by Jake Logan
Something Inhuman
“You don’t think it was an animal?”
Womack shook his head. “Any animal that could have torn those men up like that would have done so for a reason. It would have tried to make a meal out of those two or dragged ’em off somewhere to save for later.”
“Could be the horses and cart scared it away,” Slocum offered.
“Could be, but I’ve done some hunting and have found it takes a bit more than riding down a road to frighten anything other than a rabbit or deer. Something as vicious as whatever tore up those two would have stood its ground or stayed to protect its kill.”
“A man, then. I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”
“Whatever the hell it was, it don’t get to tear apart two of my men and live to see another sunrise.”
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SLOCUM AND THE BEAST OF FALL PASS
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2014 by Penguin Group (USA) LLC.
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PUBLISHING HISTORY
Jove mass-market edition / February 2014
Cover illustration by Sergio Giovine.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
All-Action Western Series
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
1
Bennsonn was a town with only a few small things in its favor. One of those things, and easily the biggest, was the lumber mill around which the entire town had been built. It provided the steadiest stream of jobs and funds for the town while also bringing business into the entire county. Another element in Bennsonn’s favor was its tranquil nature upheld by two different lawmen, who each had a few deputies working beneath him. It may have been a lot of law for such a small place in Oregon, but the mill was a valuable enough asset to warrant that kind of protection.
While Bennsonn had three saloons and the rowdies who were drawn to such places, the lawmen kept them in line. The trees surrounding the town on three sides were thicker than fleas on a stray dog’s hide and never seemed to thin out no matter how many were chopped down and dragged across the mill’s spinning saw blades. Most folks who lived there kept to themselves, helped their neighbors without much of a fuss, lent a hand wherever it was needed, and were in bed by a reasonable hour. Even the collection of three saloons that made up the town’s entertainment district did a fairly good job of making sure any revelry didn’t spill too far out into the street.
Eliza Yates normally liked the town’s fragrant air and silent nights. At least, she did when she’d first arrived. After settling in and working at a tanner’s shop for almost a year, she got an itch that she couldn’t scratch. The discomfort ran deeper than her skin and made her feel like a dog gnawing at the rope that was keeping it from running free. For her, Bennsonn had stopped being quiet and had gotten boring. Since she didn’t have the means to pack her things and find somewhere else to live, she did the next best thing and forged a new life right there in town.
As it turned out, all she needed to do was visit the town’s saloons looking for work. She wasn’t interested in doing the sort of work saloon owners normally wanted from a young woman with Eliza’s pretty face and generous curves. After a bit of sweet talk to one establishment’s owner, however, she landed a spot dealing faro.
The Second Saloon had one floor with drinking and gambling as well as a second floor that rented rooms to anyone looking for a place to sleep or to men indulging in what was provided by the women who did more than just deal cards to customers. Working there for most of her days and nights gave Eliza a different outlook on many things. She met folks other than the ones who rode into town to buy dry goods or trade the furs they’d collected from the woods and mountains scattered throughout Oregon’s wilder lands. Even if she crossed paths with some of the same trappers and locals as before, Eliza now saw them in a different light as they kicked up their heels and gave in to their baser desires. The change was exactly what she’d needed.
Not all the men who found Bennsonn did so in search of tranquility or a job at the mill. Some of the strangers passing through carried guns on their hips and knew how to put those weapons to use. Eliza found those men a little frightening at first but very intriguing. She got plenty of chances to speak to them since those fellows were also the ones who brought money to gambling tables. They took risks and didn’t abide with an
yone taking anything from them. Eliza had even seen a few fights after working at the Second Saloon for less than a week. She liked the fights, although she would never admit as much out loud.
After eight months dealing faro, Eliza was no longer a stranger to the new life she’d chosen. She was recognized by most everyone who came in for a drink and didn’t flinch when she had to stand up to a randy drunk or a man who figured losing enough money at her table entitled him to put his hands on her. Folks were used to seeing her there, which meant many of the men confided in Eliza even more than when spilling their guts to Rolf the bartender. One such man had come to town two weeks ago, but had been working at one of the logging camps outside Bennsonn for a while longer than that. He was tall and rugged and wore his Colt as if it was a vital part of his body. When he stepped through the front door now, Eliza couldn’t help wondering about other parts of the man’s body.
The only other player at her table when the rugged stranger came in for his most recent visit was an old man who’d lost the last two hands. As the old-timer turned his pockets inside out looking for more money to put on his favorite number, Eliza met the rugged man’s eyes as he approached the bar. Another thing she’d learned about herself after a short time at the saloon was that she had no trouble holding a man’s attention.
Eliza had thick, shoulder-length black hair, which formed a smooth slope ending at the base of her neck. Her face was slightly rounded, and when she smiled, it lit up like a pale moon. Her skin, smooth and white as cream, was displayed nicely by dresses that were cut low enough to show her ample bosom. She couldn’t help brushing a few wisps of hair behind one ear when the rugged man across the room took notice of her. He grinned back at her before turning to face Rolf and order his drink. Eliza looked back at the old man at her table, knowing full well that the other one would be back sooner rather than later.
“What have you got for me, Dan?” she asked.
The old man shook his head while pulling a folding knife and watch from one pocket. “Don’t suppose I can bet with these?” he slurred in a voice that stank of stale beer.
“Sure you don’t have anything else?” she asked. “Rolf doesn’t like it when I try to guess how much something like that is worth.”
“I can tell you how much it’s worth.”
“Why don’t you try your other pocket first?”
Dan patted himself down and shook his head some more.
“Try your boot,” Eliza said. “The left one.”
Muttering under his breath, Dan bent down to pull up the cuff of his jeans so he could remove his boot. He overturned it and seemed more surprised than her when three silver dollars fell out to rattle upon the floor. “Well, I’ll be damned!” he said. “You know me better than I know m’self!”
“Of course I do,” she said with a smile. “I like to know my favorite players inside and out.”
The truth of the matter was that she didn’t know Dan any better than she did her other regulars. What she did know was that many of the men who stepped up to buck the tiger at faro weren’t professional gamblers. They were mostly locals who wanted a bit of excitement to go along with their liquor, and those were also the types who kept money in their boots. For some strange reason, it was more often the left boot. There was no telling why that was, so Eliza had chalked it up to one of life’s little mysteries.
“All right, then,” Dan said while slapping one of his dollars on the seven. “Let’s win enough to fill my other boot!”
“I’ll do my best.” Eliza dealt the hand without paying full attention. Her hands went through the motions and she only looked down at the spread to know what news to deliver. “Sorry about that,” she said while putting on an appropriate frown. “Your luck’s bound to change, though.”
“Damn right it is,” Dan said while placing another dollar on the same number. “Run it again!”
“You sure about that?”
“Far as I’m concerned, this here was found money. Found money is lucky money in my book. Run it again!”
“Here we go.”
At the bar, the rugged stranger was finishing the beer he’d ordered and was leaning with both elbows on the bar. Eliza admired him from behind and smirked to herself as she dealt the cards. As if feeling the intensity in her gaze, the man turned around to look in her direction and tipped his hat to her.
“That’s more like it!” Dan exclaimed.
Eliza looked down to see what she’d dealt and then looked again. “Sorry, hon,” she said while tapping the cards. “You lost.”
“I did?” Dan squinted down at the table and belched out a breath that was foul enough to make the entire table smell like spilled beer and sour milk. “So I did. Guess it’s been a long night. One more time.”
“Why don’t you take some of that found money back home and save it for next time?” she asked.
“Ain’t no need to save it, darlin’,” Dan replied while eagerly placing the same bet he’d already lost twice before. “Every day should be lived like it was yer last.”
Even though she was fairly certain Dan’s wife wouldn’t agree with that statement, she asked, “Run it again?”
“Run it again!”
She ran it again, taking her time since the rugged stranger was now making his way across the room toward her table. It didn’t take much to deal a hand of faro. Even so, she felt as if a few minutes passed as she tried to recall whatever she knew about the handsome man. He was a poker player and known to drink more than his share of whiskey on occasion. He’d also given a few of the girls in other saloons a tumble between the sheets. She’d heard some stories from one of her friends who worked across the street at the Axe Handle, a competing saloon that provided more women than card tables. What she’d heard in that regard only made her more eager to make the rugged man’s acquaintance.
“Hot damn!” Dan hollered. He squinted down at the table as Eliza shifted her focus back to where it belonged. After getting a second look at the cards that had been dealt, he slapped the table and said, “Hot damn! I really did win it this time!”
“You sure did. Here’s your fortune.” Eliza handed over the bit of money he’d won with a smile that grew even wider when she saw the rugged man standing directly in front of her and slightly behind Dan.
The man she’d been studying all this time was now studying her. He stood with a glass of whiskey in one hand and the bottle in the other. His Colt was strapped around his waist in a worn and battered holster. Before she could say anything to him, Dan pounded out an excited rhythm on the table and said, “Run it again! Run it again!”
Taking one breath was enough for the rugged man to catch a whiff of the stench billowing from Dan’s drunken mouth. He scowled and turned to look at what was happening at the poker tables.
“You really should be going home,” Eliza said.
“Why’s that?” Dan grunted. “Ain’t my money good here?”
“Of course it is.”
Taking a turn toward the melancholy as drunks were known to do, Dan sighed, “Then maybe you’re sick o’ lookin’ at me?”
Reaching out to pat his hand, Eliza said, “You know that’s not true.”
Someone had stomped into the saloon a moment ago, but Eliza had been too distracted to see who it was. There was no mistaking the voice now coming from the front part of the room, however. Dan’s wife may have been a petite woman, but she was anything but frail.
“I’ll just bet she ain’t sick of you, you damn fool!” the short woman hollered. Dan’s wife was less than ninety pounds soaking wet and had long silver hair tied behind her head so tightly that her face seemed to be made from stretched parchment. She walked like a man triple her size as she stomped toward the faro table.
Since Dan cowered when she approached, it was almost laughable when he said, “I can do what I please, woman!”
The old
woman grabbed her husband’s ear and pulled it as if she meant to tear it off his head. “You can do whatever you want so long as it’s at home and you don’t spend any more of our hard-earned money!”
“I found this money!”
“Then you should’ve brought it to me before coming here and handing it over to some saloon girl!” Glancing over to Eliza, she added, “No offense meant.”
“None taken,” Eliza said.
“But if you lay a hand on my husband, I’ll cut it off.”
The smile Eliza wore remained in place as she nodded and said, “Fair enough. I just deal cards around here.”
“Keep it that way, missy. As for you,” the old woman said to Dan, “you won’t be comin’ into town for a month if I have my say!”
Dan tried putting up a fight, if only to save face with his friends at the saloon. His efforts weren’t very successful since he was attempting them while being dragged toward the door by a woman nearly half his size.
Everyone in the place watched the show for as long as it lasted. Once Dan and his wife were out of sight and the door was shut behind them, drinking resumed and cards were dealt.
“That was quite a spectacle,” the rugged man said as he approached the table.
Eliza breathed easier, relieved that the old woman hadn’t frightened him away. “It sure was,” she replied. “No need for a stage when those two are around.”
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“No need,” she said. “I get my drinks for free. One of the benefits of working here.”
The man was even handsomer when he laughed. “That’s right. You must think I’m pretty stupid to say something like that.”
“Not at all!”
He stood at the spot where Dan had been and looked at the layout in front of him. He then looked up at Eliza and winked. “I’m not normally a man to play this game. Odds are tipped too far in the house’s favor.”
“What sort of games do you like?” she asked.
“Poker. Among other things.”
Eliza licked her upper lip and flushed when she realized what she’d done. Although she was no innocent when it came to entertaining men, she wasn’t anything close to brazen. “I haven’t played much poker,” she said. “But I can deal some faro for you if you like. Maybe the odds will be in your favor this time.”