collected the herd, there were bound to be a few cows and horses they’d missed. Joe had even noticed some steers with the Calder brand in the McCrackens’ corral.
Clem’s specialty was altering the brands. In a shed behind the sod house, he kept a collection of branding irons he’d fashioned himself. When a new batch of livestock came in, he would make a fire, heat up the irons, and go to work.
Joe, whose job it was to rope and help hold the animals for branding, found it fascinating to watch him. Outlaw or not, Clem was a master craftsman. When he finished changing a bar to an arrow, a C to a circle, adding a rocking symbol, or making other alterations, the change was undetectable.
Much of the time they talked as they worked. Ambrose was taciturn; Slinger was aloof; but Clem’s easygoing manner made him the closest thing Joe had to a friend. By the time he’d been with the family a month, Joe had told Clem about the stampede and how Benteen Calder had turned his back, ridden off, and left him for dead.
“So I’m guessin’ you’d like to get even with the sonofabitch.” Clem lifted a glowing iron out of the charcoal fire, positioned it perfectly, and pressed it to the hip of a bawling steer. The odor of charred hide filled the air as the steer scrambled away.
“You bet your life I would.” Joe singled out a branded calf, roped its legs, and dragged it to the fire.
“Well, there’s just one way to do that. Calder’s drive is likely crossing Wyoming by now. They’re out of our reach. But if Benteen Calder’s as ambitious as you say, he’ll be bringin’ more cattle north. Next time he drives a herd through Nebraska, we can stampede the stock and rob him blind. Calder won’t know what hit ’im. How does that sound?”
“It sounds fine.” Joe held the calf down, while Clem changed the brand. He wasn’t crazy about waiting for the next Calder cattle drive, which wouldn’t happen until the following spring, at the soonest. Worse, from the way Clem was talking, it sounded as if the McCrackens planned to keep him around as a permanent part of the family operation.
He’d already stepped into young Benjy’s job, just as he’d stepped into Benjy’s clothes and boots, which fit him well enough. Benjy’s, and now Joe’s, specialty was close-up scouting—how many hands were on a cattle drive, how many cattle and horses, and where were the most vulnerable spots to pick up a few animals. Once Joe had made his report, Slinger would plan and carry out the theft, with as much help as needed from the rest of the gang.
The McCrackens avoided any confrontation with the cowboys. Although they carried guns, Joe had yet to hear them fire a shot. Their method was to steal in under cover of darkness and make off with a few cattle and horses that might not even be missed until later.
They were good at what they did. And as long as he did as he was told, they treated Joe decently enough. But Joe’s mother had raised him to be honest. He was tormented by guilt. And the dread of being arrested and hanged kept him awake at night. He was tempted to find an unguarded moment and try to run. But if caught by the outlaws, he’d likely be killed. Even if he escaped, he’d still be in danger from the law, or from angry cattlemen who’d string him up on the spot.
He was trapped, with no way out. Finding Sarah was out of the question now. So was going home to his family in Texas. At the age of sixteen, Joe Dollarhide had become an outcast.
Summer passed into autumn. Autumn gave way to a frigid, miserable winter the likes of which Joe had never experienced in Texas. Aside from tending to the horses and other chores, much of the time was spent either huddled in the sod house, with the fire burning dried cow chips and a norther howling outside, or hunting for game to supplement the meager stores in the cellar under the floor. When Slinger found a cow, recently dead from hunger and cold, he dragged the carcass home to be butchered, keeping them in meat for a few more precarious weeks.
“Why in hell’s name do you live like this?” Joe asked Clem as they broke the ice on the horse trough one morning. “Hiding out here in the