Ambush of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

  Sarah joined them at the table after making sure that no one she knew was in the place. After the waitress had taken their orders and placed coffee for all of them on the table, Sarah spoke. “Now, what’s so all-fired important that you wanted to meet here in the middle of the day where everyone in town can see us together?”

  Jacoby sat back, waiting for Macklin to speak. “Well, I had a talk with Jensen today,” Macklin said.

  “You what?” she exclaimed, almost yelling. When several patrons turned to glance at her, she sat back and tried to calm herself down. “What did you do, Mac?” she asked in a calmer tone of voice, but it was clear she was still furious.

  “Don’t get upset, Sarah,” Macklin said, shushing her as he looked around to make sure no one was watching them any longer. “I didn’t tell him anything I just wanted to get a feeling for the feller, that’s all.”

  Sarah’s face was flushed with anger. “And did you, Mac?” she asked in a lower voice this time. “Did you get a feeling for the man who killed my brother?”

  Macklin glanced at Jacoby, who nodded, and then he leaned forward, speaking earnestly. “Yes, I think I did, Sarah, an’ I don’t think he did what everybody in Pueblo thinks he did.”

  She sat back, a look of astonishment on her face. “You don’t think he shot Johnny down?”

  Macklin also sat back, trying to think how he could convince her of what he felt was the truth. “Oh, I think he probably shot Johnny,” he said. “But I don’t think it was in cold blood or that he ambushed him. Jensen is too fast to have to do that. In fact, he’s plenty fast enough to have killed Johnny and all the others in a fair fight.”

  Her mouth fell open in astonishment. “And just how did you determine this, Mac?” she asked sarcastically. “Did you walk up to him and say, “By the way, Mr. Jensen, I’d sure like to see how fast you are on the draw. Could you oblige me and show me your moves?’”

  Macklin flushed in embarrassment. He wasn’t used to anyone talking to him like this, especially not young women who were still wet behind the ears. “No, Sarah, I didn’t do that. I just prodded him a little until he drew on me. That’s when I saw how fast he was, and believe me, it was plenty fast.”

  Sarah looked around, shaking her head. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered, as if to herself. Then she looked up and stared into Macklin’s eyes. “Let me remind you of something you’ve evidently forgotten, Mac. You work for my dad, and he sent you here for one reason, and that is to kill Smoke Jensen or to guard my back while I do it. Isn’t that right?”

  Macklin nodded reluctantly. “Yes, but I think Angus and you are both wrong about what happened that day. And if Jensen killed Johnny in a fair fight, which Johnny probably started, then I don’t think Jensen should be killed for it.”

  Sarah slowly sipped her coffee, her eyes burning into Macklin’s. After a moment, she turned her gaze to Jacoby.

  “Is this how you feel also, Carl?”

  Jacoby nodded. “Yes, it is, Sarah. We’ve both looked into this before you got here, and everyone in this town thinks Jensen is straight as an arrow. They don’t have one bad thing to say about him, and no one in this town would ever believe he’s a backshooter or ambusher.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what I think,” she said, her voice low and hard. “I think you’re both full of . . . well, hot air.”

  Jacoby reached his hand across the table and tried to put it on hers. “We just don’t want you going off half-cocked, Sarah, and either killing an innocent man or getting yourself shot up.”

  Sarah moved her hand away from Jacoby’s, her lips tight. “This is going to take some thinking about,” she said. “I’ll send a wire to my dad and see what he thinks about all this. I may have to ask him to send me some more help, men who know their place and are loyal to him.”

  “Be careful what you say in a telegram,” Macklin warned. “Remember, everyone in this town knows Smoke Jensen.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, Mac. You got other things to be worried about, like what my daddy’s going to say when I tell him you’ve gone over to the other side.”

  “Aw, Sarah,” he said, but she held up her hand.

  “Now, get out of here, the both of you. I’ve got some thinking to do.”

  After they left, she called the waitress over and ordered two pieces of the sweet cakes. One for Peg and one for her.

  While she waited for her order, she sat there thinking on how she could word a telegram so her daddy would know what was going on without letting the telegrapher know what she was doing.

  As she sat there, she wondered just what it was about Smoke Jensen that enabled him to fool so many people into thinking he was a good man. It never crossed her mind that perhaps they were right about him and that she and her father were wrong.

  ELEVEN

  Cletus Jones pulled his mount to a stop in a cloud of dust in front of the MacDougal ranch house and jumped to the ground. He had a feeling the telegram he’d picked up in Pueblo from Sarah MacDougal was important enough to need Angus’s immediate attention.

  Cletus had been MacDougal’s foreman for as long as he could remember. They’d both come out here to Colorado Territory back when there were more Indians that white men, and had fought hard to carve a ranch out of the wilderness.

  Cletus had been best man for Angus MacDougal’s wedding, and he was godfather to both of the old man’s children—now there was only Sarah since Johnny was dead.

  As he ran through the front door, Mrs. MacDougal called out, “Cletus, don’t you go running on my hardwood floors that’ve just been waxed!”

  He tipped his hat and smiled, but didn’t slow down appreciably as he headed toward the study/office where Angus could always be found this time of day.

  Angus swiveled around in his leather high-backed chair and regarded Cletus with raised eyebrows. “Who lit a fire under your saddle, boy?” he asked in his rough, gravely voice. Cletus was just about the only man on the ranch that Angus would allow to burst in on him unannounced.

  “I got this here message from Miss Sarah, Boss,” Cletus said, pulling a wrinkled yellow envelope from his breast pocket. It was wet with sweat from his rapid ride from town. “The telegraph man said it came in yesterday but it was too late to get it out here by then.”

  Angus frowned, but didn’t say anything as he slit the envelope with a thumbnail and pulled out the telegram. At first, he’d been very angry at her for taking off after Smoke Jensen on her own without consulting him. But after thinking about it, he’d realized he would have expected a son to do it, and Sarah had always been as good as, and often better than, his son had been at managing the ranch.

  He smiled and opened up the folded yellow sheet of paper. After a moment spent reading it, he swiveled around and stared out the window, thinking.

  Cletus was bursting with curiosity to find out what Sarah had done about Smoke Jensen, but he knew better than to interrupt the old man while he was thinking. Even though Cletus had been with Angus MacDougal since the early days when they’d fought off Indians and rustlers and road agents together while founding the MacDougal spread, and even though he was the kids’ godfather, since they were pups he’d never thought much of Johnny. He knew he was and always had been a spoiled brat. However, Cletus thought Sarah was one of the prettiest and nicest womenfolk he’d ever known. Hell, if he’d been twenty years younger and hadn’t been like family to her, he’d’ve made a run at her himself.

  After a moment, Angus turned his chair back around, crumpling the paper in his fist. “Get your gear together and gather up the best ten men you can find, Cletus. You’re gonna take a little trip down to Big Rock.”

  When Cletus nodded, Angus turned back to his desk and picked up a pencil and paper. “And send little Jimmy in here. He’s gonna need to ride to Pueblo and send my daughter an answer to her wire.”

  “Uh, Boss, what do I tell the men we’re gonna go to Big Rock for?” Cletus asked.

  Angus MacDougal smiled gri
mly. “Tell ‘em you’re gonna go down there and pick up a skunk and bring him back here to me to deal with.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cletus said, though he really didn’t understand just what the old man meant about picking up a skunk. Hell, they had plenty of those around here if’n he wanted one.

  Cletus was loyal to the bone, but sometimes he was dumb as a post.

  Three days later, days Macklin spent holed up in his hotel room lest he run into Smoke Jensen or one of his friends again, a bellboy knocked on the door to Jacoby’s room and handed him a handwritten note.

  Jacoby opened it and read; “Meet me at our usual dining place after the noon rush at three o’clock.” It was signed with only an S.

  Jacoby tipped the boy a nickel and went next door and knocked on Macklin’s door. When he answered, Jacoby showed him the note. “We’ve got about an hour till three o’clock. That ought to give you time to get freshened up a mite,” Jacoby said, wrinkling his nose as he looked at Macklin’s disheveled attire and unshaven face.

  His friend had been in a funk ever since the day Jensen scared him half to death by drawing on him and Sarah had chewed his butt about going against her father’s wishes.

  “Yeah, all right,” Macklin said in a dull voice.

  “You got to snap out of it, man,” Jacoby said. “We got work to do.” He knew that Macklin was still ashamed that he hadn’t had the courage to draw down on Jensen when he had the chance. Jacoby had tried to explain to him that it wouldn’t have done any good, and that the only result would have been that Mac would now be deader than yesterday’s news. Still, his friend was not accustomed to backing down from anyone, least of all the man who’d killed his best friend and his boss’s son.

  “That is, if I ain’t been fired,” Macklin said, and shut the door in Jacoby’s face.

  It was five after three and the Sunset Café was almost deserted when Macklin and Jacoby joined Sarah at their usual table in the rear. Jacoby was thankful that Macklin had shaved and washed up before the meeting. He didn’t want Sarah to see how his friend had declined in mental attitude since his run-in with Smoke Jensen.

  Sarah had already ordered, so the men sat down across the table from her and told the waitress to just bring them whatever she was having, though they both wanted coffee instead of the hot tea she favored.

  After the waitress left, Sarah placed a telegram on the table so they could both read it. It said:

  I AGREE FULLY WITH YOUR IDEA STOP WILL SEND SOME MEN TO HELP YOU ROUND UP STOCK AND BRING THEM BACK HERE TO RANCH FOR FURTHER EXAMINATION AND FINAL DETERMINATION OF THEIR DISPOSITION END

  Macklin raised his eyebrows. “Just what does this mean, Sarah?”

  She took a bite of her food and washed it down with her hot tea. “I telegrammed my father and told him I was having trouble rounding up the stock he was interested in and that I needed some more help, and that the beeves should be transported to the ranch rather than being slaughtered here.” She inclined her head at the paper on the table. “You can see his reply for yourselves.”

  Jacoby leaned forward. “So what are you saying? Your dad’s gonna send some men here to take Jensen prisoner and bring him back to the ranch in Pueblo?”

  She smiled and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Yes, that’s exactly what it means. I didn’t figure the three of us would be able to get the drop on Jensen and get him all the way back to Pueblo by ourselves.” She hesitated, glaring at them through narrowed eyes. “Especially considering the rather friendly feelings toward him you two have been showing.”

  “Sarah,” Macklin said, shaking his head. “This is crazy. Kidnapping is a hanging offense.”

  “So is murder, in case you’ve forgotten what he did to my brother,” she snapped in reply. After a moment, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She needed their help, and there was no need getting them so angry they might refuse it.

  “Besides, since both of you seem to have some notion that Jensen is not guilty where it comes to my brother’s death, I would think that you’d be glad Daddy has consented to us bringing Jensen out to the ranch and letting him tell his side of it.”

  Jacoby and Macklin glanced at each other. They both knew that wasn’t the reason old Angus MacDougal wanted Jensen brought to him—it was more likely so the old man could have the pleasure of putting a bullet in Jensen himself, or worse, torturing the poor son of a bitch. Knowing the old man as they did, they didn’t figure he’d just shoot Jensen and be done with it without first causing the man a good deal of pain and humiliation. Angus had been around long enough to have fought Indians in the old days, and to hear him tell it, he’d learned some interesting ways to torture a man from them.

  “All right, let’s say for the sake of argument that you are right,” Jacoby said. “Just how do you think a gang of men are going to show up here in Big Rock and not bring a lot of attention to themselves so that when Jensen disappears they are not suspected?” He shook his head. “Hell, they’d have a posse on our tails ‘fore we got fifty miles.”

  “That’s easy,” Sarah said, a note of triumph in her voice as she bent her head and began to eat her meal. “They’re not coming into town.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right, because you and Mac are gonna ride out on the trail from Pueblo and camp out until the men get here. You’ll tell them to wait out there until I can bring Jensen to them.”

  “And just how in blazes do you expect to do that little trick?” Jacoby asked, while Macklin just stared at her through bloodshot eyes.

  Sarah leaned back and smiled seductively while fluffing the lace ruffles on the front of her blouse. “Well, a woman’s got her ways to get a man to do what she wants.”

  Jacoby laughed. “Bullshit, Sarah!” he exclaimed, flushing at his use of profanity in front of a woman. “Jensen may be a lot to things, killer included, but I can tell you this, the man is no womanizer. He don’t even look at other women, ever!”

  Sarah blushed and went back to her meal. “Well, don’t you worry, Mr. Smart-aleck. You just go out there and wait for the hands my daddy is sending. I’ll get Jensen there one way or another, and I’ll do it so it’ll be a while before anyone knows he’s missing.”

  Jacoby and Macklin looked at each other, both thinking that Sarah had gone round the bend. There was simply no way she could get the drop on a man like Smoke Jensen, no way at all, they thought.

  As they walked back to their hotel, Macklin shook his head. “Now I know I should have killed Jensen.” He turned tortured eyes on Jacoby. “Sarah is gonna mess around and get herself hurt or put in jail.”

  Jacoby smiled grimly. “I think you underestimate Sarah, Mac. Remember, she’s Angus MacDougal’s daughter, an’ she’s always been twice as smart and four times as tough as her brother ever was.”

  “Yeah, but Jensen’s an experienced gunslick, Carl, an’ he didn’t get to be as old as he is by letting anyone, girls included, get the drop on him.” He sighed. “Hell, I couldn’t even watch him in a crowded saloon without him knowing exactly what I was doing. The man has eyes in the back of his head and the instincts of a mountain cougar.”

  Jacoby shrugged. “You may be right, but I don’t know what the hell we can do about it.” He smiled again. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to go over there an’ tell Sarah she’s full of beans and that you think she ought to stick to cookin’ an’ such an’ leave the rough stuff to us real men if you want to.”

  This last made even Macklin throw back his head and laugh. “No, thank you, Carl, ‘cause I do relish my cojones, and Sarah would sure as hell rip them off if I ever suggested there was something Angus MacDougal’s daughter couldn’t do as well as any man working for ‘em.”

  As they walked up the stairs to their hotel room to get packed and do as Sarah had told them to, Jacoby glanced sideways at Macklin. “Tell you what, pardner. I’ll bet ten dollars Sarah does get Jensen out there, an’ I’ll give you two-to-one odds.”

  Macklin shook his hea
d. “Nope. I learned a long time ago not to waste my money bettin’ against a MacDougal, male or female.” He sighed as he came to his door, and looked back over his shoulder at Jacoby. “You got any idea how she’s gonna do it since, like you say, Jensen don’t chase no skirts?”

  Jacoby gave a short laugh. “No, but knowing Sarah, I wouldn’t put it past her to just walk up to him and pull a gun out of her purse and stick it in his face.”

  “You really think so?”

  Jacoby wagged his head. “Hell, Mac, I don’t know. Predictin’ what a woman’s gonna do is like predictin’ which way a frog’s gonna jump—you’re gonna be wrong at least half the time.”

  TWELVE

  After Angus straightened him out on the real reason he was sending him to Big Rock, Cletus, picked ten of the toughest, meanest men they had working for them on the ranch. More than a few of them had once ridden the owlhoot trail and knew their ways around firearms. A couple had even spent time in the territorial prison for murder and mayhem.

  As the gang of men sat on their horses in front of his house, Angus addressed them from the front porch. “Each of you men will receive a healthy bonus for this work. In fact, I’ll pay you two months’ wages for what should only be a couple of weeks of easy work.”

  Jason Biggs, one of the men who’d done time in prison and had no compunctions about killing, called out, “What if this man Jensen should give us some trouble or try to escape?” He grinned, revealing brown cigarette-stained teeth. “You want us to shoot him if’n that happens?”

  Angus stared at Biggs through flat, hard eyes, noting that unlike most cowhands, Biggs wore his six-shooter down low on his hip. Angus shook his head. Back in the old days, punks like this would’ve been run out of town on a rail by the citizens. “Should any of you take it upon himself to kill this man and deprive me of the pleasure of getting my hands on him, I will personally see that you experience what one of our bulls does when it is gelded. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Biggs?”