“Wouldn’t surprise me none,” Frank said. “There are some mighty strange people in this world.”
“Disgusting,” Julie said, placing the bacon Frank had sliced into the big skillet.
“It happened quite often back in ancient times,” Frank replied.
“Still disgusting,” Julie said.
“Don’t start nothin’ you cain’t finish, Drifter,” Dewey warned.
“I’m just stating something I’ve read.”
“Keep on, you’re gonna git you a skillet upside your punkin head,” Dewey told him. “Words you read in a book won’t mean a hill of beans then. ’Sides, here come the children. That ain’t fittin’ talk for them to hear.”
“It is if it happened to them.”
“Frank . . .” Julie warned. “Hush up.”
“Mr. Morgan,” Tess said, “we want to know what you plan on doing with us.”
“Well . . .” Frank paused in his attempt to steal a biscuit from the camp oven. Julie spotted him, and almost took his hand off with a ladle. Frank barely jerked his hand back in time. “Well,” he said, inspecting his hand to see if any fingers were missing, “when we get to town, I’ll start sending out telegrams to your relatives.”
“Why can’t we stay with you and Miss Julie?”
“Ah . . . well . . .” Frank stammered, thinking fast. Then he said, “Why don’t you ask Miss Julie?”
“Because Mr. Morgan and I aren’t married, Tess,” Julie replied.
Frank sneaked a hot biscuit, and smiled at Julie when she cut her eyes at him.
“You could have snagged me one too,” Dewey fussed.
“You want to risk losing a hand, snag your own biscuit,” Frank told him.
“But you’re going to get married, aren’t you?” Sarah asked. “That’s what Susan says anyway.”
Frank had just taken a bite of biscuit, and he started coughing at that.
“Susan!” Julie said.
“Well, if you’re not,” the girl responded, “how come you’re always making moo-moo eyes at him?”
“Moo-moo eyes?” Julie put her hands on her hips.
“I think I’ll go see about the horses,” Frank said, getting up.
“I think I’ll join you,” Dewey said.
“Sit down!” Julie snapped.
Frank and Dewey hit the ground.
“Young lady.” Julie directed the words at her daughter. “You’re really a fine one to be talking about making eyes at someone. Don’t you think I’ve seen how you and Danny look at each other?”
“They’re going to get married too?” Tess inquired.
“Certainly not!” Julie said.
“Oh, yes, we are,” Susan said.
“Lord, have mercy,” Dewey moaned. “We ain’t never gonna git to eat.”
“You are not going to get married, young lady!”
“Oh, yes, we are too!”
Frank began placing the slices of bacon in the big skillet.
“You!” Julie said, whirling around to face Danny. “I blame you for this.”
“I swear to you, Miss Julie,” the young man said, “this is the first I heard any talk about us gettin’ married. We been holdin’ hands and kissin’ some, yes, ma’am. But . . .”
“You’ve been smooching with my daughter?” Julie yelled.
“Quick, gimmie one of them biscuits,” Dewey whispered.
“Yes, ma’am. We have.” Danny stood taller. “And as far as us gettin’ married. Well . . . I think that’s a grand idea.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” the mother challenged.
“I do too,” Frank mumbled, his mouth full of biscuit. “I thought we had some jam around here someplace. This biscuit’s sorta dry.”
“You don’t like my biscuits?” Julie yelled.
“I didn’t say that,” Frank declared. “I just said . . .”
“And I think Susan and Danny getting married is a dreadful idea,” Julie said, cutting him off.
“Well, I just thought—”
“Who asked you to think?” Julie again cut him off.
“Now you done it,” Dewey said. “This is shapin’ up to be a real stem-winder.”
“I love him!” Susan said, moving close to Danny.
“You’re too young to know what love is,” her mother replied. “My God, child! How will he support you?”
“By farming,” Danny told her.
“These here biscuits is a tad on the dry side,” Dewey said.
“Then you make the biscuits from now on!” Julie yelled at him.
“Now whose butt is overloading his mouth?” Frank questioned, looking at the old mountain man.
“When we get to a town, Danny and me are getting married,” Susan announced, taking Danny’s hand.
“The hell you are!” Julie said. “You don’t have my permission.”
“Then we’ll just live together in sin and tell everybody we’re married,” the girl defiantly told her mother.
“If you want my opinion . . .” Frank said.
“I don’t!” Julie told him.
“Then I’ll be quiet,” Frank said.
“Good!” Julie said. She looked at Dewey, who was walking toward the supplies. “Where are you going?”
“To find that jar of jam. These biscuits need some improvement.”
Julie told him what he could do with the jar of jam.
“Whoa!” Dewey said. “That would be plumb uncomfortable.”
“Not to mention that you would ruin the jam,” Frank added.
“It’s settled,” Susan said. “Danny and me are getting married.”
“Good,” Dewey said. “Now can we eat?”
Fifteen
Long after the others had rolled up in their blankets and gone to sleep—or so he thought—Frank sat back a few yards from a dying campfire, drinking coffee. Julie and Susan had stomped around in anger for a time; then both had sat down and had a bite to eat. They were not speaking to each other when they went to their blankets.
Frank had poured another cup of coffee and leaned back against his saddle when he heard Julie heave a great sigh and toss back her blankets. She walked over to him and sat down.
“Coffee?” Frank asked.
“Please.”
Coffee cup in hand, Julie said, “I certainly made a fool of myself this evening, didn’t I, Frank?”
Frank chuckled softly. If he answered truthfully, he’d be in more trouble with the woman. “Well, not really,” he finally said. “I’d say you were reacting like a mother.”
“Thank you for lying so tactfully, Frank. I really don’t have anything against Danny. He’s a good boy, I think.”
“So do I, Julie. But a boy? Well . . . he’s about nineteen. That’s a man out here.”
“How old were you when you got married, Frank?”
“Not much older than Danny.”
She sighed heavily. “What am I going to do, Frank?”
“Let them get hitched, I reckon.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“It’s either that or they’ll run off and get married and you might never see Susan again. You want it that way?”
“Lord, no.”
“We’ll talk with them. See if they’ll agree to hold off until this hunt for Becky is over. Want to try that?”
“That might be a good idea. That would give them time to really get to know each other.”
“Yes. And one or both of them might decide they don’t want any part of marriage. But don’t count on that.”
“Oh, I know, Frank. Susan can be a very determined little lady when she sets her mind to it.”
“Sort of like her mother, hey?”
Julie smiled in the faint light from the fire. “I suppose you might say that.”
“What about the other kids?” Frank asked.
“We send them back to their relatives.”
“Suppose they don’t want to go.”
“They won’t have a choice, Frank
. They’re just children.”
“And if we can’t find any relatives that will take them?”
“I guess then they’ll have to be placed in an orphanage.”
Frank sighed audibly. “Have you ever seen, been in one of those places?”
“No.”
“I have. Dismal places. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for sending any kid to one of those places.”
“Do you speak from experience, Frank?” she asked softly.
“Oh, no. I ran away from home on my own accord. But I’ve seen orphanages aplenty in my time.”
“I guess we’ll settle it when we get to town.”
“I reckon so.”
Julie finished her coffee, yawned, and said good night, returning to her blankets. Frank glanced over to where Dewey was sleeping. “Did you get all that conversation, you snoop?” Frank whispered.
“I ain’t a-snoopin’. I just ain’t a-sleepin’,” Dewey replied in a whisper. “’Sides, it wasn’t much of an interestin’ talk you two had. Matter of fact, it was plumb borin’.”
“What were you expecting?”
“Some sparkin’, maybe. Anything ’ceptin’ what I heard. Damn near come close to puttin’ me to sleep.”
“Did you agree with what I said?”
“’Bout the orphanages?”
“Yes.”
“Shore did. I seen them places time to time. I wouldn’t want to send no kid to one. But, Frank, mayhaps you ain’t gonna have no choice. You give that any thought?”
“No. Not much.”
“Then you better put on your thinkin’ cap and ruminate that thought around in your noggin a time or two.”
“I’ll do that. When I wake up.”
“That’s a right good idea. Now why in the hell don’t you shut up and let an old man get his rest?”
“Good night, Dewey.”
“Night, Drifter.”
“Good night. Both of you,” Julie called from across the camp.
“That woman shore has sharp hearin’. Don’t she, Frank?”
Frank did not reply. He knew better. He simply pulled his blanket over him, lay back against his saddle, and closed his eyes.
A few yards away, Dewey chuckled.
* * *
“Last time I was here,” Dewey said, “I bet you there wasn’t fifty people in the en-tar damn town. Now just look at ’em. Must be two, three thousand. What a mess. Don’t know what the hell they all do to make a dollar.”
“Phoenix is growing, no doubt about that,” Frank replied.
“I want a long, hot soapy bath,” Julie said. “And some clean clothes. Then I might start feeling human again.”
“You just had a bath a couple of weeks ago,” Dewey said. “All of you. Too many baths ain’t good for a person.”
“I want a bath too,” Susan said.
“Me too,” Tess and Sarah said.
“Lord have mercy,” Dewey said. “Y’all gonna use up the town’s en-tar supply of soap.”
“I believe I’ll have me a good wash too,” Frank declared.
“I think I’ll have me a drink,” Dewy decided. “Bathe later. I’ll just keep my ears open and try to larn somethin’.”
“How can you expect to hear anything with two weeks of trail dust clogging up your ears?” Frank asked with a grin.
Dewey gave him a dirty look and lifted the reins. “Let’s find us a livery,” he suggested. “Then y’all can go splash around in tubs and get soap in your eyes.”
When the horses were stabled and everyone was settled into a hotel, Julie said, “Danny, you and Jerry go with Frank. We’ll see you all in a couple of hours.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And we’re taking Dog with us,” Susan said. “For protection.”
“Spoiling him rotten is what you’re doing,” Frank said. “You’re going to make him more worthless than he already is.” He took Julie to one side. “I’ll set up a line of credit for you at that general store over yonder.” He pointed. “You can outfit the girls there. Get them outfitted with clothes for the trail.”
“We’re not going to see about getting them back to relatives?”
“Maybe. I don’t know yet. I’m about halfway decided to take them with us. I’m not putting any of the kids into an orphanage.”
She touched his arm. “I knew you wouldn’t, Frank.”
“Yeah? Well . . . I told you how I feel about those places. We’ll think of something in due time.”
“Certainly we will. Frank? You keep an eye on Danny. Try to steer him away from preachers. I don’t want those two sneaking off and getting married while we’re in town.”
“I thought they agreed to hold off for a time.”
“They did. I just want some insurance, that’s all.”
Frank smiled and nodded his head. “I’ll keep an eye on Danny.”
“Thank you.”
Frank set up a line a credit for Julie at the store, and let Danny and Jerry pick out a couple of sets of clothing to put on after their baths. He bought both the boys a bottle of sarsaparilla, and sat them down on a bench while he picked out a new shirt and some britches. Then he got the boys and the three of them went walking around the fast-growing town.
“Reckon where Mr. Dewey is?” Jerry asked.
“Having him a beer in a saloon,” Frank replied. “He’ll find out what’s going on and report to us later.”
“Two men are following us, Mr. Morgan,” Danny whispered.
“I see them. I’ve had my eye on them for a while now. They picked us up as soon as we left the store.”
“You know them?”
“I know they’re trouble-hunters,” Frank said. “If they brace me, you get Jerry out of the way, understand?”
“Yes, sir. Those men behind us, you reckon they’re lookin’ to make themselves a reputation by callin’ you out?”
“Might be. Might be they’re part of the Dooley gang.”
“What are you gonna do, Mr. Morgan?”
“Get off this main street for one thing.”
“And then?”
“Get you and Jerry away from me for another.”
“I’ve got my gun, Mr. Morgan,” Danny said. “I can help you.”
“You keep that hogleg in leather, boy. Those men following us are skilled gun-handlers. I don’t want to see you shot.” He managed a smile despite the tense situation. “Susan would never forgive me or you.”
“What do you want us to do, sir?” Jerry asked.
“Keep walking. Stay with me until we round that corner yonder. Then you duck into the first store we come to.”
“Yes, sir,” they both said.
The trio rounded the corner, and Danny and Jerry slipped into a saddle shop. The man sitting on a bench and working on a saddle looked up and his mouth dropped open when he recognized Frank. “My God!” he blurted out. “It’s really you. I saw your picture in a magazine just the other day.”
“Watch out for these two, will you?” Frank asked.
“Sure thing, Mr. Morgan. You know, sir, you look a lot like the outlaw Val Dooley. You know that?”
“So I’ve been told. Stay inside, mister. The lead is about to fly, I’m thinking.”
The man rose from the bench, walked to the door, and looked out. “Those are the Tremaine brothers, Mr. Morgan. Ike and Neville. They’re hired guns.”
“I figured they were. Tremaine brothers. I’ve heard of them.”
“I’m told they’re pretty good.”
“I’ll soon find out, I’m thinking.” Frank stepped away from the store and turned, facing the stalking gunmen. “You boys looking for me?” he called.
Ike and Neville stopped about forty feet from Frank. “You’re Frank Morgan, ain’t you?” Ike said.
“I sure am.”
“Then we’re lookin’ for you.”
“You found me. Now what the hell do you think you’re going to do with me?”
“Kill you, Morgan,” Neville said bluntly
.
“It’s been tried before, boys. I’ve left a few graveyards behind me.”
“But this time you’re gonna be in the graveyard,” Ike informed him.
“Who hired you?” Frank asked.
“John Huddleston.”
“I know that name. From New York City?”
“His man said he was from there,” Neville said.
“His man?”
“The man who hired us.”
“Did he have a name?”
“Douglas Sinclair,” Ike said. “Least that’s the name he give us.”
“What difference do it make?” Neville questioned. “You ain’t gonna be able to do nothin’ ’bout it. In a few minutes you gonna be dead.”
“Don’t count on that, boys. I’m going to give you time to change your minds about this business arrangement.”
“Cain’t,” Ike said. ‘We done took part payment for seein’ you dead.”
“I’ll call the marshal!” the saddle shop owner shouted.
“He’s out of town and so is his deputies,” Neville said. “And you know it. So you just mind your own knittin’ in there.”
“Stay out of this,” Frank warned the local in low tones. “And get away from the storefront window.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” the man replied.
Frank did not reply. He kept his eyes on the Tremaine brothers.
“Why did Huddleston want me dead?” Frank questioned.
“Sinclair didn’t tell us,” Ike replied. “And we didn’t ask. ’Sides, this will be a feather in our hats, killin’ you, Morgan.”
“Yeah,” Neville said with a sneer. “You ‘posed to be such a hotshot fast gun and all that coyote crap. Personal, I think it’s all talk.”
“Yeah, me too,” brother Ike said.
“You ready to find out?” Frank’s question was offered in a low, menacing tone.
“Any time, Morgan,” Neville said.
“Yeah,” Ike said. “It’s up to you, Morgan.”
“No, boys,” Frank said. “You started this, so you pull on me.”
“How ’bout now!” Neville yelled, and started his draw.
Sixteen
Neville was quick, clearing leather and firing. But he missed his first shot, the slug whining harmlessly off into the hot air. Frank didn’t miss. His bullet hit Neville in the belly and doubled the man over, dropping him to his knees on the boardwalk.
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