“I didn’t figure it was.” Smoke moved to the table and sat down.
Blackjack munched on a doughnut and sipped his coffee. “That editor feller is gone to Utah. Won’t be back for a month or more. And that youngster he hired to cover the news has recently got himself a bad case of jitters. Didn’t take much; just a little talkin’ to, is all. He won’t be comin’ around here no more.”
“We expected that.”
Blackjack’s eyes held a visible light of amusement as he looked around at the boys and the old men. “Damnedest outfit I ever did see. Pardon my language, ladies. These boys doin’ a man’s work. Drove that herd all the way to the railhead without a bobble. You boys is all right in my book. I brung a message from the Bar V,” he said abruptly.
Smoke took a bite from a doughnut and waited.
“Jud Vale has done declared war on anybody ridin’ for the Box T. Man, woman, or child. Thai don’t set too well for a few of us. Me and Jackson, most especially. I don’t believe in mistreatin’ women or hurtin’ no kid or dog. So, I ain’t a-gonna do it. Neither is Jackson.”
He finished his bear sign and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He drained his coffee cup and thanked Susie as she refilled it.
“But that’s just two out of about forty-five. . . with more comin’ in shortly. The odds is too high. Smoke. You can’t win this one.”
“These folks have no place else to go, Blackjack. So we have to win it.”
“Figured you’d say that. You bein’ who you is and all that.”
Blackjack sipped his coffee. “Now I ain’t got nothin’ personal ag’in you, Smoke. But that ten thousand dollars that Jud’s done hung on your scalp is jusi too good for me to walk away from. That money would get me a right nice spread down in Texas and I can hang these guns up.”
“You ain’t never gonna hang them guns up, Blackjack,” Cheyenne told him. “You been around too long. You’re one of the old breed. There’s always gonna be some punk kid who wants to make hisself a rep.”
“Not me, Cheyenne. I’m a-gonna change my name and bury myself down near the Barrillas. Me and Lassiter. We done talked it over. So me and Lassiter will be waitin’ for you over at Preston, Smoke. That’s the way it’s got to be, and you know it.”
Smoke nodded.
Blackjack cut his eyes to Matthew. “Git shut of that gun, boy. It ain’t nothing but grief. You already got the stamp on you, but it ain’t too late to shake it off. As young as you is, you kill another man, you’re gonna be marked.”
“I plan on becoming a lawman,” Matt told him.
“Huh! That’s even worse. Puttin’ up with drunks and whoors and tin-horns and gamblers. It ain’t no life.” He smiled sadly. “O’ course, my life ain’t been all that great, neither.” He stood up and smiled at the women. “Much obliged for the coffee and bear sign, ladies.” Turning, he looked at Smoke. “Lassiter’s just over the ridge. We’re headin’ for Preston. I ’spect we’ll see you there, Smoke.”
Blackjack Morgan walked to his horse and swung into the saddle. He rode off without looking back.
“Now that is interesting!” Walt said.
“Not really.” Smoke began rolling a cigarette. “They’re setting me up, that’s all.”
“You can bet on that!” Cheyenne agreed. “Blackjack and Lassiter will prob’ly have four or five men with them. Their plan is being the only ones standin’ after the battle.”
“That’s the way I read it at first. Now I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean, son?” Walt asked.
“Jud wants me away from the ranch, probably figuring I’ll take someone with me.”
“And he’ll hit the ranch when you’re gone,” Alice stated, a sick expression on her face.
“That’s the way I see it.”
“And if you don’t go into Preston, Blackjack and them others will spread the word that Smoke Jensen has turned yeller,” Cheyenne added that.
Smoke shrugged that off. “That kind of talk never bothered me, Cheyenne.”
“Son, you can’t face seven or eight men alone,” Walt told him.
Smoke smiled. “I faced eighteen alone one time. I did take some lead. But I put them all down. Don’t worry, Walt. I have no intention of riding into a setup. If I just stay put, that will probably make Blackjack and the others so mad they’ll do something rash.”
“Like what?” Rusty asked.
“Oh . .. like moving their ambush a lot closer than Preston. Like over to the trading post.”
“And you’d ride over there to face them?” Susie asked. “One man against seven or eight gunslingers?”
“I’d give it some serious thought,” Smoke told her, pouring another cup of coffee.
“That man said that more gunfighters would becoming in shortly,” Doreen said.
“I’m fresh out of ideas, Doreen. W hat do you wan t me to do, girl?”
“You could put the ranch up for sale. Advertise it in the paper, in papers all over the state. That would draw a lot of attention to our situation and maybe make Jud Vale back off.”
“She’s got a point, Walt,” Smoke told him.
But the old rancher shook his head. “I been out here goin’ on fifty years. Me and Alice fought Indians and outlaws, blizzards and droughts. We come close to packin’ it in several times. This ain’t one of them times. If you all was to leave—and I wouldn’t blame you none if you was to pull out—I’m stayin’.”
His wife moved to his side. “We’re staying, Walt.”
He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
The younger of the boys looked at each other, all thinking they had best head back to the creek as quickly as possible and gather up some more stones for their slingshots.
Matthew hitched up his gun belt.
“This here is a right good job of work,” Dolittle said. “So me and Harrison is stayin’ put. If I’m gonna die, I’d druther it be with food in my belly and some coins to jingle in my jeans.”
“I’m stayin’,” Cheyenne said.
“So are we!” the boys shouted as a unit.
Rusty shrugged his shoulders. “Count me in, too.”
“That’s settled,” Smoke said. “Let’s get back to work.”
15
The sheriff rode out to the ranch two days after Blackjack Morgan had tossed down the challenge. He had three tough-looking deputies with him.
He told Walt to get his crew together. His adult crew.
Only Smoke, Cheyenne, and the women were close to the house. They sat at the long table in the front yard and talked.
“Lines bein’ what they are,” the sheriff said, “I ain’t rightly sure this place is even in my jurisdiction. But I know damn well that Preston is. Excuse my language, ladies. And I ain’t a-gonna have no gunfights in my town.” He looked at Smoke. “I thank you for not ridin’ in.”
“I’m waiting for them to move it closer to the ranch.”
The sheriff nodded his head. He waved his hand at the three deputies. “This is it, folks. You’re lookin’ at the law enforcement in this county . . . providing, that is, the Box T is even in my county. New lines was drawn up last year and it’s still all confused. But that ain’t the point. The point is that Jud Vale’s done hired himself about sixty men, all drawin’ fightin’ wages, and there ain’t a damn thing I can do about it. Oh, I could ride over to the Bar V and try to throw my badge around. But you all know how much good that would do. Jud’s a charmer. He’d just tell me he was gettin’ ready for roundup and hired all them men to punch cows."
He sighed. “Walt, there may still be warrants out on Jud back East. I know the story. And I’ve sent telegrams to them folks back yonder. The parents of the girl that Jud was supposed to have killed is dead. The lawmen who were in charge when it happened are gone. So that’s a dead end. No help there.”