Gabe looked at Cato. Rose had no idea what they might be thinking, but she was certain they didn’t mean to be around when the boys got back.
“You haven’t paid your taxes,” Gabe said.
“I just got home, but I’m sure my brothers have paid all the taxes required of them.”
“We’ll check on that when I get back.”
“If you don’t know whether we’ve paid our taxes, how much, and when, you’re not from the land office,” George stated flatly, “and you can ride out now.”
“We didn’t mean your back taxes,” Cato said. “We mean you ain’t paid for this year. We’re here to figure out what you owe and collect it.”
Rose knew the taxes weren’t due until the end of the year, but she doubted George did.
“Why don’t you get down and come into the kitchen,” George invited.
“We’d rather stay where we are,” Cato said.
Rose saw George’s expression harden. He knew these men were going to try to cheat him.
“Our records show you own about sixty thousand acres.”
“We own the ranch jointly.”
“You can’t do that. It has to be in one person’s name.”
“Yes, we can, and no it doesn’t.”
“We know the law—”
“So do I. What else do you want to know?”
The men looked a little disconcerted by George’s confidence. Rose guessed that none of them had bothered to read the laws they were talking about.
“The tax is two dollars for every hundred dollars of value. Now let me see. For sixty thousand acres that comes to…”
Rose gasped. They had quoted a hugely inflated rate. They must have heard about Jeff paying for their supplies with gold and come to see how much they could get out of George. She doubted any money would ever reach Austin.
“…I can’t figure that high without paper,” Cato said with what Rose thought was a greedy grin, “but it’s thousands, all payable in gold.”
“I don’t have that kind of money,” George said, “and certainly not in gold.”
He had lost color. From the enormity of the sum, Rose was sure.
“That’s not what we heard,” Cato said.
“It doesn’t matter what you heard,” George snapped, “I don’t have that much gold.”
“How much do you have?” Gabe asked.
“Not even a tithe of that.”
Rose could see they were disappointed.
“The tax has still got to be paid. And today.”
Rose noticed that the other men had gradually shifted their positions until they formed a wide circle around George. Too wide for him to keep them all covered. One of the men had his hand awfully close to his gun handle.
Rose gradually shifted the direction of her shotgun and tightened her finger on the trigger.
“If that’s the tax, we’ll pay it,” George said, his eyes never leaving Cato, his hand never leaving the rifle, “but you’ll have to wait until we can gather our cattle and make a sale.”
“We got orders to collect the money today,” Gabe said, reaching into his pocket and handing George a folded paper. “Look for yourself.”
Rose could tell from George’s expression that the directions were painfully clear.
George had only recently returned home. How could he know Texas law? She couldn’t allow him to be cheated. But would they believe her if she spoke up?
“If you ain’t got money, we got to have something of equal value.”
“I don’t have anything worth that much.”
“Maybe we’ll look around, just to make sure,” Cato said, “but that bull will make a start.”
Rose stiffened. Losing the bull would take the spine out of George’s plans for the ranch. She couldn’t let that happen.
“If you’ll just wait until we can sell some cattle, even some land…”
“That paper says we can’t wait,” Cato said, starting to dismount. “Now if you’ll just step aside…”
George’s rifle was pointing at Cato’s heart before his foot reached the ground.
“Nobody searches my house,” George said, “not today or any other. You’ll get your money, but you’ll have to wait.”
Cato paused in the uncomfortable position of one foot in the stirrup and one on the ground.
“Now look here, Mr. Randolph,” he said, “there’s no use getting riled. We got our orders. We can’t do nothing about that. You let us take what we have to. You can buy it back once you get your money.”
“Get back in that saddle.”
“Now why would I do that? There’s only one of you and six of us.”