That was enough to light Dubose’s fuse. He drew his .44 and stuck it in Dewey’s face. “Whoa, there, partner!” Hog blurted, and he and Red quickly grabbed Dubose and pulled his arm back. “Simmer down. Hell, he said he’s new. He don’t know Blossom and Bertie from anybody else.” Turning to Dewey, whose face was suddenly drained of any color, he said, “He don’t mean nothin’ by it. He just ain’t had his breakfast this mornin’. Take him over and set down,” he said to Red. When Dewey appeared to have recovered from his fright, Hog questioned him. “My friend is lookin’ to meet his wife here in Helena and she’s a friend of your boss. She’s travelin’ with her mama and a young girl. You see anybody like that? Mighta come in lookin’ for your boss? It woulda been in the last day or two.”
“I ain’t seen anybody like that,” Dewey said. “This ain’t the only saloon in town. Maybe they went to one of the others.”
Hog doubted that, and he believed the bartender was telling the truth, so he concluded that they had been chasing a bad idea. The three women went somewhere else. He paused and thought about it—or maybe we got here before they did. He remembered joking about it the night before. Maybe they did pass them on the road, when the women had pulled off to camp. That was a possibility and something to consider, although it would surprise him if the three women were careful enough to hide their exit from the trail. “Anyway,” he said to Dewey, “my friend don’t normally act like that. He don’t mean you no harm. The three of us need some breakfast. You got any coffee, anythin’ to eat with it?”
“I can fix you up with something to put in your belly,” Dewey said. “We’ve got coffee, and Daisy, she’s my wife, bakes up biscuits every morning. So if that’ll do, I’ll tell her to bring you out some. If you want a full breakfast, you can get that at the diner next to the hotel.”
“Fine,” Hog said. “That’ll do just fine.” He was already thinking they would be in town for a while until they decided for sure that the women weren’t coming to Helena. And there was no use in causing trouble in this saloon and end up getting the sheriff involved. “All right, then, I’ll go over there and sit down with my friends. If you’d tell your wife to bring us out some coffee and biscuits, we’d surely appreciate it.”
“What was all that jawin’ about?” Dubose asked when Hog came to the table.
“I was tryin’ to make sure that bartender didn’t send somebody to get the sheriff,” Hog said. “You damn fool, there ain’t nothin’ like makin’ an announcement to the whole damn town that we’re here, and we’re lookin’ to shoot a woman.”
“That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell him,” Red insisted. “He still thinks they’re hidin’ ’em somewhere.”
“Hell, they ain’t hidin’ nobody,” Hog said to Dubose. “That bartender don’t know Bertie Brown.” He glanced over at Red. “I got him to bring out some coffee and biscuits. Maybe that’ll settle ol’ Dubose down a little while we decide what we’re gonna do. After we get somethin’ in our bellies, we can look over the whole town, if you want.” He was looking straight at Dubose now. “But I’ll tell you what I think. I think we got here before they did in that wagon.”
Red shrugged and considered the possibility. “We might have, at that,” he finally decided. “We made that trip pretty fast, almost cost me a good horse.” He paused to reflect. “One of the best horses I ever stole,” he said, thinking about that particular day. Back to the present, he nudged Dubose. “Whaddaya think, Zach? That makes sense, don’t it?”
Recovered somewhat from his need to shoot someone, Dubose raised his dark, brooding eyes from the table to meet Red’s gaze. After a long moment, he finally allowed, “Maybe you’re right.” After another moment, he decided, “That’s what happened. We just damn sure outran ’em.” He convinced himself that that was what happened, primarily because, if it were not the case, then he had no idea where else to look for Blossom.
Further discussion was interrupted at that moment by the arrival of Daisy Smith, who brought coffee and biscuits from the kitchen. “Pay Dewey,” she said when she placed everything on the table.
Hog grabbed a biscuit as soon as the plate hit the table. “Dewey? Is that his name?” He took a huge bite out of his biscuit. She nodded. “And your name’s Daisy. Ain’t that right?” She nodded again, not really interested in making conversation. He chuckled, spraying bits of biscuit out of his mouth. “Damn, that’s the driest biscuit I ever et,” he said, and took a gulp of coffee to wash it down.
“If you’d been in here this morning when they were baked, they wouldn’t have been dried out,” she said, obviously offended.
“I was just japin’ you a little, ma’am,” Hog quickly apologized. “The biscuits are fine, Daisy.” He laughed then, unable to resist teasing her more. “Dewey and Daisy, that’s a pair to draw to, ain’t it, Red? Better’n a pair of aces.”
Not amused, Daisy repeated, “Pay Dewey,” turned, and returned to the kitchen.
“Damned if you ain’t still got a way of charmin’ women,” Red said with a laugh, as he eyeballed Daisy’s ample bottom all the way until she disappeared through the kitchen door. “I wonder if she’s for sale. She don’t look half-bad.”
“You never can tell,” Hog remarked. “Maybe she might be ol’ Dewey’s money crop. Why don’t you ask him?”
“I’ll let you do that,” Red came back, “since you’re already in so good with him and his wife. Then if she’ll give you a ride, I reckon she’ll give anybody one.”
“Why don’t you two shut the hell up?” Dubose interrupted, his anger beginning to flare again as his impatience wore thin. “Let’s finish up here and go have a look around town. They might already be here.”
“All right,” Hog said. “But I need a little drink of whiskey to get rid of the taste of that coffee. How ’bout you, Red?”
“Couldn’t hurt, at that,” Red replied. He signaled Dewey to bring a bottle over, ignoring Dubose’s scowls.
CHAPTER 4
At approximately the same time Zach Dubose and his two friends were finishing off their breakfast with a couple of drinks, Bertie’s wagon was parked beside a creek five miles short of town. Breakfast, considerably better than the dry biscuits enjoyed by their pursuers, was finished as well, and Hawk walked to the edge of the creek to get the horses. “Well, looks like you’ll soon be rid of me,” he said when he looked up to see JoJo coming to help. “It ain’t but about five miles from here to Helena.”
“That’s what I came to tell you,” she said. “I wish it was a hundred miles to Helena. I don’t wanna get rid of you.”
Her statement startled him, leaving him unsure how to respond. “Is that right?” He stumbled for appropriate words. “I didn’t know you were enjoyin’ the trip so much—thought you’d be anxious to get to Helena, like Bertie and Blossom.”
“It ain’t about gettin’ to Helena, or gettin’ away from Zach Dubose,” she said. Having made up her mind to do it, she was determined to lay her heart bare for him, for she knew he would be leaving soon. “I wanna go with you.” When she saw the surprise in his eyes, she said, “I don’t care. I said it and I mean it. I won’t be no trouble. I’ll help you and do for you.”
Shocked as never before, he searched for words that wouldn’t come to mind. “I swear, JoJo . . . I mean, you can’t go with me. That wouldn’t be a decent life for you. I’ve got nothin’ to offer a woman. Hell, I’m gone most of the time, scoutin’ for an army patrol, or off on some job, like the one that caused me to be up in this part of the territory, never knowin’ when I’d be back.” He could see the rejection in her face, but he didn’t want to tell her that she was no more than a child in his eyes. It was possibly the worst situation he had ever been in, for she was plainly hurt. And that was the last thing he wanted to do, for she had been hurt so many times in her life.
“I know I ain’t very pretty,” she started, but he cut her off.
“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with the way you look,” he insisted. “You oughta be g
lad you’re a little late comin’ along, ’cause when you do start to bloom, you’ll be head and shoulders above the rest of the ladies your age. I guarantee it. And you’ll be mighty glad you didn’t throw your life away following an old saddle tramp like me around.”
“You ain’t a saddle tramp,” she said, now with a definite resolve in her tone. “And you ain’t old. You’re the finest man I’ve ever met. I just want you to know that.” With that, she ended the proposal and returned to her usual air of cheerfulness, although it did nothing to ease the pain he felt for her. She had been rejected before, many times, and she was accustomed to picking herself up again. He was now more anxious than ever to complete this task he had taken upon himself and get back to Fort Ellis. “I’ll let you get away this time,” she said, teasing him now. “But when I start to bloom, like you said, I just might pluck that feather outta your hat one day.”
“You might at that,” he responded.
With Helena now only a few miles away, Bertie and Blossom were eager to get started, so they had the wagon packed up when he returned with the horses. So impatient were they, they started rolling before he had saddled Rascal. “Go ahead,” he said when Bertie stopped momentarily. “I’ll catch up.”
* * *
Sam Ingram was tending bar, having relieved Dewey Smith while his bartender was sitting in the kitchen having dinner with his wife. He glanced up when someone came in the front door. “Well, I’ll be go to hell!” Sam blurted. “I don’t believe it!” He came out from behind the bar to greet them. “Bertie Brown!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t think you’d really show up here. Come here!” She stepped forward to receive a great bear hug from the overjoyed man.”
“Hell, I told you I was comin’,” Bertie said when he released her.
“Who’s this?” Sam asked then, looking at Blossom. “Is this your daughter?” Bertie nodded vigorously. “I swear, I wouldn’t have known her. She wasn’t much older than this other little girl last time I saw her.” He turned to Blossom. “Welcome.” Then, glancing at JoJo, he added, “You, too, honey.”
Blossom gave him a smile and said, “Thank you, we’re mighty glad to be here.” Her relief when they finally rolled into town had been spoiled somewhat when they passed a saloon next to the post office and an unusual horse tied at the rail happened to catch her eye. It was a spotted horse like the one Zach was so proud of, and the sight of it gave her a start. She had to remind herself that Zach was up near Fort Benton somewhere and nowhere near Helena. Now she was safely in the Last Chance Saloon, she could forget about her husband.
One who was not especially glad to see them hesitated for a few moments, but decided she might as well make a show of welcome. “Meet Gladys Welch,” Sam said when she walked up. “She’ll be glad to have you helping out around here.”
“I know Gladys,” Bertie said. “How are you, honey? It’s been a long time since Cheyenne, ain’t it?”
“I reckon it has,” Gladys said. “But I can still kick pretty high.”
“Well, that’s all that counts,” Bertie said, and gave her a wide smile, while thinking to herself that Gladys’s days were running short now that she was here. Turning her attention back to Sam, she said, “This young lady is JoJo Feeley. She’s a willing worker at just about any job and she’s interested in maybe joining us in our profession.”
Like most people meeting JoJo, Sam was surprised to hear that. “Well, looks like we’ll have to fatten her up a little.” He returned his attention to Bertie. “I’ve got a couple of rooms upstairs that you can move in.” He paused, then asked, “You three women come down from Great Falls all by yourselves?”
“No, we had a fellow, name of Hawk, who came with us to make sure we got here all right,” Blossom answered.
“Hawk?” Sam reacted at once. “John Hawk—big fellow, wears a feather in his hat?”
“Yep, that’s the man,” Bertie replied. “You know him?”
“Sure do. Rides scout for the army. He’s been in here a time or two.” He laughed then. “Did you pay him, or did he take it out in trade?”
“No,” Bertie started, but was interrupted by JoJo.
“Hawk didn’t touch anybody,” she declared. “And he didn’t ask for no money, either. He done it because he’s a gentleman.”
“That’s a fact,” Bertie said. “He didn’t ask for anything.”
“Well, I declare,” Sam said, “this has sure turned out to be a good day. Where’s all your things?”
“We pulled our wagon around behind the building,” Bertie said. “There’s a few pieces of furniture I brought with me. Hawk offered to come back to help us carry our stuff in, but I told him he’d done enough just gettin’ us here.”
“Let’s go have a look,” Sam said. “I’ll see if my bartender has finished eating his dinner.” He started toward the kitchen door just as Dewey walked out. “Come meet some friends of mine,” Sam said. He had not told Dewey about his efforts to persuade Bertie to come help him in Helena because he really wasn’t sure Bertie would come.
Dewey immediately thought of the other three strangers who had been in the saloon earlier that day. He stared at the three women for a moment before commenting. “You must be the folks those fellers were asking about this morning,” he said.
“What fellers?” Bertie asked, at once alarmed. Blossom grabbed JoJo’s shoulder for support.
“Three fellers,” Dewey said. “They stayed here awhile eating biscuits and drinking coffee. One of ’em stuck a gun in my face when I told ’em you weren’t here. The two fellers with that hothead pulled him back. They said he was looking for his wife. I think she was supposed to meet him here. Acted like they were friends of yours, Sam.” Dewey was suddenly aware that he had set off a bomb. Bertie was obviously distressed and JoJo had to help Blossom to a chair when her knees threatened to fail her. Confused and dismayed when he began to fear that Bertie had somehow brought some trouble to his doorstep, Sam just looked from her to Blossom, searching for an explanation. Dewey tried to remember anything that might further explain the incident. “They didn’t give their names,” he said. “But I heard them call one of ’em Hog. He’s the one who did most of the talking.”
Blossom gave a whimper at the mention of that name. “Hog Thacker,” she said. “He rides with Zach. They’ve found us. I’m as good as dead.”
“Not yet, you ain’t,” Bertie exclaimed, regaining some of her fight. “They’re gonna have to go through me to get my daughter!”
“And me, too!” JoJo cried with equal defiance.
Not at all comfortable with the way his morning had turned, Sam said, “I think you’d best tell me what the hell’s going on, Bertie. Do I need to send somebody to get the sheriff?”
“You might at that,” Bertie confessed. “Believe me, Sam, I didn’t mean to bring our troubles to your door. I don’t know how they knew we were comin’ here. I guess I’d best tell you the whole story.”
After hearing the reasons Bertie felt compelled to help her daughter escape from a man as brutally insane as Zach Dubose, Sam could readily understand her motive for coming there. And while he could have wished she had gone somewhere else, he could not in good conscience turn her away. “All right,” he decided. “Dewey, go on over and get Porter Willis. It sounds like we’re gonna need the sheriff. We can unload your wagon later. Just get anything you need right now. I think it would be best if you ladies go to my room behind the kitchen. We’ll move you upstairs after we’re through dealing with those men.” Dewey left at once to fetch the sheriff. Sam looked at Blossom then. “We won’t take any chances, but maybe those men moved on when they didn’t find you here. Dewey said they were here this morning. That’s been a while and they ain’t been back. Anyway, we’ll get Sheriff Willis over here and let him know what’s going on.”
“You don’t know how much I appreciate your help, Sam,” Bertie said to him. “I wouldn’t have blamed you one bit if you had thrown us out. I’ll get my rifle out of the wagon, then I’
ll be right behind you.”
“Make it quick,” Sam said, and led Blossom and JoJo toward the kitchen and his quarters behind.
* * *
With no notion that the three women he had accompanied to town were in desperate need of the protection he had provided on their journey, Hawk sat at a table in Sophie’s Diner. As he had hoped, the attractive owner of the dining room did, indeed, remember him and welcomed him back graciously. “Are you gonna be in town awhile this time?” Sophie asked him.
“Well, that depends, I reckon,” he replied. “I ought not. I oughta been on my way back to Fort Ellis three days ago, but I couldn’t pass up a chance to sample some more of your cookin’—see if it’s as good as it was last time.”
“Is that right?” she asked coyly. “Well, how is it?”
“Every bit as good,” he said.
“Well, I’ll have to tell Martha,” Sophie confessed. “She really does most of the cooking.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a request for more coffee at a table on the opposite wall where some men were eating. Sophie went to get the coffeepot, and Hawk found himself admiring the way she carried herself. When she disappeared into the kitchen, his gaze shifted to the men at the table. There were three of them. They had come in the diner at the same time he had and he noticed then that they were a rough-looking trio. They weren’t cowhands. Of that, he felt certain. Two of them were loud and seemed to find a lot to laugh about. The other one was a dark, brooding man, seemingly oblivious to the conversation between his two companions. Hawk couldn’t help thinking about Blossom and her mother, running from Blossom’s abusive husband. Someone about like any of those three, he thought, recalling the description JoJo had given him. The thought of JoJo naturally brought to mind his uncomfortable parting with the childlike young woman. He sincerely hoped she would somehow find a happy path to travel, something better than being a common whore. His thoughts were brought back to the present when one of the three men got up from his chair and announced that he had to go to the outhouse, loud enough to inform everyone in the dining room.
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