Free The Forbidden by William W. Johnstone Page B

it. I’ll do the same damn thing to him if his actions or remarks ever warrant it.”
    â€œYou’re a fool, Morgan,” Wells said in a low voice. “You can’t fight every rancher on the north end of the valleys.”
    â€œYou want to bet your life on that?”
    The foreman elected not to respond. He turned away with a muttered curse and said, “One of you boys get a buckboard from the livery to haul Cort back to the ranch.”
    â€œYou want me to get Doc Everett to look at him ’fore we do?” another hand asked.
    â€œNo. I don’t want that mean-mouthed bastard to look at him. We’ll get Doc Woods.”
    Frank stood on the boardwalk and listened to the Circle. 45 hands talk, all the while flexing his fingers to help keep them from stiffening up. They would be sore from the pounding against Cort’s face, but nothing was broken. He would soak both hands in hot water and salt later on.
    He glanced up and across the street at the crowd that had gathered on the boardwalk, Julie and Shelley among them. He started to step off the boardwalk and walk across to them when Cort suddenly moaned.
    â€œI’ll . . . kill you . . . for this,” the busted-up cowboy mumbled through loose teeth and smashed gums. “That’s a... promise.”
    â€œAnd if he don’t, I will!” another Circle .45 hand blurted out.
    â€œShut up, Dick,” Langford said. “We’ll get our evens ’fore long, you can bet on that.”
    â€œI’ll sure be around,” Frank informed them. “And you boys best keep in mind what I said about staying off my property and Miss Julie’s property.”
    Both of Cort’s eyes were almost swollen shut, but Frank could see the hate shining through the swelling. I’ll have to kill that man someday, Frank thought.
    Doc Everett strolled up and glanced at Cort, then over at Langford. “You want me to take a look at him, Wells?”
    â€œI want you to keep your damn hands off him!” the foreman lashed out.
    â€œWith pleasure,” the doctor replied. “Maybe the community will get lucky and he’ll die.”
    â€œYou’re a mean bastard, Doc,” Dick said.
    â€œI’m a realist.”
    â€œHuh?” Dick asked.
    â€œNever mind. It would take the rest of the day trying to explain it to you.” He looked at Frank. “Heard you were back in town. Julie told me moments before the fight. She seems quite fond of you.”
    â€œShe’s a nice lady.”
    â€œYes. That she is. I hope your intentions are honorable.”
    â€œThey are.”
    â€œAre you unscathed after this brief battle?”
    Frank smiled. “I know what that means, Doc. Yes, I’m fine.”
    â€œThat’s good to hear. Oddly enough, I believe you.” Doc Everett stuck the stub of a cigar into his mouth and walked away.
    â€œHere comes Luke with the buckboard,” a hand said. “Looks like he put some hay in the back to soften the ride.”
    Cort was loaded into the buckboard and the Circle .45 hands rode out, after they all gave Frank dirty looks. Frank walked across the street to stand beside Julie and Shelley.
    â€œAre you all right?” Julie asked.
    â€œOh, yes.”
    â€œWhat was all that fighting about?”
    â€œI got upset about some ugly comments he made about you.”
    She looked up at Frank. “I won’t ask what they were.”
    â€œBest you don’t.”
    â€œYour hands look swollen.”
    â€œA mite. But they’ll be all right. I’ll heat water and soak them this afternoon.”
    â€œYou’ll stop by the house and I’ll heat water for you.”
    Frank smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

NINE
    O nce Frank outlined for the builders what he wanted, he left them to their sawing and hammering and nailing and started rounding up what was left of the cattle. Jefferson had not registered any brand, so Frank marked