The Conundrum is about a cowboy who isn't sure of what side of the fence he wants to ride, law or outlaw. He gets into Colorado mining and meets two beautiful women. One is a gold-digger after his money, the other is his mining partner. Others try to horn in on his beholdings and he's the wrong man with which they should tangle.

THE CONUNDRUM

By Tom Davy

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2009 Tom Davy
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-2198-6

Chapter One

If you would ask anyone in Kiowa County, Texas to describe Bo Davis, they would probably start out by saying something like, "He's one-tough-son-of-a-bitch." But then, everybody knew that. Bo Davis was not the kind of man, however, who went about acting tough. There was no need to, but the fact remained he simply was just that: tough. No one, however, accused him of being a bully, either. He had no need to look for fights of any kind - that was just not his style. Fights were usually thrust upon him. Finishing fights was his forte.

There were some who knew Bo who would describe him as a really nice guy, fun to be around and a top hand. Above all, he was a top hand. Everyone would agree with that. In fact, he had always been a top hand, even when he was a teenager. Maybe now he was the best in the whole territory, maybe the best in Texas and that meant anywhere if you were a Texan. There was nothing on a ranch that he couldn't do, fix or make better.

Many people would say Bo Davis was the one to call on for ranch projects by simply asking him to help and he would pitch right in until the job was done. He was never known to ask for compensation on those types of projects either, or for favors in return, and when people found that out, he became more and more in demand. One thing those people did do for him, every time, was to feed him a home-cooked meal, which he always accepted.

Yet again, no one who knew the man would choose to be on Bo Davis' bad side. Pushing Bo too far was something that could prove to be fatal. It was a mistake that happened a couple of times.

On the other hand, Bo seemed to especially like helping the needy, the downtrodden; going out of his way to do whatever it took to help solve their problems. He was a fighter for good causes. The man was a conundrum, that's what he was - a conundrum!

Bo had just finished ramrodding the Rafter H crew through their spring roundup and branding. They had worked for six weeks straight, working cattle on a huge ranch. They put the Rafter H Brand on over three thousand head of young cattle - mavericks and cattle bought from half-a-dozen other outfits that were already wearing at least one other brand. It was a large undertaking that went without a flaw mostly because Davis was in charge. They worked sun-up to sun-down seven days a week and got it done.

In addition to his ramrod duties, Bo worked alongside of his hands. They liked that, talked about the fact that their foreman worked with them rather than sitting on a horse just barking out orders. The work was hard and dirty and the routine was made almost unbearable because of the south Texas heat. Now that the work was over it happened to be Thursday night and the cowboys had a rare extra day off and a ten dollar bonus, which sent them scurrying to the river for baths, haircuts and shaves for a real Friday and Saturday night on the town. If they hurried they could include a Thursday night, too.

Bo, however, had something else on his mind. He already had his bath in the river, he shaved sitting in the stream, but did nothing about his long hair. He found a shade tree near the river, leaned up against it, tossed his hat to the side, rolled a smoke and began to sort things out. It was the time in his life for him to reflect on his past, take stock of his present and think hard about his future.

It was ten years ago that his three older brothers were reported killed in action fighting for the South. Six months later, his father too was killed in the same war. Bo's mother, a very genteel woman, took only a year to waste away without her man, her rock to lean on. Her true love was gone leaving her with a broken heart that was just too much for her to bear. Bo was fourteen at the time. He was left on his own to finish school, find a way to make a living and continue on with his own life.

School was where he learned to fight as on-the-job training. He fought often, not because he wanted to, but because he had to defend himself from others who liked to pick on the lonely kid. There was even a day when Ken Dutcher had three others hold Bo while he beat him until he fell to the ground. That was when Dutcher continued kicking Bo as he lay in the dirt, helpless. Bo paid them all back, though, eventually. He got them one at a time, saving Dutcher for last. Bo caught him alone one night after school and beat him to a bloody mess, which got Bo expelled from school, which changed his life, forever.

First, he worked for old Grizz Harper at the livery stable where he learned not only about horses but how to play poker. Old Grizz was an expert at cards with years of experience who took the time to teach Bo how to play, bet, bluff and detect cheaters. They spent many nights playing each other mostly as practice for Bo.

Actually, Old Grizz caught a tinhorn cheating at the Lilly Belle Saloon one night. A gunfight erupted and Grizz was shot down. Bo heard the shots and ran to the Lilly Belle to see Grizz die on the floor of the saloon. He was unarmed, but the fleeing gambler quickly rode out of Rippling Springs, the sheriff's jurisdiction and kept going for parts unknown. At least that is what the sheriff and the posse claimed.

At Grizz's funeral, Bo was asked by a lawyer in town to be at the reading of Harper's will. Bo found that Grizz had no kin and left his two personal horses, saddle and his other possessions to Bo Davis. The bank took over the livery.

Going to Grizz's room at the livery, Bo went through his things. He put everything in a pile on Grizz's bed. Grizz had a Sharps buffalo gun, complete with loading tools and a sack full of ammunition ready to go. The gun itself was clean, oiled and ready for bear. There was also Grizz's most prized possession, a Bowie knife of great size and heft. Bo laid that aside along with the rifle.

Rummaging through a drawer, Bo found a tin box stuffed way in the back containing four hundred dollars. He left the box but put the money in his pocket. As one might expect of an old trapper and buffalo hunter, there was a variety of Green River knives all in a box that Bo wanted to keep. There was an Indian tomahawk pipe that he had no use for, but he took the Army Issue blankets and a beaver plew vest, even though it was too big for him, and left the rest of the man's personal affects on Grizz's bed. He packed the pack saddle on one of his horses, saddled Grizz's saddle horse and rode to the end of town to the blacksmith shop where he asked for a job.

The blacksmith, Emmett Jacobson, was swamped with work and hired Bo on, effective immediately. At first, Bo just held horses for the blacksmith, fired up the forge and ran errands. He delivered horses when they were shod and picked up others returning them for Jacobson to shoe. When Emmett had time he began to show Bo how to shoe. By the time he was a year older, Bo was not only shoeing but was doing other metal work creating what customers asked him to build with iron. He was good and he knew it, but it was time to move on. The Rafter H was hiring for a huge cattle drive to Dodge City and Bo wanted to go. He wanted to be a cowboy, full-time.

Bill Hahn hired him on as a wrangler. Bo used his shoeing skills and what he'd learned about horses working for Grizz Harper. At the Rafter H, Bo started to ride Broncs and train them to be cow ponies. He learned to rope and became exceptionally skilled with lariats. He practiced with his rope every spare moment until some said he was a magician with a lasso.

When he bought his first gun with his own money, it was one of the newest Colt revolvers complete with gun-belt and holster. Practicing with it became an everyday routine, but sessions were always off by himself, sometimes in the dark. He had been a long-time fanatic about shooting Grizz's buffalo gun at far-away targets. He grew to be known as able to hit anything with that rifle, no matter what the distance. They said that of Bo, "If he can see it, he can hit it." Nobody, however, knew how fast he was with the six-gun. That was a private thing.

Usually he went to town with the boys on Saturday nights. One night he sat in a game at the table where a tinhorn drank enough to loosen his tongue. He began bragging about having a shoot-out with an old buffalo hunter two years prior. The man was really quietly talking to a cowboy next to him by leaning his way so as to gain his confidence, but could still be heard by all the men at the table. As he leaned toward the cowboy, however, he was reading the cowboy's hand and only a couple of players, including Bo, realized what he was doing. From what Bo heard the man say, and then he also saw him look at the cowboy's hand, he decided to watch him like a hawk.

When the gambler won the deal, Bo grabbed his hand while the man was trying to deal off the bottom of the deck. When the dealer's fingers went under the deck to deliver the deal, Bo caught the tinhorn's hand still pulling the card from the bottom. It was one of Grizz's lessons that Bo had never forgot. The dealer started cussing Bo, but the others could see what he was trying to do. Others at the table were swearing at the dealer; another took his stack of money and started distributing it among the other players. The tinhorn jerked his hand free and went for his shoulder-holstered gun, but he was way too slow for Bo.

Bo's gun hand roared into action before the other man could pull his weapon clear of its holster. He had heard enough to know this was the man who had killed his friend, Grizz. His first shot did the job on the gambler. He could have stopped there, but he emptied his gun in anger into the tinhorn, which drove the man back away from the table to lay motionless on the floor of the saloon staring at the ceiling. Most said it was true justice for Bo to get the gambler who had killed his friend in a similar gun-fight over the same crooked deal.

Lolly King, owner of the saloon and casino, ran to the table to grab Bo's arm and lead him away from the crowd. She knew Bo to be very quiet when he visited her establishment and was very surprised at his action. If truth had been known, Lolly liked the young man and wanted to help him by getting him away from the scene. First she took him to her room and told him to stay there. Returning to the casino she talked for him by explaining what happened to the sheriff. Her story was backed up by the others at the table, all of them claiming cheating and self-defense. The sheriff let it go as such, but Bo received a warning by the sheriff through Lolly King. He stayed out of Rippling Springs for the next two months.

Chapter Two

Bo made himself more comfortable against the tree. He thought about the second man he had killed with a gun. Thinking back to another high stakes poker game, one of the few of those he had played. Most cowboys never had enough money for high stakes games, but Bo did. He always had money. He came away a big winner that night in Rippling Springs, winning over a thousand dollars. He was riding high on the way home when one of the gamblers, a big loser in their game, tried to ambush Bo with ideas of taking his winnings. The man's first shot missed him in the dark, but Bo saw where the flash came from and dove off his horse for cover behind a boulder nearby. The second shot ricocheted off the rock cutting a furrow across his cheek. Blinded for a few seconds by the shot and chips of rock, Bo had to wait for his sight to clear. When he was able to look up, the man was running for his horse and grabbing at the reins. But the horse shied away from him, pulling him to the ground, as the animal then broke free and ran off. Bo ran toward him, chasing him on foot into a nearby barn. The man ran inside.

Bo ran to the front double door. One side of the big double-door was open a crack. Without hesitation he opened the door a little more and then ran inside to hide behind the sacks of grain he knew to be stored there, having been in the barn many times.

Davis waited; he did not have to move to see the interior of the barn - he knew it by heart and he, himself, did not move. There was a clink as though someone threw an object to distract him, but he didn't fall for the old trick. Instead, he tried to figure out where it was thrown from and that was when he saw some movement in the shadows of the barn. Still he waited, but focused on the movement. His man was working his way back to the front door. Bo slowly, quietly, moved his gun arm to level it on the patch of moonlight shining through the open door. He heard a rush, cocked his gun and as soon as he saw the shadow of his man, he fired. The shot stood the man up even though it was hard for Bo to see him for a clear shot. He fired again. His man went down, but was he dead? Bo threw a pitchfork to the left, nothing happened. Bo was not about to move, he had to shoot by reckoning, not able to see his sights in the dark. He felt around him for another object, but tried not to show too much movement above the grain sacks. He felt along the top of the sacks. His hand hit the familiar shape of a curry comb. This time he threw it at the body in the moonlight of the open door. The body moved to shoot when Bo once more pulled the trigger, firing at the body. The body jerked, the man cried out, but Bo did not move even though he knew the man could have seen the flash of his gun. He knew the body was not in position to fire at him again unless it moved first. He had fallen in the moonlight spot near the open doors of the barn. Bo stood quietly and very slowly. He moved forward as cautiously as he could. He crawled over the grain sacks and moved toward the body. Running steps were now moving toward the barn as others located where the gunshots where coming from. Bo could see the man's gun inches from his hand; he kicked it away. The man was on his belly; Bo kneeled with one knee on the man's back and put the muzzle of his gun against the downed man's temple. With his free hand he felt for a pulse; there was none. It was safe to stand and he did. Then Bo walked away while the others went to the barn to check on the dead man.

* * *

That same spring Bo made his first cattle drive when he was still only a teenager. He learned a lot about cattle. He acted as a nighthawk, wrangled and had horses ready and close by when the hands were ready to start their day. He always had them watered, tried to find the best grass available for their forage at night and kept them shod. Bill Hahn patted him on the back for the extra things Bo did, like doctoring the animals - horses and cattle alike- repaired equipment when he had time to do that, and brushed the backs of horses when they were caked with sweat and dust from the trail. Bill Hahn made the comment to one of the other ranchers that as long as Bo was taking care of their horses, there was never a sore back, or gall, on any of his remuda. Bo knew he meant it because it was true.

Bo honed all his skills to a point where other ranchers were offering him more money to work for them as foreman. Bill Hahn raised Bo's salary, regularly, to where the others could not touch him, but Hahn knew he wouldn't be able to keep Bo much longer. Bo Davis was destined for bigger things, but first he wanted to become a top bronc rider. He rode the rough string whenever he could. He broke and trained horses for working cattle every chance he could. With his talent, he was the best rider in the whole territory. There was not a horse around, anywhere, that he wouldn't try.

By the time Bo was twenty-one years old he was the ramrod on a trail drive to Dodge City. His main obstacle in that drive was a tornado that took twenty-five head and injured several others. Then Indians stole half of their remuda and they had no money to buy replacements. He fought for and got "top dollar" for the herd which got him a large bonus from Bill Hahn after he heard about the outlaws, who had tried to rob them on the way home, but Bo's cleverly planned counterattack got their money back and the outlaws were killed and left on the prairie to rot for the scavengers. The men talked about that drive and their ramrod for a long time after that. Bo was becoming well-known on the cattle trails from Texas to all points in Kansas.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from THE CONUNDRUMby Tom Davy Copyright © 2009 by Tom Davy. Excerpted by permission.
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