The Jensen Brand

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The Jensen Brand Page 15

by William W. Johnstone


  Pearlie’s eyes opened as far as they could go in a look of horror. “Good Lord, no!” he exclaimed. “I mean . . . it ain’t that she ain’t pretty . . . I mean . . . Good Lord! I’m old enough to be her pa! Pert near old enough to be her grandpap! Yours, too, you . . . you ornery little—”

  Louis held up a hand, palm out, to stop him. “I’ll take your word for it, Pearlie, since I never really assumed otherwise. But you should probably stop blustering now, or else I might start thinking thou doth protest too much.”

  “No need to talk fancy,” Pearlie said with a scowl.

  “Let’s talk plain, then,” Louis suggested. He looked at his sister. “What are the two of you doing here, Denny? From the sounds I heard while riding up here, it seemed a bit like a war had broken out.”

  “I was just practicing,” Denny replied, looking and sounding surly.

  Louis pointed to the gun on her hip. “With that?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. Anything wrong with that?”

  “Oh, I can think of any number of things, starting with the fact that Mother and Father wouldn’t like it.” Louis looked closer at the Colt. “That’s Father’s gun!”

  “Yes, it is. I’m damned good with it, too.”

  He sighed. “You don’t have to curse just to prove how tough you are, Denny.” He looked at Pearlie. “Or have you been teaching her that, too?”

  Pearlie opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Denny snapped, “Oh, leave him alone. He’s been a perfectly proper gentleman every second of the time we’ve spent together. And just so you’ll know, he argued very persistently about meeting me up here and helping me learn how to use a handgun. I practically had to force him to do it.”

  “Maybe he should have been a little more persistent. Are you going to invite me to get down off this horse?”

  “Why would I? This isn’t some social. We’re not having refreshments.”

  “Well, since I have just as much right to be here as you do . . .” Louis swung down from the saddle and stood holding the mare’s reins. “I noticed today that both of you were gone, and that made me realize I couldn’t remember seeing either of you around during long stretches over the past few days. That struck me as suspicious.”

  “How’d you follow us?” Pearlie asked.

  “I know a few things about following a trail. I used to listen to Preacher when I was young. My body may not be very strong in some respects, but there’s nothing wrong with my eyes. I found two sets of tracks heading in this general direction. They looked like they weren’t made at the same time, but that fit with the theory I developed that the two of you were meeting somewhere away from the ranch. Once I got close enough to hear the shots in the distance”—Louis shrugged—“it wasn’t difficult to find you.”

  “So now what are you going to do?” Denny asked. “Run and tattle to Ma and Pa?”

  “We’re not eight years old anymore, Denny. I figure whatever you’re doing is your own business.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  He grinned. “It may be your business, but I’m nosy enough to blackmail you into telling me what it’s about. You can explain it to me, or you can explain it to Mother and Father. It’s your choice.” He paused, then added, “And I should think you wouldn’t want to give Father anything extra to worry about, since he’s in the middle of recuperating from a very serious gunshot wound.”

  She glared at him. “You are a—”

  “I told you, you don’t have to curse. I know you’re a rough, tough cowgirl.”

  While Denny seethed, Pearlie slid his Winchester back into the scabbard strapped to his horse. “I’m gonna mosey on back and leave you two to hash this out amongst your ownselfs. Louis, I’d take it as a personal favor if you didn’t say nothin’ to Smoke about this.”

  “That’ll depend on what Denny has to say—unless she’s made you privy to her plan . . . ?”

  Pearlie shook his head. “She asked me to help her practice with that Colt. That’s all I know, and all I’m likely to know.” He untied his horse and mounted up. “See you young’uns back at the ranch.”

  As he started to ride off, Denny called after him, “Pearlie, tell my brother that I’m good with a gun!”

  Pearlie looked back. “She’s good, all right. Mighty good. But what else would you expect when it comes to gunhandlin’? She wears the Jensen brand.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Once Pearlie was out of sight, Louis looked at Denny and said, “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, it’s a crazy idea, and you should put it out of your head immediately.”

  “How do you know I’m thinking about doing anything except learning how to shoot better? That’s a good idea, not a crazy one. With somebody out there who has a grudge against Pa, and probably by extension everybody else on the Sugarloaf, it wouldn’t hurt if you learned how to handle a gun.”

  “You remember when I went out with old Rosston on the estate and he let me fire his fowling piece? It knocked me flat on my gluteus maximus. I thought you were going to pass out, you were laughing so hard.”

  Denny smiled. “It was a pretty funny sight, now that I think about it. You looked so shocked.”

  “That was enough gunplay to last me a lifetime. However, you’re trying to change the subject. I don’t believe for a second that self-defense is the only thing you have in mind by coming out here and firing off enough ammunition to supply a small army.”

  Denny shook her head and said stubbornly, “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  Louis regarded her with an intent expression for a long moment, then said, “You’re going after them, aren’t you?”

  “Going after . . . what? I don’t know what you mean.”

  Louis sighed. “Denny, you should have learned by now. You can lie with a good deal of success to just about anybody but me. You can’t lie to me. I always know when you attempt it.”

  “You just think you’re so smart,” she snapped. “You’re tricky, that’s all it is. You act like you know something you really don’t, and you fool people into admitting things. You’re cut out to be a lying, sneaking lawyer, all right. That’s your natural talent.” She snorted. “But it’s sure not a Jensen talent.”

  Louis’s face hardened in anger. “But killing people with a six-gun is?”

  “Well, it seems to be, and not just Pa, either. Look at Uncle Luke and Uncle Matt. Matt’s not even a Jensen by blood, but he took the name and he’s a man to stand aside from. Then there’s cousins Ace and Chance—”

  He held up a hand to stop her. “You’ve made your point. We Jensens are a violent bunch. But you’re just making my point for me. When something bothers you, Denny, you don’t wait for it to go away. You go after it and confront it. That man on the train had already passed us by. You could have let him go. Instead you went after him.”

  “The lecherous scoundrel had it coming,” Denny said.

  “Yes, in your opinion, anyway. And so do the men who ambushed Father and nearly killed him.”

  “Well, I’m glad that you understand that much, anyway.”

  “What I don’t understand is what you think you’re going to do about it.”

  Denny didn’t offer an explanation. For one thing, her plan wasn’t completely formed in her head. She still had some thinking to do about it. For another, if she told Louis even the notion that had come to her, he was liable to go to their parents and try to ruin everything. He didn’t have the right to do that, she thought. She was grown, and he couldn’t boss her around.

  “Just forget it,” she muttered as she turned away. “You’re right. I was just being reckless and impulsive, as usual. It’s not going to hurt anything for me to be able to handle a gun, though. If there’s more trouble in the future, that might come in handy.”

  “It might,” he admitted. “Although there are other people on this ranch who are good with guns. Very good.”

  “You can never have too many.” Denny reached for the
reins of her horse.

  Louis stopped her by asking, “Are you really any good?”

  Denny turned her head to squint at him. “Am I any good?” she repeated. “You see those cans on the ground?”

  “Yes . . .” Louis said dubiously.

  “Go over and put them on the fence posts.”

  “You’re not going to shoot at them while I’m over there, are you?”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

  He didn’t look completely convinced of that. Casting a few nervous glances in her direction, he did as she said and balanced four cans on top of the posts. Finished, he scurried back out of the line of fire. “There. What are you—”

  She turned her back to the fence and crossed her arms.

  “Denny? I thought—”

  Her turn and draw were almost too fast for the eye to follow. The gun in her hand exploded with flame and noise. Louis let out a shocked yell. Each of the four cans leaped from its post. As the last one flew up in the air, she fired twice more, and each time the can jumped higher before finally thudding to earth with its fellows.

  Louis’s eyes seemed about to bulge out of their sockets. Casually, Denny shucked the empty shells from the Colt’s cylinder. She blew through the barrel. It was a dime-novel thing to do, strictly for show to impress Louis. Then she began reloading.

  “I . . . I never saw such a thing,” he was able to say after a moment. “How did you . . . When did you . . . Just how long have you been practicing, anyway?”

  “Three days. It comes natural to me.” She closed the revolver’s cylinder. “I’m a Jensen, like Pearlie said.”

  “But that’s insane! No one ought to be able to shoot like that without years of practice!”

  “I’ll bet Pa could, the very first time he picked up a six-shooter,” Denny said. “Preacher always said Smoke was the best he’d ever seen—and that old mountain man had seen just about everything!”

  “Maybe. Maybe. But this . . . and you’re . . .”

  “You’re not about to say something about me being a girl, are you? I’m getting a mite tired of hearing that.”

  “I don’t care. It’s not natural.”

  “Tell Annie Oakley that.”

  Louis frowned. “Who?”

  “The girl sharpshooter in that Wild West show we saw in London,” Denny said.

  “Oh, yes. I remember. But that was a show, Denny. It wasn’t real life. No outlaws were shooting back at her.”

  “I told you, I’m not going after those rustlers. I’ll admit, I thought about it, but really, when you come right down to it . . . what could I do?” Denny motioned with her head. “Come on. Let’s get back.”

  Louis nodded slowly and moved over to get his horse. They mounted up and started to ride away from the line shack.

  “You sound like you’re being very sensible and reasonable,” Louis said. “I should be happy about that.”

  “But . . . ?”

  “But you worry me when you’re being sensible and reasonable, Denny. You really do.”

  As they rode, Louis promised not to say anything to Sally and Smoke about what Denny and Pearlie had been doing up at the old line shack. He even said he could understand if Denny wanted to keep practicing with the Colt, but he warned, “Sooner or later, Father’s going to want to know where his gun is. You’ll have to give it back to him.”

  Denny shrugged as she rocked along in the saddle. “I can always get another gun.”

  “That’s true. And yet another reason to worry.”

  He kept his word when they got back to the Sugarloaf headquarters. To anyone who might have noticed them, it looked like the siblings had come back from a ride together.

  Inez was waiting for them when they came into the house . . . or waiting for Denny, rather. The housekeeper said, “Your mama and papa want to see you upstairs, Señorita Denise. They asked me to tell you as soon as you came into the house.”

  Denny felt a worried shiver go through her. Was it possible her parents had discovered what she was up to? Louis hadn’t said anything about telling them his suspicions. When she glanced at him, he gave a tiny shrug and returned her look with a blank stare, as if he had no idea what it was about.

  There was only one way to find out. she said, “Gracias, Inez,” and headed up the stairs, taking off the gun belt on the way. She left it and the holstered Colt in her room, then went down the hall to her parents’ bedroom.

  A knock on the door brought Sally’s response: “Come in.”

  Denny opened the door and stepped into the room to find her mother sitting in a rocking chair next to the bed while Smoke was propped up on pillows, looking stronger than he had that morning before she rode out. He was still quite pale, especially for him, and she knew he had a ways to go before he recovered from that serious wound.

  “Where have you been all day, Denny?” Sally asked. “It seems like you’re hardly ever around anymore.”

  “I’m around all the time. Or at least, I’m here on the ranch. I’ve been riding the range quite a bit, getting more familiar with it and making sure everything’s done that needs to be.”

  “I trust Cal to see to that,” Smoke said. “If he wasn’t, Pearlie would notice and set him straight . . . but I’m not worried about that.”

  Pearlie hadn’t been around much, either, Denny thought, because he’d been up at the line shack helping her. But since Smoke didn’t seem to know about that, she didn’t see any reason to tell him. “Why did you want to see me? Is there something you need me to do?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is,” Sally said. “Can you ride into Big Rock tomorrow?”

  “Sure, I suppose so,” Denny replied with a slight shrug. The request took her by surprise.

  “Good.” Sally picked up a piece of paper from the bedside table and held it out. “Your father would like for you to send these telegrams for him.”

  “Reckon I can speak for myself,” Smoke said. “I wrote out those wires. Just need you to take them to the telegraph office and see that they’re sent, that’s all.”

  Denny took the paper from Sally and looked at the words written on it. “What is this? It looks like the same message is going to Matt, Ace, and Chance.” She glanced up sharply. “This is a call for help.”

  “That’s right,” Smoke said. “I hate being laid up more than anything, but sometimes a fella’s got to face facts. I’m not as young as I once was, and it’s taking me longer to bounce back than I thought it would.”

  Sally said, “You thought you could lose enough blood that by all rights you should have died, then hop out of bed the next morning as if nothing had happened.”

  Smoke chuckled. “Well, I was hoping . . .” He grew more serious as he went on. “If that’s not going to happen, we’ve got to take steps to make sure the Sugarloaf and everybody on it is protected. I told Cal I didn’t want a bunch of hired guns around, but Matt and your cousins are different. They’re family.”

  “You’re worried those rustlers will come back,” Denny said.

  Smoke’s face darkened with anger. “They’re more than rustlers. I’m sure they’ve been making a profit off that stock they’ve wide-looped from us, but the reason they started stealing cattle in the first place was to get back at me for something. Likely they don’t all feel that way, but their boss sure has a grudge against me, I’m thinking.”

  “But you don’t know why.”

  Smoke shook his head. “I don’t have any idea. That doesn’t matter, though. What’s important is that there’s still a threat hanging over this ranch, and it’s got to be dealt with.”

  “By Matt, Ace, and Chance,” Denny said.

  “I can’t think of anybody better.”

  She could think of somebody else. The question was whether or not she would be better at it than her uncle and cousins. She had to admit, Matt, Ace, and Chance all had formidable reputations. They had been drifting and adventuring for many years, and as seemed to be true of all Jensen
s, they’d never had a problem with finding themselves in the middle of some trouble.

  “You’ve got addresses for them,” she said, “but you don’t know if they’re still at any of these places. The way they drift around, they could all be long gone.”

  “That’s true,” Smoke said, nodding. “It may take a while for those messages to catch up to them. But I reckon we’ve got a little time. We shot that bunch up pretty good, including the boss. They were hit hard the last two times and lost a good number of men. More than likely, they’ll try to recoup those losses by recruiting more hardcases. The frontier’s not really what it used to be, twenty or even ten years ago, but there are still plenty of bad men around if you know where to look for them. I’m betting that boss rustler does.”

  “So you’re just going to call for help and hope it shows up in time.”

  “I don’t see what else I can do,” Smoke said, starting to sound a little irritated by Denny’s attitude.

  She shrugged. “All right. I’ll see to it that these messages get sent out tomorrow morning. I’ll ride to Big Rock first thing.” She paused. “I’m a little surprised you didn’t just send one of the hands.”

  “So was I,” Sally said, “but your father claims this is family business, so a member of the family ought to handle it.”

  Smoke said, “I thought, too, you might like a chance to go to town. You’ve been cooped up here on the ranch for several days. You’re probably not used to that.”

  “I like being on the ranch,” Denny said. “I’ve kept myself busy. I sure don’t mind doing this for you, though.”

  “One more thing,” Smoke said. “Take your brother with you, if you don’t mind.”

  Denny blew out a breath. “I don’t need Louis along to protect me.”

  Smoke grinned. “No, it’d more likely be the other way around.”

  Sally frowned at him, and Smoke went on. “Well, it’s true. Louis is smart as a whip, but he’s not a fighter, and that’s not his fault. I just thought the ride and the fresh air might do him some good.”

 

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