“Well, that can’t hurt him, I suppose,” Sally said. “Just be careful, Denise. Both of you should be careful. I know it’s only a few miles to Big Rock, but you never know when you might run into trouble.”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Denny said confidently. More confidently than she would have a few days earlier, before she had spent long hours practicing with her father’s revolver.
That Colt would be on her hip tomorrow when she and her brother rode into Big Rock.
CHAPTER 23
Sheriff Monte Carson was at his desk in his office when the door opened and Brice Rogers ambled in. Monte glanced up at the young federal lawman, greeted him with a grunt, and went back to the unpleasant chore before him, which was finishing up a detailed report for the town council on the sheriff’s office expenses for the past six months.
Paperwork was the bane of almost any star packer’s existence. Monte would have rather faced down a gang of outlaws than such a report. Somewhere, there might be some peace officers who didn’t mind such tasks, but he had never encountered them.
Rogers went over to the stove, got a tin cup from the shelf beside it, and helped himself to a cup of coffee from the pot. He had visited the sheriff’s office several times since he’d been in Big Rock.
He just made himself at home, Monte thought, annoyed. Or maybe he was just grumpy because of what he was doing. He finished the section he was working on, then pushed the document away from him and set the pencil aside. “What can I do for you, Rogers?”
The deputy U.S. marshal leaned a hip on the corner of the desk. “Tell me where to find the worst outlaws around here.”
Monte blew out a breath disgustedly. “If I knew that, don’t you think I’d be rounding them up myself ?”
Rogers sipped the coffee and shook his head. “I don’t mean men you’d necessarily have reward dodgers on. I was thinking more of the ones who might not be wanted but are still pretty bad. The sort who drift around looking for not-so-honest work but haven’t ever been caught at it, or who at least don’t have any charges against them at the moment.”
Monte leaned back in his chair and nodded in understanding. “The sort who might throw in with a bunch of rustlers?”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Rogers said.
“Well . . . it’s not a bad idea. Smoke’s tangled with that gang twice and nearly a dozen of them have wound up dead. The undertaker’s been kept busy planting ’em, that’s for sure. I don’t know how many were in the gang to start with, but their ranks are bound to have been thinned considerable. Whoever’s running it is liable to be looking for men. You figure to get a line on him that way?”
“The thought occurred to me.”
Monte laced his hands together over his belly and frowned. “There’s a place north of here, up near the Wyoming border, called Elkhorn. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard about it. It’s not a very big settlement, and from what I’ve been told, it owes its existence to the owlhoots and gun-throwers who drift through there. If somebody was looking to replace members of his gang who’d been wiped out, he might head for Elkhorn.”
“How far away is it?” Rogers asked.
“A three- or four-day ride, depending on how fast a fella wants to push his horse.”
Rogers nodded slowly. “I might mosey up there, have a look around. You say you’ve never been there?”
“It’s out of my jurisdiction,” Monte said, shaking his head. “And back in the old days, when I was known to ride a dark trail or two myself, the place didn’t exist. Others served that purpose . . .” Monte sighed. “All gone now. And the world’s probably better for it. Still, sometimes you can’t help but miss the old days a little.”
Rogers didn’t look like he missed anything about the old days.
Of course, he was young, Monte thought, and nobody was more shortsighted than a kid. Age might not always grant a man wisdom—some people were born damn fools and would stay that way their whole lives—but it sure as hell changed his perspective on some things.
“You being a federal lawman, I reckon you can go wherever you want,” Monte went on. “You’d better be careful up there, though. They don’t cotton to star packers.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I sure haven’t found anything around here. I’ve searched the Sugarloaf and the surrounding area. If those rustlers have a hideout somewhere in these parts—and my hunch says they do—they’ve done a good job of hiding it.” Rogers drained the rest of the coffee from the cup, then asked, “Have you heard how Jensen is doing?”
“I ran into Doc Steward at the café a while ago. He was out there at the ranch early this morning to check on Smoke. According to him, Smoke’s progress is remarkable—but it’s not good enough to suit him. Smoke, I mean. He wants to be up and around again, and the doctor says it’s still going to be a week or more before he can even get out of bed, let alone start moving around much. No matter how restless Smoke gets, though, Sally will do a good job of keeping a tight rein on him.”
“The longer he’s laid up, the more chance that gang will try something else, as soon as they’ve gotten back up to full strength again.”
“Yeah, it’s just a matter of time,” Monte agreed. “When do you plan to head for Elkhorn?”
“I’m going to pick up some supplies and ride out today. No point in waiting, and a delay could just cause more trouble.”
Monte stood up and extended his hand. “I’ll wish you good luck, then. I don’t envy you, riding into that rat’s nest.”
“It’s just part of the job, isn’t it?” Rogers said as he shook the sheriff’s hand.
“A job that’ll get you killed if you’re not careful—and lucky. Just remember, you won’t have any help up there. You’ll be on your own.”
Rogers grinned. “Just the way I like it. I’d rather play a lone hand.”
* * *
Denny made sure she was up before the crew ate breakfast. Pearlie usually took his morning meal with Cal and the rest of the men, and she wanted to catch him before he set off on his chores for the day. Retired he might be, but he still liked to keep busy around the ranch headquarters. She couldn’t count on always being able to catch him in the barn or the bunkhouse.
Mixing flapjack batter in a big bowl, Inez looked surprised when Denny came into the kitchen. “You are all right, señorita?”
“Why?” Denny asked with a smile. “Because I’m usually not up this early?”
“You are not in the habit of sleeping as late as your brother, but it is still an hour until sunup.”
“The biscuits smell good. I just thought that maybe I’d give you a hand.”
Inez didn’t look totally convinced by that answer, but she held out the mixing bowl “All right. You can stir this until it’s mixed well and then start cooking the flapjacks.” She nodded toward the stove. “The pan is heating and will be ready by the time you are.”
Denny set to work. She had cooked pancakes before, so she wasn’t completely lost in what she was doing. She had never been a particularly good cook, though, certainly not as good as her mother or Inez. Sally Jensen’s bear sign was legendary in that part of the world. In the past, Denny had seen Cal and Pearlie almost come to blows over the sweet, fried doughnuts.
Sally came in while Denny was taking flapjacks from the pan and stacking them on a plate. She looked as surprised as Inez had been to see Denny working in the kitchen. “Well, this is a nice development.”
“What, me being domestic?” Denny asked.
“That’s right.” Sally cocked an eyebrow. “Of course, you are still dressed like a cowboy.”
“Lots of cowboys can cook. It was always a man in charge of the chuck wagon on trail drives, wasn’t it?”
“That’s true,” Sally admitted. “Anyway, it’s nice to see you giving Inez and me a hand.” She took down an apron from a hook, tied it on, and picked up a basket to gather some fresh eggs from the small henhouse.
By the time the crew tramped acro
ss from the bunkhouse in the predawn light to sit down at the long table in the dining room that was loaded down with food, Denny was hot and tired. She had never realized how much work it was to feed nearly two dozen hungry young cowboys. Not only that, Inez had also prepared sandwiches of biscuits and roast beef for them to take with them out onto the range for their midday meals.
Pearlie was with the rest of the crew. Denny caught his eye and gave him a tiny nod, hoping he would realize that meant she wanted to talk to him. She thought he understood, because he frowned worriedly, as if wondering what in the world she was up to.
Breakfast was a boisterous event, full of loud talk and laughter. Stoked on mounds of food and gallons of coffee, the crew left the house to set out on their day’s riding chores. The sun still hadn’t peeked above the horizon, but it was close enough to cast a bright orange glow across the heavens in the east.
Denny had managed to get out onto the porch before the cowboys emerged. Some of them bid her a raucous farewell. The shy ones just smiled and nodded or awkwardly ignored her completely.
Pearlie was the last one to come out of the house, and he did so with obvious reluctance. “Thought about sneakin’ out the back so’s you wouldn’t catch me,” he admitted candidly. “What is it you want, Miss Denny? I figured since your brother found out about it, we were finished goin’ up to that old line shack.”
“I just want to talk to you, Pearlie . . . about the days when you were an outlaw.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I don’t like to talk about that. Tweren’t nothin’ to be proud of, that’s for sure. I’m just glad Smoke and me crossed trails when we did. That changed everything. Without that, there’s no telling how bad I might’ve become, what terrible things I might’ve done.”
“I don’t believe that,” Denny said. “You always had a good heart. I can tell.”
His bony shoulders rose and fell. “I’d like to think so . . . but I know how it was. I could’ve easy had a short, miserable life as an owlhoot, and when I finally died in a gully somewhere with a bullet in my gut, nobody would’ve missed me. Instead, I’ve found good friends . . . a family, really . . . here on the Sugarloaf. Seems to me I’m just about the luckiest son of a gun around, and that’s why I don’t like to talk about what could’ve been. It don’t never pay to tempt fate.”
“I want to know about the places where the outlaws and the hired guns gathered.”
Pearlie squinted suspiciously at her. “Why would you care about that? Sure, there were places like the Hole in the Wall, the Dutchman’s, Blind Pete’s, Mean Pete’s—they was different Pete’s, mind you—Skeleton Ranch, the Duchess’s place . . . Lord, just thinkin’ about those days makes a shiver go through me.”
“Are any of them still around?”
“Those owlhoot hangouts, you mean?” Pearlie blew out a disgusted breath. “No, and it’s a good thing. This is the twentieth century, girl. All those places are gone. If there’s anything left of ’em, it’s just some crumblin’ ruins. Blind Pete and the Dutchman are dead. The last I heard, Mean Pete was locked away in some madhouse up in Minnesota. The Duchess . . .” He sighed. “I don’t reckon anybody knows for sure what happened to the Duchess. She just sorta dropped outta sight. I hope she found her someplace quiet and peaceful to live out her life.”
“You were sweet on her, weren’t you?” Denny said. “I can tell by the way you say her name.”
“What? Me, sweet on a hellcat like the Duchess? Naw! . . . Well, maybe a little.” Pearlie waved a knobby-knuckled hand. “Anyway, all that’s a long time in the past. A long time. No use thinkin’ about it now.”
“There aren’t any places like that around today?”
“Naw, I expect not. Your pa got rid of two of ’em himself, Bury up in Idaho and Fontana, not that far from where we’re standin’ right now. Outlaw towns, they were. Nothin’ like that around today. Closest thing to it is probably Elkhorn, up along the Wyomin’ border.”
“Elkhorn? I never heard of it.”
“No reason you would have,” Pearlie said. “It’s just a wide spot in the trail. It’s far enough from anywhere that there ain’t no real law there, from what I’ve heard, and that means fellas who don’t want to be bothered can stop there for supplies or a drink or, uh, other things that, uh, fellas on the drift have to stop for.”
“Women of easy virtue,” Denny said with a smile. “That’s what you mean.”
Pearlie’s face turned red, and it wasn’t from the rising sun. “Never you mind about that. Don’t know why we’re talkin’ about such things in the first place.”
“I’m just interested in the way things used to be,” Denny said. “It doesn’t do anybody any good to ignore the past. It’s still there, casting its shadow over what goes on today, whether folks want to admit it or not.”
“Yeah, I reckon.” Pearlie rasped his fingertips over his beard-stubbled chin. “Was that all you wanted?”
“That’s all. Louis and I are going into Big Rock today. Pa wants some wires sent, and we’re going to take care of it for him.”
“All right. The two of you be careful.”
“We will be. And I’ll be ready for trouble. I’ll have my rifle and Pa’s Colt. You know I can use both of them just fine.”
“You’ve only been shootin’ that handgun a few days. Don’t get cocky.”
“We’re not going to run into anything bad between here and town.”
“Not likely,” Pearlie admitted. “I could saddle a horse and come with you, if you want.”
“No, Louis and I can take care of it.”
“All right, then.” Pearlie went down the steps and started toward the barn.
Denny leaned on the porch railing and watched him go. It was true that she didn’t expect to encounter any trouble between the Sugarloaf and Big Rock.
Elkhorn was a different story.
What her father had said the day before about the rustlers needing to recruit more men before they made another move against the ranch had started Denny to thinking. She knew he was right. She trusted his hunches more than anything in the world. She had been trying to think of some way to get on the trail of the man who had almost killed him, and although that certainly hadn’t been his intention, his comments had been the key that unlocked her plan. What she had just learned from Pearlie had filled in the missing pieces.
Elkhorn was the closest place those rustlers could find more men, so that was where she had to go. That was where the vengeance trail would start.
But she couldn’t go there as Denise Nicole Jensen.
CHAPTER 24
“You seem to have something on your mind this morning,” Louis said as they rode toward Big Rock a couple hours later. He wasn’t an early riser by any stretch of the imagination. Denny could have rousted him out of bed so they could have started earlier, but she didn’t see any point in it. They would get to Big Rock in plenty of time to send off Smoke’s telegrams.
“A lot is going on since we got back,” Denny replied to her brother’s comment.
“That’s true. I’m a little surprised you were willing to take time off from practicing your gunplay.”
“Practicing is something I intend to do from now on. Now that I’m just starting to know what I’m doing, I don’t want to slack off and get rusty.”
“You know, Father is going to find out about that one of these days and put a stop to it.”
“You think so?” She looked over at him. “Seems more likely he’ll be proud of me.”
“Instead of disappointed, like he is in me?”
“I’ve never heard him say a thing to make me believe he’s disappointed in you,” Denny said. “He’s always done everything he could to make sure you got what you needed.”
“Yes . . . but he always went out and took whatever it was he needed. I’ve never had that capability.”
Denny shrugged. “Everybody’s different. They’ve got their own talents and liabilities. Pa’s plenty smart enough to underst
and that. If you want to talk about somebody being disappointed, it’s Ma, and I’m the one she’s disappointed in.” Denny gestured at the denim jeans, checked shirt, and buckskin vest she wore. “All decked out in cowboy duds instead of some fancy dress.”
Louis looked at the rugged, tree-covered landscape around them. “This is no ballroom in some French count’s mansion. You’re dressed appropriately for where you are and what you’re doing.”
“Yeah, but in the back of her mind, she would have liked it better if I was more of a girl.”
Louis didn’t argue. He rode along in silence for several minutes until he said, “You’re armed for bear today, aren’t you?”
“I’ve just got a rifle and pistol with me.”
“And that big knife.”
Denny looked at the bowie knife she had taken from Smoke’s study. It rode in a leather sheath she had strapped to her belt on the left side. “Might come in handy.”
“I saw you putting several boxes of ammunition in your saddlebags. Just another precaution?”
“Better to have too many shells than not enough, I reckon.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you, Denny?”
“What do you mean by that?” she said.
“I mean you’re up to something. I can feel it in my bones. I just don’t know what it is.”
Denny scowled but didn’t say anything. She needed her brother’s help to carry out her plan, but she was beginning to wonder if she could get it. Louis had the ability to ruin everything if he wanted to. Even though they had always been close, she wasn’t sure she could count on him a hundred percent.
She thought it might be best to change the subject. “You’ve got the message we’re supposed to send, don’t you?”
Louis patted the breast pocket of the coat he wore. “Right here, along with the last addresses Father had for Uncle Matt, Ace, and Chance.”
“See, that’s why you ought to be running the ranch one of these days. You’re organized. You always know where all the paperwork is and what you need to do with it. You can hire somebody to ramrod the crew and take care of the stock and everything else that needs doing.”
The Jensen Brand Page 16