“You were always closer to father. But what does it matter? We have lost both of them, and now Julio. There are just the four of us left, and if Steve and Armando go to the Circle T, we might lose them, too. The Circle T has more cowboys than we have vaqueros.”
“What if”—Trella was jarred by a possibility that had not occurred to her—“what if the cowboys attack our rancho while our brothers are off attacking the Circle T? Who will protect us?”
“They would not stoop so low as to slay unarmed women.”
“They killed Mother,” Trella bitterly reminded her. Until this moment, she had not been afraid for her own life. Now the fear was like a lance thrust deep into her chest. “They will stop at nothing. They are out to destroy the DP.”
Dolores was quiet for a bit. Then she slid off the bed, saying, “Come with me.” Without waiting, she walked unsteadily into the hall.
Trella hurried after her, patting her hair and wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. “Where are we going?”
Dolores did not answer. Presently they came to the kitchen. Steve and Armando were there, seated across from one another.
Paco and Roman and a pair of nervous vaqueros were waiting by the door. They all took off their sombreros.
“So it is settled,” Steve was saying. “We hit them hard and fast. Strike and run, again and again, until we have whittled their numbers.”
“It is cowardly,” Armando said.
Steve disagreed. “It is smart. There aren’t enough of us. Our only hope is to wear them down without losing a lot of our own men.” Steve’s jaw muscles twitched. “They have an advantage, but we have justice on our side.”
“I am glad you have come to your senses, and I do agree we must strike quickly,” Armando said. “There can be no doubt they mean to wipe us out. They are not content with half the valley. They want it all.”
Dolores stopped at the kitchen table. “Trella and I are coming with you,” she announced.
“Be serious, sister,” Armando said.
“Think,
“Surely they would not,” Armando said, and then scowled and rumbled deep in his throat like a bear at bay. “No. I must stop deceiving myself. The rules of civilized society are nothing to them. You are right. If they caught you two unprotected, your lives would be forfeit.”
“They murdered Mother,” Trella brought up again as confirmation. She gazed out the window, imagining how it must have been for Juanita: abducted from her home, forced to ride north, dying of a broken neck. A thought struck her, and she gasped. “How did they know?”
“I beg your pardon?” Armando said.
“How did they know it was safe to take Mother? That everyone else was asleep? Did they take it for granted? Or were they watching our casa? Are they watching our casa now?”
“We would see them if they were out there,” Steve remarked.
“Not if they were a long way off,” Trella said. “Not if they are using a spyglass like the one Senor Tovey has.”
Armando came out of his chair. “She is right! Remember when he showed it to us? A cowboy could be out there right this minute.”
“What about his horse?” Steve was skeptical. “We can spot horses and cows from a long way off.”
“Not if they are lying down,” Armando noted, “and horses can be taught to do that. Remember the cowboy at the last rodeo? The one who taught his horse all those tricks?”
“If so, there is nothing we can do about it,” Steve said. He glanced at Trella and Dolores. “But getting back to these two. I do not think we should take them along. There will be shooting. A lot of it.”
“You talk about us as if we are not standing right here,” Dolores said. “But you can not leave us here unprotected.”
“I agree,” Armando said.
“Four vaqueros will stay,” Steve proposed. “If the cowboys attack, Dolores and Trella and the servants can hide in the root cellar.”
Dolores shook her head. “What if the cowboys burn our casa down around us? No. You can not spare the four vaqueros. We are going, whether you want us to or not, and this is final.”
“I do not like putting you at risk” Steve said.
Dolores refused to be denied. “We are safer with you than by ourselves. Or would you rather Trella and I end up like Mother?”
All eyes were on Steve. He smacked the table, and looked fit to strangle someone, but he said, “Get ready to go.”
Timmy Loring rode like the wind. He had to get word to Kent Tovey and Clayburn. They must learn about Hijino. Everything was not at all as it appeared. He was not quite sure what was going on, but Mr. Tovey and the foreman would figure it out.
Timmy wondered what they would do. Maybe send a rider to the Pierces with word of the slaughter he had witnessed. They must grab Hijino and question him, find out why he did what he did.
The Circle T’s buildings were a lot farther from the river than the DP’s. Timmy still had a couple of miles to go when he spied a rider galloping west. The man spotted him, and immediately changed direction to intercept him.
Reining up, Timmy waited. His horse nickered and stamped. “You won’t believe it!” he declared when he recognized who it was. “You just won’t believe it!”
“Believe what?” Lafe Dunn asked.
Excitedly, Timmy told him about the shooting, ending with, “Then Hijino up and trotted off as casually as you please! What do you make of it? Him blowin’ the wicks out of his boss and those other vaqueros?”
“There’s more to this than anyone suspects,” Dunn responded. “A lot more folks will die before it’s over.”
“Maybe not.” Timmy arched his spine to relieve a slight cramp in the small of his back. In doing so, he placed his right hand on his revolver. “Once Mr. Tovey hears about this, he might offer to meet with the Pierces. To sit down and talk.”
“They will refuse. By now they don’t trust him.”
“Knowin’ Mr. Tovey, he’ll persuade them to listen to reason.” Timmy had dallied long enough. “Well, I have to go.” He gigged his mount.
Within a dozen yards, Dunn was alongside him. “I’ll ride with you, if you don’t mind. I’d like to hear what Mr. Tovey has to say.”
“Be my guest.” Timmy rose in the stirrups, but he could not see the house or stable yet, and they were the highest structures. “What were you doin’ out this way, anyhow? It looked as if you were lightin’ a shuck for the high country.”
Dunn gave a start. “What makes you say a thing like that?”
Timmy shrugged. “Call it a hunch. I wouldn’t blame anyone for stayin’ shy of this mess. Look at all the people who have died.”
“Quite a few,” Dunn said. He turned from side to side, surveying the valley far and wide. “And you’re next.”
Dunn’s revolver swept at Timmy’s head. Timmy tried to duck, but the barrel slammed into him above his ear. He felt himself start to fall. Unconsciousness claimed him, but not for long, because when he opened his eyes, he was being hoisted onto his saddle, his wrists bound in front of him. His hat had been jammed on his head.
“There. Anyone spots us, they won’t suspect anything unless they get close, and I won’t let anyone get that close.”
“What’s the big idea?” Timmy’s head hammered with pain, and drops of blood trickled down his neck.
“It will come to you, boy.” Dunn gripped the reins, climbed on his mount, and headed west toward the distant
