“Oh, thank God!” Mary breathed, looking skyward.
Sally Jensen looked over at the boys, her eyes brimming with tears of thankfulness, while both Cal and Pearlie grinned from ear to ear.
“Now, he’s going to have to remain quiet for a week or two, and I’m going to want you to feed him plenty of beef stew and soup with cream in it to get his strength back,” Cotton said, his manner becoming more professional.
“Don’t you worry, Doc Spalding,” Mary said, nodding her head as she spoke. “I’ll make sure that ornery galoot does exactly what you tell him to.”
“It isn’t going to be easy, Mary,” Cotton said. “He’s already chomping at the bit to get back to work. He asked me who was going to take care of his town if he lay around on his butt all day.”
They all laughed at that. It was just like Monte Carson to put the welfare of the townspeople ahead of his own well-being. It was one reason why he’d never had any serious opposition for reelection as sheriff since Smoke had recommended him for the job when the town was first formed.
After the doctor went into another room to see to another patient, Mary turned to Sally. “Thank you for staying here by my side until he woke up, Sally, but now it’s time for you to go see about your man.”
“Will you be all right?” Sally asked as she got to her feet, anxious to get back on the trail and go after the men who’d taken her Smoke.
“Of course I will, now that I know Monte is doing all right,” Mary said. “Now you and the boys go on and bring Smoke back here safe and sound.”
Sally leaned down and gave Mary a hug. “You tell Monte we’ll be thinking of him and to get well soon,” she said, and then she led the boys out the front door.
“You want us to go get Louis to ride with us, Miss Sally?” Pearlie asked.
She looked up at him. “Of course, Pearlie. Louis would never forgive us if we left him out of this fracas,” she answered.
An hour later, they’d picked up their horses at the livery and the four of them were on the trail toward Pueblo, hoping against hope that they were going to be in time to find Smoke alive.
“Hey, men, over here!” Wally Stevens yelled through his cupped hands.
As Cletus and Sarah and the other men rode slowly up to him, they found him standing over the snow-covered dead body of Charlie Blake. Blake was lying on his back with a gaping hole in his throat and frozen blood all around him. Luckily, they’d gotten to him before the scavengers did.
The storm was winding down, and there was even the hint of sunlight peeking through the clouds as the snow disappeared and the wind began to die down. They’d spent an uncomfortable night before the dawn came and they could resume the search for Charlie’s body.
Cletus felt a raw knot of anger in his gut. Damn Angus MacDougal and damn Smoke Jensen for this. A good man lay dead whose only fault was trying to help out a friend.
Sarah brushed away tears from her eyes. She didn’t want the men to see her crying or to guess the reason. If she hadn’t helped Smoke Jensen escape last night, Charlie Blake would still be alive.
Of course, she was intelligent enough to know that Jensen would by now be dead at the hands of her father, but that was only one life. She had a feeling that Jensen was going to cause a lot more deaths before this little trip was over. She wondered what her father would think about that and whether he would consider Johnny’s death was worth the deaths of so many other good men.
She grimaced. Of course he would. In Angus’s mind, there was no one who was nearly as important as a member of the MacDougal clan. No, she thought with disgust, he wouldn’t worry one bit if it cost ten men their lives as long as he got a chance to avenge Johnny’s death.
“Pick him up and put him across one of the packhorses,” Cletus said.
“And be quick about it!” Billy Free growled, pulling out his six-gun and checking the loads. “That bastard Jensen has to be made to pay for this!”
Sarah looked over at the young man, whose face was flushed and red in the morning light.
“He was only defending himself, Billy,” she said in an even tone, glancing from Billy’s face to the mountain slopes a couple of miles off in the distance where Jensen had disappeared.
“How can you take his side?” the boy almost screamed. “Charlie Blake was a friend of mine!”
“Charlie was my friend too, Billy,” Sarah answered. “And Johnny was my brother and I’ve got to tell all of you, I’m beginning to wonder if he was worth all this.”
The men began to look around at each other, wondering what the hell Sarah was talking about.
“I’m sure Sarah means that she hates to see anyone else get killed because of her taking Jensen prisoner, isn’t that right, Sarah?” Cletus said, trying to change her meaning to one the men could understand.
Sarah lowered her head and quickly blinked away the tears in her eyes. “Yes, of course that’s what I mean,” she said in a firm voice. “I have no sympathy for murderers and gunmen, but I also don’t want to put the rest of your lives at risk to avenge the death of one of my family members.”
“Don’t you worry none, Miss Sarah,” Bob Bartlett called. He and Juan Gomez and Billy Free had joined up with the group right after Smoke had ridden off into the storm. “We ain’t gonna let no gunslick get away with killin’ our friends and neighbors. We ain’t gonna stop until we’ve dragged him outta those mountains feet-first—right, boys?” he yelled, raising his rifle into the air.
The crowd all hollered their assent, and a couple even shot off their weapons into the air.
Lord help us, Cletus thought, looking around at the men as they yelled and hollered. We’ve gone from a posse to a lynch mob and all it took was one death. I wonder what we’ll become after several more of us are killed. Will we still be human, and will we ever be able to forget what’s about to happen here in the mountains in the next few days?
“Come on, Clete!” Jason Biggs yelled. “Let’s go get that bastard!”
Cletus held up his hands for silence, trying to quiet the mob the men had become. “Listen up, men,” he said, keeping his voice level and emotionless. “Take a look at Charlie’s body lyin’ across that packhorse,” he said, inclining his head toward the mount. “You’ll notice he ain’t wearin’ no guns, and if I’m not mistaken, he probably had a long gun or two in his saddle boots on his horse.”
“Yeah, so what?” Biggs asked sarcastically. “That just means that son of a bitch Jensen stole ‘em.”
“What it means,” Cletus tried to explain, “is if we go charging up into those mountains, Jensen is gonna pick us off like flies. He’s an experienced mountain man who knows what he’s doing, and now that we know he’s armed with a long gun and a couple of six-killers, we have to be smarter and more careful than we’ve ever been before or most of us ain’t gonna be coming home.”
“You sound like you’re plumb scared to death of that son of a bitch, Clete,” Sam Jackson said, disgust in his voice.
“Respecting the abilities of your enemies ain’t being scared, Sam,” Cletus answered, not rising to the bait in Jackson’s tone, “it’s being smart. You want to go hightailing it up into those woods, yelling and screaming and not paying caution no mind, you go right ahead. I’ll do my best to find your dead carcass and get it back to your wife so she and your kids can plant you proper.”
Cletus’s words sobered the men and quieted them down a bit so they weren’t so boisterous. “Now, I’m still the leader of this group, an’ anybody don’t think so is welcome to mosey on along by themselves, but whoever stays is gonna do what I say or I’ll put a bullet in their head myself. You all got my drift?” he asked.