Chapter 5 - What Margaret Was Worth
Nathan tore the note in half.
Margaret snatched the pieces from his hand.
"What are you doing?"
"You're not going."
"The note was addressed to you."
"It threatens you."
"It threatens Daniel."
Nathan paced beside the burning barn while the men fought the flames.
"I'm ending this."
"By walking into whatever trap Barlow prepared?"
"If that's what it takes."
Margaret grabbed his arm.
Nathan stopped.
It was the first time she had touched him deliberately.
"Do not confuse courage with volunteering to die."
His eyes dropped to her hand.
She released him.
Nathan said, "I can't ask men to follow me into this."
"You don't have to."
Eli appeared behind them covered in soot.
"Good. Because we're going anyway."
Caleb stood beside him.
Old Tom too.
Nathan looked at them.
"This isn't your fight."
Eli laughed.
"They stole our cattle, shot Jesse, burned our barn, and insulted Mrs. Hayes's meat curing."
Caleb nodded solemnly.
"That last part was too far."
Margaret almost smiled.
Nathan did not.
But the warmth in his chest surprised him.
They studied the note.
No location.
That meant another message would come.
It arrived at sunrise.
A boy from town rode up carrying an envelope.
He had been paid a nickel by a stranger to deliver it.
Inside:
BARLOW CANYON. NOON. BROOKS ONLY.
Nathan looked at Margaret.
She said, "Obviously we're all going."
"Obviously."
At eleven they rode out.
Nathan rode openly.
The others followed through a dry wash where the canyon walls hid them.
Margaret rode with Eli.
She carried no revolver.
Nathan had offered one.
She refused.
"I'd be more dangerous to myself."
Instead she carried the small skinning knife she used at the butcher table.
"You know how to use that?" Nathan asked.
"I know how not to."
Barlow Canyon narrowed near an old cattle loading chute.
Charles Barlow waited there.
Nathan had known him since boyhood.
Sixty-two.
Silver hair.
Expensive saddle.
Clean coat.
The kind of man who looked respectable even while committing a crime.
Three armed riders stood behind him.
Daniel sat tied to a chair.
His face was bruised.
Alive.
Nathan dismounted.
Charles smiled.
"Nathan."
"Charles."
"Didn't expect us here, did you?"
"I expected somebody."
Charles looked amused.
"You always were your father's son."
Nathan's anger sharpened.
"Did you kill him?"
Charles's smile faded.
"Straight to the sentimental questions."
"Answer."
"No."
Nathan almost believed him.
Then Charles continued.
"I paid someone else."
Nathan moved.
Three rifles rose.
Daniel shouted, "Don't!"
Nathan stopped.
Charles sighed.
"William was stubborn. Brilliant, but stubborn."
"You murdered him."
"I protected what I built."
"By stealing from everyone around you?"
"By surviving."
Nathan glanced at Daniel.
"Let him go."
"Give me the key."
Nathan's expression remained blank.
"What key?"
Charles smiled again.
"Margaret is more clever than she looks."
Nathan hated the sentence.
Charles saw it.
"Careful. You're beginning to like her."
Nathan said nothing.
"Funny, isn't it? You advertised for someone to salt beef."
"She does it better than anybody I've seen."
Charles laughed.
"That's what this is about? Domestic admiration?"
Nathan looked at Daniel.
"No. This is about you giving him back."
Charles dismounted.
"The key."
Nathan took one step closer.
"No."
Charles nodded to a rider.
The rider struck Daniel.
Margaret watched from the ridge above.
Her hands clenched.
Eli whispered, "Wait."
Nathan had insisted she stay hidden.
She hated him for being right.
They needed surprise.
Charles said below, "Robert hid something. Daniel doesn't know where. Margaret does."
"She doesn't."
"Then she becomes useless."
Nathan's face changed.
Charles noticed.
"Ah."
He smiled slowly.
"Now I understand."
Nathan's voice dropped.
"Don't."
"You're protecting her."
"Charles."
"Did she crawl into your bed already, or are you still pretending this mail-order arrangement is respectable?"
Nathan hit him.
The punch landed clean.
Charles fell.
Rifles moved.
Daniel kicked the chair sideways into one rider.
Nathan tackled another.
Eli shouted.
The ridge exploded with movement.
Caleb and Tom fired warning shots from above.
Margaret rode down.
Charles rolled toward his gun.
Margaret reached him first.
She kicked the revolver away.
Charles stared up at her.
"So."
Margaret dismounted.
"Mr. Barlow."
He smiled despite blood at his mouth.
"Mrs. Hayes."
"You had my husband killed."
"Your husband killed himself a little at a time."
Margaret flinched.
Charles saw it.
"He was weak."
"No."
Her voice remained calm.
"He was frightened."
"Same thing."
Margaret looked at him for a long moment.
Then she said, "Not even close."
Nathan freed Daniel.
Barlow's men surrendered when Eli disarmed the last rider.
For one brief second, it seemed finished.
Then Charles laughed.
Nathan turned.
"You think these papers matter?"
Daniel's face changed.
Charles continued.
"I own the sheriff."
Nathan's stomach dropped.
"I own the judge who visits this county twice a year. I own the bank holding your note. And by tomorrow morning, I will own Brooks Ranch."
Nathan went still.
"What?"
Charles smiled.
"Your loan was called yesterday."
Nathan stared.
"You can't."
"I don't have to. The bank can."
Nathan's ranch had been mortgaged after the drought.
He had never hidden that.
But his payment was not due for three months.
Charles said, "Unless you can produce twelve hundred dollars by noon tomorrow, the property becomes bank collateral."
Caleb whispered, "Twelve hundred?"
Nathan barely heard him.
That was impossible.
Even with the stolen cattle recovered.
Even if he sold everything.
Charles stood.
"So arrest me."
He held out his wrists.
"Watch how quickly I walk free."
Nathan looked toward his ranch in the distance.
For years he had fought drought, disease, debt, bad markets.
Now one man could take everything with a piece of paper.
Margaret stepped closer.
"Where are the cattle?"
Charles looked at her.
"Find them yourself."
Daniel suddenly said, "I know."
Charles's smile vanished.
Everyone turned.
Daniel pointed east.
"Old rail pens beyond Mason Ridge."
Nathan's heart jumped.
If the cattle were recovered, he could sell part of them.
Not enough by noon.
But perhaps—
Margaret interrupted.
"How much beef do you have stored?"
Nathan looked at her.
"What?"
"How much?"
"Not enough for twelve hundred dollars."
"Not raw."
She looked toward the ranch.
"Preserved."
Nathan stared at her.
She was calculating.
He could see it.
"Margaret."
She turned to Eli.
"How many ranches lost winter stores in the spring flood?"
Eli blinked.
"Half the county."
"How many mining camps north of Junction are buying cured meat?"
"A lot."
Nathan understood.
"There's no time."
Margaret's eyes met his.
"There is if everyone works."
Nathan said, "Even if we sold every piece at premium price—"
"I'm not talking about what you already have."
She looked at Daniel.
"How many cattle at the rail pens?"
"Sixty-three."
"Any injured?"
"Probably."
She turned back to Nathan.
"We don't need all of them alive."
Nathan stared.
Then he understood fully.
They raced home.
For the next eighteen hours Brooks Ranch became something Nathan had never seen.
A machine.
Recovered cattle arrived before sunset.
Four animals were injured badly enough that they would not survive transport.
Instead of losing them, Margaret organized immediate butchering.
Eli handled men.
Nathan rode to neighboring farms.
Caleb drove a wagon to Junction with samples of Margaret's cured beef already prepared.
Old Tom contacted the mining camp cook.
Margaret directed everything.
Salt ratios.
Cuts.
Brine.
Smoke.
Cooling.
Packaging.
Nothing wasted.
Bones for broth.
Fat rendered.
Trim saved.
Nathan returned after midnight and found her still working.
Her dark curls clung to her face.
Her dress was stained.
Her hands were red from cold water.
"You need rest."
"I need twelve hundred dollars."
"It's my debt."
She looked at him.
"Not if I'm going to marry you."
Nathan froze.
Margaret did too.
The words had escaped before she could stop them.
For once, the fearless woman from Kansas looked uncertain.
Nathan stepped closer.
"You still intend to?"
She swallowed.
"That was the arrangement."
"That's not what I asked."
Before she could answer, Caleb burst through the door.
"We've got buyers!"
Nathan turned.
"How many?"
"All of it."
Margaret closed her eyes briefly.
Caleb grinned.
"Mining camp wants double if we deliver before noon."
Nathan's hope surged.
"How much total?"
Caleb's smile faded.
"Eleven hundred and forty dollars."
Silence.
They were sixty dollars short.
Nathan looked at the clock.
Two hours until sunrise.
Six hours until the bank deadline.
Margaret took off her hat.
"We'll find sixty."
They searched everything.
Cash drawer.
Saddlebags.
Personal savings.
Nathan had thirty-one dollars.
Eli offered twelve.
Caleb seven.
Tom five.
Five dollars short.
Margaret went upstairs.
She returned carrying the little Bible.
Nathan shook his head.
"No."
She opened the back cover.
The hidden key cavity contained something else.
A thin folded bank certificate.
Robert had hidden it there.
Margaret unfolded it.
Her hands began trembling.
Nathan read the amount.
Five hundred dollars.
More than enough.
But the certificate was made payable to Robert Hayes.
May you like
And stamped across its face were the words:
ACCOUNT FROZEN BY ORDER OF CHARLES BARLOW.
