Amid the eating, drinking, talking, and laughing, Brad said to Smoke, “Mr. Jensen, I was wondering about something.”
“What’s that, Brad?”
“The stagecoach is still out there, isn’t it?”
Smoke nodded. “Without a team of horses, it can’t get up and run off by itself.”
“Are you going to get it, so you can return it to Mr. Davis?”
Smoke folded his napkin, set it beside his plate, and said, “Now that’s a mighty fine idea. Once the weather is better, we’ll take some horses out there and fetch it in. After the damage we did to it, we ought to try to fix it up.”
“And then I’ll drive it back to Sacramento,” Salty spoke up. “Would’ve been nice to take it all the way to Reno, but some things ain’t meant to be, I reckon.”
“What will Mr. Davis do with it?” Brad wanted to know.
“Oh, I expect he’ll keep it, like he’d been doin’ before we came along and borrowed it,” the old-timer told him.
“But he just had it in a barn,” Brad said. “Stagecoaches are part of history. People ought to be able to see them.”
Louis said, “You mean like in a museum?”
“Yeah,” Brad said, nodding excitedly. “That would be a good place for it.”
“I’ll talk to Fred,” Smoke promised. “That old coach is pretty close to his heart, but we might be able to convince him to share it with folks.”
“I’d like that.” Brad grinned. “Especially since my initials are on it.”
Louis laughed and said, “You want people to remember you, is that it?”
Solemnly, Brad said, “I want people to remember what it was like to go through Donner Pass in a stagecoach, in the middle of a blizzard, at Christmastime, with badmen and wolves and the Donner Devil lurking around.”
“I don’t reckon any of us around this table will ever forget, Brad,” Smoke said.
“And none of us ever forgot,” the tall, silver-haired man said as he rested his hand on the stagecoach and lightly traced a fingertip along the faint markings. “I know I never did.”
Some of the visitors to the museum had gathered to listen to him. Among them was the little boy whose question about the stagecoach had started the whole thing. Wide eyed, he gazed up at the silver-haired man and said, “Are . . . are you—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” the professor interrupted. “Seriously, after spinning that ridiculous yarn, you’re not going to claim that you’re really Brad Buckner and that you lived through the whole unbelievable thing?”
“You want to see my driver’s license, mister?” the silver-haired man asked coldly. “You can read the name on it for yourself.”
“I don’t care what your name is,” the professor said, “you can’t expect anybody to believe such a pile of utter hogwash. It’s claptrap! I’ve never read about this in any of the history books, and I know everything there is to know about transportation in the Old West.”
“Mister, you only know what you think you know.” The older man dropped a slow wink to the little boy, who laughed.
The professor blew out a disgusted breath, shook his head, and turned away. “Hogwash,” he muttered again as he stalked off.
The rest of the crowd began to break up. It would soon be closing time for the museum.
The little boy lingered, though, ignoring his mother’s stern look. “Was it true?” he asked. “The story about the Jensens, and the Donner Devil, and how all of you almost froze to death at Christmastime?”
“What do you think?” the silver-haired man said with a smile.
“I think I want it to be true.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” The man touched his chest over his heart. “If it’s true in here.”
About the Authors
WILLIAM W. JOHNSTONE is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over 300 books,including the series The Mountain Man, Preacher,the First Mountain Man, MacCallister, Luke Jensen,Bounty Hunter, Flintlock, Those Jensen Boys!, The Frontiersman, Savage Texas, The Kerrigans, and Will Tanner, U.S. Deputy Marshal. His thrillers include Black Friday, Tyranny, and Stand Your Ground. Visit his website at www.williamjohnstone.net.
Being the all-around assistant, typist, researcher, and fact-checker to one of the most popular western authors of all time, J. A. JOHNSTONE learned from the master, Uncle William W. Johnstone. He began tutoring J.A. at an early age. After-school hours were often spent retyping manuscripts or researching his massive American Western history library, as well as the more modern wars and conflicts. J. A. worked hard—and learned. “Every day with Bill was an adventure story in itself. Bill taught me all he could about the art of storytelling. ‘Keep the historical facts accurate,’ he would say. ‘Remember the readers—and as your grandfather once told me, I am telling you now: Be the best J. A. Johnstone you can be.’ ”
Notes
1 See the novel The Jensen Brand.
2 See the novel The Jensen Brand.
3 This is one of the many adventures of Smoke Jensen that has yet to be told.
4 See the novel The Jensen Brand.
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