The Long Trail (The McCabes Book 1) by Brad Dennison (books that read to you .txt) 📕

would be approaching from. The moon was now peeking over the horizon, and Josh knew within a short time, the meadow that stretched away across the valley would be alight with the sort of pale, eerie light the moon cast. And then, they would begin expecting the raiders.

There was one concern nagging at Josh. It was actually kind of obvious, and he did not know if Pa had overlooked it, or was just waiting to address it at a more opportune time. Yet, the concern continued to hammer at him – if Dusty didn’t create that lone set of tracks leading away from the ranch toward the mountains, then who did?

As the tossed this over in his mind, he saw a long, angular frame ambling toward the porch in the moonlight. “Fred,” he said.

“Hey, Josh. Is your Pa still awake?”

“He’s inside having a cup of coffee. Why?”

“Maybe it’s nothing. But..,”

“At a time like this, the nothing should be overlooked. What’s wrong?”

“It’s Long. You know, that cowpoke you hired after you fired Reno and the boys?”

“Yeah. What about him?”

“Well, he’s missing. I know your Pa told us to grab sleep while we can, but to keep our rifles close. But I couldn’t seem to fall asleep, and I wanted to see if any of the boys were still awake to maybe play a round of cards. I found his bunk empty. I looked around, and I can’t find him anywhere.”

Just maybe, Josh thought, he had found the answer to the question he was just thinking about. And boy did he feel like a fool.

Josh decided to conduct a quick search himself for Long, and he thought it might be a good idea not to do this alone. Especially if Long was one of the raiders, then he might be good with a gun. Not that Josh was necessarily reluctant to face a gunman on his own, as he had done well against Whitey, but he did not want to take a chance on getting shot and causing Pa to have to face the raiders one man down. Josh didn’t want to bother Pa with this, as Pa had enough on his mind. And whether he wanted to admit it or not, one of the best gunhands he had ever seen was upstairs in the guest room, which overlooked the ranch yard.

Josh needed to get Dusty’s attention without going into the house. He stepped down from the porch, and in the darkness, grasped along the earth in front of the hitching rail until he found a pebble large enough to travel, but small enough not to break a pane of glass, and let it fly toward the guest room window.

The window latch turned, and the window swung open.

“Dusty,” Josh called up. “Get down here. But make it seem like you’re just coming down on your own to get some air.”

A few minutes later, Dusty stepped onto the porch. His hat was missing, and his shirt tails were flying free, but his gun was belted about his hips. “What’s going on?”

Josh quickly explained. “I feel like such a goddamned fool. I was the one who hired him.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Dusty said. “We’re all goddamned fools more often than we’d like to admit.”

Josh allowed himself a small grin. “Thanks, but I seem to be playing the part a lot lately.”

“Let’s go check the stable. See if any of the saddles are missing.”

Josh, Dusty and Fred headed for the stable. Josh struck a match and lighted a lantern, lighting the windows regardless of caution, and they indeed found Long’s saddle missing.

“Y’know,” Dusty said, “this might be for the best. Now, they’ll know for certain how many armed men we have. It might discourage them.”

Josh said, “If he comes back, he’s gonna have to answer to me. And he ain’t going to like it.”

“He won’t be back,” Dusty said. “At least, not alone.”

After the cup of tea, Ginny had lied down in her room to see if sleep would take her, but it proved elusive. After a half hour, she gave up and went into the kitchen for maybe another cup of tea. She found Johnny sitting at the table. He had taken his pistols apart and was tamping a load into the sixth chamber of each cylinder. With one cylinder now completely loaded, he locked it in place, then with his finger hooking the trigger guard, twirled the pistol almost absently and slapped it into the holster at his right side. This had developed into a habit with him throughout the years – the easier you can juggle your pistols, he felt, the lighter and more natural they will seem in your hands. Your life can depend on that.

Ginny said, “Zack, Hunter, your brother Josiah, they all have said that you were the best they have ever seen with one of those things. I am grateful for your skills with a gun, because they have protected us more than once. But somehow, the way you carry them about, as naturally as though they are a part of your body, has always struck me as a little unnerving.”

Johnny nodded, locking the cylinder of his second pistol into place. “Lura used to say the same thing.”

“All the men out here walk about with those things strapped to their belts. Even Josh, now. It’s a necessary evil, I suppose.”

“We live on the frontier. About as close to living with nature as you can get. In nature, there are animals who will kill to eat, and others that will kill to protect themselves. A mountain lion will kill to eat, because it’s a predator. It knows no other way. An elk won’t kill to eat, because that’s not its way. But if a mountain lion tries to catch it, then it’ll use its antlers to protect itself. The antlers aren’t evil, they just help the elk to take its part in a cycle that has existed long before men arrived on the face of this earth.”

“I still think killing