The Dilemma
Part Two

By AKeays

“It’s about time you got back,” Deputy Clint Wylie groused. “I was about ta go in search of Curry who went in search of you.”

Heyes grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that, fellas. I got turned around.”

George Bradford snorted. “The great Hannibal Heyes got turned around? What have you really been up to?”

“George, c’mon,” Marshal Matt reprimanded his deputy. “Anyone can get lost out there. Remember what happened to us? Why don’t you just give the man his supper and let him be.”

George scowled but dropped the subject. He piled some elk tenderloin and potatoes onto a plate and clattered it onto the table.

“Thanks, George,” Heyes said as he sat down to eat. “You’re always such a ray of sunshine.”

***

A week later, the spring sun had been busy doing its job. Most of the snow at the lower elevations had melted, leaving behind slushy puddles and slippery mud. Though coats were still needed, the warmth of the days was a telltale sign of the balmy weather to come.

It was Heyes’s turn to stay back and tend to the cabin and the cooking for the day, so Curry and Deputy Bob Wilkins had partnered up to go in search of strays. This arrangement suited both, as Bob was a likable young man, and Curry enjoyed his company and conversation.

The Kid had dismounted and was examining tracks made in the wet ground by several recalcitrant cows that had refused to stay with the main herd. He straightened, then looked up the hill into some rough country. He sighed.

“Looks like we got some climbin’ ta do.”

Bob followed his gaze. “You sure they went up that way?”

“Nope,” the Kid admitted. “But the direction these tracks are headed, it do seem likely.”

Curry mounted and turned his horse to the rocky trail.

Bob sighed but followed.

“Why do these cows always gotta head for the worst terrain?” he groused as his horse scrambled for footing. “Why can’t they make it easy on us?”

Curry smiled but didn’t answer.

An hour later, the small herd of three steers and two heifers were located, along with one addition to the group. A calf, only a few hours old, stood on wobbly legs beside one of the heifers.

Curry pulled up and rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t ya’ know it? We got ourselves an early calf. I guess that explains why she wanted ta get away from the main herd.”

Bob and Curry sat their horses and contemplated the problem.

“Huh,” Curry grumbled. “Now, what do we do? That calf is gonna break a leg if we push ‘im on this terrain.”

Without hesitating, Bob swung down from the saddle. “I’ll carry ‘im down. This heifer ain’t a mean soul; she’s worried about her baby, is all.”

Curry moved his horse forward to get between the cow and Bob while Bob picked up the bawling calf and remounted.

“There. Now, wasn’t that easy?” Bob reorganized himself and the calf so they both fit comfortably. “Momma don’t mind at all, do ya, Momma?”

The heifer bawled loudly but was then content to follow along behind Bob’s horse as they reunited with the other four cows.

Curry chuckled and shook his head. “You’re wasted as a lawman. You ought’a be a rancher.”

Bob grinned. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

***

Bob set the calf down on its feet and let it join his momma. The heifer sniffed him and gave him a quick lick on the face, and then she and the other wayward cows melted back into the main herd and disappeared.

Curry’s attention was then drawn to the lower end of the group as a commotion began, and the cattle started bawling in agitation.

Bob mounted up and pulled his rifle.

“There they are!” he shouted. “Them damn rustlers are cutting out a bunch of beeves.”

He raised his rifle and took a shot, which only got the thieves to move their contraband faster.

Bob put heels to his horse and charged through the herd towards the disappearing outlaws.

“No, Bob! Wait!” the Kid yelled after him, but it had no effect. “Dammit!”

Curry’s horse reared, then plunged forward into the midst of the anxious cattle, following the horse in front of him without any encouragement from his rider.

Curry held on, hoping the horse would stay on its feet and not trample them both.

The horse himself was infuriated at these stupid beasts that hindered him. He plowed through them, with ears pinned and teeth biting to force them out of his path.

Curry came out the lower edge of the herd, and his horse galloped along the rough trail that the rustlers had hewn into the muddy ground.

He couldn’t see Bob, but he could hear gunfire and knew they were not far ahead of him. Then the shooting stopped, and all he could hear was the snapping of branches, the bellowing of cows, and the shouts of men as the stolen herd was pushed on into the distance.

Then Curry spotted Bob’s riderless horse standing a short distance away. He moved forward, his gut in a knot for fear of what he might find.

As he came up on the loose horse, Curry saw Bob lying in the mud.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he dismounted.

“No,” Bob croaked. “I’m hit.”

“Damn.” Curry knelt beside him. He could see where the bullet had gone through Bob’s jacket, so he undid the buttons and pulled the heavy material away. “It don’t look too bad,” he said. “Can ya sit?”

“I’ll try,” Bob said, and he clenched his teeth as the Kid helped him up.

“Yup, there’s a hole in the back of your coat, too. The bullet went right through ya, Bob. You’re lucky. It’s still bleedin’ a bit, but do ya think you can get on your horse?”

“I’ll try,” Bob repeated.

“Okay. Let me get the padding from my bag ta help stop the bleeding, then we’ll get you back to the cabin.”

***

The atmosphere in the cabin was solemn as Bob slept by the fire.

“Dagnammit,” Matt grumbled. “First, he falls into the creek, and now he gets shot. I expect Bob will be handing over his deputy badge when we get back to town.”

“Yeah,” Curry agreed. “He don’t seem cut out for this.”

Matt remained quiet for a moment, and then his eyes settled on Heyes. “Did you know those fellas were there? That night, when you were late getting back, you didn’t just get turned around, did you?”

Heyes and Curry exchanged a quick look.

Curry shrugged.

Heyes sighed. “No.”

“I knew it!” George groused. “Outlaws to the core, both of ya. You were probably in cahoots with them fellas all along.” He started to stand as though intending to attack Heyes right then and there.

Curry was on his feet instantly.

Matt was faster and put an end to it.

“George, sit down and shut up.” He looked at Curry. “You, too.”

The Kid glanced at Heyes and seeing the affirmative from him, he also returned to his chair.

“C’mon, George,” Heyes reasoned. “You’ve just spent the whole winter up here with us. We’ve gotten to know one another. Do you really think I would be plotting against you?”

George sat in silence, then shrugged. “Nah, I guess not. But it’s a real convenient coincidence.”

“And that’s all it is,” Heyes told him. “An inconvenient coincidence.”

“There’s more to this than meets the eye,” Matt stated. “Why didn’t you tell me they were there?”

“They’re friends,” Heyes admitted. “They used to run with Devil’s Hole.”

George and Clint exchanged a look but remained silent. They were willing to hear this out.

“They’re good guys,” Heyes defended his choice. “Well, two of them are. But they were never into rustling. They came across the cabin and decided to winter there. They took a couple of beeves to help get through, but that was it. I saw no reason to doubt what they said.”

“You should have told me anyway and let me decide that,” Matt stated.

“In hindsight, I see your point,” Heyes admitted. “But I was stuck in the middle. I won’t turn on my friends, and to be honest, I don’t think they’re the ones who did this.”

“What?” Clint spoke up for the first time. “Don’t ya think it’s kind’a obvious?”

“No, Clint, I don’t,” Heyes countered. “Those fellas wouldn’t hurt anybody. Schuster is a bit twitchy, but rustling isn’t their game, and I doubt Schuster would try to kill anyone. I wouldn’t have let him stay at Devil’s Hole if I thought that. From what the Kid says, those rustlers were aiming to kill, and that just doesn’t fit with these fellas. Why don’t you let me and the Kid go down there and—”

“No,” Matt was adamant. “What’s gonna happen is me, Clint, and George are gonna go down there. You and Curry will stay here. Bob will need tending anyway.”

“But Matt—”

“No! Your job is to tend the cattle; our job is to get those rustlers. That’s it. You and Curry stay here.”

Throughout that winter, Heyes had never seen Matt get angry, but he was angry now, and Heyes decided it might be best to leave it be.

***

The following morning, Heyes and Curry waited on the porch while the lawmen stood by their horses and tended to last-minute details.

It was a quiet group until the Kid straightened up and pointed down the hill.

“Look ’it there. Three riders comin’ in.”

All eyes turned towards the approaching horsemen. The lawmen pulled their rifles and stepped away from their horses. There was no such thing as being too careful.

The trio approached, making sure their hands stayed in sight. They pulled up a few yards away and took note of the marshal’s badge peeking out through the unbuttoned coat. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, but they were here now.

“Howdy,” the first man greeted and frowned at the rifles pointing at him. “We don’t mean no harm. Just got some information for ya.” He smiled as he recognized the two men on the porch. “Howdy, Heyes, Kid. I thought you was the only ones up here. What ya doin’ hangin’ out with a bunch ‘a lawmen?”

Heyes stepped forward. “It’s a long story, Cooper. Maybe I’ll tell it to you some time.”

“I knew it,” Schuster said, and he spit to the side. “I knew them rumors was true. You and the Kid jumped the fence, didn’t ya? Goin’ for that stupid amnesty, and now you’re even workin’ fer the law. Damn. Ya can’t trust nobody these days.”

Matt glanced back at Heyes, realizing that another piece of this man’s intricate puzzle had just fallen into place.

“We come up ta tell ya,” Cooper cut in, “that we didn’t rustle no cattle. After what happened yesterday, we were afraid that Heyes might think we done it. But we got our pride, and I wanted ta let Heyes and the Kid know that we would never stoop so low as ta rustlin’ cattle.

“Them fellas came by the cabin a couple a days ago. They accused us of bein’ filthy squatters and told us ta get. Fine thing, them callin’ us filthy. But there were six of ‘em, and they all looked mean, just like you’d imagine rustlers ta look. So, we packed up and skedaddled.

“Then last night, we saw ‘em at a distance, running about twenty head ‘a cattle down the mountain. They’d gone right on by their cabin. I guess they figured it weren’t safe for ‘em no more.

“We packed up our stuff and settled back into it and had a comfy night. Then we thought maybe we better clear things up with Heyes here and let ya know it weren’t us. I expect them rustlers is long gone by now.”

“Dammit,” George grumbled. “Are we gonna chase after them fellas? I wanna get home.”

Matt sighed and shook his head. “No. We’re not prepared for a long chase. I figured we’d catch them at the cabin. Plus, we have an injured man.” Matt hesitated as he looked at the ragged men sitting on their horses. “You fellas got any idea where they might be heading?”

“Maybe the Maddison’s’,” Schuster suggested. “They’re known fer takin’ rustled stock.”

“Dang,” Reed stated. “Rustled stock is all they take, but they’re over Colorado way.”

“And good luck findin’ their spread,” Cooper added. “It’s well hid and well protected. Even if you’re a rustler, ya gotta prove they can trust ya.”

“Where else, then?” Schuster was ticked that his suggestion was being criticized.

“That’s what runnin’ irons are for,” Cooper told him. “They change the brand and take the herd to the railhead themselves.”

“But they gotta hole up somewheres ta change the brand,” Schuster insisted. “The cabin we’re in is set up just for that. Maybe they got another around here. This is a big spread. Dang, they could have a whole bunch ‘a places set up for brandin’.”

“That don’t help us find them, do it?”

Schuster was ready to retort, but Matt put up a hand.

“Enough!” he said. “This is worth further discussion, but not out here on a cold, spring day. How about you step off your horses and come in for some coffee?”

The three men looked at one another, and they each shrugged. “Yeah, sure. That’d be good.”

Matt nodded. “George, put our horses back for now and show these fellas where they can put theirs. Give ‘em all some hay.”

George grumbled. “Ah, dammit. Why do I always get the lousy jobs?”

All members of his group sent him various looks of skepticism.

“Okay, fine.” George acknowledged his overreaction. “I’m cold, too and another coffee sounds real good about now. You fellas come on with me. Let’s get this done.”

The three horsemen dismounted and followed the grumbling deputy towards the barn.

“Clint,” Matt turned his attention to his other deputy, “why don’t you heat up those beans and bacon? We can all sit down to a real breakfast. I think there’s going to be a lot of stories to tell around the table this morning.”

Clint headed inside to tend to brunch while Matt shook his head as he stepped back onto the porch.

“You two sure do keep a man guessing,” he said to Heyes and Curry. “No wonder no one has been able to get you to trial. But is it true? Are you campaigning for an amnesty from the Governor?”

“Yeah, it’s true,” Curry said, “But that’s another story. And we still don’t turn on our friends.”

“I can see that. It’s a story I’d still like to hear.”

“Next Christmas, Matt,” Heyes said as he clapped the marshal on the shoulder and followed him into the cabin. “That’s a story for next Christmas.”