Dig Your Own Grave Read online

  With that to challenge his mind, he led his horses up to the store, intending to enjoy a home-cooked breakfast before he set out to invade the pack of wolves, as Sid referred to the men of Hornet’s Nest. According to his watch, it was six o’clock on the nose, the hour Bella had said breakfast would be ready. He had been up at first light and saddled Buster, then loaded the packs on the other horse. He planned to eat and leave as soon as he properly could without being rude, since he had twenty-five miles to ride before he struck the trail into Hornet’s Nest.

  * * *

  Todd Beaudry stopped short, startled by a man coming out of the parlor, not sure he wasn’t seeing things that weren’t there. After a few moments, he realized who he was looking at. “Ansel Beaudry,” he pronounced first and last names slowly, as if the words left a foul taste in his mouth. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

  “Hello, Todd,” Ansel replied. “Maybe I came home to see if you’re still the same as you were when I left.” The two brothers stood glaring at each other in the darkened hallway between the dining room and the parlor.

  “Why’d you come crawlin’ back here after all this time?” Todd demanded. “How the hell did you get by the lookouts and come walking right in the house, like you were family? Somebody’s gonna get his back broke for lettin’ you slip in here. What the hell do you want, anyway?”

  Ansel sneered to show his contempt for his younger brother. “Why, I just came back to see if you had all dried up and gone to hell. Are you still stealin’ Mexican cattle, two or three at a time, thinkin’ someday you’ll really be cattle rustlers?”

  “Get the hell outta here, Ansel. You ain’t got no business in this house. Get out!”

  “My business is my own,” Ansel said, “and it ain’t none of yours, so get the hell outta my way.” He started to walk toward him and Todd dropped his hand to rest on the handle of his .44. Seeing his threatening move, Ansel smirked and demanded, “Are you fixin’ to draw on me, little brother?” He quickly grabbed Todd’s arm. “You fixin’ to draw on me?” he repeated as he clamped down on Todd’s right arm, taking advantage of his superior strength. “I’ll bust you up good, little boy,” he threatened, and clamped down on Todd’s arm while his brother struggled hopelessly to free himself. “You’re rememberin’ now, ain’tcha, boy? I was always twice as strong as you.” He threw him hard against the wall. “Now, get the hell outta my way before I lose my temper.” He stalked down the narrow corridor to the kitchen door.

  “What is all that racket?” Mae Beaudry complained, and started toward the hallway door to see for herself. When about eight feet from the door, it suddenly opened to present her ex-husband standing, smirking, in the doorway. “Ansel!” she gasped, not sure she wasn’t seeing a ghost, and grabbed the corner of the table to keep from falling. Unable to say more, she backed away, steadying herself on the table until she was stopped when she backed into the solid body of her father-in-law. Mica Beaudry did not speak at once. His eyes, still sharp as they were in his youth, were now fixed upon one he had driven from his home six years ago.

  In the shocking silence caused by this evil specter’s sudden appearance after so long a time, only Ansel had a smile on his face. “Hello, Mae, darlin’, ain’t you gonna give your ol’ husband a kiss?” The frightened woman backed around behind her father-in-law for protection.

  “She ain’t your wife,” Mica said. “You run off and left her, so you ain’t got no claim on her. Ain’t nothin’ else here that belongs to you, neither.” He paused for a moment when Todd walked in behind Ansel, prompting him to step aside, so he could keep an eye on his brother until he walked past him. When Todd went to stand beside his father, staring defiantly at their unwelcome guest, Mica demanded, “What did you come back here for? I told you when you left not to come back. What’s the matter? They chase you outta Missouri? You runnin’ from the law, so now you bring ’em back here to my doorstep?”

  “Howdy, Pa,” Ansel replied, his smug smile still in place. “I knew you’d be glad to see me again, since I’m the only son you’ve got that’s worth a damn.” His sarcastic grin widened when Todd grunted threateningly in response to his remark. He paused to make sure Todd didn’t decide to make a move on him, before turning his attention back to his father. “I ain’t runnin’ from no lawman, I just thought it was time I paid you a visit.” He cocked an eye at Mae again. “And I figured my little wife must be pinin’ away, wonderin’ if I was ever comin’ home again.” He chuckled and commented, “Looks like she ain’t so little anymore, though. I swear, darlin’, you look like you ain’t strayed very far from the trough since I’ve been gone.” Her face, a fearful mask, Mae moved from behind Mica and stepped between him and Todd, clutching Todd’s arm for support. Her gesture brought a spark of awareness to Ansel’s eyes. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “You took up with Todd, didn’tcha?” he accused. “Well, I’ll be . . . How long did you wait before you jumped in the bed with him?”

  “You were gone two years before me and Todd got married,” Mae blurted.

  “Married?” Ansel laughed. “How the hell could you get married? You’re still married to me.”

  “No, she ain’t,” his father said. “They jumped over the broom together when I pronounced you dead. And that ain’t changed none, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Hah,” Ansel snorted, amused. “If that ain’t somethin’, but I reckon that’s the way things are supposed to be, Todd sniffin’ around to get my leavings, just like it always was. I don’t see no young ’uns runnin’ around, though, so I was right when I said she was barren. Ma knew it, too—where is Ma?”

  “Your mama died two years ago,” his father answered. “Mae’s the woman of this house now.”

  “Is that a fact?” Ansel responded, not really saddened by news of the passing of his mother. “Well, that’s good. That’s two of us that got out of this rat’s nest.” He fashioned a contemptuous smile for his father and said, “I forgot, you like to call this place a hornet’s nest.”

  “Damn you,” Mica roared, fed up now with his wayward son’s insolence. “I don’t know how you got the idea you could come back to this ranch anytime you please. Things have changed a helluva lot since you left here. You always had ideas too big for you to handle, so now that I’ve made somthin’ out of this ranch, I’ll be damned if you’re gonna move back in. I’ve got a crew of seventeen men workin’ this operation in the season, and eight this time of year. And that don’t include Todd, who’s my foreman. They’ve got orders to shoot trespassers on sight, and that’s what you are, a trespasser. I don’t know how you got in here in the first place, but I’m fixin’ to have Todd call up a few of the boys to escort your ass right back outta here.”

  “That was a fine speech,” Ansel declared, his smirk replaced by a dead-serious expression. “Now I’ll tell you how things are gonna be. In the first place, this damn ranch is the last place I’d wanna be stuck in. I don’t want any part of it. I need to be out of sight for a few days and that’s all. I’ve got money and I’ve got plans. I don’t need anything from you except two or three days. I coulda gone somewhere else, but I figure you owe me, since you’re my family, and you’ve got enough men to keep people from snoopin’ around.” He paused to let that sink in, then continued. “Now, that’s all I need from you, but I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen if I don’t get what I want. I’ll guarantee you, I’ll take down any of your men who come after me. And if it comes down to family, well, we’ll just have to see what happens. So how about it, old man? Let me have a bed and three meals a day for two or three days. I’ll pay you just like I would in a hotel. You don’t bother me and I won’t bother you, then when I leave, I won’t be comin’ back.”

  Mica thought about his proposal for a few seconds. He had no doubt that Ansel wasn’t bluffing. There would be killing, maybe even family members would be among the victims. He knew his son was capable of extreme violence, he seemed to thrive on it. “How do I know you’ve got money t
o pay room and board?”

  “Because I say I have,” Ansel came back. “Have we got a deal or not?”

  Both Todd and Mae were staring at the old man, shaking their heads vigorously, trying to influence his decision, while he thought it over. Finally, he gave in. “All right,” he said. “Dollar a day for the bed and seventy-five cents for the grub—three days, then you’re outta here forever.”

  “Good, we’ll call it a truce. You hate me and I hate you, but if we stay outta each other’s way, it’ll work all right. I just hope to hell Mae ain’t doin’ the cookin’. She couldn’t fry an egg without it lookin’ like a piece of shoe sole.” He cut his eyes over toward the mortified woman and grinned when she responded.

  “You go to hell,” Mae spat. Her obvious anger caused him to chuckle, which served to inflame her more. “Since you left, Todd and Papa have built the ranch up to where I don’t have to do the cookin’. We’ve got a cook to do that, and if you don’t like Lorena’s cookin’, you can take off again.”

  “You’ll not sit at my table with my family,” Mica stepped in. “You can eat when we eat, but you’ll eat in the kitchen.” He turned to address the cook when he noticed she was standing in the doorway listening to the argument. “You hear that, Lorena? He don’t eat with the family.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Beaudry,” Lorena replied. “No eat in dining room.” She turned her gaze back upon the strange man, thinking he didn’t look like his father or his brother. He more closely resembled a judge or a preacher, in her opinion. Back to Mica then, she announced, “Breakfast ready, you sit down now while it still hot.”

  “Good,” Ansel sang out before anyone else could respond. “I’ll find me a place in the kitchen.” He went into the kitchen right behind Lorena, carrying his rifle and saddlebags with him. Behind him the estranged members of his family were left behind, still confused over what had just taken place. A deal with the devil, no less, Todd and Mae decided as they took their usual places at the dining room table and waited for Lorena to bring the platters and bowls. The unassuming Mexican woman was in the process of doing that, but was delayed a few minutes by the menacing stranger. “I’ll set myself down right here at the end of this table,” Ansel told her. He took a plate from a stack on the table and placed it before him. “What’s that on the platter?” he asked. “Looks like pork chops.”

  “Sí, pork chops,” she replied.

  “Good, I ain’t had pork chops in I don’t know when. Here, bring that platter over here.” When she did as he said, he poked around in the chops with his fork until he decided on the best, then speared two of them for himself. “What’s that in the bowl?” When she replied that it was potatoes in that particular bowl, he spooned a sizable portion onto his plate with the chops. “That’s fine,” he said. “Take ’em on in to the dinin’ room, then you can run them other two bowls by me before you take them in.” When he was met with a mystified stare from her, he told her that this was to be the standard procedure as long as he was eating in her kitchen. “I’m payin’ for my food, so I expect I’d best get served first.” After she left to serve the others, he chuckled to himself when he heard the rapid discussion in subdued voices coming from the other room. It was too low, except for an occasional curse word, so he couldn’t make it out, but he could pretty well imagine what the discussion was about.

  When everyone was finished eating and Mae helped Lorena with the dishes, Ansel remained at his spot at one end of the kitchen table and drank coffee while he watched the women work. It didn’t take long before Mae left the kitchen, unnerved by the feeling of Ansel’s eyes upon her every move. In a few minutes, she returned with Ansel’s father right behind her. “I reckon you’ve finished up your breakfast by now, ain’t you?” Ansel smiled and nodded. His father went on. “Now, I reckon you need to take care of your horses and pack your gear where you’re gonna bunk. That will be in the bunkhouse with the rest of the hired hands, so you can be close to the barn and your horses.”

  Ansel’s smile returned. “Maybe so,” he drawled, “but I ain’t no hired hand. I think the proper thing for your returnin’ son would be to stay right here in the house, right back in my old room—lotta memories in that room, right, Mae? Course, if somebody else is sleepin’ in there, any other room that’s empty will do. I’m willin’ to be reasonable. I wouldn’t wanna put anybody out.” He had an idea that Todd and Mae were occupying his and Mae’s old room. It was confirmed by the expression of disgust on Mae’s face. She was about to express her disgust openly when Todd walked into the kitchen to see what was going on.

  “What’s all the talkin’ about?” Todd wanted to know, glaring at Ansel, still seated at the table. “What are you gonna do, sit in the kitchen all day? Maybe you’d be best suited to help Lorena in the kitchen.”

  “Might at that,” Ansel replied. “But right now we’re decidin’ if I move back in my old room, whether Mae wants to stay or move out. I think she’s still tryin’ to make up her mind.”

  “Why you low-down son of a bitch,” Todd blurted, and started toward Ansel.

  Ansel rose quickly to his feet. “Come on, little brother,” he taunted. “You deserve a good whippin’ for callin’ your poor dead mama a bitch.”

  Mica stepped between them before the fight could start. “By God, that’s enough,” he swore. “You’ll not set foot in my house again!” he railed at Ansel. “You decided six years ago that you ain’t no part of this family, so you get your ass out of here. The bunkhouse is half-empty now, so I’ll let you stay there for the time we agreed on. Then I want you off my land or I’ll shoot you myself.”

  “Whatever you say, Papa,” Ansel responded sarcastically. “I’ll go to the bunkhouse, if it’ll keep peace in the family.” He had never intended to stay in the house from the beginning. There was too great a possibility to get his throat cut while he was asleep, but he had been unable to resist tormenting them with the prospect. “I’ll still be takin’ my meals here in the kitchen, just like we agreed.” He picked up his rifle and saddlebags and walked out the back door.

  “We can’t let that devil hang around here, Papa,” Todd complained. “You know somebody’s bound to be chasin’ him, and it must be Rangers or somebody to make him scared enough to come back here.”

  His father thought that over for a few moments before expressing his thoughts. “I’m thinkin’ he mighta pulled off a big bank job and ran off with his and his partners’ share of the money. That’s what he’s totin’ in his saddlebags, I’ll bet, and that’s why he’s carryin’ ’em every step he takes, them and that rifle.” He nodded in agreement with his own theory. “I’d like to get a look inside those bags.”

  * * *

  “Who the hell is that?” Jim Brady asked Spot Morris when he looked up to see the stranger walking toward the barn, leading his horses. He had seen the two horses tied to a corner post of the front porch earlier that morning, but none of the men knew anything about them.

  Spot turned and stared in the direction of the house for only a few seconds before replying, “Well, I’ll be go to hell . . . Ansel.” When Brady still seemed puzzled, Spot said, “Ansel Beaudry, that’s the boss’s oldest son.”

  “His oldest son?” Brady questioned. “I didn’t think Boss had any son but Todd.”

  “I forgot, you ain’t been here as long as I have,” Spot said.

  “Ain’t none of us been here as long as you have,” Brady replied. “What I can’t understand is how come you’re still here. I believe you’re so good at keepin’ out of sight that Boss just forgot you’re on the payroll.” His attention back to the man walking toward them then, he asked, “How come we ain’t seen this fellow before? Ansel, was that his name?”

  “Boss run him off,” Spot replied. “It was five or six years ago. Ansel was always in some kinda trouble. I think Boss and Miss Esther was hopin’ Ansel would quit tryin’ to buck Boss on everythin’ when he married Mae.”

  “Married Mae?” Brady responded. “He was married to Mae?�
��

  “That’s a fact,” Spot replied. “Then Ansel killed Arthur Goodman, who owned Goodman’s Saloon in Fort Worth, in a fight over a whore and that brought the Texas Rangers out here lookin’ for him. Ansel got away before they got here, and for a while there, Boss would come down on you if you even mentioned Ansel’s name.” He paused then as Ansel approached within easy hearing distance, curious to hear the reason for Ansel’s reappearance after so many years. “Howdy, Ansel,” Spot called out. “Ain’t seen you in a coon’s age.” When Ansel looked surprised, Spot said, “Spot Morris, the cook. What brings you back home after all these years?”

  “Spot Morris,” Ansel echoed. “I remember you, but if you hadn’t said your name, I couldn’t have thought of it.” He did remember Spot, hired as bunkhouse and chuck wagon cook. “Didn’t remember you havin’ all those gray whiskers.” He took a moment to study the man Spot had been talking to, then asked, “Who’s this you’re talkin’ to?”

  “This here’s Jim Brady,” Spot answered. “He’s the top hand, the foreman for your papa’s ranch.”

  “I thought the old man said Todd was the foreman,” Ansel said.

  Spot cocked an eye at Brady before answering. “Well, that’s a fact, I reckon you could say Todd’s the official foreman, but Brady, here, is more like the workin’ foreman.”

  A knowing grin broke out on Ansel’s face. “So the old man lets Todd tell you what he wants done, and you have the men do it?” he asked Brady.

  “That’s about the size of it, Mr. Beaudry,” Brady replied. “If you don’t mind me askin’, are you comin’ back to take over runnin’ this outfit?” His question caused a quick reaction from Spot, who knew very well that Mica had ordered Ansel never to return.