“Why don’t we just ride the 45 horses?” Ted suggested.
Smoke had anticipated that. He shrugged massive shoulders. “You can if you want. But there might be trouble in the days ahead.”
They both smiled. “I ’spect there will be,” Stony said. “But we’ll face that when the time comes.”
“Fine. Get yourselves something to munch on.”
Sally, Toni, and Jeanne had handed him a shopping list…for new jeans and men’s work shirts. If they ever rode into town decked out like that, they’d scandalize the territory—and they probably would ride in just like that. Do it for pure spite.
The wagon was going to be groaning and squeaking when it pulled out.
“You’re not riding back with the wagon?” Harris asked.
“No.”
“You’re crowding, Smoke. You know that?”
“I sure do.”
“What if my brother comes riding hell for leather into town with about forty hands while you’re here?”
“Be a hell of a fight.”
“You’d fight forty men!”
“If they pushed me to it.”
Exasperated, the sheriff stalked away, muttering to himself. Smoke watched him go, smiled, and then stepped across the street to the saloon. As soon as he entered, men, women, and small boys and girls crowded the boardwalk, peeping through the windows of the saloon. Actually, he planned on leaving shortly after the wagon. He just liked to needle Harris Black. Basically, Smoke felt the man was a decent sort. He just had a bastard for a brother, that’s all. And blood was thicker than water. Smoke thought it best to bear that in mind.
He drank a beer and left, walking up to the doctor’s office. He’d dug the slug out of Jeff’s leg, and there was no sign of any infection, and he’d set Harvey’s arm—the man refused to come in and see the doctor. Said he didn’t trust them. Smoke wanted some medical supplies just in case. While he was there, he had the doctor look at his shoulder. It was healing nicely and nearly all of the soreness was gone.
The doctor insisted upon checking Smoke’s head where the bullet had grazed him. He looked disgusted when he found the slight wound was nearly healed.
“You have amazing recuperative powers, Mr. Jensen.”
Smoke gathered up his medical supplies and was walking back to his horse when he heard the thunder of hooves. He stowed the supplies in the wagon and stepped up onto the boardwalk in front of the emporium.
“His Majesty, himself,” Stony said, rolling a cigarette. “Lord of the county and all you can see. Clint Black and some of his gunslicks.”
“I can’t stand to see a man abuse a horse that way,” Smoke said. “No need in it. Any man who’d deliberately abuse an animal is a no-good.”
“Clint likes to shoot dogs,” Ted said. “Just for the hell of it. I had me a little mutt when I worked for him. He killed it. I hate that son of a bitch.”
Harris Black and his deputy suddenly appeared, walking up the boardwalk, both of them carrying sawed-off shotguns. Takes a mighty foolish man to go up against a sawed-off, and the sheriff knew it.
Clint Black jerked and fought the reins and came to a dusty halt facing the men on the boardwalk. His own riders left and right of him.
Smoke fanned the dust. “You always this inconsiderate of other people, Black?” he asked.
Clint ignored that. “I found my men hoofing it back to the ranch. You’re Jensen, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, Black, I’m Jensen. And yeah, I took your hands’ horses. Got a clear title to them. And yeah, I put lead in some loudmouth named Ron.”
“That’s it!” Harris said, cocking both hammers to the shotgun. “There will be no trouble in this town. Damn you, Clint. I sent a note for you to stay clear of Blackstown. I know you can read, ’cause mother taught us.”
“Me? You order me to stay clear. I built this town, damn you. I brought the people in. I brought the stage in. I own the bank.”
“Oh, that’s something else that slipped my mind, Sheriff. You met my wife, Sally? Well, she is a woman of considerable wealth. Comes from a long line of bankers. And the Duggan twins, you know, I’m sure, are quite wealthy. So we decided, last evening, that this town needs another bank. That empty building right over there will do nicely, I’m thinking. I’ve got to send a wire off and start making arrangements.” Actually, nothing of the kind had been discussed. But it would be discussed at length that night. And Smoke knew Sally would jump at it and in all likelihood, so would the Duggan twins.
Clint looked like he was working himself up into a good case of apoplexy. His eyes were bugging out and his face was turning red.
“Why are your ears red?” Smoke asked him.
“My ears are not red!” Clint yelled.
“Oh, yes, they are,” Smoke said. “Don’t you think the man’s ears are red, boys?”
“Sure are,” Stony said. “Look like two little jugs of beets.” He stared. “Well, maybe not so little.”
“Red as can be,” Ted said. “Looks plumb funny to me.”
“Both of you saddle bums shut up. Another bank!” Clint yelled. He sputtered for a moment. “You can’t do that.”
“Who is going to stop me?” Smoke asked in a calm tone of voice. “You?”
“Back off, Clint,” Harris said in a warning tone. “If another bank wants to come in, there is nothing you can do about it. Is that understood?”
The citizens of the town had gathered left and right of the confrontation. Those in front and back of the volatile situation had cleared out, getting away from the line of fire. Stony and Ted stood left and right of Smoke, the three of them facing Clint and his dozen or so rowdies.
“How’s the feet of your de-horsed boys?” Smoke asked the rancher, smiling as he spoke.
“Don’t worry about it,” Clint replied, regaining what composure he had left him, which was very little when he didn’t get his way in any given situation. “I hear you’re accusin’ me of raidin’ your camp. I didn’t have a thing to do with that, Jensen. And if you say I did, you’re a damn liar.”
“I say you did, Black,” Smoke told the man and everybody else who was close enough to hear. “I say you gave the orders to kill men, women, and kids. And that makes you snake-low and dirty. You don’t have the nerve to do your own fighting. You’re a coward, Black. Step out of that saddle and fight me. Right here and now.”
The sheriff walked between the men. He put his back to Smoke and faced his brother. “Take your men and get out of town, Clint. Right now. Leave now or I’ll put you in jail.”
“On what charge?” Clint asked. He wanted to leave, wanted desperately to leave. But how to do that without losing face in front of the townspeople and his men? Clint was many things, but a fool was not one of them. After getting a good look at Jensen, Clint, for the first time since he was a boy, had experienced fear. And he hated himself for it.
“Refusing to obey the orders of a peace officer,” his brother told him. “Now take your men and leave. Jensen, you do the same. And do it right now.”
“All right,” Smoke said. He looked at Clint. “Some other time, Black. Let’s go, boys.”
With his brother and his men heading in one direction, Smoke and his hands going in another, Harris eased the hammers down on his sawed-off and his deputy relaxed.
“All you did was put it off for another time,” the deputy said. “It’s bound to come.”
“Yeah, I know,” Harris said. “But I got it out of town.” He stepped back, leaned the shotgun against the building, and rolled a cigarette. “My brother was scared this day,” he remarked, lighting up. “I saw fear on his face.”
“Hell, who wouldn’t be scared?” The deputy bit off a chew from a plug. “Jensen would have been killed, for sure, but he would have emptied eight or ten saddles before he went down. A man that size can take a lot of lead.”
“What bothers me is that a scared man will do desperate things, Harry. My brother took water this day. I gave him a way out, but
he still took water. He was shamed this day, and he’ll not forget it. He was always a vain and a vengeful person.”
“Well…like you say, we got it out of town.”
Riding back to the valley of death, Smoke asked the new hands, “You boys know of other men who might like a job?”
“I know of a few,” Stony said. “And I ’magine Ted knows of several.” Ted nodded his head.
“OK. You two veer off now and find them. I’m offering top wages and the best food you ever put in your mouth.” He dug in his pocket and handed Stony a wad of bills.
Stony looked at the money and whistled. “How do you know we won’t just take that money and clear out, Smoke? That’s two years’ pay for most hands.”
Smoke grinned. “I’m a good judge of character, Stony. See you boys later on.”
The new hands headed off, leaving Smoke and the boys and the heavily laden wagon. “Ol’Waymore hates Clint Black,” Stony said. “He’d jump at this chance.”
“You bet,” Ted agreed. “And I was thinkin’ ’bout Rich and Malvern.”
“They’ll do to ride the river with. How about Paul and Cletus?”
“Suits me. Say, I just remembered something. Jud accused Joe Owens of stealin’ that time. Pistol-whipped him.”
“Yeah. And Joe never stole nothin’ in his life. His shack ain’t a mile from here.”
“I think we got the makin’s of a pretty good crew and don’t none of ’em live more’un a half hour away. We could be back in time for supper.”
“Let’s go round ’em up, then. I’m hungry!”
10
Stony and Ted showed up at the camp in the valley just at sundown. They brought with them the most disreputable-looking bunch of men Toni and Jeanne had ever seen. Sally had lived nearly all her adult life in the West, and she knew that appearances could be very deceiving out here. She suspected these new men were top hands who, for whatever reason, had been blackballed for employment in this area by Clint Black. Turned out she was right.
“We just didn’t cotton to takin’ orders from the likes of Clint Black and Jud Howes and that pack of gunslingers they got workin’ out on the Circle 45,” Waymore said, accepting a plate of food.
“They’s other smaller ranches scattered all over this country,” Cletus added. “But Clint’s got them buffaloed. Didn’t none of them dare hire us. We don’t hold no grudges against them for it. Man has his entire life put into a small spread, well, he can’t stand up to a rich and mean person that has forty or fifty gunslicks on the payroll. Or men who fancy themselves slick with a short gun.”
“Mighty good grub,” Malvern said. “Best I think I ever eat.”
“When was the last time you did eat, Mr. Malvern?” Toni asked.
“Just Malvern, ma’am. Mal for short. Oh, I been eatin’ regular. Seems as how one of Mr. High and Mighty Clint Black’s cows wandered over to my place and fell down. Broke its leg and I had to put the poor thing out of its misery. It was the Christian thing to do. I can’t stand to see no animal suffer. And it seemed right foolish of me to just let all that meat go to waste. So I butchered it and ate some and smoked and jerked the rest. Then, lo and behold, about a week later, durned if another one of Mr. Black’s cows didn’t come over to my place and fall down. Right in the same spot. Poor thing broke its leg. Well, I had to end its sufferin’, so I shot it, too. This has been going on for about six months. Now, since Mr. Big Shot Black has forbid me from ever settin’ foot on his land, there just wasn’t no way I could get word to him about his cows. It’s really put me in a state of confusion.” He shook his head. “And I do try to do right by my fellow man, ma’am.”
Toni looked at him for a moment, then slowly smiled. “You, Mr. Malvern, tell big whackers.”
“Occasional, I do, Miss Toni,” Mal said with a grin. “Occasional, ’deed I do.”
The next week went by in a blur of work, with everybody who was able pitching in and rounding up cattle and stampeded horses. Smoke would work until noon and then go off exploring. The bodies of his men had to have been dumped somewhere, and he was determined to find that location.
On the afternoon of the seventh day, he found a boot. Smoke swung down from the saddle and knelt down by the ripped boot. he ran his hand over the dead leaves that were all around it.
Dead leaves? In the middle of summer? He swept them away and looked at the clear impressions of hooves. Leading his horse, he began following the trail of dead leaves that led upward. Someone had gathered up great handfuls of leaves and scattered them over the tracks. He climbed on. Now he could clearly see the tracks of horses and something else, too: a clear path where bodies had been dragged up this way.
It had gotten back to Smoke that Clint had been saying Smoke had made the attack up. That there were no bodies, so how could an attack have ever taken place?
Smoke began carefully looking around him as he moved along the ridge. Here the trail was harder to follow because of the rocks. Then the smell of death reached him.
He picketed his horse on a small stand of grass and walked on, the smell growing stronger. He could see the mouth of the cave now, and he walked to it. The smell was very nearly overpowering. He picked up a dry branch and tied twigs to the end of it, using some dead vines and then lighting the brand. It would only burn for two or three minutes, but that would be time aplenty.
He stepped into the mouth of the cave and almost lost his lunch. He struggled to keep it down. Smoke walked into the foul semigloom. He did not have to walk far. The first body he found was that of fourteen-year-old Rabbit. Then he saw the others, all piled like garbage. He walked back out into the sweet air. He was sweating and mad clear through. He stood for a moment, composing himself, and then rode back down to the valley, stopping the first hand he found.
“Cletus, ride for town and fetch the sheriff. Tell him I’ve found the bodies of my men…and boys.”
It was late afternoon when the sheriff arrived, and growing dark when Smoke pointed out the cave. “I hope you have a strong stomach,” Smoke told him. “You’re going to need it.”
The sheriff and two of his deputies lit torches and stepped inside. Harry came out much quicker than he entered, kneeling by the side of the mouth of the cave and puking.
Harris Black came out. He was badly shaken by what he’d just seen. He leaned against a tree and struggled to regain his composure. Smoke walked over to stand by the man. All work had stopped and everyone was gathered around the cave, as close as they could get without being overpowered by the terrible smell.
“I’ll bring Doc Garrett out with me in the morning,” Sheriff Black finally said. He refused to meet Smoke’s steady gaze. “I want him to see this and write up a report. This is the worst thing I have ever seen. Horrible.”
“Maybe this will shut your brother’s mouth.” Smoke spoke the words harshly.
Harris said nothing.
“You know he’s responsible for this, don’t you, Sheriff?”
Harris remained silent.
“How long are you going to keep covering for him, Sheriff. How long?”
Harris wiped his sweaty face with a handkerchief, wiped the sweat band of his hat, and plopped it back on his head. “I won’t stand for vigilante action, Smoke.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of that, Sheriff. Your brother has already cornered the market.”
When Dr. Garrett emerged from the cave, he was pale and badly shaken. He had to sit down on the ground for a moment before he could speak. He finally took a shuddering breath and looked up at Smoke and the sheriff.
“I’ve ordered canvas to be sent out from town. I’ll ask for volunteers to help place the bodies on a tarp and wrap them. Once they are out in the light, I will inspect each body more carefully. Then I would suggest they be buried close by. Perhaps on that flat right over there.” He pointed. “Their names could be chiseled on the face of that huge rock, or perhaps on the face of the mountain itself. That’s up to you.” He shook his head. “The bodies are
in a terrible state of decomposition. Thirteen men and boys, trampled and shot. My God, it’s hideous. It’s…unthinkable. The man behind this must be mad. Mad, I tell you!”
Sheriff Black opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. He turned and walked away.
Dr. Garrett looked up at Smoke. “You’re going to start a war over this, aren’t you, Mr. Jensen.”
Smoke shook his head. “The war has already begun, Doctor. And I didn’t start it.”
“The families of the men and boys?”
“I’ve wired them. Services have already been held down home.”
“I don’t know what else to say or do, Mr. Jensen.”
“Time for talk is over. As for what you can do. you can stock up on medical supplies. I think you’re going to be treating a lot of gunshot wounds.”
Smoke left the rounding up of the cattle in the hands of his men. He kissed Sally and saddled up the next morning. No one spoke to him. No one had to. Nearly everyone in the camp knew what he was going to do. His face was hard and uncompromising as he swung up into the saddle. He pointed his horse toward town and rode off without a look back.
“What is he going to do, Sally?” Jeanne asked.
“He’s going to make war,” she replied, busying herself washing dishes.
“By himself?” Toni asked.
“Smoke Jensen is a one-man army, missy,” Denver said, drying a plate. “He’s tooken on meaner odds than this. ’Sides, this is real personal for him. He feels responsible for what happened to them men; ’specially the boys.”
“But if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s ours,” Jeanne said.
“No, it ain’t neither,” Denver said. “And don’t you be thinkin’ that.”
“Denver is right,” Sally said. “You had no way of knowing something like this would happen. Neither did we. Only Clint Black and his men had knowledge of it. The responsibility for it lies squarely on their shoulders. I think Sheriff Black is covering for his brother, but I don’t believe he knew about the ambush—until after it happened.”
Absaroka Ambush (first Mt Man)/Courage Of The Mt Man Page 34