CHAPTER 30
Standing in his usual place at the bar, Louis Longmont cocked an eyebrow when Smoke walked in with Preacher, Eagle-Eye, Ace, and Chance. As usual, the gambler looked elegant doing it. “Quite the entourage, Smoke.”
“You mean these fellas?” Smoke asked with a grin. “Yeah, they started following me around, and I can’t get rid of them.”
Preacher said, “You go to callin’ us an on-tour . . . on-tore . . . whatever fancy two-bit word it was you was a-flingin’ around, and we’ll just leave. Ain’t that right, Eagle-Eye?”
“Not just yet,” said Eagle-Eye. “I ain’t never had a drink in no fancy French saloon.”
“Then allow me to get you one, mon ami,” Louis said. “That means my friend.”
“I know that. I dealt with enough French-Canadian trappers to pick up a little of the lingo. They’d come over the border sometimes into Montana to pick up supplies at my tradin’ post.”
“This is Eagle-Eye Callahan, an old friend of Preacher’s.” Smoke didn’t mention anything about how Eagle-Eye and Preacher had almost wound up as mortal enemies. That was over and done with . . . he hoped. “And these youngsters are Ace and Chance Jensen.”
Louis gave him another of those quizzical looks. “Long-lost relatives?”
“Not that we know of,” Ace said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Longmont. We’ve heard a lot about you from Smoke.”
“And some of it might even be true,” Louis said with a twinkle in his eye. “It’s not lunchtime yet, so I assume you don’t want alcoholic drinks, but I have some fine Creole coffee in the pot. With chicory, molasses, and cream, it’ll warm you up on a cold day like today.”
“Sounds good to me,” Smoke said.
“Johnny, Creole coffees all around,” Louis said to the bartender. “We’ll be at the rear table.”
The six men took seats around the table, and Johnny soon had steaming cups of the rich, dark concoction in front of them.
Eagle-Eye sampled his and smacked his lips. “Dang, that is pretty good. Might be even better with a shot of whiskey in it. Reckon I can wait until later, though.”
Preacher said, “Smoke, you best talk to Sally about takin’ in all them orphans. She might not want to be crowded outta house and home that way.”
“I don’t think she’ll mind. Anyway, I already made the offer, so it’s too late to take it back now.”
Louis turned to Ace and Chance. “Tell me about yourselves, gentlemen. What brings you to Big Rock?”
“We came here with Eagle-Eye,” Ace explained. “The three of us sort of fell in together.”
Eagle-Eye snorted. “This youngster’s bein’ too modest. Him and his brother run off a bunch of no-good scoundrels who were trying to rob me. Those owlhoots likely woulda killed me if it hadn’t been for these two.”
“Sounds like the sort of thing you would have done, Smoke,” Louis pointed out.
“More than likely,” Smoke agreed. “I never liked to see anybody being ganged up on.”
Chance said, “When we found out Eagle-Eye was on his way to Smoke’s ranch, it was one more reason to throw in with him. We all got acquainted last year down in Texas.”
“I remember you telling me about that, Smoke,” Louis said. “That was around Christmas time, too, wasn’t it?”
Smoke grinned again. “Christmases are usually pretty eventful. I’m hoping this one won’t be.”
“Except for havin’ a passel o’ orphans runnin’ around,” said Preacher.
“Well, yeah, there’s that.”
The men sat and enjoyed their coffee for awhile, mostly in silence. None of them tended toward meaningless chatter.
All six of them quickly came to their feet as Sally came into the saloon and looked around.
Her face lit up with a smile as she started across the room toward them, stopping at their table. “Such gallant gentlemen. Any woman would be glad to see such a group welcoming her.”
Louis pulled a chair over from a nearby table. “Please join us. Would you care for Creole coffee?”
“That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
Louis signaled to Johnny McVey, who brought over another cup of the savory brew. Sally took a sip from the cup and sighed in satisfaction.
Smoke asked, “Did your meeting go all right?”
“Yes, it did. Everything is ready, or at least it will be by Christmas Eve. This should be one of the best celebrations ever.” She paused, then added, “I hear that the train is stuck here because of deep snow in the passes, so there’ll be even more people than usual on hand for it.”
“Um, about that . . .” Smoke began.
Before he could go on, the door of the saloon opened and another shapely female figure entered the establishment. He recognized Miss Halliday from the Orphan Train. She saw the group at the rear table and started toward them just as Sally had done a few minutes earlier.
Seeing the attention of all six men diverted toward the doorway, Sally half-turned in her chair to see what was going on. The sight of the beautiful, auburn-haired young woman who was obviously headed their way made her look at Smoke and raise her eyebrows.
Chance was the first one on his feet. “Miss Halliday, it’s so good to see you again.”
“You, too, Mr. Jensen. And the other Misters Jensen and your friends.”
“I’m Sally Jensen,” Sally said. “Smoke’s wife.”
Miss Halliday extended a gloved hand. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Jensen. I’m Mercy Halliday, from the Children’s Aid Society.”
“I’ve heard of your group. You do such good work, finding new homes for all those children.” Sally paused as realization dawned on her face. “Do you mean to tell me that you have a group of orphans here in Big Rock right now?”
Mercy nodded. “That’s right. We were on our way to Sacramento with twenty children, until the Lord intervened with that magnificent snowfall. At first, we thought we would just wait here until we could resume our journey on the railroad, but then my fellow Society members and I realized we could just do our work here.”
“Find homes for the children, you mean?” Sally smiled. “That’s a fine idea! There are a lot of wonderful families in this valley, and I’m sure some of them would welcome new additions with love and open arms.”
Mercy nodded toward Smoke. “And of course, your husband’s kind offer just made it that much easier to put our new plan into action.”
“My husband’s offer?” Sally glanced at Smoke. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss Halliday.”
Smoke said, “Well, that’s what I was about to tell you.”
“Mr. Jensen said that some of the children could stay at your ranch,” Mercy explained. “Actually, we were hoping that all of them might be able to stay with you while we’re arranging their adoptions.”
“Twenty children?” Sally’s friendly smile never budged, but Smoke saw concern flash in her eyes. However, the reaction was fleeting. Her glance in his direction told him they would talk about it later, but her voice was sincere as she told Mercy, “I think that’s a wonderful idea. We’ll find the room for them. Some of the older boys might like to stay in the bunkhouse with our ranch hands. We don’t have a full crew at this time of year, so there are empty bunks out there, as well as the guest rooms in the house.”
“Really? Thank you so much, Mrs. Jensen.” Mercy’s smile was dazzling.
At least Chance seemed to think so.
Smoke noted the way the younger man was looking at her then asked, “Will the other two folks who are traveling with you be staying with us, as well?”
“Peter and Grace?” Mercy shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Peter insists that they stay here in town at the hotel. I’ll be looking after the children by myself.”
“Not by yourself,” Sally corrected her. “You’ll have me helping you, and a whole crew of cowboys, to boot.” She laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ll see to it that they don’t teach t
he children how to cuss and chew tobacco!”
* * *
Ray Morley lounged against the bar in the Brown Dirt Cowboy Saloon with a mug of beer in front of him. The lean, dark-faced outlaw looked around the room. Without pausing or giving any indication that he knew them, his eyes passed over the couple other members of Jim Bleeker’s private army sitting at one of the tables and nursing drinks. Several more men from the group of killers had drifted into town over the past few hours, coming in individually or in pairs so they wouldn’t attract any attention.
The rest of the men and Bleeker were still out at the ranch they had taken over. He didn’t want to come into Big Rock because of the possibility that Monte Carson might spot him and recognize him before the gang was ready to strike. Morley was there to scout out the situation and get word back to Bleeker so they could plan their attack.
So far, the operation Bleeker had in mind looked like quite a challenge. Big Rock was full of people who had come in for the holidays, and many of them were ranchers and cowboys who were armed and knew how to use their guns.
There was a big difference, though, between hombres who used their guns primarily to shoot snakes, mountain lions, and other varmints, and professional killers accustomed to ending the lives of other men. In a gun battle, one member of Bleeker’s gang was worth a dozen or more settlers.
Morley had heard considerable talk around town about the big party that was going to take place on Christmas Eve. It seemed to him that would be the perfect time to strike. Everybody would be gathered in one place, rather than scattered around town where opposition would be harder to root out. Not only that, but a lot of women and kids would be on hand, and their menfolk would be less likely to fight back if they knew that stray bullets would be flying around their loved ones. They would surrender in order to save their families.
Hell, they would probably turn Monte Carson over to Bleeker if it meant protecting the town!
Of course, in the long run that wouldn’t do them much good, since Bleeker intended to loot Big Rock and burn it to the ground right in front of Carson’s eyes before killing him.
Morley picked up his beer and drained the last of it.
The bartender, a bald, bullet-headed man in a stained apron, asked him, “Want another, mister?”
“No,” Morley replied with a shake of his head. “I think I’ve got everything I need for now. Thanks anyway.”
* * *
The woman sitting in a corner of the train station waiting room wore a bonnet and had the collar of her overcoat turned up, so not much of her face was visible. The bonnet contained and concealed a thick mass of lustrous, raven curls, and the collar hid lovely features with a touch of the exotic about them.
A small carpetbag at her feet contained all her belongings, everything she had brought with her from New York. It had taken most of her remaining funds to purchase the ticket, so she hadn’t been able to afford to eat much during the trip.
That didn’t matter. She had her hate to sustain her.
She had been one of the first passengers off the train, once it was apparent that it wasn’t going on but was stopping. She had found the out of the way corner and waited. Dark eyes alertly watched the comings and goings in the depot. She saw the group of children come in, shepherded by two women and a man.
A short time later, a man wearing an overcoat and a fedora walked in after them, and although he tried to be unobtrusive about it, the woman in the corner saw the way he was watching the children and their escorts. Something about them was of great interest to the man in the fedora.
The younger of the two women, perhaps? The prettier one, with auburn hair? If the man in the fedora was attracted to her, that was interesting. Very interesting indeed. The woman in the corner thought it might be something she could use against him. Something to make him realize what a bad mistake he had made when he’d humiliated her and forced her to flee.
For a detective, Ed Rinehart was a fool, thought Seraphine DuMille.
The woman who was going to kill him was twenty feet away . . . and he had no idea.
CHAPTER 31
Rounding up twenty orphans wasn’t quite as big a job as putting together a herd of cattle for a trail drive, thought Smoke dryly a while later, but it had its challenges.
For one thing, there was the matter of transporting them out to the Sugarloaf. He solved that by renting a couple wagons at the local livery stable. He would tie his saddle horse on the back of one of the wagons and drive that one. Ace had volunteered to handle the team hitched to the other vehicle.
It took some work, just to get that many youngsters from one place to another without any of them running off. Not that they were bad kids or that any of them wanted to run away and not come back. They were just exuberant and full of energy. They were in a new place, surrounded by new things, and they wanted to take in all of it at once. Getting them out of the depot and into the wagons took some work.
Luckily, Smoke had plenty of help. Mercy Halliday was used to dealing with the children, of course, and Ace and Chance were young and had plenty of energy of their own. Chance, especially, was eager to pitch in, and Smoke had no doubt that was because he wanted to impress Mercy.
Sally proved to be good with the little ones—she had been a school teacher—despite not having any of her own yet. Even Preacher and Eagle-Eye lent a hand, although at their age they didn’t have the patience to do much.
Peter Gallagher stood by with a dour expression on his face. When the orphans were all loaded onto the wagons, he said, “I’m still not sure this is a good idea. I don’t like letting these young ones out of my sight.”
“You’re welcome to come along with us and stay out at the Sugarloaf,” Smoke told him, being cheerful about it despite the fact that he didn’t like Gallagher very much. “We’ll sure find room for you, although it might have to be out in the bunkhouse.”
A little shudder ran through Gallagher as he shook his head. “No, thanks. My wife and I will remain here in civilization.” He looked around at Big Rock. “Or what passes for it.”
“The ranch is only a few miles out of town,” Smoke pointed out. “But you do what you think is best, Mr. Gallagher.” Not having the sour-faced hombre around was sort of like dodging a bullet, he thought. He couldn’t complain about that.
A few feet away, Grace Gallagher was saying to Mercy, “I wish I was coming along with you, dear. I feel terrible about saddling you with the responsibility of all of the children. But Peter insists that we’re staying here at the hotel.”
“That’s all right,” Mercy assured her. “I’ll have lots of help. Mrs. Jensen promised me that their cowboys will be glad to look after the older boys. They can even teach the boys some of the things they’ll need to know if they’re going to live and work here in the West. This seems almost like a perfect arrangement to me. It was a real stroke of luck when Mr. Jensen made his generous offer.”
Smoke was looking around to make sure all the youngsters were on the wagons when a voice asked from behind him, “What in blazes is all this?”
Smoke turned and smiled at Sheriff Monte Carson. “We’re going to have some company for a while out at the Sugarloaf, Monte,” he explained. “These children are orphans who are going to find new homes here in the valley. They’ll be staying with us until all the arrangements are made.”
“Yeah, I heard something about that from Sam Bailey a few minutes ago,” Monte said. “Mighty nice of you taking them in like this, Smoke. I reckon it was Sally’s idea?”
From the seat of the lead wagon, where she was already sitting, Sally said, “Not at all. Smoke came up with this all on his own, Monte. But I think it’s an excellent idea.”
“Well, good luck to you.” The sheriff added under his breath to Smoke, “You’re probably going to need it.”
Ace was about to climb to the seat of the second wagon when his brother shouldered him aside.
“I’ll take this one,” Chance declared.
; “I already said I’d drive,” Ace objected.
“Yeah, but I decided I want to do it.” Chance looked over Ace’s shoulder as he spoke.
Ace looked around and saw Mercy Halliday coming toward them. Understanding dawned on his face. “Oh.”
“Just go see to the horses, why don’t you?” suggested Chance.
Ace chuckled and shook his head. “Fine by me, if you’re interested in a gal who has twenty kids.”
“They’re not her kids.”
“They are right now.”
Chance frowned as Ace walked toward the back of the wagon. His brother might have a point there. But she was good-looking enough to make the risk worthwhile.
She hadn’t yet reached the wagon when a tall, lean man strode up alongside her. Chance’s frown deepened as she stopped and smiled at the stranger. The two of them started talking.
Ed Rinehart said, “So you’re on your way out to Jensen’s ranch, I see.”
“That’s right,” Mercy replied.
Rinehart had been asking around town, and he’d heard all about how Smoke Jensen was a famous gunfighter who had taken on nineteen outlaws at once in an epic battle and killed all of them. And that was only one of his many exploits.
“I wonder if he might have room for one more,” mused Rinehart.
Mercy smiled and cocked her head slightly to the side as she asked, “You need a place to stay, too?”
“With people being stuck here from the train, the hotel has filled up,” Rinehart explained. That wasn’t completely true. He might have been able to share a room with another male traveler, but he didn’t want to let the children that far out of his sight.
Not to mention, he didn’t care much for the idea of letting Mercy go out there by herself, either.
“I don’t know,” she said, “but I can introduce you to Mr. Jensen and you can talk to him about it.”
Rinehart nodded. “That would be fine. I appreciate it.”
Before Smoke could climb up on the lead wagon, Mercy and a man he hadn’t met approached. He recalled seeing the hombre in the train station earlier but hadn’t been aware that he had any connection to her.
A Colorado Christmas Page 21