Preacher didn’t see any point in arguing with a man who was going to be dead in a minute or two. “Go to the spirit world, my friend, and may the hunting there always be good.”
“I am not—” The warrior’s head sagged back and his eyes glazed over. His spirit had started its journey to whatever destination awaited it.
Preacher left the bodies where they had fallen. When the three warriors didn’t come back, Red Knife would send men to search for them. Preacher wasn’t quite sure what they would make of it when they found the bodies. The dead men looked like they had been attacked by a pack of wolves.
It was a pretty fair description of what had happened to them, Preacher mused as he resumed his scouting with Dog at his side.
He went a mile upriver, circled back, skirted the fort, and explored the country east of the outpost. By the time he got back to Fort Gifford, the sun was well up and he was confident there were no Blackfeet close by.
As Preacher approached the fort he saw rifle barrels sticking out over the walls and was glad the defenders weren’t letting down their guard. A man appeared with the rope, holding it up as if asking if Preacher wanted him to throw it down. The mountain man recognized Quint Harrigan’s bristling red beard.
Preacher shook his head and pointed at the gates. “Open ’em up!” he called. “It’s safe for the time bein’.”
The heavy gates swung back. Ethan Langley strode outside the fort as soon as the opening was large enough.
Harrigan was right behind him, grinning. “I see you found that dog o’ yours.”
“What else did you find?” Langley asked in a brisk tone of voice. He hadn’t had any sleep for more than twenty-four hours, like the rest of them, but he was holding himself together pretty well for someone who wasn’t a veteran frontiersman.
“The Blackfeet have pulled back a ways,” Preacher reported. “I don’t know exactly where they are, but they’re far enough off that we ought to have time to lay our dead to rest without them botherin’ us.”
Several men had emerged from the fort behind Langley and Harrigan, among them Wiley Courtland and Otis Freeman. One of the fur trappers in the group suggested, “Maybe we ought to make a run for it while we got the chance.”
“Where are you gonna go?” Preacher asked. “Red Knife’s put out the call far and wide for more warriors. No white man’s gonna be safe anywhere in these parts until that varmint’s dead.”
“So what are you sayin’, that we should just wait here for those savages to kill us?”
“We should hold out until the supply boat gets here with more men and those cannon,” Langley said. “When they do, we’ll wipe Red Knife and his men off the face of the earth.”
Awry smile tugged at the corners of Preacher’s mouth. The booshwa had no way of knowing it, but he had just echoed the threat made by that dying Blackfoot warrior.
As far as Preacher could see, the odds were just about even on which side would get wiped from the face of the earth first.
CHAPTER 26
The six men who had died in the battle were buried on top of a small hill about a quarter mile from the fort. Preacher and several other men went along with the burial detail to act as guards. From the top of the hill they could see a pretty good distance all around. The Blackfeet might still be able to sneak up on them, but at least it was less likely with men keeping watch.
Langley brought his Bible from the trading post and read over the graves while the other men took off their hats and caps and stood around solemnly, knowing it was mostly a matter of luck they weren’t among the ones in the ground.
The short service over, everybody headed back to the fort, not losing any time getting behind the sturdy gates and the thick stockade walls. Most of the men heaved sighs of relief when the gates were closed and barred.
With no real work to be done other than keeping watch for the Blackfeet, Preacher said to Langley, “Pick out some men to stand guard. Everybody else needs to get some rest while they can.”
“I’m not sure anyone can relax enough to sleep under these circumstances,” Langley argued. “Those savages could come back at any time.”
“They could,” Preacher agreed, “but they can’t get near the fort in broad daylight without bein’ seen. And when a man who’s tired enough gets a chance to sleep, you’d be surprised how quick he forgets about everything else.”
Langley shrugged. and said, “I suppose. It’s worth a try, anyway.”
“Count the men off in fours, and have different shifts on guard duty,” Preacher suggested. “Change ’em out every three hours. That way everybody gets to rest.” He added, “I’ll be part of the first watch.”
“That’s not necessary. You were already up all night, then you went out and did all that scouting. You should get some sleep now.”
When the mountain man opened his mouth to object, Langley smiled and raised a hand to stop him. “It was your idea to take turns standing guard, Preacher.”
“All right, all right,” Preacher grumbled. “Reckon I am a mite tired. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.”
“You have more strength and vitality than any five men here put together. But go and rest, anyway. I’ll arrange the guard details. There’s a small extra room in my living quarters with a bunk in it. Why don’t you go there and lie down?”
“Figured I’d just find a corner somewhere and curl up.” If it was good enough for Dog, it was good enough for Preacher.
“There’s no need for you to do that,” Langley insisted. “Go sleep on a real bed.”
That would feel sort of odd to a man accustomed to such a rugged life as he was, thought Preacher, but he supposed he could give it a try. He nodded his thanks and started toward the trading post.
Judith stood on the porch, resting her hands on the railing. “Can I do something for you, Preacher?”
“Your husband’s settin’ up guard shifts. “We only need about a dozen men at a time keepin’ an eye out for the Blackfeet. So the rest of us are gonna get some shut-eye. Mr. Langley said I could use the spare room in your livin’ quarters.”
“Of course. I’ll show you where it is.” She smiled. “I hope you don’t expect too much. It’s really not very fancy.”
“I wouldn’t know what to do if it was. My idea of fancy is any piece of ground without too many rocks in it.”
The trading post was empty as she led him into it. The men had already gotten everything they needed, at least for the moment.
Judith said, “It was very frightening last night, wasn’t it? I mean, when the Indians attacked and all those fiery arrows came raining down on the fort.”
“I knew what you meant. And yeah, any man who wasn’t scared had to be just too blasted dumb to know what was goin’ on.”
“Even you were afraid?”
Preacher let out a snort. “I know I got this reputation as the big lobo wolf of these parts, but that don’t mean I never get scared. Reckon I get just as scared as anybody else when things are goin’ bad.”
Judith shook her head. “I really doubt that.”
“It’s the truth,” Preacher insisted. “Maybe the difference is that when things are goin’ bad, I feel like I got to put ’em right again, and that means doin’ something. Takin’ action. And once you start doin’ that in the middle of a fight, you’re too busy to remember that you’re scared. All you’re tryin’ to do is get from one chore to the next. From one minute to the next, I guess you could say.”
“That sounds like a good way to look at things. When the battle was going on, I . . . I didn’t do anything but sit in here and hug myself and pray that I would survive.” She stopped and turned to look intently at him. “I should have been out there helping. Then I would have been too busy to be frightened, like you said.”
Preacher shook his head. “Not in a fight like that. That was no place for you. Do you know how to load a gun?”
“Not really. I’ve seen Ethan do it, of course.”
�
�Get him to teach you,” Preacher suggested. “That way, if there’s ever a need for it, you can reload for the men while they’re fightin’.”
“All right. That sounds like a good idea.”
“You might even get him to show you how to shoot a rifle, too, after this is all over. It’s a mighty good skill to have out here.”
“You sound confident we’re all going to live through this siege.”
“Well, that’s another thing,” Preacher said. “If you go into a ruckus thinkin’ you’re gonna lose, chances are you will. As long as my heart’s beatin’ and my blood is flowin’, I don’t intend to give up, no matter what the odds against me.”
“I think you deserve that reputation you have. Come on.”
Judith took him through the living quarters to a door leading into a narrow space not much more than an enclosed lean-to on the back of the building. But as Langley had said, the room had a bunk in it, and when Preacher saw the straw mattress, he realized just how tired he really was.
“I’ll let you get some rest,” Judith said. “But before I go, there’s one thing . . .”
“Yes, ma’am?” Preacher prompted.
“You didn’t forget about the promise you made to me, did you?”
“No, ma’am,” he told her with a solemn shake of his head. “I sure didn’t.”
He didn’t mention the fact that he could have been killed in that wild melee on the parapet, in which case he would have been unable to keep the promise.
Judith seemed to be aware of it, anyway, because she reached into the pocket of her dress and took out a small pistol, which she held up to show him. “Just in case. I had Ethan load it for me. I told him I wanted to be able to fight if the Indians broke in here.”
“He believed that?”
“He acted like he did, anyway.”
Preacher nodded. Sometimes acting like you believed something was the only way to get through the bad times.
He wasn’t certain how long he had been asleep when something roused him. Not long enough, that was for sure. As soon as he’d stretched out on the bunk, he had fallen into a deep, dreamless slumber.
Now voices somewhere nearby had disturbed his sleep. They weren’t loud, but they held a definite undertone of anger as they went back and forth.
“—shouldn’t be here,” he heard Judith Langley say.
“I had to see you.”
The other voice was somewhat muffled, but Preacher didn’t have any trouble recognizing it. It belonged to Wiley Courtland.
“There’s no telling what’s going to happen,” Courtland went on. “We may not live through this.”
“Preacher says you should never go into a fight expecting to lose.”
“I don’t give a damn what Preacher says,” Courtland snapped.
The mountain man snorted as he sat up on the bunk. Courtland obviously didn’t give a damn about a lot of things. As Judith had told him, he shouldn’t be in the booshwa’s living quarters, at least not without Langley present, too. It just wasn’t proper.
Courtland continued, “I had to tell you how I feel about you, Judith.”
“I know that already, Wiley. You’ve made it perfectly clear, despite the fact that you should have accepted my decision graciously.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t be gracious when it comes to losing the woman I love.”
“Are you sure you love me? Or is it that you just don’t want to lose to Ethan?”
“I’ll show you how much I really love you,” Courtland said harshly.
Preacher didn’t like the sound of that. He swung his legs off the bunk and stood up. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was get mixed up deeper in that blasted romantic triangle, but he wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing while Courtland made advances to another man’s wife.
Judith said sharply, “Wiley, don’t.”
“You don’t mean that,” Courtland argued.
“I most certainly do. I love my husband.”
For the moment, Preacher stayed where he was. If Judith had cried out, or if he’d heard the sounds of a struggle, he would have stepped in to put a stop to it.
But evidently Judith’s rebuke of Courtland had made him hesitate. Preacher wasn’t going to interfere if he didn’t have to. Judith would probably be embarrassed if she knew he had overheard most of the conversation.
“Your husband doesn’t love you,” Courtland persisted. “If he did, he wouldn’t have dragged you out here to this godforsaken wilderness where you’re bound to be killed.”
“Ethan swore he’d protect me, and I believe him. The job was too good to turn down. He’s going to be an important man in the fur company someday.”
Courtland laughed. It was an ugly sound that grated on Preacher’s ears.
“You know better than that.” Courtland smirked. “He’ll never be more than a flunky stuck in some out-of-the-way trading post. If you stay with him, you’ll grow old before your time from all the hard work and danger. And that’s if you survive the Indians and the wild animals and the terrible weather.”
“And what could you offer me?” Judith asked. “You’re a trader now, too, only in horses instead of furs.”
“That horse herd was just an excuse to come out here and find you.”
Preacher heard Judith’s quick intake of breath.
“Then it’s true?” she asked. “You knew I was here all along, like Ethan said?”
“Of course I knew! I asked around until I found out about Langley taking the job with the fur company, and it wasn’t difficult to find out where he’d been sent. Don’t mistake what I’m saying. I plan to make a nice profit on the horses. But the real reason I came is so I can take you back to St. Louis with me. You’ll be safe there, and I can give you a comfortable life.”
“I . . . I have a life.” Judith’s voice trembled with emotion. “My life is here, with Ethan.”
“You’re wrong. I’m taking you back. We can leave now, today, while the savages are gone. I don’t care about the horses anymore. I’ll tell Otis to get whatever he can for them and send me my share of the profits. The only important thing is that you’ll be with me, where you belong.”
Preacher heard feet moving on the puncheon floor and figured Judith was backing away from Courtland.
“You’re insane,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Wiley. For one thing, Preacher says it’s not safe to leave the fort, even though the Indians have withdrawn for the moment.”
“The Indians are gone!” Courtland insisted. “And if we move fast enough, we’ll be far away from here before they ever come back. They won’t bother us.”
“I don’t care! I’m married. I won’t leave my husband!”
“You will! If I have to drag you—”
Judith cried out then, as Preacher had expected her to earlier. Like it or not, his interference couldn’t be postponed any longer. He opened the door and stepped into the main room of the living quarters.
Courtland and Judith stood beside the table. His hands were clamped tightly on her upper arms, and she was shaking her head as she tried to pull free from his grip. Her face was pale with fear.
Preacher crossed his arms. “That’s about enough.”
CHAPTER 27
Courtland’s head jerked around toward the mountain man, grimacing. “Preacher. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I reckon you didn’t,” Preacher said in a flat, hard voice.
“Look, my friend, this is none of your business. It’s between the lady and me.”
“When I see somebody treatin’ a woman rough, I make it my business. Let go of her.”
“I’m not hurting her—”
Preacher took a step closer. “I said let go.”
Courtland took his hands away from Judith’s arms and moved back.
As soon as she was free, her hand dipped swiftly into her pocket and came up with the little pistol she had shown Preacher earlier. She pulled back the hammer as she lifted the gun
and pointed it at Courtland’s face. His eyes widened as he found himself staring down the weapon’s barrel no more than six inches away. “Judith, don’t!” he exclaimed. “For God’s sake—”
“I don’t blame you for wantin’ to shoot him, ma’am,” Preacher broke in, “but it might be a good idea to hold off on it. We’re liable to need every man we got when Red Knife shows up again.” He could see how tense her finger was on the trigger.
Courtland was mighty close to death, and he seemed to know it, too. His face had gone almost as pale as his hair.
Judith drew in a deep breath and lowered the pistol. Carefully, she let the hammer back down. “Get out of here, Wiley. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“You don’t mean that.” A note of desperation came into Courtland’s voice as he spoke.
“I mean every word of it,” Judith insisted. “I was willing to accept you as a friend. I wanted to be fair to you. But you’ve forfeited all that by coming here today and behaving like you did. I see now that we can’t be friends after all.”
“Of course we can—”
“No.” The finality in Judith’s tone meant there wouldn’t be any more argument.
Courtland realized that and his features hardened into a taut, angry mask. “All right,” he snapped. “If you’re sure that’s the way you want it.”
“It is,” Judith said.
“I hope you don’t have cause to regret that decision someday. Someday soon.”
Preacher said, “I think the lady told you to get out.”
“I’m going.” Courtland gave Judith one more hard look, then turned and stalked out of the living quarters.
Preacher heard his footsteps thudding heavily on the floor in the trading post, then the front door opened. A second later, it slammed behind Courtland.
Judith went pale and started to tremble. She had been holding her emotions in check while Courtland was there. “I . . . I never expected him to do something like that. I knew it bothered him that I chose Ethan over him, but I really did hope that . . . that we could be friends . . .”
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