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  Years earlier, Buck Halliday had saved Jack Butler’s life. Butler, then a miner, had been badly injured by claim jumpers and would have died for sure had Halliday not taken a hand. As it was, he left three dead men behind him and somehow managed to drag Butler forty miles to a doctor.

  Butler never forgot that, and when by chance their trails crossed again, he was determined to reward Halliday from his newly-acquired wealth.

  Trouble was, there were folks around who figured that wealth had been stolen. And when the victim’s son came looking for justice, Halliday had to decide just how far he was prepared to back his old friend …

  HALLIDAY 6: BORN TO BE WILD

  By Adam Brady

  First published by Cleveland Publishing Co. Pty Ltd, New South Wales, Australia

  © 2020 by Piccadilly Publishing

  First Digital Edition: November 2020

  Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book

  Series Editor: Ben Bridges

  Text © Piccadilly Publishing

  One – Yosemite Valley

  “Ma’am?”

  At the call from behind her, the woman stopped her brushing and turned, her long black hair swishing across her bare shoulders and partly concealing her full bosom. For a moment, her eyes looked fearful, but then the fear lifted and her eyes widened with interest.

  Buck Halliday sat tall in the saddle, his weariness forgotten as he studied the woman on the porch.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you, ma’am,” he drawled. “But I rode across open country. Figured you’d see me comin’.”

  The young woman turned the hand mirror about in her hand, put the brush down on the porch rail, studied her reflection in the mirror a moment longer, then rose from her chair. Casually, she fastened the four buttons of her blouse. Her face glowed with pride—she knew how beautiful she was.

  “Do you always creep up on people like that, stranger?” she asked, but with a smile in her voice. She fingered the top button of her blouse but decided to leave it undone.

  “Just came to water my horse, ma’am,” Halliday said, casting a casual look about him, for this was the first homestead he’d come across in a week.

  “You must be blind then,” she said, and looked beyond him to where the land dipped away. “Or maybe your horse is so choosy he doesn’t like creek water.” She stepped into the doorway and Halliday noticed the rifle leaning against the wall just inside the door. “Or perhaps you’re the kind who thinks he has a right to impose on people.”

  Halliday sighed and tightened the reins in his hands. “I got caught up in yesterday’s dust storm, ma’am,” he explained. “Kinda lost my way. I’d be obliged if you could direct me to Yosemite Valley.”

  Halliday heard hoof beats coming down the side of the house. Then the young woman straightened and a hint of defiance showed at the corners of her mouth. She reached down, lifted the rifle and leveled it.

  “No need for that, ma’am,” Halliday said. “Just got through tellin’ you that—”

  Then the woman stepped out of the doorway and called:

  “Jack! Come quick!”

  The hoof beats quickened as the horse broke into a gallop. Then a rider appeared around the corner of the house, rifle in hand. He was middle-aged and his range coat gave his lean body more bulk than Halliday remembered.

  “Jack, this intruder crept up on me and now refuses to leave.”

  Halliday opened his mouth to argue but the rider was grinning after a first moment of annoyance.

  “I’ll be damned! Buck Halliday! What in all blue blazes are you doin’ out here? I thought you were gonna stay down in the Sonoras.”

  “Howdy, Jack,” Halliday said, causing the young woman to frown, then ask;

  “You two know each other?”

  Jack Butler let his horse walk on. “Sure, do, Bess. This is the man I told you about, the one who saved my skin in Carver City. He carried me damn near forty miles to a sawbones, then he looked after me for two whole weeks. And I can tell you, he ain’t the kind to close his eyes on what a woman might show him! But hell, he wouldn’t do nothin’ ungentlemanly—not unless you threw him an open invitation, that is.”

  Still grinning, Butler was clearly amused by the young woman’s deepening annoyance. His smile brought a flush to her cheeks and a flash to her eyes.

  “Jack, I said he crept up on me and—”

  “Seems you never heard a word I said and I got no time to explain it any further,” Butler said. “Got to get to town.”

  “Again?” The woman stamped her foot then turned the gun on him. “You’re going to leave me alone out here again?”

  “Said you could come with me, Bess, remember?” Butler shrugged. “But you said you wanted to stay here. Now I ain’t gonna change my ways just ’cause you came here for some pamperin’. The place has everythin’ you want, so no use whinin’ at me.” Butler wheeled his horse beside Halliday’s and said, “Guess you’re lookin’ for a town, eh, Buck? Can’t see how this place would suit the likes of you.”

  Halliday gave the woman another cool look and turned his horse about. But Bess had moved out from the doorway and her mouth was thin with anger as she glared at Butler.

  “Why, you snivelin’ little pipsqueak of a—”

  “Hold it, Bess,” Butler said firmly. “If you get bored, there’s plenty of chores you can do. I’ll be back soon as I can, and I’ll check things out in town for you. Just count your blessin’s and remember that I’m the only friend you got ’round here now. Fact is, I’ve put my neck on the line for you and so far all I’ve got for my trouble is a big, fat nothin’!”

  Halliday saw anger take hold of Butler’s mouth while at the same time, his gaze feasted on the woman’s lush body.

  Bess mouthed an oath and then snapped, “And you’ll get nothing, damn you! I’m not one of your little saloon floozies. And as for doing anything on this place, I’d rather clean a pigs’ pen than soil my hands with your filth. If you think for one moment, Jack Butler, that I’m going to—”

  “I don’t aim to do no more thinkin’ at all about you, Bess. Done enough of that and worried myself loco. No, I got a closed mind on you. You can stay or go, take your pick.”

  Butler’s words crackled in the morning’s quiet and Halliday detected a depth of disappointment in his rugged features. Then Butler moved his horse away, his shoulders slumped as Halliday gave Bess a nod and followed his friend out.

  But Bess broke into a wild outburst of abuse that forced Butler to draw rein. He cast a furtive look Halliday’s way and sighed. Then, turning back to the woman, he dug something from his pocket and weighed it thoughtfully in the palm of his hand.

  “Here,” he called as he tossed the gold coin to her.

  Bess saw the gleaming coin coming and caught it deftly. She studied it in the sunlight and Halliday saw a gleam of satisfaction light up her eyes. She pocketed the coin and kept her hand in her pocket. But then her annoyance was back again. She moved to the rail and was about to speak but Butler got in first;

  “Gotta be on my way, Bess. Be back by sundown and I’ll bring you somethin’ nice from town. Okay?”

  He turned his horse and as Halliday ranged alongside him, the woman’s voice screamed more abuse after them. Butler sighed wearily again and said; br />
  “Don’t you ever be so loco as to bring a woman home. I figured I was lonely and needed somebody to warm my bed, and damn me didn’t I make the mistake of my life. Not that Bess doesn’t come in handy sometimes, if you know what I mean. But the price just ain’t worth the rewards.”

  Bess’ cries faded as they rode around a bend in the trail. Then, with Butler leading the way, they went down toward the creek.

  He put his horse into the water and let it drink its fill, remembering how he’d met this man.

  In his early days, Butler had been a prospector, and Halliday had come upon his mining camp after claim jumpers had taken to him with boots and rifle stocks. Halliday shot down three of the robbers and sent another two on their way. Then he’d hauled Butler forty miles to Carver City. Now, Butler said;

  “What are you doin’ in these parts anyway, Buck? Last I heard you was down in the Sonoras lockin’ horns with the Younger brothers.”

  “Nothin’ more than rumor,” Halliday said. “What about you, Jack?”

  “Finally struck it rich, Buck ... I said rich! You’ll see. You need anythin’, just ask. Soon’s we hit town and I get to the bank, I’m gonna pay you back all that I owe. By hell, all them weeks you cared for me—”

  “It was only two, Jack,” Halliday informed the man.

  “Two of the most important weeks of my life, though. Just bein’ with you, Buck, watchin’ how you handled things, well, that taught me plenty. I decided that gettin’ into tangles with other men never did a feller much good. I remembered how you minded your own business and let others make their fool mistakes. Well, I took to doin’ that myself, and damn me if it didn’t work. I’ve steered clear of trouble so well that I guess I got to seein’ things as they rightly are. I put my head down and worked hard, and with a little luck I saved a few hundred dollars. After that it was just movin’ in the right circles, takin’ the right advice, and now I’m set for the rest of my life.”

  Halliday nodded though he was really not that interested. He was trail-weary and needed a feed and a drink. Then he hoped to pick up some work that would keep him from spending the small stake he had left. He didn’t care all that much what Butler’s life had been like. But he’d learned a little more about the woman. Butler had come into some money and almost immediately, Bess had latched onto him.

  His horse finished its drinking and they rode out of the creek. Looking ahead across the flat country, Halliday could see the vague shape of a town in the distance.

  “Yosemite Valley?”

  “Sure is, Buck. That where you was headed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Any special reason?” Butler asked, watching Halliday carefully, a knot of worry rutting his thin, shallow brow.

  “Heard there was some work goin’ there and right now I need the money.”

  “Ain’t you been listenin’ to me, Buck?” Butler grinned. “I’m loaded. Got enough to see both of us through.”

  “I don’t accept handouts, Jack,” Halliday told him. “You know that.”

  “It’s not a handout, Buck. Hell, you gotta give a man the chance to repay you for all you did. Without you, I’d prob’ly be dead.”

  Halliday shrugged. The man was right. He had been in a tight corner, but he didn’t see the man’s debt as an everlasting one. He said;

  “I don’t mind you payin’ me for the two weeks I cared for you in Carver City, Jack. And I could sure do with the money right now.”

  “You’ll get paid for that and more, Buck, you’ll see. Maybe I’ll have a talk to Bess and see if we cain’t put you up for a time. Hell, once you get to know her, you’ll like her. She’s wild, likes to have her own way, but she knows when she’s on a good thing and she won’t cut out on me for awhile yet. You can stay and we can relive old times.”

  Halliday didn’t have the slightest intention of taking Butler up on his offer. If there was one thing in life he hated most, it was nostalgia. And despite his admiration for Bess’ young, full body, he didn’t plan to get to know her any better, either.

  Butler’s gossip had made it plain that Bess was a handful of trouble. She had put her shoes under the wrong bed too many times. Now, after the Sonoras and his brush with the Younger brothers, Halliday was looking for some peace and quiet.

  Halliday found Yosemite Valley bigger than he had expected, with the houses and stores packed so close together, land had to be at a premium. The town seemed to be leaping ahead too quickly for its own good.

  They reined-in at the saloon tierail and Butler went to the bank, telling Halliday to order a drink for them both and wait for him. Having nothing better to do, he took the steps to the saloon boardwalk and found a place for himself at the end of the rye-stained counter.

  There was a motley-looking crowd inside, a mixture of townsmen, cattlemen, drifters and bums, all interested in their own sorry stories and each group minding its own business. The barkeep took Halliday’s money and left the bottle for him to help himself. The gesture was a sure sign of a prosperous establishment, and it was his experience that where a saloon prospered, working men had little to worry about.

  He was well into his second drink when Butler came striding into the room to be immediately greeted on all sides by calls of welcome. Two old-timers attached themselves to him as he came across the crowded room, and Butler gave them some of his loose change. Then two saloon girls suddenly appeared and slipped their arms through his as he made his way to the end of the counter.

  Butler introduced the girls to Halliday.

  Cherie, the younger of the two, was heavily rouged but as pretty a girl as Halliday had ever expected to find in a saloon west of the Platte. Lola gave Halliday a brief look of interest but when Cherie sidled alongside him and clearly staked her claim, Lola turned her attention to Butler.

  Butler basked in the attention the two women afforded him, but it cost him more than five dollars in the next half-hour for the privilege of their company. Halliday paid his way, no more no less, and then Butler, realizing that Halliday was beginning to get fidgety, sent the women on their way after slipping a banknote between their ample cleavages. He then put the rest of the pile on the counter and began to count out the money, saying as he did so;

  “Buck, that there’s for the trip to Carver City. That’s for the payment you made to the sawbones and that’s for the grub and liquor you bought to see me well again.”

  Halliday looked at the sizeable pile and reluctantly accepted what he saw as due compensation. Pocketing the money, he thanked Butler and said;

  “Must have been some strike, Jack. Was it gold?”

  “Near as good, Buck,” Butler beamed. “I ran some head down the Rialto and struck some towns that hadn’t tasted meat for over a year. The buyers went loco, gave me anythin’ I asked for and more. I made about as good a killin’ as any cattle baron’s ever made up north. Got enough to last me a lifetime, I figure.”

  “The way you’re spendin’ it, Jack, you might have to mint some more before long,” Halliday warned him, but Butler was feeling so good that he threw his head back and laughed. Then he caught Lola’s eye, placed a handful of change on the counter, and leaning forward, whispered in Halliday’s ear;

  “I got someone to take care of, Buck. If you like, I can arrange for Cherie to join us upstairs. We can have a drink or two, get to know the girls a little better and you can let Cherie do what she does best.”

  Butler gave his old friend a nudge in the ribs and patted his bulging pocket.

  “No need to worry about the cost, neither. Lola and Cherie need only some little present to keep them interested in a man. Whatever you want, Buck, I’m buyin’.”

  Halliday was immediately reminded of the woman back at the ranch, as desirable a female as any man could hope to find ... and one for whom you didn’t have to buy presents. Yet here he was, paying for their company ... and not one anywhere near as attractive as Bess.

  “I’ve been in the saddle for seven straight days and I’ve eaten
nothin’ but dust in the last three,” Halliday said. “You do what you want, pard. I’m more than happy to stay where I am.”

  “As you like, Buck,” Butler said, and then he stole a look at the stairs again. Lola had already reached the landing. “I’ll catch up with you later, Buck. An’ don’t go back to Bess without me, and don’t breathe a word about this to her. She’d skin me alive, no matter what she tries to pretend.”

  Halliday picked up his drink and Cherie came across the floor and eyed him expectantly. But he looked away and filled his glass again. He thought of the trails he had ridden in the last few years, the excitement he had enjoyed, the disappointments he had known. Women like Cherie helped a man forget those disappointments. So did having enough money in your pocket to take your time looking for a good job, instead of dumping your gear into the first camp you came across.

  Feeling more relaxed now, he pushed a pile of change across to the barkeep and said;

  “See that Jack gets that when he comes back. If he’s lookin’ for me, I’ll be at the diner or in the rooming house. Tell him I’ll see him next time he’s in town.”

  “That’ll be tomorrow, early. Jack comes to town near every day now. He’s got the spending bug, you see.”

  Halliday merely nodded. After a feed and a rest, he might be itching for some female company then. He might even come looking for Cherie. Then again, he might even hit the trail.

  He had just left his seat when the batwings banged open. He saw a tall, good-looking man in black towner’s garb pushing his way through the crowd. Directly behind him came a second man, a huge individual with craggy features that showed the marks of many a brawl, but in no way detracted from the friendly look in his wide-set eyes.

  But it was the third man, coming hard behind the pair, who caught and held Halliday’s attention. He was shorter than the others and his face was lean and hungry. He had a hooked nose and a thin, surly mouth. From his eyes darted hard glances to all points of the room, as if something deep inside him refused to let him trust any man in the place.