“Buck said it was Ty Parnell and that he had men with him, but he didn’t say how many. They made him and Farley run and shot them in the back.”
Angry murmurs came from Lane’s men.
Lane didn’t hide his reaction. “In the old days we’d’ve hunted the bastards down and strung them up.”
One of Lane’s riders said, “Still might. Those two never hurt a fly.”
“Does Rhine know?”
Kent answered the question. “Sent Portia to tell him, and to let the sheriff know.”
Lane added, “One of my men is driving a wagon that should be here shortly. When we saw the smoke we weren’t sure what Farley and Buck would need so we piled it up. We’ll use it to take the bodies to the undertaker in Tucson.”
“They have family?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then I’m sure Rhine will want to pay for the funeral.”
“I’ll contribute, too. Known them a long time. Should’ve died of old age in their beds like Blanchard. Not cut down with no dignity. What’s Parnell’s beef?”
Kent told him what he thought to be Parnell’s motive. “When Rhine introduced me as the new foreman, Parnell said Mr.Blanchard had promised him the job. Rhine told him his mind was made up, so Parnell spit tobacco juice at Rhine’s boots. I had to teach some manners, then made him pack up and leave.”
“He always did think he was the biggest bull in the pen. Can’t believe Blanchard made him any promises to be foreman. In fact, the old man was planning to let him go. Hadn’t cared for his attitude or his bullying the others into doing his share of the work.”
Kent turned to Matt and received a terse nod of agreement.
Lane continued, “If the sheriff needs men for a posse, he won’t have any problem finding volunteers, myself included. Farley and Buck were well liked.”
Kent would be volunteering as well. “Parnell wouldn’t be stupid enough to still be around would he?”
“Maybe. Especially if he doesn’t know Buck lived long enough to point a finger his way.”
The wagon arrived a few minutes later. The bed was filled with tin buckets, shovels, and other items needed to put down the fire. Once it was unloaded, the bodies were carefully laid in and a tarp placed over them. As the wagon drove away, Lane said, “May they rest in peace. But I won’t be at peace until Parnell and the others swing from the end of a rope.”
Watching the wagon bump along the track and disappear from sight, Kent agreed.
Kent and Lane’s men set up a line and used buckets of water from the pond to douse the last of the embers, then with bandanas tied over their noses and mouths to keep from breathing in the smoke, they used shovels, hoes, and pickaxes to turn over the debris to make sure no hot spots remained. Once they were finished he thanked Lane and his men.
“We’ll keep an eye out for your cows,” Lane promised as he and his men mounted up. “I’ll pass the word on to the other ranches as well.”
“Thanks.”
Lane nodded. “And if Parnell and the other killers are still in the territory, we’ll find them.”
On the ride back to the hotel, Portia chafed under the slow pace. She wanted to kick Arizona into a full gallop for home so Rhine would know what had happened, but the inexperienced riders under her escort made that impossible. She’d considered taking Luz up with her and sending Cal on ahead but if their party ran into trouble she’d need his gun. The guests came to Arizona to experience the Wild West and had gotten more than anyone could have imagined. She glanced back. Both Ada and the widow looked shaken. Phillip was staring ahead as if still seeing the bodies. When she met Winston’s eyes he asked solemnly, “You knew those men well?”
“Since I was young.”
“My condolences on your loss.”
“Thank you.” In the past week, she’d lost three dear friends and her heart ached.
“I have to say, when you first yelled that the ranch house was on fire, I thought it was an act—something staged for our benefit. But then...” His words faded.
“No, it wasn’t an act.”
“What will happen next?”