Buck and the Widow Rancher (2006) Read Online Free PDF

hand, Buck asked about the possibility of cattle rustlers working the area.
    ‘Naw, we haven’t lost any head in a long time. Fact is I can’t recall ever losing any. Oh, the odd cow’ll be cut out and run off. I figure that’s just some sodbuster from down south putting in a bit of winter eating. But this time, well, I think it was more than that. Probably some thirty or forty head.’
    ‘Any idea of how many riders were doing the job?’ Buck pulled the makings from a shirt pocket and, after offering the sack to the foreman, rolled a quirley.
    ‘Maybe half-a-dozen riders,’ Hank answered, shaking out the tobacco into the thin paper and rolling his own smoke. ‘It was on south of here, over near where the bluff peters out. That rimrock just fades away the further south you go. South of the property a ways it almost melts into flat land. A lot of dry land farming down there. The herd looked to be pushed south, but I doubt if any of the farmers down there saw them. I expect they were headed out into the flats and around. Go south far enough and you come to the Big Valley railhead. That’s where all the ranches in this area and thosefurther down the valley ship their livestock from.’
    Watching the hands work the herd below, Buck asked, ‘Exactly where did you find the sign?’
    ‘East of here and a little south. When you get close to the rim watch for a big tall slab-sided rock sticking straight up. It goes up a couple hundred feet, I’d guess. Some dude once explained that way back when, that was the inside of a small volcano. I don’t understand it exactly, but the story is that over the centuries the volcano cooled and the mountain around the hard rock weathered away, leaving that finger sticking up. I dunno about that, but we use that landmark as the southern boundary.
    ‘Anyway, just a bit south of there, close to where the land slopes up is where we found the trace. It was a couple of days old to look at it so we didn’t follow it. Maybe should have, but we were starting this gather and had other things to worry about.’
    Buck carefully put his cigarette out and, settling his hat squarely on his head, thanked the foreman. ‘Well, I don’t know what I’ll find now, but guess I’ll go take a look. Thanks for your help, Hank. I’ll probably see you back at the ranch, sooner or later.’
    ‘Oh, one other thing. There’s a couple of sheepherders that run their flocks down there. Just to let you know. Maybe they saw something, if you should happen across them.’
    Reining the black away, Buck nodded and headed south.
     
    It was much later in the afternoon when Buck found a small spring and watered his horse. Hoofprints, not only cattle, but that of deer and other wildlife had led him to the spring that was hidden behind a thick growth of brush. Only the bushes close to the water were green, the outer layer sunbaked and brown. Anyone missing the animal tracks could very easily have ridden on by and never known there was water there.
    Riding on he sighted the towering rock finger and even from a distance could tell it was a good marker. Straight and slick-sided, it was as Hank said, very identifiable.
    Again it was the smoke that gave him direction. Making his way around the base of the monolith Buck came upon a herd of woollies. The smoke was pouring out of a tin chimney pipe sticking at an angle out the side of a canvas-covered wagon. Stopping well away from the wagon, Buck raised one hand and yelled out, ‘Hello the wagon.’
    A door, unseen from where he sat, opened in the back of the wagon and an older man stepped down. After taking a minute to inspect the visitor, the man waved Buck in.
    ‘Welcome, stranger. Welcome to my fire. It is good for you to arrive now as we can be hospitable and invite you to share our supper.’ The man was, Buck saw as he climbed down from the saddle, older than he first thought. Wrinkles lined his sunbrowned face and under a narrow-brimmed floppy hat, hair that had