The Hen House

by Sharon Sala

  The men dismounted and began unloading the shipment as Eulis started toward the cabin. But when he saw Letty leading her horse out of the shed behind the house, and that she was packing his gun, he knew she was up to something.

  His eyes narrowed a warning as he watched her mount up, but she ignored it and him. It took the men a little longer to realize something was afoot. They were talking and jesting among themselves as they moved about the area, then one by one, they noticed the Missus was mounted and armed. The sight was enough to set the hair on the backs of their necks to rising. In their opinions, a woman with a loaded gun was more dangerous than a rabid dog, especially this woman.

  When Letty had their full attention, she shifted the rifle from one arm to the other, and then laid it across her lap, making sure that they saw her hand was damn close to the trigger.

  “Gentlemen… and I use that term lightly… it has come to my attention that some of you have been talking loosely about me and my husband. There is supposition flying about on the streets of Denver City that gold can be had from this mine if a man is smart enough to steal it.”

  There was a collective gasp, then icy silence. They wouldn’t look at each other, nor would they look at Letty. Instead, they chose to study the footprints that they’d left about in the yard, as well as those leading into the mine.

  “So, here’s the deal,” Letty said. “If any among you are thinking about just such a thing, then I’m giving you fair warning. Leave now and it will not be held against you. Stay, do your worst, and you will suffer the consequences.”

  A squirrel suddenly scolded from a stand of trees a few feet away, as if debating the truth of what she’d just said, but she ignored it, just as she was ignoring the frowns on the men’s faces.

  “Hear me now. I swear to you, in front of God and the man who is my husband, that if any one of you steals so much as a nugget, or tries to harm a hair on his head, I will shoot you dead, nail your balls to a tree, and scatter what’s left of you to the wolves.”

  The Hen House

  Book Three of

  The Whippoorwill Trilogy

  Sharon Sala

  Copyright

  The Hen House

  Copyright © 2007, 2014 by Sharon Sala

  Special contents and Electronic Edition © 2014 by RosettaBooks LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Book Cover: Kim Killion of HotDAMN Designs

  www.hotdamndesigns.com

  ISBN ePub edition: 9780795337888

  Dedication

  Finally, it’s done. The last book in the trilogy that I began so long ago.

  Like Letty, so much has happened in my own life since the first book, Whippoorwill, was written that it sometimes seems as if it happened to another person.

  I’ve changed. I’ve loved. I’ve lost. I’ve grieved.

  And always, I’ve had the knowing my family was there, ready and willing to offer whatever I needed at the time to survive.

  I’ve been blessed in ways too numerous to count, but the most precious blessing I’ve ever been given was being part of my wonderful family.

  To Mother, who is always there for me. To Kathy and Ashley, and their sons Daniel and Lee—To Chris and Kristie, and their daughters, Chelsea, Logan, and Leslie—to Crissy and Andy, and their daughters Destiny, Devyn, and Courtney—to the Shero family and to the Smiths—to the Sala family to which I once belonged—and to my Bobby, who left me behind to pick up the pieces of my heart—I can only say that were it not for you all, my life would have been a lesser, sadder existence than the feast you’ve let it be.

  Thank you. Bless you. Love you.

  Contents

  Rich Man-Poor Man

  Beggar Man

  Thief

  Doctor

  Lawyer

  And One Sorry Ass Judge

  Merchant

  Chief

  To the Death

  Promises Kept

  Ashes to Ashes

  A Reason to Care

  Beyond Her Wildest Dreams

  Enemy Within

  Soldiers and Patriots

  Rock A Bye Baby

  A Rooster in the Hen House

  Epilogue

  Letty Murphy had come to the gold fields of Denver City as a single woman, and had gone through more hell in her twenty-nine years than she would have ever thought possible. She’d nearly starved as a child, and had sold herself to a man for money before she’d managed to grow breasts. She’d fallen in like with a gambler who’d up and gotten himself killed, then bedded a preacher from back East who’d died in her bed.

  In a moment of genius, she’d cleaned up Eulis Potter, the town drunk, passed him off as the preacher, and saved herself from a hanging. She’d seen just about every low class behavior that humanity could inflict upon itself and survived it all.

  But that was before she and Eulis had traveled to Denver City, survived a buffalo stampede, a smallpox epidemic, an attack from a half-starved wolf, discovered gold, and gotten married.

  It wasn’t just Letty’s last name that had changed now, even though she had money—more money than a person could spend in several lifetimes. It was her situation that had changed, although she had yet to come to terms with the power and respectability that money can buy. There was still that part of her childhood self that listened each night for a whippoorwill’s call, while struggling with the memories of being a fifty-cent whore.

  RICH MAN-POOR MAN

  It was the dead skunk Harley Tatum’s dogs were dragging down the main street of Denver City that was causing everyone to wrinkle their noses in disgust. But it wasn’t the biggest stink in town by a long shot. The news that Eulis and Letty Potter had struck a gold bonanza had also struck a nerve.

  The news had gone through the tent city faster than last winter’s smallpox outbreak, evoking just about as many emotions. Tempers flared. Envy set in like a splinter under a fingernail, burning and festering until something was bound to pop.

  Every no-good in the territory converged on the swiftly growing town to see if they could wrangle a way to divest Eulis and Letty of their newly found wealth. Others tried to corner them when they’d come in from the mine in hopes of getting a grubstake or a handout, or—as a last resort—the possibility of a job.

  Eulis had grown tight-lipped and stern, fearing that he would not be able to protect the mine, although he’d made sure that it was registered in Letty’s name, since she was the one who’d actually found the gold. And, he’d gone out of his way to do the same with the land they’d claimed on a bluff overlooking Denver City, and the house they were having built on the property. It was all in her name.

  They’d been working the mine for more than three months now, but Eulis was nervous about the conversations he kept overhearing from his own employees, and from the whispers he heard when he went into town. It appeared that the hired hands were not above trying to steal a little of the gold for themselves. Eulis heard talk from a friend here and there that the men claimed the Potters had so much gold that surely they wouldn’t miss the occasional smuggled nugget.

  He had kept his fears to himself, unaware that, not only had Letty also heard the gossip, but she was bound and determined to be the one to put an end to the talk, and the fear of God in every man who worked for them.

  ***

  Spring had finally come to the Rockies, although the high peaks were still snow-capped. Rivers were gushing with overflow—running wild from the snow-melt above the valley. Tiny purple flowers, hardly more than two or three i
nches high, were popping up through the winter mulch of dead grass and leaves. Color had come to the mountains in the form of bright red cardinals, sassy blue jays, and the soft buckskin color of spotted fawns. Trees other than the prevalent evergreens were budding. Plum thickets were awash in pale blossoms more white than pink, promising a bumper crop of fruit in the coming months.

  It was into this scene that Letty emerged, ignoring the scandalous glances of the few decent women by wearing men’s pants and accouterments, and riding astride, as a man would have. Her hat was wide-brimmed and black. Her hair was long and wavy, but tied back at the nape of her neck with a piece of blue ribbon—her only concession to femininity.

  She wore a permanent expression of ‘don’t piss me off’ and had become quite a marksman with a gun. She didn’t have time to preen or be prissy. Eulis had hired some men to work their mine and it was not only her right, but her obligation, to set them on the right path.

  ***

  A new shipment of track for the ore carts, and new lumber to shore up the tunnel had come in on the last freight wagon. Milton Feasley, the owner of the dry goods store, had sent word to Eulis the day before that his order had arrived. Eulis went into town early this morning to meet the men before they left for the mine, and get them to help bring out the load.

  Letty was at the mine alone, tossing out dishwater when she saw movement from the corner of her eye. As she turned, she saw Eulis and the men coming down from the ridge, into the wide, verdant valley leading to their old home, and the mine beside it.

  Even as she was looking forward to living in a fine home, there was a part of her that was still sentimental about the tiny, one-room cabin where they’d wintered. She’d found herself, and found love there, and was loathe to let that go.

  She often watched the workers from time to time, and felt as if they were constantly considering a way to steal. She knew that, if given a chance, there were at least three of them who would try, and one who would most likely kill to have what they had. Moral turpitude was sadly lacking in most of the available workers. The diligent were already engaged in working their own claims or trying to set up as shopkeepers.

  Letty and Eulis had to make do with what they had, so she’d made a pact with herself last night as she’d watched Eulis sleeping so soundly beside her. She never thought she would have a life like this, and with a man who treated her like a proper lady. There was no way she was going to take a chance on having it taken away from her by some good-for-nothing lout. As soon as the workers arrived tomorrow, she intended to make a few things plain. Then, if they wanted out when she was finished, there would be no hard feelings or retribution taken.

  Originally, the entrance to the mine had been inside the old cabin, but as soon as they’d started working the mine and hauling ore into Denver City to the smelter, they’d dug a new opening away from the cabin, giving them some privacy, and eliminating the aggravation of bringing the ore out through the home. Now that Eulis and the men were coming back with the shipment, it was time to put her plan into motion. She dried her hands, got the rifle and was outside waiting when the men finally arrived at the mine.

  To a man, they flinched. Some paled a bit at the threat of an armed woman, while the others heard the truth of her words. Eulis would swear later that, at that moment, he felt a physical shift in their behavior. As for himself, he was torn between the urge to grin, and an overwhelming pride.

  Damn, but he’d sure picked himself a winner. His Letty was something else and that was a fact.

  Letty leaned forward just the least little bit and then smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile and all twelve men knew it.

  “Is there anything about what I just said that you don’t understand?” she asked.

  Twelve men answered in unison.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Are any of you planning to give me any trouble?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Well then… that’s that. Do have yourselves a good day.” She shifted her gaze to Eulis. “Husband, I would appreciate a word with you before I go.”

  Eulis arched an eyebrow. She wasn’t in the habit of asking permission from him to do anything. Still, this was her show and he wasn’t going to ruin it for her. He took off his hat as he followed her a short distance away.

  “Reckon you laid it on a mite thick?” he asked.

  Letty turned in the saddle and stared back at the men.

  “No. Those red-headed Scotsmen will be good workers. The three men who call themselves the Dorsey brothers would steal you blind, and that tall, skinny man with the dirty blonde hair is a killer.”

  Eulis looked askance. “Do you know him?”

  “No. Just his type,” Letty said.

  “Reckon I should fire him?” Eulis asked.

  Letty thought about it for a moment, then shook her head.

  “No. Probably better to have him under your nose, than out hiding behind some tree waiting for a chance to back shoot you.”

  “I know,” Eulis said. “We’ve got to have workers and we ain’t exactly in a place bursting at the seams with men who are willing to mine someone else’s gold.”

  “Just be careful,” Letty said.

  Eulis grinned and then winked at her.

  “I’m always careful, girl. You mind yourself, too.”

  Letty nodded. “I’m going to ride up to the new home site and see how the work is coming along. I’ll see you later.”

  Eulis watched her ride out across the valley and up into the trees. When he returned to the men, they were suddenly acting as if they’d taken vows of diligence. Before long, they’d fallen into a kind of rhythm that boded well for the mine. Eulis took it as a good sign.

  Meanwhile, Letty’s trip to the new home-site had taken a sudden turn for the worse. She had just ridden up to what was going to become their front yard when her horse did a fancy little sidestep, reared up on its back legs, and promptly dumped her into the dirt.

  She’d already discovered that the men who’d been working on the property were not on the premises, which meant they’d gotten themselves another grubstake and were out trying to strike it rich. The way she figured it, their big fancy house might never get finished, what with all the fools suffering from gold fever.

  Cursing the horse and all manner of males, she was dusting herself off and reaching for her hat when she became aware of a rustling in the undergrowth. Well aware that there were grizzlies fresh out of hibernation, as well as all manner of two-legged varmits, she ran for the horse to get her rifle.

  The horse shied once as she made a lunge for the dangling reins and would have bolted if she hadn’t caught them. Yanking hard on the bridle, she pulled the horse to a halt, grabbed her rifle out of the scabbard, and aimed it toward the bushes. Within a matter of seconds, a bone-thin, half-grown pup of questionable heritage came slinking out on its belly.

  Letty didn’t know whether to be relieved or disgusted. The pup stunk to high heaven—all the worse for wear because of a previous bout with a skunk. It was a brown and white short-hair, obviously part hound, with huge feet, floppy ears, and the beginnings of mange. She could count every rib. The humane thing would have been to put a bullet in its head right then and there, but it would have been easier to shoot a man, than a helpless animal who meant her no harm. She tried threats instead and began waving her arms and shouting.

  “Get, you mangy critter! Go on! Get away before I put a bullet between your eyes!”

  The pup whined as it continued to belly crawl until it had crawled all the way to her feet. At that point, it gave a big groan and rolled over on its back. Submission was all it had to offer and gave it gladly.

  Letty rolled her eyes and then stomped her foot.

  “Go on now, I said! Get! Get!”

  The pup added another soft whine to the belly he’d bared.

  “Oh, for the love of—”

  Something rattled in the grass behind her. Before she could turn, the pup had sprung to its feet
and lunged past her, barking and snarling like a dog gone mad.

  She saw the rattlesnake at the same moment that her horse reared up and bolted. Before Letty could aim her gun, the pup had the snake in its mouth, shaking it like a rag doll. Just when she feared the pup was going to get bitten, it turned the snake loose.

  It went flying, like a thick brown piece of rope, coiling and uncoiling as it sailed through the air.

  Letty blasted the head from the body in mid-air. The silence that came afterward was deafening.

  Her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t hear herself breathe. Every hair on the pup’s back was standing up like the quills on a porcupine’s back.

  She lifted a shaky hand to her forehead, swiped away the hair that had come loose from the ribbon and jammed her hat back on her head.

  “Well now,” she muttered, still eyeing the half-starved pup.

  Hearing her voice, the pup turned and looked up at her, as if waiting for a sign.

  Letty sighed.

  The pup took the sound as some inner signal. Within seconds, the hair on his back smoothed out like the feathers on a duck’s back.

  “Well now,” she said again.

  The pup wagged its tail once, like a soldier wagging a white flag of defeat, then sat down without taking its eyes from her face.

  Letty eyed the dead snake, cursed the horse she was going to have to retrieve, and then squatted down until she was eye level with the pup and offered her hand. To her delight, the pup reached out a paw, as if it understood what was meant, and together, they exchanged a handshake.

  It was a silent, but irrevocable understanding. Without another word, Letty stood up, shifted her rifle to her other hand and started walking toward what was left of the snake.

  No longer cowering, the pup followed at a hasty trot, confident that no more begging was needed. Letty frowned, and then glanced up, eyeing the direction in which her horse had gone.

  “I don’t intend to walk all the way back to the valley, so let’s go get that blasted horse.”