved, and then she spoke. “The same to you, Tom.”
Fielding turned into the lane at Roe’s place at mid-morning. He was riding the buckskin and leading the other five. The dun was saddled for riding, and the remaining four carried all his belongings and gear.
Andrew Roe came out from the house and stood in the front yard, rubbing his face and waiting for Fielding to come to a stop. When Fielding swung down from his horse, Roe said, “Looks like you’re packed up again. Off on another job?”
“Not today.” Fielding looked at the stubbled face, but the pale brown eyes did not hold steady. When they came back, Fielding spoke again. “I think I’m done here. Had enough of all this, and gonna move on.”
Roe’s eyebrows lifted as he said, “Oh.” He glanced down the line. “Bel said you lost a couple of horses.”
“I did. Three altogether.”
Roe pushed out his lower lip and put his hands in his pockets.
When it seemed as if the man was not going to speak, Fielding asked, “Is she around? I wouldn’t mind talkin’ to her.”
“Oh, sure.” Roe turned and went on his slow way to the house.
Isabel came out a minute later, dressed in a clean white blouse and a pair of dark blue corduroy trousers. She tossed her wavy dark hair, and with a much lighter tone than her father’s she said, “Good morning, Tom. I’m glad you came by.”
“It’s good to see you.”
She glanced at the string of horses. “Are you on your way somewhere?”
He had thought through his words several times, but nervousness still got in the way. “I guess so. Well—yes, I am. Like I said to your father and Bill Selby before that, I’ve had enough. There’s only one thing keepin’ me here, and that’s you. I’m not walkin’ away from you. If I need to, I can come back.”
Her eyes showed concern, but she did not seem flustered. “Where do you have in mind to go?”
“I’m not sure. Generally, north and west. I know I can find work anywhere I go.” As his eyes met hers, he could tell she was not troubled at all. His words came easier. “It seems like I’ve been on the move so much, and after a while a person thinks he’d like to try stayin’ in one place. That’s it. I’d like to have a place of my own. It doesn’t have to be much.”
She had come a step closer. He could tell she had had a bath, as she smelled like dark cedar. Her eyes were shining as she said, “It’s what you make of it, what it means to you.”
This was his moment. He took a deep breath and went on. “I might never have much to show for myself, but whatever I make, I’ll do it without running over the top of someone else, or beating another man out of what he’s got. It’s one way of being free—that, and not having to make up to the bigwigs. If you think you can live with that, we can try boiling our coffee in the same pot.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Did you think I would say no?”
He tipped his head. “Not really. I just didn’t know if you wanted me to come back later, after I had a place, or a definite situation, or whatever.”
She stepped back and looked over his string of horses again. “This looks good enough to go on,” she said.
He couldn’t be sure he had heard what he did. It seemed as if all the tension he had ever felt had broken away. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“I was waiting for you to come back.”
“Do you mean that—?”
