Only 05 - Autumn Lover

movement.
    Mickey strode away from the bunkhouse toward the barn. There was no rifle in his hands. If he had noticedthe raiders, he hadn’t taken any precautions against their return.
    Unless , Hunter thought sardonically, Mickey was lying low in the bunkhouse because he was worried about his own dainty little hide .
    “Morning,” Hunter said. “Little late getting to work, aren’t you?”
    “I cut my hand. Had to wrap it up.”
    Mickey waved his left hand in Hunter’s face. There was a dirty bandanna wound around the palm.
    “Unwrap it,” Hunter said.
    For an instant Mickey just stared.
    Whatever he saw in Hunter’s slate-gray eyes was persuasive. Without a word Mickey unwrapped his hand.
    Hunter never looked away from Mickey’s eyes. Only when the younger man’s hand was naked did Hunter spare a quick glance at it. There was a shallow scratch across the palm.
    “Hardly worth the trouble,” Hunter said.
    Mickey looked sullen.
    “Didn’t you hear the dogs barking?” Hunter asked softly.
    “Damn dogs are always barking.”
    “Maybe that’s because there are always raiders back in the bush, waiting for a chance to sneak up on the ranch.”
    “Nah,” Mickey said. “Them Culpepper boys won’t move openly so long as the army is mapping out this way.”
    “You can bet your life on that if you like, but don’t bet Miss Sutton’s.”
    “I wasn’t—”
    “Next time those dogs bark,” Hunter interrupted coldly, “I better see your rifle poking out, looking for a target. Otherwise a man could be forgiven for wondering about the state of your backbone.”
    Mickey’s mouth flattened, but he held his tongue.
    “Where are Lefty and Gimp?” Hunter asked.
    The younger man didn’t respond right away, mainly because he was watching Elyssa walk hurriedly toward the ranch house.
    “Counting cows, likely,” Mickey muttered.
    His eyes tracked Elyssa until she vanished beneath the shadows of the porch that ran along the front of the house.
    “Where?” Hunter asked.
    “Huh?”
    “Look at me when I talk to you.”
    The knife edge of command in Hunter’s voice got Mickey’s attention. Uneasily he looked at Hunter.
    “Where are Lefty and Gimp working?” Hunter repeated curtly.
    “Down to Cave Creek and beyond, like you told them. They weren’t none too happy about it. Ladder S riders have been shot at down that way.”
    “They’re drawing double pay.”
    “Huh? I ain’t!”
    “Finish the water barrels. If you still want gunfighting pay, come to me and convince me that you’re worth it. If you can.”
    For an instant Hunter thought Mickey would draw on him. Part of Hunter hoped he would. The thought of Mickey hiding out in the bunkhouse while Elyssa faced Gaylord Culpepper alone was enough to make Hunter’s gun hand itchy.
    He waited for Mickey to decide. Hunter didn’t expect to kill Mickey, but he sure would teach the boy that a gunfight wasn’t the only way to get hurt.
    While Hunter was at it, he would teach Mickey a few manners. Not staring at Elyssa would be a good place to start.
    With a muttered word, Mickey went back to winding the bandanna around his palm.
    “I’ll be hauling water soon,” Hunter said. “Have those barrels ready.”
    Mickey grunted.
    “What was that?” Hunter asked.
    “Yes. Sir . Damn waste of time. That old crick may be little, but it ain’t never run dry, and even if it did, the reservoir would be good for a week or two.”
    “Work on the water barrels and leave the strategy to someone who is trained for it.”
    Mickey knotted the loose end of the bandanna, jerked on the knot with his teeth, and headed for the barn.
    Hunter stood for a time in the barnyard, listening carefully. The fitful wind carried no sound of gunfire. If Lefty and Gimp were in trouble, they were too far off for the sounds of battle to carry to the ranch house.
    I need more men , Hunter thought. Men I can trust .
    Or at least men who will take the pay and do the work without having me dogging their footsteps every hour of the day .
    So much to be done .
    So little time to do it .
    Hunter stood without moving, thinking rapidly, planning the work as though it was a campaign against an entrenched enemy.
    In many ways it was.
    From what Hunter had been able to find out, at least one of the Culpeppers had been in Ruby Valley since before spring roundup. Gaylord, likely.
    There were probably more Culpeppers around, brothers or cousins or both. As they all looked alike, it was hard to