Page 160 of The Ranger
“Shut it,” John warned. He swallowed hard and prayed none of them upset their one chance to get out of Oregon and go to California. There was more work down there and more opportunities for men such as themselves.
Their boss brought his horse to a stop and jumped down with practiced ease. “Mr. Bolger.” He tossed his horse’s reins to Carmine, who barely caught them in time.
“Mr. Brennan.” John stood straighter. “What can we do for you?”
“Report.”
John tried not to gulp. Philip Brennan, who was in his forties, if John had to guess, was blonde-haired, brown eyed, well-dressed, and handsome. He sported a finely trimmed beard and mustache and was the deadliest man John had ever met. He hired him along with his brothers and cousins to replace some of his workers. When John arrived to work out the particulars, Brennan shot said workers in front of him, then casually told him that’s who John and his gang were replacing. If the money wasn’t so good, he’d have nothing to do with the likes of the wicked Englishman. But they wanted to get to California and see if they could make a life there, so…
“We searched the area around the Triple-C Ranch but found nothing. There’s children on the ranch, but they’re all too young. Except a couple of ‘em. But they might be too old.”
Mr. Brennan’s eyes brightened. They reminded John of a predator about to attack its prey. “Do tell?”
John’s insides quivered. He didn’t know what it was about the Englishman that so unnerved him, other than seeing him shoot men in cold blood.
“She might be around eighteen. And she’s got a brother. He’s older, early twenties.”
Mr. Brennan drew in a lungful of air, eyes closed. “Ahhhh, excellent.” His eyes opened. “Get them for me.”
“But... they live on the Triple-C Ranch. The place is crawling with people. That family is huge!”
Mr. Brennan smiled. “Are there not six of you?”
“And three times that many on the Triple-C,” John reminded him.
His smile broadened. “Then lucky for you I’ve brought reinforcements.”
John caught the sound of hoofbeats before the man finished speaking. At least twenty riders were approaching.
“The rest of your hired guns,” he stated.
Mr. Brennan ignored it. “I don’t care how you do it. Bring me the boy and his sister. Be discreet if you can but do it. I only need to test them.”
“For what?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Then… you’ll release them?”
Indecision flashed in his eyes, before they darkened. “Of course.”
John nodded. He wasn’t going to push it. In the short amount of time he’d worked for Philip Brennan, he found out how unpredictable he was. Like the way he went ramrod straight and looked across the prairie toward Clear Creek with more than a little interest.
“Something wrong, Mr. Brennan?”
He glared at John. “Quiet.” He closed his eyes, his head tilting to one side, as if he were listening. Then his eyes sprang open. “No, it couldn’t be. Kawahnee?”
“Um, Mr. Brennan, sir?”
His head snapped to him, eyes narrowed to slits. “You have your orders. Bring them to me, and you’ll be handsomely paid.”
“Uh, you’re asking us to abduct them?”
Mr. Brennan grabbed him by the shirt collar so fast he didn’t have time to blink. “Bring me the girl and boy. One at a time if you like. It doesn’t matter. I’d do it myself but as I’ve just had a suspicion confirmed, it’s best you do it.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Mick said. “But them Cookes is having themselves a dance. The whole town’s gonna be there. Might be a way to sneak one of ‘em away.”
Mr. Brennan thought a moment. “Perhaps. But I question your capabilities. You have yet to prove yourselves to me.”