Rose(135)
“Half is enough for me.”
“What about the McClendons? Maybe they think stealing gold would be easier than stealing cattle.”
The younger McClendons, muttering curses, showed signs of wanting to charge the hidden voices.
“Don’t get riled,” the old man ordered his sons. “They can shoot you out of your saddle before you get ten yards.”
“If I did have this gold, I’d rather turn it over to the army than you,” George said. “At least I could sleep easy in my bed.”
“There’s no need to feel uneasy,” Silas assured him. “There’s six of you and there’s six of us. Half seems fair. It’ll give us all something to start over with.”
“Silas, I don’t have any gold. I never had any. If I did have it, I’d turn it over to the army.”
“I told you there weren’t no gold,” one of the boys hissed.
“He’s just trying to make you think he ain’t got it,” another said. “Them Randolphs is slick as muskrats.”
“You boys hush,” the old man ordered. “I ain’t believing nobody, not until I see for myself.”
“It would save a lot of trouble if you would just give us the gold,” Silas called. “We won’t bother your wife or your little brother. We’ll just ride out of here and you’ll never see us again.”
“For the last time, I don’t have any gold, and I don’t know anything about it. Second, if I did have the gold, I don’t believe you’d ride out and leave half of it here. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you had it all. Not when the McClendons are too lazy to work cattle in a country where cattle practically take care of themselves. Men who’ll steal cows won’t walk away from gold.”
“You’re making a big mistake.”
“No, you are. You’re taking a chance on getting killed for something that doesn’t exist. Now I’m tired of talking. Turn around and start back toward the creek.”
“We’ll be back,” old man McClendon said.
“I figured you would,” George said, “but when you do, know I mean to kill as many of you as I can.”
“There’s more than forty of us,” the old man said. “There’s only one of you.”
“There’s only one of you, too,” George replied, “And I mean to get you first. Cut off the head of a snake, and the body dies. You’re the head, McClendon. You’re the evil which infests your family.”
“I’ll kill you, Randolph,” McClendon shouted. “I’ll kill you and every one of your kin.”
“A few hundred thousand Yankees tried and failed. I figure any one of them was a better man than you.”
George put a bullet into the ground in front of McClen-don’s horse. The animal reared in fright, throwing the old man, then galloped off into the night.
“Now get out of here.”
McClendon hobbled after his retreating party.
“You think they’ll come today?”
Rose had taken George his dinner out in the brush overlooking the trail. He had decided the middle of the afternoon was the safest time to eat.
“I expect they’ll come tonight. They’ve got to capture us alive. They need me to tell them where the gold is, and they need you and Zac to force me to do it.”
“I tried to tell Silas there wasn’t any gold,” Rose said.
“Once people get it in their heads there’s a fortune to be had just for the taking, they won’t believe it doesn’t exist, no matter what you tell them. That would mean they would have to give up hope, and people will do just about anything to keep hope alive.”
“Well, you can tell Silas and that evil old man I have hopes, too, and I don’t mean to give them up.”
“And just what are they?”
George motioned for Rose to sit down next to him. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the trail, but he liked having her close. Rose obliged by settling herself next to him while he ate his dinner.
“I dream of living here for the rest of my life. Of years and years of seeing you ride up to the house ready for your dinner, of seeing your sons riding all around you—”
“We’ve been over that already.”
“This is my dream,” Rose reminded him. “I’ll dream what I like.”
“Okay,” George said, going back to his food. “What else?”
“I dream of girls, too. There are too many men around this place. You need a few daughters. They would make you feel like a new man.”
George grunted. Rose doubted it was in agreement.
“I dream of evenings when we sit on the porch and watch the sun go down, of winter nights spent before the fire, of summer days spent picking wild plums or having a picnic in a pecan grove. I also dream of seeing all your brothers here with their wives and children.”