A Big Sky Christmas

by William W. Johnstone

  “Since we’re all going to be traveling together, why don’t you call me Savannah?” she suggested. “And the three of you will be Bodie and Moses and . . . Mr. MacCallister.”

  That brought a chuckle from Jamie.

  Savannah smiled. “It’s just that you’re old enough to be my, well, my father.”

  “I’m older than that, girl,” Jamie said. “I could be your grandpa. But I’ve never cared much what folks call me, as long as they don’t call me late for supper.”

  Bodie grinned. “I figured you were going to say that.”

  Savannah changed the subject. “Kane is underestimating just how tough Cyrus and the others are. They’d never help him.”

  “They wouldn’t as long as he didn’t box ’em in where they didn’t have any choice. Maybe that letter of yours will keep that from happening.”

  They went into the alley behind the hotel. It was pitch black, but Jamie led them through it as if it were bright as day. A short time later, they were back at the wagon train camp, which was still dark and peaceful.

  Jamie went to one of the wagons, knocked softly on the tailgate, and called, “Cap’n Hendricks.”

  A man with tousled hair stuck his head out of the wagon. “Who’s there?” He thrust the twin barrels of a shotgun over the tailgate.

  Jamie grasped the barrels and shoved them skyward. “Take it easy with that greener,” he snapped. “It’s MacCallister and Moses Danzig. We’ve got a couple more pilgrims for your expedition, and one of ’em’s going to be my third scout, at least for the time being.”

  Wearing a long nightshirt much like the one Moses had been sporting earlier, Captain Hendricks climbed out of his wagon and listened as Jamie introduced Bodie and Savannah and explained the situation.

  When Jamie was finished with the story, Hendricks said, “Normally when a person joins a wagon train, they have to contribute something—”

  “I can pay,” Savannah broke in. “I have a little money saved up.”

  Hendricks smiled and shook his head. “I was about to say that under the circumstances, I think we can forget about that, at least for now. Since it’s possible you may not be with us for long, there’s even less reason to worry about it.” The wagon train captain scratched his angular jaw. “Now, there’s the matter of finding you a place. . . .”

  “What about with the Binghams?” Moses suggested. “There’s just the two of them, so they’d probably have room in their wagon.”

  “Yes, that might work.” Hendricks turned to Savannah. “They’re a couple getting on in age, really probably too old to have pulled up stakes and started west like they did, but their children are all grown and Edward Bingham wanted to see some new country. Can’t say as I blame him. I feel sort of the same way myself.”

  “Once a man’s feet get restless, there’s not much he can do about it except move on,” Jamie said. “I know that feeling mighty well.”

  So did Bodie. He had been pretty fiddle-footed himself since his parents’ deaths had left him alone, but it was from necessity, not choice. As filled with trouble as his life had been, he’d had to stay on the move.

  That thought reminded him that he still had something to do before morning, something pretty important. He had to see about getting his share of the train robbery loot from Eldon Swint.

  Now that they had obtained Captain Hendricks’s approval for joining the wagon train, Moses took Savannah to the wagon belonging to the elderly couple. Before they left, Bodie said to her, “I’ll see you later.”

  “I really hate to disrupt whatever plans you had,” she said.

  “Trust me, I didn’t have any real plans, and you’re not disrupting a thing.”

  That was true. For her sake, he hated what Savannah was having to go through, but it was a good excuse to leave the gang. He had never been that comfortable riding with Swint and the others, and after the cold-blooded murder of that station agent, Bodie wanted more than ever to get away from them.

  As Savannah and Moses walked off, Bodie hung back with Jamie. “There’s something I have to do before I can leave in the morning.”

  “Yeah, you said something about that before. You need a hand with whatever it is?”

  That was just the sort of man Jamie MacCallister was, thought Bodie. Jamie had to at least suspect that Bodie’s business might involve some degree of danger, but he’d volunteered to come along anyway, without the slightest hesitation. By that, Bodie could tell that Jamie already considered him a friend, and it was a good feeling.

  He shook his head. “No, I can handle it. But I’m obliged to you for the offer.”

  “We’re pulling out at first light. You’ll need to be back here by then.”

  “I will be,” Bodie promised.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  He left the wagon camp and headed back to the hotel where the gang was staying, which was seedier than the one being used by the troupe of performers. Swint might be there, or he might be at the Bella Royale. Bodie thought the odds were good that he would find the gang leader at one place or the other.

  On the second floor of the hotel, he found Clete Mahaffey and Dave Pearsoll sitting on ladder-back chairs in the hallway outside Swint’s room. “I didn’t know you fellas had first shift on guard duty tonight.”

  “Yeah, that’s us—just sittin’ here while the rest of the boys are out havin’ fun,” Mahaffey groused.

  “You need something, Cantrell?” Pearsoll asked.

  Bodie nodded. “I’m looking for the boss. Is he in his room?”

  “Nah, we haven’t seen Swint for a couple hours. Check the saloon.”

  “That was going to be my next stop. Much obliged.”

  “Wait a minute,” Mahaffey said. “Is something wrong, Cantrell?”

  “No, not at all,” Bodie lied. “I just need to talk to him for a few minutes.”

  Clearly, both men were curious what was going on, but they weren’t going to poke their noses in another man’s business. They just grunted as Bodie lifted a hand in farewell and headed back downstairs.

  He should have asked them where Jake was, he thought as he left the hotel. Jake was the only member of the gang he considered a friend—one that he wanted to say good-bye to before pulling out with the wagon train.

  He could find Jake later, he decided. It was more important to settle things with Swint.

  The hour was getting really late, but the Bella Royale was still busy. Bodie entered the saloon but didn’t see Swint anywhere, so he went to the bar and asked the bartender if he’d seen the boss outlaw.

  The apron nodded toward a closed door. “There’s a poker game going on in that private room back there. Swint and some of his boys are sitting in on it. Say, aren’t you one of his bunch?”

  “I was,” Bodie said. All that had changed tonight.

  He hadn’t known it at the time, but it had changed the moment he first laid eyes on Savannah McCoy.

  With that thought in mind, Bodie went to the door and knocked on it. A voice he didn’t recognize told him to come in.

  When he stepped into the room he saw that it was windowless and dark except for a lamp that cast a cone of light over a round table topped with green baize, the cards and money scattered on it, and to a lesser extent, the men who sat around it. Swint sat on the far side of the table, facing the door.

  That came as no surprise to Bodie; Swint wouldn’t want anybody coming in behind him where he couldn’t see them. That was just common sense for someone with a lot of enemies and a price on his head.

  To Swint’s right was a frock-coated man Bodie didn’t know, probably a professional gambler. To the gambler’s right was another man Bodie didn’t know who had the well-fed look of a successful businessman. The other three men at the table were members of the gang: Charley Green, who was usually Swint’s second in command when the gang pulled a job, a gunman from Arizona named Jack Perkins, and Joe Guerra, a ’breed from the border country down in Texas.

  It appeared that a
hand had just concluded and the frock-coated gambler had won. He finished pulling in the pot, then glanced up at Bodie. “We don’t have a chair open right now, but you’re welcome to stay and watch in case one of these gents drops out.”

  “I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Swint said irritably. “Not until I’ve had a chance to win back that money I lost.”

  The gambler took a slender black cigarillo from his vest pocket, put it between his lips, left it unlit, and rolled it from one side of his mouth to the other. “That’s the sort of talk I like to hear. It shows you’re passionate about the game, my friend . . . and it tells me I’m going to have a chance to take even more of your money.”

  Swint scowled, and Bodie thought that the gambler didn’t really know what sort of loco hombre he was dealing with. Swint was quick to take offense, quick to reach for the gun on his hip.

  The boss outlaw’s reaction lasted only for a second before he controlled it and forced a grin. “You just go ahead and think that way, amigo. We’ll see who’s rakin’ in the pot next time.” He glanced up at Bodie. “Did you want somethin’, Cantrell, or do you plan to just stand there?”

  “I need to talk to you for a minute,” Bodie said. “In private.”

  Swint’s scowl came back. “You got somethin’ you can’t say in front of these fellas? I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

  “It’s just business, that’s all.”

  Swint drummed the fingers of his left hand on the table. “My luck’s due to change. I can feel it in my bones. If I sit out this next hand, that luck’s liable to pass right over me.”

  “Why don’t we take a short break?” the gambler suggested. “That way you can talk to your friend, I’ll go get another bottle from Horace, and we can all stretch our legs.”

  “All right,” Swint said as he scraped back his chair. “But don’t start again without me, you hear? Cantrell, this isn’t gonna take very long, is it?”

  “It shouldn’t,” Bodie said. Just long enough for you to go upstairs, get the money that you owe me, and hand it over, he thought.

  Swint stood up. “Come on. We’ll step out into the alley.”

  They left the private room and went out through a side door into the narrow passage between the Bella Royale and the building next to it. Swint left the door open so that a rectangle of light slanted through it and the glow lit up most of the alley.

  “All right,” Swint said. “What is it you want?”

  “My share of the money,” Bodie replied bluntly.

  Swint’s scowl got even more fierce. “You know we’ll divvy up that loot when the time is right. And I’m the one who decides when that is, Cantrell, not you.”

  “I’m not saying you have to divvy up with everybody.”

  “That wouldn’t be fair to the others. What makes you so dang special, anyway?”

  “I’m leaving the gang,” Bodie said.

  Swint stared at him for a second as if he couldn’t comprehend what Bodie had just said. Finally he repeated, “Leaving the gang?”

  “That’s right.”

  Swint’s eyes narrowed, and his face began to flush with anger. “What’s the matter, we ain’t good enough for you anymore? You gonna go out and start your own gang, show ol’ Eldon what it’s like to be a famous owlhoot?”

  “It’s not like that.” It wasn’t going as smoothly as Bodie had hoped, but to tell the truth he hadn’t really expected Swint to take the news very well. “In fact, I plan to give up being an outlaw altogether.”

  “So you really do think you’re too good for the likes of us. But when it comes to the money the rest of us took off that train, you ain’t so high and mighty that you’ll turn your back on it, are you? You’re just as greedy as the rest of us where that loot’s concerned.”

  Bodie felt a flash of anger of his own. “Listen here, I did everything you told me to do during that holdup. If there had been trouble, my neck would have been on the line just like yours. So I think I’ve got a right to my share.”

  Swint hooked his thumbs in his gun belt and sneered. “Only members of the gang get shares. You walk away now and you won’t have a damn dime comin’ to you.”

  “Now hold on! You never said anything about that before.”

  “Never figured I’d have to explain it. It’s just common sense.”

  Actually, it was a chance for Swint to get his hands on an extra share, Bodie realized . . . assuming that the leader of the gang didn’t mean to hang on to all the loot. Chances were, Swint didn’t really care whether Bodie stayed or went. He had never been any great shakes as an outlaw. Swint could replace him with any of a hundred drifting hardcases.

  Swint had his pride, though, and he felt insulted. For that reason alone, he was willing to make it an issue.

  Both men stood tensely in the mixture of dim light and shadows in the alley. It was bright enough for Bodie to see the anticipation of violence in Swint’s stance. He knew that if he made even the slightest move toward his gun, Swint would slap leather, too. The killing lust burned in the man’s eyes.

  Suddenly, Bodie felt sick. His guts clenched. But it wasn’t from fear. He and Swint were pretty evenly matched when it came to gun speed, he thought.

  What gripped him was revulsion. He was ready to kill or be killed over money stained with the blood of that murdered station agent. The whole thing was loco.

  Besides, Savannah McCoy needed his help to stay safe. Sure, if he got himself killed over a pile of ill-gotten loot, Jamie MacCallister, Captain Hendricks, and Moses Danzig would still do their best to look after her. Bodie had a feeling that Jamie would be more than a match for any threat the wagon train might run up against.

  But even so, there might come a time when he was all that stood between Savannah and disaster, like when Kane’s men had tried to grab her earlier. He couldn’t afford to run the risk of not being there.

  He drew in a deep breath. “You know what, Eldon? Keep my share. I don’t care.”

  Swint’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. Obviously he couldn’t comprehend such a decision. “Is this some sort of trick?”

  Bodie shook his head. “No trick. There are other things I need to do, and they’re more important than any stack of gold eagles. You keep my share and divide it up among the other men. Or just keep it for yourself. It doesn’t matter to me either way, as long as you’re all right with letting me walk away from the gang.”

  “I don’t give a damn whether you’re in the gang or not,” Swint snapped, confirming what Bodie had thought a few moments earlier. “I still think you’re tryin’ to put somethin’ over on me, though.”

  “I’m not. I give you my word.” Bodie stuck out his hand. “I’ll even shake on it.”

  Swint hesitated, but finally he clasped Bodie’s hand. “What is it you’ve got to do?”

  Bodie opened his mouth to explain about Savannah, Gideon Kane, and the wagon train, then thought better of it. Swint didn’t have any reason to know about any of that. “Just some personal business to take care of.”

  “Fine. It ain’t like I care. You remember one thing, though, Cantrell. You walk away from me, and we’re done. We ain’t partners no more, and if you ever cross me in the future, I’ll kill you just as quick as I would a total stranger.”

  Bodie wouldn’t have expected anything less from the man. He didn’t see any reason his trail ought to cross that of Eldon Swint any time in the future, though. It would be perfectly fine with him if he never saw the lantern-jawed outlaw again. “I understand. You won’t have any trouble from me, Eldon.”

  Swint snorted contemptuously. “I’d better not, or you’ll wind up filled full of lead, you got that?”

  Bodie thought back and realized that he had never seen Swint engage in an actual gunfight. The outlaw had killed several men, but always from ambush or when he already had the drop on them. Maybe Swint wasn’t quite the deadly pistoleer he always bragged about being.

  None of that mattered, Bodie told himself. He was going wi
th Savannah, and he would never see Swint again.

  “You know where Three-Finger Jake is?” he murmured. He still hadn’t given up on the idea of saying good-bye to his friend.

  “I ain’t got the slightest idea. It’s not my job to keep up with the whereabouts of a bunch of no-account road agents when they’re not pullin’ a job for me.”

  “All right. If you see him—” Bodie stopped and shook his head. He didn’t want to tell Swint that he was going to be traveling with the wagon train. Even though it was unlikely, that might somehow put Kane on Savannah’s trail. Bodie wasn’t going to take the chance.

  “So long, Eldon. That’s all.”

  “You’re loco, you know that?” Swint growled as Bodie turned away. “Givin’ up that loot just don’t make sense.”

  “It does if maybe you’ve found something more valuable,” Bodie said, thinking about Savannah McCoy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jamie was up long before dawn the next morning, making sure people were awake and getting ready to depart from Kansas City. He had said that he meant for the wagons to roll at first light, and he meant it. As far as he was concerned, the eastern sky barely had to turn gray for it to count as first light.

  As he was making the rounds of the camp, he came up to one of the cook fires and found Moses Danzig and Bodie Cantrell hunkered beside the flames, sipping coffee from tin cups. The pot was sitting at the edge of the fire, keeping warm.

  “Some coffee, Mr. MacCallister?” Moses asked.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Jamie said. He’d already had a cup with Captain Hendricks, but a man couldn’t have too much coffee when he planned to spend a long, long day in the saddle.

  Moses went to his nearby wagon and brought another cup, filled it from the pot, and handed it to Jamie.

  He sipped gratefully at the strong black brew. “Did you get your business taken care of last night, Cantrell?”

  “Yes, sir, I did,” the young man replied.

  Jamie nodded. “Glad to hear it.” He didn’t press for any more information. He felt an instinctive liking for Bodie Cantrell, but the young man’s affairs were his own and Jamie didn’t intend to interfere in them. “Seen Miss McCoy this morning?”