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- 09/21/2020
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Sidewinder - 2. Chapter 2 Fool's Gold
One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.
*****
Fool's Gold
Daylight's arrival found Boone wide awake. He hadn’t slept much at all, and the hard floor wasn’t the only reason for it. His stubborn mind had refused to empty, all caught up in the decision he didn’t want to make. Listening to steady breathing from the bed above, he thought more on what he was going to do with his life now that Will could no longer lead his brother astray.
He didn’t have to concern himself as much with his friend getting beat up, robbed, or shot dead—but there’d been safety in having each other’s back. Boone would surely fret once he left, unless Coy smartened up and took his own trail out of Red Bluff.
Two different times, men had come looking for Will while he was alive, angry men looking to settle scores. For Coy’s sake, and the man’s too, he’d drawn his gun on one of them as a way to convince him he couldn’t stick around and wait. Will was hiding somewhere close at the time, having spotted the rider coming, and Boone didn’t put nothing past him.
To this very day, Boone had no idea what happened to either of them after they left the camp in search of their target, but he did know Will had tried and failed to convince his brother to help him ambush one of them. Boone had his suspicions he’d figured out a different way to do the deed—seeing as how he never saw either man again.
Coy had always showed a confusing need to believe his brother wasn’t bad. As clever as he was, he’d let that sidewinder control him… especially when Boone wasn’t close by. Will, for sure, had hated him, and even warned him to never touch his brother, but Boone was no slouch with a gun, faster than Will by far, and the man had been wary of that fact.
He’d threatened him, though, and called him things like sinful, unnatural… even immoral, but it never carried weight with Boone. Might be he was those things in others’ eyes, but he’d rather be hisself than a cold-hearted killer like Will Diamond had been.
Panning for gold, in an area other miners had given up on and moved on from, had worn Boone down. There’d never been much gold in these parts to begin with—just enough washing down river to keep fools hoping—and it hadn’t taken more than a few months to figure it out. But, he’d stayed because his friend needed him, and for the longest time, he couldn’t imagine being somewhere Coy wasn’t.
Sure, they’d found enough to cash in and keep their stake going, and they’d even managed to save their own little pile of gold, but they were never going to get rich. Boone could have made just as much working cattle for some big outfit and he wouldn’t have had to put up with wrinkly, waterlogged hands, wet feet, and ripped fingertips most every day. They’d been at it almost two years, and he was done. He’d never liked it in the first place, but at least they would each have enough to get a leg up on a new start somewhere else.
Coy had held onto dreams of a big strike, and they did have some good days where they could crow a little, but much of his share of the gold they’d eked out had gone to Will. The man never bought any supplies, and he’d bailed him out of jail too many times to count.
Nasty snake that he was when he was liquored up, Will usually ended up behind bars after causing damages of one sort or another. Mostly it was just tables or chairs, or windows, but once he’d shot a man’s horse dead just because he’d lost at cards. That had cost Coy seventy dollars, money he’d never gotten back from his brother.
Sighing, he sat up. Coy was on his back with his head turned towards him. Boone never felt guilty for staring at him when he was sleeping. He was prettier than any woman or horse he’d ever seen—and handsomer than any man he’d laid eyes on—and it was his only chance to look at him and not hide his feelings. He didn’t pine for him like he used to because he’d finally figured out it was never going to happen. He wanted someone made like he was, but that didn’t change the fact he loved the man deep as any well.
For near five years he’d loved him, and so many times he’d thought Coy might care more than he let on… but Boone had got it wrong… terrible wrong. Yep, it was past time to move on. He wasn’t sure he had enough gold stashed to buy any land outright, but he’d heard the government would accept payments over time, and there was only one way to find out the truth of it.
Some men had been talking at the general store a few weeks back when he was waiting for his supply order to be filled, and they’d mentioned cheap land available about four full weeks' ride to the northeast, up in higher country. It was too far north of the railway line to be valuable to most, and too hilly and wooded to be good for running herds of cattle, but one fella said there was lots and lots of water and the land was fertile enough if you were willing to clear it.
He’d engaged in friendly conversation with the men, and learned game too was plentiful, and Indians were no longer a big threat thereabouts. The man doing most of the talking had a brother-in-law who’d purchased sixty acres there and he was doing well enough to support his family… so he was considering joining him before prices went up. Apparently, the government kept raising the cost of land. It wasn’t the first time Boone had heard that, and it spurred him on.
So the information had been playing on his mind ever since. He’d also learned there was an official land agent in a town called Larkspur who dealt with the sale of the available properties. The only other thing he knew about the place was it had a bank. Must be a good-sized town if there was one of those.
It wouldn’t be an easy life, and if he did it, it would have to be soon so he could build a cabin before winter—but it would be a good one for a young man with a strong back and a strong will who’d never had a home of his own. Boone’s ma, a dancehall girl, had died of fever before his tenth birthday, and he’d fended for himself ever since.
It hadn’t been all that different from when his ma was alive—she had a good heart and he knew she’d loved him, but she weren’t real motherly. She worked every day of her life giving any man with a little money exactly what they wanted. That left no time for him, but he was fortunate the other ladies had taken a liking to him as a young’un.
He didn’t know who his father was, and his ma never said it, but he suspected she hadn’t known either. He’d asked her once if his pa had yellow hair and green eyes same as his since he looked nothing like her, but she’d just looked confused for a spell, and never did answer him.
Quietly he got up and pulled his boots on, staring out the window as he did. The small town was beginning to come alive, with a couple of hitched wagons already in the street. The doors to the livery were open, and so were the Mercantile’s.
It wasn’t full on daylight yet but it was close, and it promised to be another hot one. He didn’t care much for this town—it was always dusty and usually noisy, especially when the train arrived. He imagined living in a quieter place in higher elevation that saw snow in the winter months… a place where you weren’t always chewing grit. This Larkspur area sounded like heaven.
His gaze settled on the spot in the street where his friend Dan had lain, still alive enough to shoot Will as he turned his back on him. Bloody fool deserved to go that way after what he’d done. Boone had arrived only minutes after Wes’s son had taken his last breath.
Dan was made like him, and he hadn’t been shy about telling Boone what he wanted after they’d known each other a short time. Boone wasn’t surprised because he’d felt the heated looks the minute the man arrived back in camp… the place he’d pretty much grown up in. They’d been talking about Dan’s pa and Lee at the time, and how they’d managed to stay together for more than twenty years, being parents to him since he was about four.
If only he’d taken him up on his offer to start a life together somewhere else, they’d have been long gone from here and a good man would still be alive. He could have learned to love Dan in time, but the trouble was he couldn’t leave Coy to the life Will had planned for him.
Now, though, things had changed and he could go his own way. There might still be trouble from people Will had messed with, but Coy was smart, and the resemblance to his brother was slight. Anyways, he had to stop worrying about him. Boone hoped he would move on too, but he was a grown man who had to make his own decisions.
“Where you going?”
Boone turned from the window. “Just put my boots on and was about to rouse you. Time to head back to camp… make some breakfast, and I expect you could use some strong coffee. The livery might charge us more money for leaving the horses overnight.”
Coy stretched and blinked a few times as he stared at Boone. “Sorry.”
“For what?” he asked as he strapped his holster on.
“For getting skunk drunk.”
“Not the first time you did that and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
“No, I guess not, but it’s not like I make a habit of it.” He swung his feet to the floor before grabbing his head. “A man never learns, does he?”
“Some do. Some don’t.”
Coy met his gaze speculatively. “What you said about Will… you sure?”
“You already asked me that. Told you the truth. We can head up to the ridge when we get back and you can see for yourself.”
Coy mumbled something as he reached down to the floor for his boots.
“What did you say?”
“I said it’s hard to believe he would shoot Wes and Lee.”
“For serious?” Boone asked with sudden disgust, and that got him a shamed look.
“No… I do believe it… I know how he….”
“How he what?”
Coy hung his head. “He had a lot of hate in him for sure, and I know he had no trouble taking what didn't belong to him… but why couldn’t he just let them be?”
“Because he was a killer. I know you don’t want to hear it, but some men take a liking to it. They enjoy seeing the life leave a man’s body, and your brother never cared about anything or anyone but hisself.”
“He cared about me,” Coy insisted meekly.
“Maybe so, but from what I saw he more wanted another gun at his side. He was always trying to drag you into trouble, like when he wanted you to wait in a gulley with your gun drawn while he lured that fellow looking to challenge him. Will knew he was a faster draw and he was too much of a coward to face him like a man.”
“But I didn’t.”
“No, and that yellow belly had the gall to call you a coward!”
“He said brothers should back each other up.”
“In some cases for sure they should, but not when we’re talking about killing a man unawares. Wrong is wrong.” He sighed loudly. “Would you have wanted that on your conscience?”
“No, of course not! I’m no killer.”
“I know that and so did Will, but it meant nothing to him. Remember his plan to rob that bank?”
“I remember… but he didn’t do it.”
“He would have if you’d gone along with it, and you can bet he would have robbed a bank sooner or later. You might not like me saying this, but Will deserved to die, and you can be mad at me if’n you want, but he don’t deserve no kind words.”
“You hated him.”
“Yep, I did, and I admitted to that, but mostly I had hate for him because I cared about you. I was wise to him and it’s time you were too. Face it, with all the trouble he got up to, you’re lucky to have reached the ripe old age of twenty-one. Do you get that?”
Coy nodded as he rose and lifted his holster off the bedpost, strapping it on with his head down.
“Good… I hope you do. You’re a decent man, a good man for sure, and now you can stop worrying about trying to please Will. You can live your life without looking over your shoulder. I know that’s what I’m going to do.”
Coy nodded again, meeting Boone’s gaze once more, with an uncertain expression on his unshaved face. “You still care about me?”
“Course I do.”
“No, I mean like what Will said about—”
“I’m not going to talk about that again, you understand? We already had the conversation… now, are you ready?
Coy blew out a long breath, his disappointment clear. “You seem in an awful hurry, but I reckon I’m ready.”
“Don’t forget your hat.”
Heading past the last few buildings, Boone began to relax. When trouble happened, it was usually in towns. Out at camp you could at least see riders approach—not so in a lively place like Red Bluff where it could be around any corner. He’d learned to be as cautious as a chased wolf from years of being around Will, and supposed it would stick with him no matter where he went.
He’d met Coy on a cattle drive, the second one for both of them. They were the same age, sixteen, but growed enough and strong enough to handle the hard work, and it was only natural they would attach to each other given all the other hands were much older. It hadn’t taken long to grow close, and it seemed right to follow him once the job ended.
Coy had struck out on his own a year before they'd met, having no interest in a small family farm what barely supported itself, but was now returning home after getting a letter from his mother. She’d fallen ill and was badly in need of help. Her life had been a tough one, losing her husband and Coy’s younger brother to the same sickness, and then the twins, the oldest of the brothers, who’d both drowned in an unexpected flash flood. Coy’s uncle, her brother, had taken over and eked out a living on the farm for years, but had up and dropped dead while hauling water to the cows.
Suddenly alone, she desperately needed someone to care for her and the farm. Coy was distressed when he got the letter, and Boone wanted to help, but when they arrived two weeks later, it didn’t take but a few days to see the dirt was no good and the pasture poor and parched because the land was dry. Even so, for the first six months he enjoyed farming with Coy, despite working sunup to sundown… but then Will had shown up.
Maysie Diamond was frail but she was a force too, and she’d taken a liking to Boone from the get go. Will had set about to change that. He was a perceptive man, always watchful, and soon figured out his strong feelings for Coy. It hadn’t taken Boone long either, to figure out Will was pure trouble and if left unchallenged, would take his only remaining brother down a bad path.
He could count the days the man had put in a full day’s work. There wasn’t a lick of interest in the farm other than three square meals and a place to hide out… no, his main interest had become getting rid of Boone.
By the time Maysie passed, a little more than a year later, she was no longer supportive of his friendship with Coy. She was still kind, but there was no missing the change in her words for him, or her occasional sermons to her son on the sins of the flesh, and how the Lord wanted him to have a good woman in his life… one to keep him from the influences of the devil.
Further, towards the end he was no longer welcome to share Coy’s room, Maysie insisting he bunk in the twin’s old bedroom alongside Will, with no explanation for it. Boone, knowing full well the reason, chose to move out to the barn.
“Did you see how Sheriff Willard was staring at us… at me, when we rode by his office?”
Coy’s question tore Boone from his memories. “He stares at everyone.”
“Yeah, but this was different.”
“Maybe so. You know he does suspect Will for those murders, so I’ll bet he’s wondering if we know anything.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Coy rode up closer to Boone. “You think he’s going to try to pin them on us?”
Boone stared into the concerned face, seeing his friend’s fear. “No… no I don’t, but he’s a smart man. Like I said, he’s thinking we might know something, and for sure we do, so I reckon we should consider telling him the truth.”
“What? Are you loco? You want to tell him Will did it, now that he’s dead?”
“I’m thinking on it.”
“But—”
“Coy, you think on it too and then we’ll talk. Can you do that?”
“I don’t know, Boone.”
“I’m just asking you to think a spell.”
Coy sighed and stared straight ahead. “I need to take down his tent.”
“I’ll help you when we get back.”
“No need. I’ll do it.”
“Fine and dandy. I’ll leave you be.”
“You could take down Wes and Lee’s, though. I reckon it’s time.”
“Suppose it is. And Dan’s.”
“Yep, his too,” Coy muttered before dropping back behind him. Other than the sound of the horses’ footfalls and the creak of worn leather needing oiling, the rest of the ride was in silence.
*
Thanks, as always to Timothy M., my editor.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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