“When they do,” Cody said, “we’re gonna have about eight hundred Nez Perce Indians with a couple thousand horses movin’ through the valley.”
Sibley shook his head, a worried frown on his face. “We ain’t never had no trouble with the Nez Perce,” he said, “but now that they’re already fightin’ the army, they might attack any whites they run into.” He was momentarily distracted by a sudden rise in the conversation from the three strangers down at the saloon end of the building.
Noticing the look of concern on Mule’s face, Jug asked, “Who are those fellers?”
“I don’t know,” Mule replied. “They rode in here a little while ago, and didn’t waste no time on conversation—just wanted to set down at the table and drink. Rena’s already set ’em up with two bottles. I reckon they’ll move on when they’ve had enough.”
Jug nodded. “Most likely,” he said. He understood Mule’s concern, since his wife was working the bar at the moment. They were a pretty rough-looking bunch—didn’t look like trappers, farmers, miners, or anything else respectable—but it was none of Jug’s business. They didn’t seem to be inclined to cause any trouble, he decided. He was soon proven wrong, however, when the door to Mule’s dwelling opened a second later and Brenda Sibley walked in. Giving the three seated at the table no more than a brief glance, she started around the end of the bar on her way to the front of the store when she spotted Cody.
“Now, that’s more like it,” one of the men said when the saucy girl swept by her mother. “He reached out and grabbed her wrist, almost jerking her to the floor. “You can set down here with us, honey, and have a little drink.”
Brenda regained her balance and tried to pull free of the leering man, but his grip was too strong on her wrist. “Let her go,” Rena demanded, and started around the bar after her daughter.
Quick to join in the fun, the man’s two partners jumped up to block the angry mother’s attempt to come to her daughter’s aid. Laughing lasciviously, they each grabbed one of Rena’s arms and held her back. Realizing what was going on, Mule grabbed a shotgun from under the counter and ran to his family’s rescue. Seeing a .44 drawn and pressed against Rena’s side caused him to stop before he reached the table. “I expect you’d better slow down, old man,” the gunman, a wiry little man with dark bushy eyebrows, warned. “Put that shotgun down before I put an air hole right through your old lady.”
Mule had little choice but to comply. He placed the shotgun down on the floor, but still attempted to reason with the three men. “You fellers have had enough to drink. There ain’t no call to get rowdy with my wife and daughter, so I think it best if you just take the rest of that bottle and be on your way.”
Already preparing to come to Brenda’s rescue, Cody paused for only a moment to see if the three strangers were going to agree to leave. When it became apparent that they had no intention of doing so, he glanced at Jug, who nodded his silent confirmation. There was no hesitation to respond. Unlike the barroom brawl they had had with the soldiers in Missoula, these men were clearly dangerous and had already drawn a gun. The two brothers moved deliberately toward that end of the building. Splitting up, they both drew their revolvers. “I expect you’d best put that gun away,” Jug said, eyeing the wiry man with the .44. His expression promised serious consequences if the suggestion was ignored.
The man hesitated, not sure of his chances. Jug’s pistol was pointed straight at his head. He glanced nervously at his partner, a big brute who was holding Rena’s other arm, and had Cody’s gun aimed at him. “Let the lady go,” Cody said to the man holding Brenda.
The man was smart enough to see they had reached a standoff and he didn’t like the odds that he could release the girl’s wrist and draw his own weapon before getting shot. To further lower his chances, Mule had quickly picked up his shotgun again. There followed a brief period of total silence as all parties considered the possible outcome if the first trigger was pulled. Reluctantly, he fashioned an exaggerated smile and let Brenda go. “Put it away, Blackie. Let her go, Big John,” he ordered. Turning his attention back to the two brothers, he said, “There ain’t no need to get into a tangle over this. We was all just havin’ a little fun. We ain’t lookin’ for trouble. Hell, let’s all have a drink, and no hard feelin’s.”
“Like her father said,” Cody replied as Brenda moved quickly behind him, “you and your friends have had enough to drink. It’s time you were sayin’ good-bye.”
As soon as Blackie removed his pistol from Rena’s side, she jerked free of the two men and retreated behind the bar to retrieve another shotgun from under the counter. “By God,” she roared, “I think I’ll blow your head off for sticking that gun in my ribs!”
“Whoa, lady!” the one who had started it all when he grabbed Brenda exclaimed. “We’re leavin’. Come on, boys. I believe we’ve worn out our welcome here.” He got up and left some money on the table to pay for the whiskey, then led his partners toward the front door.
With guns still drawn, Jug and Cody followed them out to make sure they got on their horses and left. The largest of the three, the one called Big John, paused before stepping up in the saddle to glower at Jug, who was about the same size. He was not accustomed to backing down to any man, and it was eating away at his pride to do so now. Consequently, he couldn’t resist baiting Jug. “It’s a good thing you fellers had us outgunned, big’un,” he snarled. “I mighta enjoyed kickin’ your ass.”
Never one to shy away from a good scrap, Jug responded with a laugh, “Sorry to disappoint you. Now get on that horse and get outta here.”
Big John deliberately took his time putting a foot in the stirrup and pulling himself up in the saddle, still smiling defiantly at Jug the whole time. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime,” he snarled.
“Maybe,” Jug said, “but it better not be around here, or I’ll shoot you on sight.”
They all stood outside and watched until the three disappeared into the trees where the trail turned upriver. “Whew,” Mule exhaled. “We ain’t had troublemakers like them three in here for a long time. I’m just glad you boys showed up when you did.”
“You never saw ’em before?” Cody asked again.
“Nope,” Mule answered. “They ain’t ever been in here before. They said they was just passin’ through the valley, but they didn’t act like they was in any particular hurry.”
“Well, maybe you’ve seen the last of ’em,” Jug said.
“Might not be a bad idea to keep those shotguns handy. You never can tell about men like that.” That said, he turned quickly to his brother. “We’d best be on our way, Cody, if we’re gonna be home before Smoke throws the chuck out.” The recent conflict had done nothing to discourage his appetite.
“We could stick around for a while if you’re worried about those three comin’ back,” Cody suggested, causing a frown on his brother’s face and the hint of a smile on Brenda’s.
“’Preciate it, Cody,” Mule said, “but I’ll be ready for’em if they show up around here again. I’ve been dealin’ with men like them three for over twenty years and we’re still here. I’da been ready for ’em this time, but I swear, they didn’t seem to want nothin’ but a bottle of whiskey.”
Cody shrugged and replied, “Whatever you say. Come on, Jug, I reckon we’ll be leavin’.” He glanced at Brenda, and she acknowledged his gaze with a twinkle in her eye and a shy smile. “I’ll most likely be goin’ huntin’ for elk soon,” he said. “Maybe I’ll bring you a haunch.”
“That’ud be good,” Rena piped up. “That last you brought was mighty fine eatin’.” She was always happy to get the fresh meat, even though she knew the real reason behind Cody’s thoughtfulness had strictly to do with Brenda. Rena was not at all blind to her daughter’s occasional walks down by the river, but she was confident that Brenda was smart enough to handle the situation—and they could always use the meat. It was her thinking that a matchup between Brenda and one of the McCloud boys might be advantage
ous to both parties, especially the Sibleys.
Back in the saddle, the two McCloud brothers turned their horses away from the porch and started for the M Bar C. When they were out of earshot of the three people watching them leave, Jug chided his brother. “I saw those sheep eyes you were throwin’ at Brenda. You’re wastin’ your time. That gal ain’t got time for your nonsense. Besides, Rena would use that shotgun on you if she caught you foolin’ around with her daughter.”
“Maybe you’re right, brother,” Cody replied while smiling to himself and already contemplating the possibility of another visit to the shady glen by the river. “I reckon I ain’t got a chance at that.”
“There they go,” Blackie Cruz said when he saw Cody and Jug ride out the trail from Sibley’s store and turn to the south. “Looks to me like they’re headin’ toward the M Bar C.”
“I had a feelin’ them two might be McCloud’s boys,” Burdette, the man who started the fight, said. He reached over and gave Crocker a playful kick with his boot. “One of ’em was big as you, Big John.” He knew the confrontation was eating away at Crocker’s peace of mind.
“Yeah, well, he was lucky he had a gun on me,” Crocker snorted, “else I’da broke his back for him.” He threw a stick down that he had been fiddling with while the three of them waited for the two riders to leave Sibley’s. “Why don’t we settle up with those two bastards right now?”
“’Cause if they are the McCloud boys,” Burdette patiently explained, “they just might be the ones to lead us to what we’re after. And I don’t wanna risk shootin’ the only ones who might know where that old son of a bitch’s camp is.”
“How do we know we ain’t just wastin’ our time followin’ that woman all the way over here from Butte, anyway?” Blackie asked. “That old man might not’a found a damn ounce of pay dirt. I ain’t heard tell of anybody else strikin’ it rich in them mountains.”
“Maybe he ain’t,” Burdette replied, still patient. “But she must be sure as hell he’s struck it rich. Why else would she risk goin’ to find him in a country full of Flatheads and Nez Perce?”
“Hell, the Flatheads ain’t bothered nobody in this valley for a month or so,” Blackie said, having no knowledge of the recent cattle rustling. “And the word we’ve been hearin’ all summer is that Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce are tryin’ to get away from the army. They ain’t got time to worry about nobody ridin’ up in the Bitterroots lookin’ for a crazy old man.”
“Maybe so,” Burdette conceded, “but that don’t mean the Flatheads have gone peaceful, and all the Nez Perce ain’t gone with Chief Joseph. There’s still some parties ready to raid and plunder—she’s still takin’ a helluva chance, so she must be pretty damn sure it’s worth the risk. We don’t wanna cause any trouble this close to McCloud’s spread to let folks know we’re here.” He got up then and went to his horse. Stepping up in the saddle, he said, “Now let’s just follow these boys and see if they don’t lead right to the M Bar C.”
As Burdette predicted, the two men who had spoiled their fun back at Sibley’s rode straight to the sizable ranch house with a gatepost out front that proclaimed it to be the M Bar C. “Looks like you’re right,” Blackie said, “they must be two of them McCloud boys.” He grinned at Crocker and added, “If the woman talks’em into guidin’ her, you might get a chance to settle up with that big’un. Maybe that would get that burr outta your ass.”
“Maybe I oughta stick that burr up your scrawny little ass,” Crocker replied, still fuming from the humiliation over having to back down to Jug McCloud.
“Maybe you oughta try,” Blackie said with a grin. “See how you’d look with a bullet hole between your eyes.”
Impatient with the meaningless banter, Burdette said, “You two weary my ass. Let’s find a place to camp where we can keep an eye on ’em.” They backtracked then until reaching a suitable place by a stream, far enough from the house where a campfire would not be spotted—the same spot from which they had watched Roberta Morris approach the ranch house earlier. “There ain’t no use in watchin’ the house till mornin’,” Burdette said. “They ain’t gonna start out nowhere this close to dark.” They settled in for the night.
Supper was on the table when Jug and Cody filed into the kitchen after taking care of their horses. Stopped at once by the sight of an attractive woman seated to the right of their father, they were speechless for a moment before Cullen introduced them. “Meet the part of the family we don’t brag about,” Cullen joked. “These are my brothers, Jug and Cody. Boys, say hello to Miss Morris.”
“Please, call me Roberta,” she said to Cullen, then turning back to bestow a warm smile on the two brothers, she said, “I’m so pleased to meet you both. I’ve heard some good things about you.”
Always a hair quicker than Jug with a gun or a quip, Cody replied, “That would most likely be me, ma’am,” he said with a wide grin. “There ain’t nothin’ good you coulda heard about Jug.”
Not ready with an immediate comeback, Jug favored his brother with an exaggerated sigh before saying, “Didn’t take long to hear from Cody’s biggest admirer, did it?” He turned back to Roberta and tipped his hat. “I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
Roberta laughed delightedly. From the expressions on his sons’ faces, Donovan McCloud could judge that she had wasted little time in charming all three. He had to admit, the lady had a way about her, and not just her looks. Supper that night took about a half hour longer than usual as they talked about their guest’s quest to find her uncle. “Well,” Cody told them, “I know where ol’ Gabe’s camp was for the most part of a year, but I ain’t been in that part of the mountains for a month or more. It was the longest he’s stayed in one spot since I’ve seen him—musta found somethin’ to keep him there that long.” He gazed at Roberta then and smiled. “I reckon you were right in lookin’ for help,’cause if you don’t know those mountains, a man would be mighty hard to find, especially if he didn’t necessarily wanna be found—and the Flatheads ain’t been too friendly to most white folks ever since the soldiers opened Fort Owen.”
“Can you take me to his camp?” Roberta pressed.
Cody hesitated before answering. “Yes, ma’am, I can find it again. I just don’t know if it wouldn’t be better for you to wait here and let me go look for Gabe.”
Seeing a hint of concern on Roberta’s face, Cullen stepped in to explain. “What Cody’s worried about is the country we’d have to travel. That part of the Bitterroots is some of the roughest country you’ll likely find anywhere. It’s nothing but one high ridge after another that drops off into rock-walled canyons that go straight up. It’s hardly a place most ladies would care to travel.”
Roberta favored him with a sweet smile. “I’m not most ladies.”
“I guess I can see that,” Cullen replied.
“How soon can we get started?” Roberta asked.
Cullen and Cody exchanged uncertain glances, both feeling as if they needed a little time to think about it first. “Well,” Cody said, “speakin’ for myself, I can go tomorrow mornin’, if Pa can spare me for about a week.” He paused to explain. “Where I last saw Gabe was in a narrow gulch about a day’s ride up the creek that runs through Blodgett Canyon.”
“Blodgett Canyon?” Roberta responded, somewhat surprised.
Cody went on to explain. “There’re about two dozen or more canyons like that running through the Bitterroots, but old man Lyman Blodgett named that one for himself. He took up homesteadin’ on a piece of land in the valley about ten years ago at the mouth of that canyon and I reckon he thought the creek and the canyon oughta be named after him. Most everybody calls it that now. It’s rough country, but a horse can follow the creek all right.”
After much discussion, none of which seemed to discourage the lady’s determination to be part of the search party, Donovan decided that all three of his sons should go. “I’ve never had much trouble with the Salish ever since I first came here,” he said. “But other
s have, and I expect it’d be a good idea to take a couple of extra rifles with you.” His decision obviously pleased Roberta, but Cody displayed a hint of irritation. Donovan expected his reaction and commented, “I know you’re thinkin’ that you ride those mountains all the time by yourself, Cody. But it ain’t the same when you’ve got Miss Morris to worry about. You run into a Flathead or Nez Perce huntin’ party and you’ll be glad to have your brothers there.”
Cullen and Jug looked at each other and grinned, both aware that Cody had already been speculating on the possibility of being alone with the young lady for several days in the mountains.
“What about you, Pa?” Cody protested. “You’re gonna need help with the cattle.”
“Not for the little while you boys will be gone,” Donovan replied. “If Miss Morris don’t mind, I’ll have you wait till day after tomorrow, so you can move the horses to the other side of the river. If I need help after you’re gone, I can get Jesse and Howard to give me a hand.” Elwood Bailey’s two sons had helped before on occasion. The last time was with the spring branding.
“Of course I don’t mind,” Roberta replied at once. “I’m just so grateful for your help, especially for the services of your three sons. I know I’ll feel a whole lot safer. I just hope I’m not causing you a problem to have them gone.”
Unable to resist the opportunity to tease, Jug said, “Don’t worry, little brother. Cullen and I will be there to look after you.”
Cullen detected a twinkle of amusement in Roberta’s eye. She glanced in his direction in time to catch him gazing at her, and favored him with a smile. Embarrassed, he looked quickly away. Turning to his father, he voiced his concern about the rumors of Chief Joseph’s flight through the valley. “I don’t know how long we’d be gone,” he said, “and you might need us here.”
“I ain’t worried about the Nez Perce. I’ve been friends with Chief Joseph for a long time.” Donovan smiled reassuringly. “We’ve bought a lot of horses from his folks.”
Thunder Over Lolo Pass Page 3