Rimfire

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Rimfire Page 8

by William W. Johnstone


  “Covering up?” Chance repeated. “We want to find the cheat as much as you do!” He flung out a hand in frustration. “He’s saddled me with that stubborn woman—” Chance stopped short as Ace winced, but it was too late. The damage was done.

  “What woman?” Foley asked. His tone made it clear he wasn’t going to let them get away with not answering.

  “Umm . . . Haggarty was traveling with a woman,” Chance said. “He left her behind when he got off the boat.”

  “A gambler’s woman, eh?” Foley’s tone made it clear what he thought of such a person.

  Ace said, “It’s not really like that. Miss Ling . . . she’s Chinese.”

  The captain’s bushy white eyebrows rose. “A Celestial? I don’t recall seeing one on the boat.”

  “He probably kept her face covered when they were boarding,” Ace said. “Then she stayed in the cabin. You see, she claims that she was Haggarty’s . . . slave.”

  Surprise and anger appeared on Foley’s face. He exclaimed, “By God, there are no slaves on my boat! Or anywhere else in this country, for that matter.”

  Chance said, “We tried explaining that to her, but she wasn’t willing to listen. She’s got it in her head that Haggarty owned her.”

  The captain frowned. “Wait a minute. You said ‘owned’?”

  “Yeah.” Chance shook his head. “Now she figures she belongs to me. Haggarty told her he was giving her to me to settle a bet he lost in a poker game last night.”

  “That’s insane!”

  “You try convincing her of that. My brother and I haven’t had any luck at it.”

  With an exasperated sigh, Foley took off his cap and scratched at his head, much like Chance had done a few minutes earlier out of sheer frustration. As the riverboat man clapped his cap back on, he said, “There’s one good thing about this whole mess.”

  “What’s that?” asked Ace.

  “We’ll be docking at Fort Benton in less than an hour, and I can wash my hands of the affair.”

  “But Captain—” Chance began.

  Foley just shook his head. “That Celestial woman, whoever or whatever she is, is your problem now, Jensen.”

  * * *

  Ling was still sitting on the bunk when Ace and Chance came into the cabin a few minutes later. She didn’t appear to have moved since they’d left. She looked up at them with a mixture of fear and anticipation on her lovely face. “You came back.”

  “Of course we did,” Chance replied. “We told you we would, didn’t we?”

  “Many men have told this one what they would do, but seldom did those things ever happen.”

  “Well, we do what we say we’re gonna do,” Chance insisted.

  “And what is that?” she asked, gazing at him innocently.

  “I, uh . . . Ace, what are we going to do?”

  “We’ll all get off the boat in Fort Benton, I guess, since that’s as far as it goes,” Ace said. “Unless you’d rather go back to St. Louis, Miss Ling. If you would, we’d be glad to pay for your return passage.”

  She looked frightened again as she shook her head in response. “This one does not know anyone in St. Louis. It would be impossible for this one to live there.”

  “You could get a job,” said Chance. “Maybe work as a maid or something like that.”

  Ling drew in a deep breath and said solemnly, “I would have to go to one of the houses where . . . where women who have no one and nowhere else to go must find their fate.”

  Ace noticed that for the first time she didn’t refer to herself as “this one.” He took that to be an indication of how upset and afraid she was. Without hesitation he told her, “We’re not going to let that happen.”

  Chance lowered his voice and said to his brother, “Wait a minute. What’s to keep the same thing from happening if she stays in Fort Benton?”

  “We’ll be there to make sure it doesn’t.”

  “I thought we were going to be moving on pretty soon.”

  “We will when we can,” Ace said. “For now, it’s more important that we get this settled. We can get Miss Ling a hotel room, so she’ll have a safe place to stay.”

  She spoke up, saying, “If there is a stable, this one can sleep there with the horses.”

  “You’re not sleeping with the horses,” Ace told her with a shake of his head. “You’ll have a decent hotel room, and we’ll find you a good job before we ride out.”

  “You cannot leave without taking this one with you!”

  “Now, dadgum it,” Chance said, “there’s no telling where we’re going, and we can’t be dragging around a woman!”

  “This one will be no trouble. This one will do whatever she is told.” She lowered her eyes. “This one is obedient.”

  “Blast it, that’s not it. Life on the trail is just too rough for a woman.”

  Ling shook her head. “It cannot be worse than some of the things this one has already endured.”

  “All right. Let’s just not worry about it right now. Chance and I will gather up our gear, so we’ll be ready to get off the boat when it reaches Fort Benton.”

  Ling nodded and settled the canvas bag in her lap. “This one is ready.”

  The Jensen brothers didn’t have much packing to do. Most of their possessions were still in their warbags. By the time the riverboat’s steam whistle let out a shrill blast to alert passengers of the boat’s arrival, Ace and Chance had their bags in one hand and their rifles in the other.

  Ling stood up from the bunk. Suddenly, she gave in to impulse and hugged both of them, first Ace and then Chance. “Thank you,” she murmured as she clung to Chance. “This one has always wished for such a kind master.”

  With his hands full, Chance couldn’t pry her loose from him. All he could do was slowly turn red and say, “I, uh, I’m not your master, Ling. We keep trying to get that in your head. But I’ll treat you nice as long as we’re traveling together, I promise you that.”

  “It is all this one has ever hoped for.” She let go of him, stepped back, and smiled. “Now, shall we go see this place Montana?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Fort Benton was the oldest settlement in the territory, having been established in 1847 by the American Fur Company as an outpost for fur trappers and traders.

  Nearly four decades later, it was a small but thriving community located on a bend of the Missouri River. The terrain on both sides of the stream was flat, but numerous low gray hills and buttes were visible not far away. As the highest navigable point on the river, it served as the supply center for local mining interests as well as for the sprawling cattle ranches that had been established in the territory during the past twenty years.

  A sturdy wharf had been built along the waterfront so the riverboats would have a place to dock. With the skill of a longtime river man, Captain Foley brought the Missouri Belle next to the wharf. Crewmen were waiting on deck to jump the narrow gap to the dock and tie the boat to sturdy wooden pilings, making the vessel fast with thick ropes.

  Up in the pilothouse, Foley grasped the rope attached to the whistle and gave it another tug. Townspeople waiting on the dock greeted the blast with cheers. The arrival of a boat was a welcome break in the all-too-frequent monotony of frontier life.

  Once the boat was tied up, crewmen laid the gangplank in place so passengers could disembark and others could board. The Missouri Belle would remain in Fort Benton for several hours as cargo was unloaded. Before the day was over, however, it would be steaming downriver again.

  Ling looked excited as she stood on the deck gazing at the town.

  It really wasn’t that much to see, thought Ace, but she seemed pleased that they were here. It could be the start of a new life for her . . . if she was willing to accept it.

  The Jensen brothers started toward the gangplank. Ling hung back, and Chance paused to motion her forward with the hand that held his rifle. “Come on.”

  “This one will follow, as befits her lowly position.”
<
br />   Chance shook his head. “No, you’re going down the gangplank with us.”

  “Chance is right,” said Ace. “You’re as good as anybody, and it’s time you started acting like it.”

  Judging by her baffled expression, Ling still couldn’t comprehend that concept, but the boys insisted and she moved up between them. The gangplank was wide enough for all three to walk down it together.

  “This is very . . . odd,” Ling murmured.

  “You’d better get used to it,” Chance said. “There’s not going to be any more of that crazy business about being a slave.”

  She might have wanted to argue but didn’t. She was too busy looking around at the hustle and bustle of the busy river settlement.

  Burly men were already unloading the cargo from the riverboat’s deck. People came off the boat and greeted loved ones with hugs and kisses. Friends shook hands and slapped each other on the back. New passengers boarded, sometimes after tearful good-byes with relatives they were leaving behind.

  “Let’s get out of the way and put our gear down,” Ace said, “and then I can go back aboard and get our horses.”

  Normally they would have saddled the horses and led them off the boat when they disembarked, but they had Ling to keep up with, too. She was such an innocent that the brothers didn’t want her wandering off on her own. She probably wouldn’t have gotten lost in the small town, but a young woman could easily find herself in trouble in a rough frontier settlement.

  They found a good spot in front of a hardware store for Chance and Ling to wait.

  Ace set his warbag down and leaned his Winchester against the wall of the building. “I’ll be back.” He headed to the boat to fetch his big chestnut horse and Chance’s cream-colored gelding.

  Chance had to smile as he watched Ling looking around with great interest at the town and the passersby. “You must have seen some big cities before. Where did the boat land when you came over from China? San Francisco?”

  “That is right. This one has been to Denver as well, and a place called O . . . Omaha.”

  “I’m not sure what’s so fascinating about a place like Fort Benton, then.”

  “If what you say is true, this is the first place I have ever been where I was not a slave.” Her voice held a tone of awe as she spoke those words, as if she could hardly believe them.

  Chance told her solemnly, “It’s true, all right. You’re no longer a slave, Ling. You’re free to come and go as you please.”

  She looked quickly at him. “But it pleases me to be with you, Mr. Chance.”

  “That’s all right, I suppose . . . for now. We’ll have to figure somehow for you to make your way in the world without . . . without a master. For the time being, though, Ace and I will look after you.”

  “This one is so very grateful,” Ling said.

  The adoration on her face and in her voice made Chance a mite uncomfortable. He’d already felt the stirrings of desire when she’d hugged him earlier. He had never been good at resisting such temptations. In such a case, however, he knew it would be wrong for him to take advantage of such a trusting soul. Ace might not think Chance had much of a conscience, but he knew he had to draw the line somewhere, every now and then.

  “Well, look here, Banjo. Looks like there’s a brand-new China gal come to work in Miss Hettie’s house.” The voice was high-pitched and a little squeaky, but it definitely belonged to a man.

  Chance looked around to see two men standing nearby in the street, staring at him and Ling.

  Well, they were staring at Ling, to be honest, he thought. He couldn’t really blame them. Even in the unflattering, pajama-like clothing, she was pretty enough to catch any man’s eye.

  The two men were unimpressive specimens. One was around medium height, with a sharply angled face that looked like it had been hacked out of wood with a dull hatchet. Carrot-colored hair stuck out from under a battered, stained hat worn with a Montana pinch in the crown.

  The other hombre was shorter and stockier but just as roughly dressed. His red, swollen nose indicated that he was either a heavy drinker or someone had just punched him. Chance figured rotgut was to blame for the condition.

  “You’re right, Luther,” the shorter man said, which pegged him as Banjo. “Gal who looks like her ought to make money hand over fist once she goes to work for Miss Hettie.”

  Ling moved closer to Chance and said quietly, “This one does not like those men looking at her.”

  “Hey, she speaks English!” Luther exclaimed. “That’s even better. She’ll understand when fellas tell her what they want her to do. They won’t have to use Injun sign language.”

  Chance felt anger welling up inside him and tightened the reins on his temper. “You gents might be better off to just move along now.”

  Luther squinted at him. “Are you tellin’ us what to do, boy?”

  “Sounded to me like he was,” Banjo put in.

  Judging by their clothes, boots, and spurs, Chance thought they were probably cowboys from one of the ranches in the area. Heavy revolvers rode in holsters sagging from gun belts around their waists.

  He wasn’t afraid of a gunfight, even though the odds were against him, but he didn’t want to start anything while Ling was with him and might get in the way of a stray bullet, so he said the thing that either he or Ace always said when they found themselves in a situation like that. “Listen, fellas, we’re not looking for any trouble.”

  “We’re not lookin’ for trouble, neither,” said Banjo. “But we are lookin’ for a little lovin’, and I got me a hankerin’ for yaller meat. So why don’t you jus’ take the gal on over and get her set up with Miss Hettie, and we can commence to doin’ business.” He paused, then added, “Don’t worry, kid. I’m sure you’ll get your cut.”

  Luther chuckled and put in, “And it ain’t like you’re sellin’ your sister or somethin’.”

  Normally, Chance would have taken hold of Ling’s arm and steered her away, but with two warbags and two Winchesters to carry, he didn’t think he could do that. They would have to wait until Ace got back from the boat with their horses. He glanced along the street toward the wharf, thinking that he might see his brother coming, but there was no sign of Ace.

  Luther and Banjo swaggered closer. Chance could smell the whiskey on them.

  Luther planted himself in front of Chance and hooked his thumbs in his gun belt while Banjo circled, getting around on Ling’s other side. Their movements showed that even drunk, they knew what they doing when it came to starting trouble.

  “Son, where’d you get this gal, anyway?” Luther asked. “Don’t see all that many Chinamen around these parts.”

  Banjo snickered. “She ain’t a China man. She’s a China gal. You’re blinder ’n an ol’ bat if you can’t tell that, Luther, even in that getup she’s got on.”

  “Oh, I can tell,” Luther said. “I wouldn’t mind gettin’ a closer look, though, just so’s I could make sure.”

  “How close? The length o’ your—”

  “That’s enough,” Chance snapped. “You’ve had your fun. It’s time for you to move on.”

  Luther’s lips pulled back from his rotten teeth in a leering grin as he leaned closer. “Sonny boy, we ain’t even started havin’ our fun yet.”

  “But we’re gonna,” said Banjo as he reached out with a grimy hand and tried to touch Ling’s glossy, raven hair.

  She let out a soft little cry and pulled away from him.

  Chance turned toward Banjo. “Hey, leave her alone—” He broke off as he realized that he had fallen for the shorter man’s feint. From the corner of his eye, he spotted movement and tried to twist back toward Luther, but he was too late. He saw Luther’s big, knobby-knuckled fist coming at him just before it landed on his jaw. The punch felt like the kick of a mule as it sent him flying backwards.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It didn’t take Ace long to saddle the two horses. He led them across the broad gangplank used for unloading carg
o onto the wharf, and then onto the hard-packed dirt street that ran along the riverfront. The first order of business would be to find a stable for the animals, then they could look for a suitable hotel where he, Chance, and Ling could stay while they figured out what to do about the young woman’s situation.

  She wanted to travel with them, and of course, logically, they could to afford to buy her a horse and saddle and more appropriate clothes for riding . . . assuming she was able to ride. Ace supposed they could get a buggy for her to drive, but that didn’t seem very feasible to him. There were plenty of places out there where a buggy couldn’t go.

  Anyway, it wouldn’t be proper by any stretch of the imagination for a young woman to be traipsing around the frontier with a couple young men unless she was married to one of them. Neither he nor Chance was in the market for a bride!

  Ace hadn’t come up with any answers as he approached the hardware store where he had left Chance and Ling. He was so deep in thought that at first he didn’t notice the commotion taking place ahead of him. Suddenly, he realized people were running in that direction and shouting excitedly. He frowned as he craned his neck and tried to see what was going on.

  He caught a glimpse of his brother just as Chance slammed a fist into the face of a rawboned cowboy. Chance’s hat had been knocked off, and his clothes were covered with dust like he’d been rolling around in the street. Clearly the fight had been going on for several moments.

  Another man leaped at Chance from behind and grabbed his arms, pinning them to his sides. “I got the sumbitch, Luther! Beat him good!”

  “Hang on to him, Banjo!” the rawboned cowboy responded as he set himself and moved in, fists cocked to deliver pounding punishment to Chance.

  Ace wasn’t going to let that happen to his brother. He dropped the horses’ reins and charged forward, shouldering aside some of the gathering crowd as he tried to reach Chance.

  As Ace closed in, Ling stepped up behind the man holding on to Chance. Using both hands, she swung the canvas bag containing her belongings and yelled, “Unhand my master!” The bag thudded against the man’s head and sent his hat flying.

 

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