Lone Star 28

Chapter 1

Jessie Starbuck was sleeping soundly in her bedroll, but she woke instantly to Ki’s urgent whisper.

Jessie! he breathed. Lie still! Don’t move a muscle!

Like everyone who has had frequent brushes with danger at the side of a trusted companion, Jessie obeyed the command. She did not even open her eyes, but her ears caught the tiny sounds of Ki’s slow, cautious movements.

Fully awake now, and aware of the faint predawn light that filtered through the lids of her closed eyes, Jessie understood that some kind of danger was threatening her. She did not waste time wondering about its source, though they were on what should have been the safest place in the world, the broad prairie range of the Circle Star Ranch.

Jessie felt a quick breath of disturbed air pass over her face. She heard a muted sound, the impact of steel on flesh. So close to her ear that she could feel the air stirring against her cheek, she heard the sharp, high-pitched whir, the angry warning signal of a rattlesnake ready to strike. The whirring lasted only a few seconds, then died away in a series of spaced-out clicks and a light scraping of the snake’s body on the hard, sunbaked earth. The rattles no longer buzzed in a sustained whir, but came in short, quick ticks lasting only a few seconds.

It’s all right now, Ki said, expelling his breath in a sigh of relief.

Opening her eyes, Jessie sat up. The rattler was writhing in its death throes only a hand-span from the spot where her head had been resting on the folded blankets of her bedroll. Its triangular head hung from its body by a thin thread of flesh, and its jaws still yawned wide, showing the tips of venom-laden fangs, as the muscles of its scaly diamond-patterned body spasmed in death. The snake was a big one, four feet or more long, its body larger around than Jessie’s forearm.

Thank you, Ki, Jessie said coolly. She nodded to indicate the gleaming, star-shaped shuriken lying on the ground a short distance beyond the snake. That was a nice throw, when I think of the tiny clearance you had between my head and the rattlesnake’s. I felt the wind as the blade passed my face.

I had about a half-inch, Ki told her. His voice was quite calm and level, but his almond eyes were serious as he gazed past Jessie at the snake. It was still thrashing around, although each move was less vigorous than the last. He went on, That’s less than I like. And I couldn’t move too much or too fast. The snake didn’t rattle before it got to you. It was coiling to strike before I heard it moving.

Sun, Jessie’s magnificent palomino stallion, was tethered only a few yards away. He had heard her voice and whick ered now, a snort of greeting to his mistress. Jessie called to him, speaking his name, and Sun grew quiet.

While they’d been talking, the morning sky had brightened and the pink flush of sunrise was touching the rim of the horizon to the east. Details of the sprawling prairie were becoming visible by now, the tan earth showing at the roots of the short clumps of grass, the hump of an occasional rise beginning to cast its shadow in the brightening day.

My stomach says it’s time for breakfast, Jessie told Ki. She pushed away her blankets and fished her boots from the folds at the bottom of the bedroll. By the time we get to the ranch, I’ll really be hungry.

Maybe we should’ve circled the arroyos last night and gone on to the main house, Ki said. He had already slipped out of his bedroll and pulled on his black, rope-soled slippers.

No, we did the right thing. Jessie stood up and stamped the hard ground to settle her boots on her feet. We’d have spent two hours going around. That would’ve been too much after such a long day in the saddle, and I wasn’t about to risk Sun breaking a leg in the arroyos.

Ki walked past her to the rattler, which was now quiet except for an occasional twitching quiver, and picked up his shuriken. He wiped the thin steel blade clean on a tuft of grass and restored it to the vest pocket in which he carried the silent-striking weapons.

Do you have anything planned for us to do, after the market herd starts to the railroad? he asked. He dropped to his knees on the hard ground and began rolling up his blankets.

Jessie had already finished her bedroll. She said, Not a thing. I’m so far behind in my desk work that I’ve got a full week to catch up on. And I’m only going to take care of any mail that’s really important. Then I’m going to have a few lazy days just riding Sun around the ranch and resting.

Alex always put off his desk work, Ki remarked as he tied the last string around his neat bedroll. And the Circle Star always came first when he was here, just as it does with you.

Jessie nodded as she and Ki began walking toward the horses. I know. And he always rode a final inspection trip over the entire ranch after the hands finished the gathers. He said only the owner of a spread could see what even the best foreman might miss. But we didn’t find a thing wrong, this time.

Alex Starbuck, Jessie’s father, had created the vast Circle Star Ranch, which sprawled over most of three Southwest Texas counties in a spread bigger than some small European countries. Of all the properties Jessie had inherited from him, the ranch held first place in her heart, just as it had in Alex’s. Though Jessie held the controlling strings of the vast business and industrial empire that Alex had woven together, the Circle Star was more than just a ranch to her. As it had been to Alex, it was home.

Approaching the two miles of arroyo-cut range that stretched ahead of them, Jessie took off her hat and hung it by its chin strap on her saddlehorn. They would be going slowly through the rough country, and would raise no dust; she enjoyed letting the morning breeze stream through her long hair, the hue of tawny gold, with just a shade more of copper than Sun’s blond mane.

I’m glad we didn’t try to cross this in the dark, she told Ki as their horses slowed on reaching the first steep ridge. I’ve thought about getting the hands to level it, working just a little at a time when they don’t have anything else to do, but I hate to change anything on the Circle Star.

Ki smiled. Yes. Your father said the same thing a dozen times about places on the ranch that are too rough and bare for the steers to graze on.

Jessie started to reply, then her full red lips tightened into a narrow line, and Ki realized belatedly that he’d reminded her of the rough section at the northeast comer of the ranch where Alex had died in an ambush, under a hail of lead from the cartel’s hired assassins.

Jessie had stayed away from the Circle Star for more than a year following Alex’s murder. The Circle Star had not seemed the same without him, so she’d thrown her energies into learning the details of the other Starbuck properties.

She and Ki had traveled constantly, visiting the Starbuck mines and timberlands in the Great Lakes region as well as those in the Pacific Northwest, the offices of Starbuck banks in California and New York, Pittsburgh, and Boston. Because no man of Alex’s stature in the world of commerce could escape involvement with politics, she had spent some time in Washington, where President Hayes and his wife had invited her to dinner in the White House.

To acquaint herself with other companies in which Alex had substantial investments, she’d spent hours in the central offices of railroads and brokerage houses in the East. On the West Coast, she’d learned about the shipping line to the Orient and the import-export business that had been Alex’s first large venture, financed by his success in the Oriental import store in San Francisco, where he’d made his start.

No matter where she’d traveled, Ki had been with her, tied by invisible strings of the loyalty he’d given Alex for having taken him in as a youth, when Ki had been driven from his own home by the stubborn prejudice of his Japanese family, which resented his half-Japanese, half-American parentage. As he’d been like a son to Alex, Ki was like a brother to Jessie. He’d been at her side during her battles with the vicious agents of the cartel, protecting her with his mastery of the Oriental martial arts that he’d learned from the master warrior, Hirata.

Jessie had inherited more than an industrial empire after Alex Starbuck’s murder. She had picked up the fight Alex had begun, thwarting the cartel’s efforts to rob the United States of its industrial strength and its vast natural resources. It was a lonely fight for the most part, though fought on many fields.

Thoughts of the cartel were far from Jessie’s mind as she and Ki let the horses pick their own path through the arroyo-cut stretch that lay between them and the Circle Star headquarters. They rode in a companionable silence that needed no words, until the rough country was behind them and they could see the main house and bunkhouse and out-buildings ahead.

It looks like Ed has the herd shaped up, Jessie said, pointing to the mass of steers that filled the range at a short distance from the buildings. The shifting herd’s shining horns caught the sunlight as the hands rode along its sides, bunching the cattle to start them moving toward the railroad spur, a long day’s drive from the ranch. She went on, I hope we haven’t delayed Ed’s departure by being late.

It’s not all that late, Ki said. But here comes Ed to meet us, so we’ll soon find out.

Ed Wright, looking tall and rangy even in the saddle, got to Jessie and Ki and reined in to match their pace.

I hope you haven’t been waiting for us to start, Ed, Jessie said as they let their horses set an easy walking pace toward the ranch buildings. We stopped on the other side of the arroyos last night. Neither Ki nor I felt like crossing them in the dark.

Wright shook his head. I was just sorta holding back till you and Ki got here, Jessie. Didn’t know whether you wanted to ride to the spur with us or not.

I’ll think I’ll pass, this time, she replied. But Ki might want to go along.

If you need me, I’ll be glad to give you a hand, Ed, Ki said quickly. If you don‘t, I’ll stay here.

Oh, me and the boys can take care of the size herd we got, Ki Wright answered.

Can you make it in a day, starting so late? Jessie asked.

Not and load out too, Jessie, the foreman said. But we couldn‘t’ve loaded all the cars today anyways, no matter when we started.

Will you take Gimpy with you, then? Ki asked. You’ll need a couple of meals if you’re not loading out until tomorrow.

Oh, we’ll do fine, Ki, Wright replied. Gimpy’s loaded up our saddlebags with sandwiches and cold truck, plenty to hold us till we get back. Besides, I’d as soon hold the critters at the spur tonight so’s they’ll be fresh for the train ride.

You’re sure the cattle cars got here? Jessie asked.

Setting on the siding, Wright nodded. I sent Speedy up there yesterday to check up.

You won’t be back until late tomorrow, then, Jessie said. Or will you be going all the way into San Antonio with the herd?

Not this year. I’ll turn things over to Perk. He’s a good enough segundo by now to be able to handle the job.

Jessie nodded. Of course he is. And you’ve made the trip so often, I don’t imagine it’s much fun any more, even to get to see the bright lights.

Now, you know right well I’ve had my fill of the Vaudeville Theatre and places like that, Jessie, Wright said as they reached the ranch house and reined in. I’ll be glad enough just to get the herd in the cattle cars and turn around and ride back home.

Well, I hope you don’t bring a lot of mail back with you, Jessie said. I’m sure there’s enough waiting for me now.

More’n enough, I imagine. Speedy brought back a whole big bunch that he picked up when he went to check on the cars.

Then you might as well move them out, Ed, Jessie said.

With a nod, Wright toed his horse into motion and started toward the herd. Jessie and Ki dismounted and wrapped their reins around the hitch rail at the side of the main house. Jessie looked over her shoulder toward the bunkhouse and dining hall.

I think we’d better take our chances on a bunkhouse breakfast, she said. I don’t feel like waiting as long as it’d take for the stove in the big house kitchen to heat up.

That suits me fine, Ki told her. If there aren’t enough leftovers to feed us, it won’t take any time for Gimpy to stir up a mess of flapjacks.

Let’s go, then, Jessie said. If I have to wait much longer, I’ll be so hungry I’ll start eating one of my boots.

Gimpy, whose full name was Thomas Jefferson Jones, though no one ever called him by it, was standing beside the big kitchen range with a cup of coffee in his hand when Jessie and Ki walked into the dining hall. He was a big man, his face showing signs that it had been very badly battered, either in one big brawl or a succession of smaller ones. He stood with his body at an angle because of the lame leg that had earned him his nickname.

Morning, Miss Jessie, Ki, he said. I sorta had me a hunch you two might be coming in, so I held back a little bit of batter to cook you up a batch of flapjacks.

I’m glad you’re a mind-reader, Jessie told him after she and Ki returned his greeting, because I can’t remember when I’ve ever been hungrier.

Well, set right down, he invited. And I’ll have some grub in front of you before you get so weak you fall over.

Neither Jessie nor Ki wasted much time in conversation while they ate breakfast. Their hunger satisfied, they walked back to the main house. Evidently one of the two cowhands remaining at the ranch to take care of the daily routine chores had taken Sun as well as Ki’s horse to the stable, for both animals were gone, the saddlebags Ki and Jessie had used during their checkup tour hung on the hitch rail. Ki lifted the bags and threw them over his shoulder.

I’ll take care of these, he said. I know you’re anxious to get to that stack of mail you’ve got waiting for you inside.

Jessie went at once to the big square room that had been Alex’s study. Of all the rooms in the sprawling ranch house, it was the one she liked the best. In contrast to the the big rectangular living room, the study seemed almost cozy. A massive fireplace of slate-gray fieldstone dominated the pine-paneled room. Above the mantel hung an almost life-size oil painting of the mother Jessie had lost as a little girl. The wall opposite the fireplace was lined with bookshelves, crammed full of well-thumbed books. On the outer wall between two broad windows stood a small baseburner, with isinglass set in the pierced grille of its door.

All the furniture was scaled to the room’s generous dimensions. A long, leather-upholstered divan stood at an angle that would receive heat from both the foreplace and the stove on a chilly winter day, and a smaller sofa, also covered in leather, faced it near the room’s center.

The furnishings were completed by two leather-upholstered armchairs that would each hold two persons comfortably, and the scarred old rolltop oak desk that had been the first piece of furniture Alex had bought when he began his first store in San Francisco. There were, of course, small tables placed near the sofas and chairs, holding coal-oil lamps that at night