Chapter 2

I wanted to punch that cocky, motherfucker right in his two-timing mouth. Every instinct of my being screamed for revenge, for justice, to right the wrongs shown to me and mine. I could almost feel my knuckles swell and taste his splattered blood on my lips as I fantasized of pummelling him over and over again in a deservedly mad rage. You have no idea how badly I wanted to beat the living shit out of that self-righteous asshole.

But I didn’t.

Instead I stood there and listened to Dolan bemoan the unfortunate circumstances that led to my dire circumstances while he offered his unconditional support for my family’s wellbeing. I couldn’t believe how easily he lied straight to my face without a trace of remorse for his evil transgressions.

It made my skin crawl. But what could I do?

Sure I could jump him, right here and now. He wouldn’t expect it so I might get in two or three really good punches before his goon squad got to me, but they would get to me and I’d be greatly outnumbered and outmatched when they did.

I’d be at their mercy, but they wouldn’t show me kindness. Instead I’d be beaten within an inch of my life as they took turns kicking me over and over again before tying me to a horse and dragging me throughout town in a bloodied state until the beast finally tired and maybe, just maybe, they’d let me go. But more than likely they’d continue with their tirade by cutting off something of mine as a reminder to everyone that Dolan is never to be crossed.

How do I know this? Simple, I’d seen and heard of Dolan doing this and much worse to his friends and enemies alike. He’s a despicable asshole who holds onto power by being the most ruthless son of a bitch possible.

But even knowing all this, it still might be worth the personal pain just to see the fear and dread in his eyes as he looks up at me while I’m putting him on his fucking ass. Oh that would be sweet, but unfortunately I’m not a lone wolf and my deeds would affect others around me.

Dolan wouldn’t stop at humiliating me in this horrific fashion, my brothers would also pay for my transgressions with a beating of their own. They’d suffer greatly at his hand, losing all their possessions and finding themselves totally unemployable throughout the entire region.

Would that satisfy Dolan’s lust for revenge?

Perhaps, but it’s entirely possible he’d go further still and sick his perverted troop on my wife and you know they wouldn’t just smack her around a little. No, they’d go way too far and she’d be raped and scarred in every way possible. I may not love her, but even I couldn’t put her through that anguish simply to satisfy my own petty pride.

It wasn’t worth it.

Dolan’s an asshole and I was under his thumb once more. He had me by the balls and I had to play along. Unfortunately he’s my boss again and these were his rules. Obey or be punished. I could break them, but I’d pay dearly for my insubordination. So with all that in mind I stood there, like a pathetic shithead, nodding and thanking James Dolan for hiring me back as a Trail Boss.

But I did offer myself some solace, thinking that some day, somehow, I’d make him pay for his treachery. That would be a sweet day. And, speaking of the bright side, he did agree to my usual rate of pay and informed me that my brothers would be along for the six week drive.

So it wasn’t all bad.

My brothers and I had been working together for so long that a simple nod or a raised eyebrow spoke more than fifty words ever could. I hated droving cattle without them.

I dwelt on this as I packed my horse and rode the cow trail for hours seeking the starting point of our long journey. I couldn’t believe I was back under Dolan’s employ and hated the thought, but this happened to be my lot in life so what could be done?

Of course, I could moan and feel sorry for myself but that would get me nowhere. Self loathing and self pity weren’t healthy, I learned that the hard way. Instead I decided to somehow make the best of these shitty circumstances, impossible as it seemed at the time. But I had to try or risk a downward spiral.

First I’d get these goddamned cattle to the station as fast as humanly possible so that I could get paid. Then I’d use those earnings to get out of this shit farm deal and, once free from all that, I’d move far away from Lincoln County and start over again as something better.

Anything else would do just fine.

I heard rumours gold was being found up north. Maybe I’d move there and try my hand at panning. Just the thought of it filled me with hope so I decided to dwell on that as I rode along with Crusher as my lone companion.

I continued to daydream of sweet, sweet freedom for mile after mile while getting farther and farther from any form of civilization. Modern development hadn’t yet touched these barren grounds, but it’s just a matter of time before they do. Until then open fields, pastures and woodland dominated the landscape.

I finally reached the rendezvous spot but wasn’t the first to arrive. One thousand Longhorns were already gathered on a wide grassy plain; anxious to get started along with six of the ten men assigned to help me drove them to the rail station in Wichita, Kansas. To get there we’d ride the Chisholm Trail beginning just north of here at the Red River Station in Texas.

In total we’ll be herding these skittish animals for over three hundred miles through barren wilderness, hostile territories and unforgiving elements. We’d have to cross some major rivers and traverse canyons, badlands and even small mountain ranges. Finding water and grass would be a daily concern not to mention fighting off sickness, animal attacks and even rustlers. If everything went smoothly we might get her done in just over a month but more likely it’ll take us the full six weeks.

“Morning Buck,” Clyde said to me as I climbed off my horse.

He and three other men were chatting amongst themselves in a tight, little circle. I recognized them immediately, having worked with most of them before.

Clyde was an older fella with a big gray beard and huge gut but don’t let appearances fool you, he’s an excellent worker and a fantastic trail cook. I was quite happy to see him there.

The other three excite me a lot less.

“Hello Jacob,” I said to Mr. Dolan’s oldest nephew.

Suddenly I realized why Dolan wanted my services so badly. Jacob is about fifteen years old and not much of a man by any standard. He’s a little on the feminine side and this trip is likely his uncle’s way of toughening him up. I’m here to make sure he learns the trade properly and arrives safely at our destination.

“Hey Buck, nice to see you,” Jacob said with that lisp of his. He was dressed to the nines in a brand new ‘drover’ outfit but, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was modeling for the department store selling the stuff.

“Good to see you too,” I tipped my hat before looking at the next guy.

“How you doing Buck?” Frankie grinned begrudgingly. “Hard to believe Dolan still thinks you’re up to leading his cattle. I wouldn’t trust you to roll them rocks down that cliff there.”

Frankie snickered at his own joke and nudged Jacob to join in the fun, but the youngster kept his cool.

“You drunk yet Frankie?” I asked with a glare, wanting to make sure this scrawny son of a bitch knew who was in charge, right off the bat. It’s true that Frankie and I have little respect for one another. To me he’s a good for nothing drunk and to him I’m a pesky obstacle on his way to becoming a trail boss. “Cause I can smell the booze off your wretched breath.”

“Shut up,” Frankie shot back.

“And when’s the last time you took a bath.”

“What are you talking about Buck?”

“Your clothes smell like shit,” I wafted my hand in front of my nose as the odour stung my nostrils. “You look like a man who’s been riding for weeks, not one who’s just starting out.”

“Do not,” Frankie snarled. “And I don’t give a shit what you think of my look.”

“Yeah well the rest of us have to live with your stench.”

“It’s not that bad,” Frankie said as he sniffed his own armpit. “Can hardly smell nothing so keep your fucking comments to yourself, boss man.”

“Hey, watch your tongue around the preacher,” I shot back with a playful smile, referring to the Reverend Paul Johnson who happened to be standing next to him.

“Sorry Pastor,” Frankie said with a tip of his dirty hat and a nod of repentance.

“Don’t worry about it,” the young Reverend replied flatly.

“Now why, pray tell, would a man of the cloth be on a job like this?” I asked as I genuinely wanted to know.

“Just want to better connect with my flock,” Pastor Paul replied sincerely. “Mr. Dolan agreed it would do me good to see how my congregation lives Monday to Saturday.”

“Well you’re not going to get any special treatment from me,” I said looking the young pastor straight in the eye. “If I give you a job I need to know I can count on you to get it done. I don’t have time for gawkers or sightseers. Do we understand each other?”

“Perfectly,” Paul shot me a big smile and I couldn’t help but notice how white his teeth were. “I’m here to work so whatever you need just ask.”

Unlike the rest of my crew, Paul was fit, clean-shaved and stood with perfect posture. Does this make him any less reliable? I didn’t know but at least he was dressed the part, that much was comforting. He wore a solid ten gallon hat, some rugged chaps, a good bandana and a functional pair of boots with nice pointy tips to get in and out of the stirrups quick like. This, of course, made me wonder who’d lent him all the gear. A pastor has no use for this kind of attire after all.

“Have you ever driven a trail before?” I asked knowing full well he hadn’t.

“No, this is my first time,” Paul said with a surprising amount of confidence. He’s a year or two older than me but right now seemed willing to follow my orders. This filled me with even more hope. “I’m here to learn and I’m a quick study. You won’t get any guff from me.”

Okay, let’s get something clear. I believe in God, as do all good cowboys, but I simply don’t have time for his minions, especially ones like Pastor Paul. He landed in Lincoln County just ten months back and I’ve hated him from the get go. Most clergy are shameful in my books, but Paul tops the list. He does nothing but demand money while making us feel bad about ourselves with each and every sermon.

Makes me sick.

“Good,” I said walking away from the huddled foursome with my dog Crusher following close behind me.

“Just want to be of use,” Paul said before he and the others returned to their conversation.

Well that’s the first part of my shitty team.

James Dolan was due to arrive shortly with the rest of our drovers, horses and supplies. So I decided to kill time by going off to find my brothers who have to be around here someplace.

“Hey Buck, glad you could finally make it,” my brother Jimmy greeted me in his thick southern drawl. I found him sitting comfortably on the ground away from the others, propped up against a stump with his cowboy hat pulled over his eyes. A long swig of grass was sticking out of his mouth.

Okay I should explain something. Jimmy isn’t really my brother, not in the traditional sense anyhow. We’re both orphans and have no blood relationship of any kind. We were simply taken in as kids by the same shit family and ended up working for our room and board on that lousy farm together. We had no one else to count on but each other and, as a result, have always watched each other’s backs.

So in that sense we’re tighter than most.

“Hi Jimmy,” I said as I stood over him. He still hadn’t moved off his grassy perch. “You’re looking good.”

And this was the god’s honest truth; he seemed well fed for a change. Jimmy maintained his slender build but wasn’t nearly as scrawny as he sometimes appeared. Often he looked like a fucking skeleton especially when off work or off drinking for long periods of time. On those occasions you could easily mistake him for death itself.

“Thanks for the kind words,” Jimmy said dryly. “Pretty sweet crew you’ve assembled here.”

“Yeah right,” I snickered. “A real dream team so far. We got a drunk, a pastor and a brat. Sounds more like the beginning of a bad joke. Wonder who else Dolan is going to dump on us?”

“At least we have Clyde,” Jimmy said.

“Yeah,” I shrugged in agreement. “Count your blessings I guess. We’ll eat good if nothing else.”

“Thought you were done with jobs like this,” Jimmy removed his hat and dusted it off, revealing his long, shaggy blonde hair and green eyes. “Thought you were a farmer now. What the hell are you doing back on the trail?”

I chuckled and shook my head in disgust. “Lost most of my cotton to a fire a few days back,” I dropped to one knee and picked a long blade of grass to chew on. My dog Crusher nudged in closer, looking for a rub on the head.

“How’d that happen?” Jimmy asked with concern.

“Not rightly sure,” I said twisting the grass between my teeth, while petting the dog. “Happened right after I turned Dolan down for this very job.”

“Really?” Jimmy nodded knowingly. “Seems like quite the coincidence.”

“My thinking exactly,” I looked over the rolling plains. “I’m in pretty deep with credit so I need this job, and more like it, if I want to stay afloat.”

“Shitty,” Jimmy shook his head. “You want to steal Dolan’s cattle and sell them from under his nose? Might set things right.”

I laughed out loud at this ridiculous notion, but had to glance over at him to make sure he was joking.

His big goofy smile told me just that.

Don’t get me wrong, the same thought had crossed my mind. It would feel great to exact my revenge by fucking him over financially, but this really wasn’t a viable option. First, the best place to sell these cows was at Wichita and he was going to be there. We could find another town but our late arrival would be noticed and Dolan would send goons to find us.

Also, the men assigned to me were loyal to Dolan and would certainly put up a fight. We’d have to kill them or risk them killing us. Not a pleasant thought. But even if we did manage to steal and sell the Longhorns, Dolan would hunt us the rest of our days. He’s not the type to let something like this go.

We’d be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives.

“How’d Susan take it?” Jimmy asked, speaking more seriously now.

I sighed deeply, not sure how to respond. “She’s ah ... taking it good I guess. Told her to sell everything and head home to Lincoln County to live with her folks until I’m done with this drive. Won’t get a lot for our six hogs and two cows but better than nothing.”

“You going to keep farming next year?”

“Doubt it,” I rubbed my face knowing it wouldn’t be this clean-shaven again until after this godforsaken trip is over. “Susan hates growing cotton and I don’t know if there’s any money in it. She’s going to meet me in Wichita and we’ll figure it out from there.”

“That’s too bad Buck,” Jimmy said sincerely. “I really hoped it would work out for you. God knows, things have to get better for one of us.”

I laughed and he smiled brightly.

“Where’s Benny?” I asked, changing the subject as there was really nothing more to say. After all, Jimmy understood my situation perfectly. He and I’d been taking shit most of our lives. We’d learned when to stand firm and when to let it slide off our back. He knew I couldn’t prove the attack but even if I could, who the fuck cares? What Dolan wants Dolan gets. We just grin and bare it while saying Yes Sir as he orders us to do another shit task.