the cattle. Stampede the remuda as well, and any cowboys chasing the stolen stock would be riding worn-out horses.
“And if it doesn’t rain?” Slinger demanded.
“Then everything gets a lot riskier, and we won’t take as many cattle,” Joe said. “I say we trail the herd and wait for a storm as long as we can.”
“We can’t wait too long,” Clem argued. “If they make it to Ogallala, we’ve lost ’em. Beyond that point, we’d be too far from our buyer, and we don’t know the country. We could even run into renegade Cheyenne or Lakota. The ladies like how I look with my scalp on my head. I’d just as soon keep it there.”
“So what if we don’t get a storm?” Slinger asked.
“Then we make a new plan for going in on a clear night.”
“Makes sense to me,” Clem said. “Slinger?”
Slinger managed a nod before he was seized by a racking cough. Blood drops dotted his beard as he doubled over with pain.
* * *
For the next two days and nights, the three men trailed the Calder herd. The air smelled of rain. Sheet lightning flashed among the clouds that roiled along the horizon. But the hoped-for nighttime storm had yet to come.
Joe had plenty of time to study the cattle and the crew. The herd was about the same size as on the first drive—close to 2,500 steers, cows, and calves, all wearing the triple C brand of the Calder Cattle Company.
There was no sign of Benteen Calder. This time the trail boss was Jesse Trumbo. Joe still had mixed feelings toward Jesse, the man who would have found him under his horse on that fateful morning if he hadn’t obeyed Calder’s order to leave. The boss was the man who gave the orders—but if Jesse had insisted on taking five minutes to check the wash and offered to catch up afterward, Calder would probably have let him.
Rusty was still manning the chuckwagon. The rest of the cowhands were strangers—all to the good. Even if one of them saw his face, he wouldn’t be recognized. And if, God forbid, he had to shoot somebody, at least it wouldn’t be somebody he knew.
By the third day, Clem and Slinger were getting impatient. So was Joe. But the advantages of a storm held him in check. The memory of that awful night with the lightning, the rain, and the stampede still haunted his dreams. But when he thought of how easy it would have been for someone to make off with part of the herd, he knew that a storm, if it came, would be worth the wait.
On the last possible night, after the three had already agreed on a dry weather plan, the storm moved in. Sweeping across the sky, boiling black clouds exploded overhead in earthshaking bursts of lightning and thunder.
With no time to lose, Joe and the brothers moved in to carry out their plan. Remembering the tragic death of Spanish Bill, Joe had cautioned the brothers against wearing metal that might attract lightning. His words were wasted breath. They would all need their guns. But with luck, out of the same fear, the cowboys guarding the herd might leave their weapons in camp tonight.
The plan was for Joe to sneak up close and spook the remuda. The bolting horses would trigger a cattle stampede, or at least a distraction. Clem and Slinger would flank the west side of the herd. Once the stampede started, they would drive as many cattle as possible in an eastward direction before the animals could start to mill. Once Joe got the horses running, he would cut around and join them. They would ride off together, driving the stolen cattle ahead of them.
If all went as planned, no shots would be fired, and no one would be hurt. But as Joe left his companions and rode through the black rain, with blue lightning crackling across the sky, he sensed that this was a night when nothing could be planned.
The remembered terror of that other storm—the unearthly glow on 2,000 pairs of horns, the tingling air, and the deadly bolt that had killed his friend crept over him. A knot of cold fear tightened in his gut. Joe forced himself to think about Benteen Calder and how the arrogant bastard had left him to die. Tonight was about the revenge he’d dreamed of for two long years. This was his chance. He had to keep going.