“They must trust you very much to leave the store in your hands all alone.”
She dipped her head, embarrassed by the compliment, especially as it came from a man she was all set up to hate. “Yes, sir, I guess they do.”
Cal moved up next to Smoke and also dumped a load of supplies on the counter, almost stumbling over his feet since he seemingly couldn’t take his eyes off Sarah.
When the boy just stood there staring, Pearlie, standing behind him with his arms also loaded down, cleared his throat loudly. “If you don’t mind, podnah,” he said with a hint of a laugh in his voice, “I’d like to put these down when you’re finished gawkin’.”
Cal whirled around, his face bright red. He leaned forward and thrust his face out. “I ain’t gawking, Pearlie, an’ don’t you dare say I am.”
“Calvin,” Sarah called, “do you want me to add those things you’re holding?”
Cal turned back around and put his supplies on the counter. “Uh, yes, ma’am, but everybody just calls me Cal.”
Sarah smiled, forgetting for the moment her hatred of Smoke Jensen and everyone who worked for him. Cal was very cute, she thought, and he seemed so shy she just wanted to grab him and cuddle him like a little puppy.
Her soft mood was ruined when Smoke stepped up to the counter and said, “Just put it on the Sugarloaf bill, if you would, Sarah.”
When she nodded, not looking at him for fear her hatred would show in her eyes, Smoke and Cal and Pearlie began to pick up the supplies and carry them out to the buckboard in front of the store.
Once the wagon was fully loaded, Smoke climbed up on his horse and inclined his head toward Louis Longmont’s saloon. “Why don’t we grab lunch over at Louis’s?” he asked.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Pearlie said, “Though we’d better save some room for Miss Sally’s bear sign. She told me yesterday she was gonna cook up a batch today.”
“Uh, I wouldn’t count on that, Pearlie,” Smoke said as he spurred his horse toward Louis’s saloon.
Pearlie slapped the reins on the butts of the horses pulling the buckboard and caught up with Smoke. “Oh, that’s right. You said Miss Sally was fixin’ to go on one of her diets.” He looked over at Smoke. “Now what in blazes could make Miss Sally think she was getting too fat?”
“Well, to tell the truth, it’s my fault.”
“What do you mean?”
“This morning I was fooling around and I teased her that she wasn’t as light as she used to be.”
Pearlie groaned. “Oh, no! Don’t tell me you was fool enough to say somethin’ like that to a woman?”
Smoke nodded. “Yep.”
“Damn!” Pearlie groaned. “You ‘member last time Miss Sally got to feelin’ fat?” Pearlie asked.
Smoke glanced at him, wondering how any of them could forget that terrible time.
“She didn’t cook no biscuits nor bear sign nor pancakes for near about two months.” Pearlie shook his head in sorrow. “Greens an’ carrots an’ vegetables was all we had to eat, an’ I swear I ‘bout had to threaten the hands with my six-gun to keep ‘em on the job till she got over that foolishness.”
“I remember,” Smoke said. He forced a hopeful look on his face. “Maybe this time she won’t stay on it too long.”
“Yeah, an’ maybe pigs’ll learn to fly too,” Pearlie added morosely.
Cal gave a short laugh. “I guess ol’ Pearlie’ll be findin’ lots of reasons to come to town. ‘Member last time, Smoke? He came to town at least ever, two or three days so’s he could eat at Louis’s.”
“It was the only way I could keep my weight up enough to keep my pants from falling down around my ankles,” Pearlie said, laughing at the memory.
“Yeah, an’ you spent just about all your wages on food, so when you needed a new pair of boots you had to borrow the money from me,” Cal said, laughing.
As the three men entered Louis Longmont’s saloon, Daniel Macklin and Carl Jacoby watched them from an alley up the street.
“Now’s my chance,” Macklin said, pulling out his Colt and checking the loads once again, even though he’d just done it back at the hotel that morning. He was nervous as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs, but he was too proud to back down now that he’d told Jacoby what he had in mind.
“You’re not gonna try for him in Longmont’s, are you?” Jacoby asked. “He’s in there with all his friends. You won’t stand a chance.”
“No, I’m not gonna take him in there. I’m gonna wait until he comes out of the batwings. His eyes won’t be used to the brightness an’ he’ll be half blind for a minute or two. That’s when I’m gonna pull iron on him. Once he’s down, I’ll jump on my horse and hightail it toward Pueblo.”
“How will you know when he’s coming out?” Jacoby asked, watching the front of the saloon. “You can’t just hang around the doorway an’ wait. Someone’ll see you and get suspicious. Hell, you might even get arrested for loitering.”
“You’re right,” Macklin said, his brow furrowed as he thought about how to do it. Jacoby was right. He couldn’t just stand at the window peeking in, or Jensen would surely see him and get suspicious.
“I know. I’ll go in an’ have me a beer or two at the bar. When I see Jensen getting up to leave, I’ll walk out right ahead of him and when he comes through the batwings, I’ll be waitin’ for him out front.”
He turned to Jacoby and stuck out his hand. “I know you don’t much agree with me on this, but it’s the only way I can think of to keep Sarah from getting herself hurt by trying to do it herself.” He paused. “Besides, I owe it to Johnny and our other friends he cut down to do something about it,” he added, his voice trembling just a bit.
“I know,” Jacoby said, taking his hand. “And once you’re gone, I’ll explain it to Sarah and send old man MacDougal a wire tellin’ him you’re on your way.”
As Macklin nodded and turned to leave, Jacoby added, “Good luck, Mac.” He thought but didn’t say out loud, you’re gonna need it!
He didn’t really think he’d have to wire Angus that Macklin was on his way, for he knew as sure as shooting that Macklin was going to die this day.
Jensen hadn’t survived this long by letting men surprise him outside saloons.
NINE
Louis and his chef Andre were laughing at Smoke’s description of how life was going to be on the Sugarloaf with Sally on a diet. “You know, fellahs, dieting seems to make women cranky, and when Mamma’s not happy, nobody’s happy,” Smoke said, a morose expression on his face. “I just can’t believe it,” he added. “I come back from six months out in the wilderness eating with mountain men and trappers”—he paused and looked at them—“and you have no idea of just how bad that can be, and then I come home and say something stupid and kill any chance I have of getting something good to eat for a change.”
“Well, my friend, from what you’ve told me,” Louis observed dryly, “it’s your own fault she feels like she has to lose weight.”
“I know, I know,” Smoke said. “Why couldn’t I keep my big mouth shut?” He looked around, seeking support. “I was just teasing. Hell, Sally isn’t fat. In fact, she’s trim compared to most other women her age.”
Louis laughed and shook his head while holding up his hand. “Now hold on, Smoke boy. Don’t tread on that snake.”
“What do you mean?”
“A woman is even more concerned with age than with weight, so don’t ever say “a woman of your age’ to Sally.”
The men at the table all laughed at this, realizing Louis was correct. “In fact,” Louis added, “were you to make such a grievous mistake, I predict you’d not only not be eating, you’d not be doing anything else with Sally for quite some time, if you get my drift.”