Jacoby stared at Macklin. “I thought you was his best friend.”
Macklin shrugged. “I was, but that don’t mean I didn’t see how dumb he could be sometimes. Hell, my old pappy used to take a razor strop to me if’n I got outta line, an’ I soon learned to keep my mouth shut if’n I didn’t have something worthwhile to say.”
He yawned and got to his feet. “I’m gonna get those tents ready. Why don’t you fry us up some fatback and beans so’s we can eat ‘fore it gets too late?”
Jacoby grinned. “I want to know who elected me the cook of this little expedition.”
Macklin looked back over his shoulder as he began to unload their tents off their packhorse. “Hey, it don’t make no never mind to me. You can set up the tents an’ I’ll cook if’n you want.”
Jacoby thought about this for a moment. At least he’d be near the warm campfire if he was cooking.
“No, that’s all right. You do the tents, I’ll do the cooking.”
THIRTEEN
Sarah finished with the last customer of the day and proceeded to lock up the general store. Ed and Peg Jackson had been so impressed with her work that they were now giving her almost complete authority in the running of the store when they weren’t there.
Peg had grown to like her so much she’d even been hinting that if Sarah would like to attend Sunday services at their church, there were some interesting single men she would like to introduce her to.
When Sarah had finished putting the money and charge slips in the drawer behind the counter and extinguished all the lanterns, she stepped out the back door and pulled it shut behind her, turning a key in the lock. Moving quickly, she walked down the alleyway to the buckboard she’d put there in the early hours of the morning. She’d stolen the wagon from the livery stable the night before instead of just renting it. She didn’t want anything pointing to her to give a posse or any of Jensen’s friends any leads on where to look for him when he turned up missing.
She climbed up onto the hurricane deck and kicked the brake with her foot, releasing it. Clicking her tongue, she whipped the twin reins against the horses’ butts and urged them to get moving. It was just before five o’clock and the daylight was fading fast, and Sarah had a long way to ride—all the way out to the Sugarloaf Ranch.
She wasn’t sure just how she was going to handle getting Smoke Jensen under her control, but she knew she’d figure out something. She always had in the past. Her daddy had taught her well, never telling her how to do something, just telling her what he wanted accomplished and letting her figure out the best method to get it done.
About the only thing that bothered her about what she was about to do was the thought of Sally Jensen and how it was going to affect her. She’d liked the lady from the first moment she’d met her, and Sally had been kind and considerate to her. It was a shame that Sarah was going to have to break her heart, but it couldn’t be helped. Smoke Jensen was an evil man; he had to be to have done what he’d done to her brother.
As she bounced along in the buckboard, slowing as the light faded and the potholes in the road became less visible, she wondered how it was that an intelligent woman like Sally Jensen couldn’t see how bad her husband was. She shook her head. She’d seen it before, women so besotted with love that they took up with men no decent lady would even talk to, much less marry or fall in love with.
She often saw these pathetic creatures when she went to town, where they walked around with heavy makeup on trying to hide the bruises the brutes they’d married seemed to give them on a regular basis.
She tried to salve her conscience by thinking how much better off Sally would be without a man like Smoke Jensen. Heck, she thought, he probably beat her when he got drunk, like a lot of those men in Pueblo did to their wives. In time, Sally would probably thank her lucky stars that he was gone.
Feeling better, Sarah turned her mind to ways that she might be able to get the drop on Jensen without any of his hands or his wife knowing she was involved. Sally knew too much about her, including the city she was from, to let her know she was involved. She needed to get the drop on Jensen and get him out to the trail without anyone from Big Rock realizing she had anything to do with it.
She slipped her hand inside the purse lying on the wooden seat next to her, and let her fingers curl over the walnut handle of the snub-nosed .38-caliber Smith and Wesson pistol that lay nestled there. Though she’d never shot anyone before, she knew she was capable of it, especially when she thought of how pale and shrunken her brother had looked in his coffin when they’d buried him out on the ranch where they’d both grown up.
Her eyes filled with tears when she pictured Johnny lying there, looking somehow smaller than he had when he was alive and being his usual obnoxious self. Angrily wiping the tears away, she leaned forward and urged the horses on, anxious to do what needed to be done.
She pulled the buckboard to a halt when she saw the lights from the Jensens’ cabin through the trees. She knew from talking to Ed and Peg Jackson that the Jensens didn’t have any dogs or chickens near the house to raise an alarm, so she shouldn’t have any problem getting close to the house without being heard, as long as she was careful. She wasn’t sure what she’d do then, but figured she’d think of something—she always did.
She climbed down off the buckboard and bent over, pulled the rear hem of her dress up between her legs, and stuck it under her belt to make the dress look like trousers. She didn’t want it getting caught on any underbrush to leave traces of her having been there.
She took her pistol out of the purse, stuck it under her belt in the small of her back, and began to walk quietly toward the house in the distance, being as careful as she could not to step on any sticks or piles of leaves.
When she got to the house, she moved over under one of the windows and slowly raised her head up to peek inside. She saw Smoke and Sally talking quietly together as they ate supper at the kitchen table.
Occasionally, one or the other would smile and laugh softly at something the other said. Sarah pulled her head down and squatted under the window, wondering what she was going to do now. If worse came to worst and she didn’t get another chance, she’d have to go inside the house and take them both, though she really didn’t want to do that if there were any other way. Sally wasn’t involved in this, and Sarah didn’t want to have to scare her half to death. It’d be much better for the both of them if Jensen just disappeared and was never heard from again and Sally never found out what happened to him. That way, maybe she’d think he’d just got tired of married life and run off to live alone somewhere.
Just as she’d about resigned herself to going into the house, she heard Sally say, “I’m going to bed, dear. Are you coming?”
Sarah’s heart began to beat faster when she heard Smoke reply, “Not just yet, sweetheart. I think I’ll have a cigar out on the porch and another cup of coffee first.”
Sarah peeked in the window and saw Sally give Smoke a quick kiss. “Good night then. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Smoke laughed. “Unless I wake you up when I come to bed,” he joked.
“Don’t you dare,” Sally said with a mock frown. And then she smiled coyly and added, “Unless you plan to make it worth my while.”
“Don’t I always?” Smoke called as he laughed and moved out onto the front porch with a coffee cup in his hand.
Sarah waited until Smoke had finished half his cigar and most of his coffee, giving Sally time to get to sleep, before she moved around and walked up to the porch.
When Smoke noticed her, he got to his feet, a slight frown on his face. “Why, hello, Sarah,” he said, concern in his voice. “Is anything wrong?”