Buchanan's Seige (10 page)

"And
have them tellin' lies all over? It's too late for
Brad. Too late."

"And the hell with 'em," roared Crane.

"And what about when it's done?" asked Bradbury.
"Then what story do we tell?"

"Our own story," said Fox.

"They're rustlers and killers. Anything we say they are.
Right, Dealer?"

"That's the way it's got to be," said Fox.

"And all those men we brought in? You think they
won't talk when it's over?"

"Let 'em talk. Nobody'll believe them against us. You
got to realize, Brad, we are the law."

"Sure," said Crane. He tossed off another drink. "By
God, that's us. The law: We own this country, we come in
here and took it and made it ours."

"There can't be two sides," Fox insisted. "It's either
them or us."

"Yeah, Brad, you gotta remember that."

Bradbury said, "I'm goin' to give those women a chance
to get outa there."

Crane began to holler, but Fox put up a hand. "Tomor
row we'll talk about it. Dawn, ain't it? Pollard said dawn
was best, like when Injuns attack. People ain't awake and
ready. There's no sun to cheer 'em. Dawn."

Crane said, "And the hell with the women."

"Come on, Morgan, you've had enough to drink," said
Fox. "Come on, now."

They left, Crane swaying, unsteady, his voice loud and
disputatious as Fox led him to the buckboard outside the
fence that surrounded the patio. Consuela came from the
house and sat opposite her husband.

"You heard 'em," he said.

"You are into it very deep."

"I don't like it about the women."

"You hanged Adam Day."

"Not me. I was against that."

"You were not there to prevent it. You wished Adam
Day and the other people would go away. So you hired
Pollard and you have your association. And a man was
hanged."

"Damn it, woman, there's nothin' I could do about it."

"I know," she said.

"What could I do? Let 'em overrun us? Give up to 'em? After all I done to build this place, this ranch?"

She smiled. "Can you see them taking it away from
you? Those little people? Can you see them stealing and
burning ... and lynching?"

He stood up. He paced the patio with its imported flag
stones, its high fence, its flowered paths. "There's nothin' I
can do now but get the women out of there."

"They will not go," she told him.

"You don't know that."

"I would not go," she said softly.

"Like Dealer says, it's them or us."

She shook her head. "I am glad the children are away."

"You turnin' against me, Connie?" He looked de
spairingly at her, his hands spread. "Are you, finally?"

"No."

"But you're against what's happening."

"Yes."

"There's nothin' I can do. It's too late."

"Yes. It is too late." She arose and went into the house,
closing the door behind her.

He walked back and forth, back and forth. It had all happened too fast, he told himself. There was no way he could have stopped it. He had sent for Buchanan, he had
tried, knowing Buchanan's way with people.

Now they would kill Buchanan. Meaning no harm, indeed meaning well, he had brought the big man he so re
spected to his death.

But the women
...
He had never harmed a woman in
his
life.

And if he tried to interfere, if he went too far, Dealer
and Crane would kill him, he saw clearly. The other
members of the association would stay out of it and back
op Dealer and Crane through necessity. The whole matter
had got completely out of hand.

There was no escape, now. If he tried to stop the forces
be had helped set in motion, he would lose wife, ranch,
children, everything. He picked up the whiskey bottle and
drained it.

Trevor was on watch when Buchanan rode the buckskin
in. The horses would be a problem. It was best to turn
loose any which could not be protected by the stone barn.

Trevor said, "Cactus and Sutter are holed up. Durkin's
in the house. He'll be trouble whichever way it goes."

"Yes," said Buchanan. "Been studyin' the layout. Good
to have people in the barn. The roof
’ll
do, too, behind that
stone parapet. Dangerous, but we'll have to risk it."

"Too many of 'em, right? Pick off a few. Maybe dis
courage 'em for a while. That's it, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh," said Buchanan. "That's the way it looks.
Got to keep thinkin' on it, though. No use givin' up before the thing starts."

"Yes." He went on, "Ever been to England?"

"Not yet. Thought of Scotland sometimes. Might look
up the Buchanans. And the MacNamaras."

"Filthy climate, England. Excepting this time of year.
Hants is lovely this time of year."

"Hants?"

"Hampshire. Town of Romsey on the Test. One could
walk across the Test in boots, but we're that way, the Brit
ish. Folks have a place near Romsey."

"I see." .

"Very green. 'The grass is greener on the old sod,' they
say. It's very green here, now, isn't it?"

"I'd say so."

"Different hue of green. Ah, well."

"Wish you were back there?"

"Not really. 'We owe God a death.' Shakespeare, y'
know. Doesn't make much difference so long as it's in a
good cause. How many people just... die?"

"Everybody's thinkin' of dyin' around here," said Bu
chanan. "Me, I'm studyin' about how to live."

"Good man," said Trevor. "Right-o." He wandered
away, making his rounds.

Buchanan went into the room where Coco and Weevil
were ly
ing around the floor, each choosing a spot. The hog farm
ers were together near the fireplace. The Kovacses
were in the second bedroom with the Indian girl. The
Whelans lay close together wrapped in blankets, their
guns at their sides.

Buchanan went into the room where Coco and Weevil
were awake with their pain. He unrolled his blankets,
closed the door, keeping his voice low.

"Yawl gettin' along?"

"The old man and the Injun gal," said Weevil. "They
done good for us."

Coco moistened his lips. His voice was far away. "Can't
walk around, Tom. He musta beat hard on me. I kayoed
him, but he musta hurt me more'n I knew."

Weevil said, "Sometimes he thinks it was the prizefight
where he got beat."

There was some of the gruel left in a mug. Buchanan smelled it, choked a bit, then gave it to Coco sip by sip,
holding the round, black head in a big hand. He had become extremely fond of his friend over the years. "You
goin' to be all right. Just try and sleep."

Coco swallowed, made a face, closed his eyes. "I hit
him with two rights, Tom. He had to go down. How'd
he,
come to hurt me so?"

"Just sleep," Buchanan whispered.

After a moment, Coco was breathing easily, lying on his
back, hands crossed on his chest.
Buchanan sat down and
removed his boots.

Weevil whispered, "He never hollered once. I hollered.
Told 'em all I know. That black man, he's dead game."

"Can you put names on those who beat him?"

"Pollard, Dorn, Tanner, Geer. Some others, maybe.
They gone loco, I swear."

"Power," said Buchanan. "Little men with power
they're not used to. They hanged a man, y' see. Made 'em
feel big."

"It's beyond me."

"Beyond ordinary understanding." He put his head
down and willed himself to sleep. For a while, it did not
work. He saw Coco being
beaten;
he saw Adam Day's
contorted features. His mind went to what was coming.

It was no good to dwell on it. He had covered every
angle that he could conceive.

The woman had said that he didn't believe. That ran
kled. He wrestled with it for a few moments, then his weariness combined with his wish and he slept.
The Indian girl awakened Buchanan. The first pink light
reflected from the mountains westward was peeking
through the narrow window. He reached for his boots.

She said, "Everyone is in the house. The bad people are
nearby."

"It's time." He went into the kitchen and used water to
wash his hands and face, not throwing it out, saving it in
case
of fire. He went to the door and opened it a crack.

The first bullet splattered against the heavy portal, and
: swung it closed, and now everyone was awake in the
Kovacs' house except Coco, who slept fitfully, turning and moaning at the pain in his chest.

Buchanan said, "They'll be' pepperin' the windows. Don't anybody answer their fire until I give the word.
Can't waste ammunition."

He went to one of the windows at the front of the
house. A shot pierced the glass, and he knocked out the rest of it with the butt of his rifle. He could see them on
the knoll, and a puff of smoke came from the trees, high up, as the other window was smashed by a
fusillade
. He aimed at an angle, not showing himself. It was important
to make them fearful right now, at the beginning. He took
a deep breath. Another shot and another puff of smoke,
and he pressed the trigger.

There was a yell and a crashing of branches. A man
tumbled from limb to limb and lay still upon the ground.

Trevor drawled, "I say, if he wasn't killed by the bullet, the fall would've been the death of him, what?"

Durkin said from behind Buchanan, "They got high gun
on us."

"The roof," Buchanan said. "Need a couple men up
there."

"Right," Trevor agreed. He went nimbly up the ladder
with his rifle and a box of shells.

"Now you people. Keep your heads down and watch
out for ricochets. Understand?"

Durkin said, "Ain't no way of duckin' bullets, Buchan
an. I say let's git out there and try 'em."

"Across open ground?"

"You ever seen what a charge can do? Scares saddle-
bums like them to pieces."

"There's some sharp gunnies up there," Buchanan told him. "You want to run at 'em? Go ahead."

Durkin mumbled, "Takes more'n one. No guts around here, I kin see that."

Buchanan ignored him. The hog farmers were standing
by, guns in their hands, looking a bit lost. He said to them,
"You two. Go up with Trevor. Lay low and only shoot
when he tells you or you see a plain target."

They were thin enough to easily squeeze through the
narrow trapdoor. A bit fearfully they went, son following
his father. They had been very subdued since Buchanan
had lectured them. He wondered if they could shoot or if
they would have the stamina to stand up under a siege.

Kovacs and his wife and Amanda were standing by a
cleared long-table ready to reload guns as fast as they
were emptied. All seemed calm enough. The Indian girl was again with Coco and Weevil, practicing her healing art. No one had shown panic at the first shots. They had
been steeling themselves.

Durkin said, "I dunno, Buchanan. It don't look good to
me."

"Now that's funny," Buchanan said. "I thought it
looked just dandy."

"I ain't sure you know what you're doin'."

Buchanan found a mirror on the wall. He arranged it so
that he could obtain a pretty good view of what was taking place outside the front of the house without exposing him
self at the window.

He said to Durkin, "You want to try something? Make
a run for the barn and help hold it down."

"I dunno if I want to
"

Just then a white flag was waved from the woods. With
out further ado, Durkin went to the back door and trailed
his rifle out to the barn. Bradbury, Pollard, and Dealer
Fox appeared, Pollard carrying the white cloth.

Buchanan called, "Not too close."

Pollard and Fox stopped, Bradbury walked on a few
steps and shouted.

"Buchanan. Want to talk to you."

"Little late for that, Colonel."

"No. I don't want any unnecessary killin'."

"Just the necessary kind, huh? You with an army out
the
re."

"Well, we want to get those people out of the country.
Specially the women. They got to go, Buchanan. Ain't no,
two ways about it."

"Tell me more."