It would have been nice to have some allies, Preacher thought, instead of just him and a couple of women and an old man declaring open war against the most powerful criminal in St. Louis, maybe the most powerful one west of the Mississippi. But at least things were out in the open now, and Preacher couldn’t help but be a little relieved by that. He didn’t know how Beaumont would react to what had happened, but it seemed likely that he would gather up a small army of hired killers and come after his sworn enemy.
That would be all right with him, Preacher mused as a bleak smile tugged at his mouth. “Head west out of town,” he told Jessie. “I’ll show you where to go.”
If Beaumont came after him, that would save him the trouble of going after Beaumont. Preacher didn’t care about the odds.
He just wanted to have Beaumont in his sights one more time.
Chapter 26
The sun sank toward the western horizon as the buggy rolled westward. After a few moments of silence, Casey said, “Do either of you want to tell me what’s going on here?”
“I reckon you deserve an explanation,” Preacher said. “Me and Beaumont are old enemies, even though we didn’t ever actually meet until about a week and a half ago. He’s been sendin’ folks to the Rockies for the past year or so, tryin’ to take over the fur trade out there, and I been stoppin’ those plans.”
“So you’re a mountain man?”
“Yeah.” Preacher smiled. “I just shaved off my beard and dressed in reg’lar clothes instead of buckskins to make Beaumont think I was somebody else. I told him my name was Jim Donnelly, and he believed me.”
“Then there really isn’t a Jim Donnelly?”
“Well, I reckon there must be at least one fella named that somewhere,” Preacher said, “but I ain’t him.”
“If you hate Beaumont, why did you go to work for him?” Casey’s eyes lit up as she thought about the question she had just asked. “Oh, I know! You were trying to get inside his organization so you could destroy it and get back at him for all the bad things he’s done.”
Preacher nodded. “That’s about the size of it. Problem is, it never did work out quite like I figured it would. I reckon I just ain’t cut out for playactin’.”
Jessie said, “It would have worked if we’d had more time. We just didn’t count on that bastard Garland Buckhalter showing up and recognizing you.”
“That was his first name? Garland?” Preacher shook his head. “I don’t reckon I ever heard it until now. Never expected to see the varmint again, either. I figured the Pawnee got him.”
“He came into the house about an hour ago,” Jessie explained as she snapped the reins and kept the horse moving briskly. “Brutus heard him talking to some of the girls. He said he’d been out on the plains for the past couple of weeks, on foot, dodging Indians. He was finally able to steal a horse yesterday, and that meant he was able to get the rest of the way to St. Louis a lot faster.”
“Probably killed the fella he stole that horse from, too,” Preacher said.
Jessie nodded. “More than likely. He also did a lot of talking about you, Preacher, mostly about how you had ruined all his plans and caused him to fail Beaumont . . . and how he was going to kill you if he ever saw you again. Brutus overheard that and warned me, and I told him that if you came in, he should keep you away from the parlor until Buckhalter was safely upstairs with one of the girls.”
“He did his best,” Preacher said. “He just didn’t have any luck.”
“Not this time,” Jessie said, a catch in her voice. “Brutus’s luck ran out . . . and so did ours.”
Preacher grunted. “We’re still alive, ain’t we? I’d say we still got some luck on our side.”
“We’re alive, but Brutus isn’t. He was a good man. He helped me a lot over the past couple of years, since Shad put me in charge of the house.”
“Before that—”
“Before that, I was just one of the whores who worked there,” Jessie said. “Is that what you wanted to know, Preacher?”
He grunted. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
“I know. You don’t strike me as the judgmental sort.”
Preacher didn’t say anything for a moment, then went on, “Anyway, I’m obliged to you for shootin’ Buckhalter. Reckon you probably saved my life.”
“For a second, I thought about letting him kill you,” Jessie said bluntly. “If he had, that wouldn’t have exposed what Cleve and I have been doing. We could have continued without your help.”
“Why didn’t you?”
For a long moment, Jessie didn’t answer. Then she said, “I don’t know. Instinct, maybe. I saw Beaumont and Buckhalter about to shoot you, and I didn’t even really think about what I was doing. I just lifted my gun and . . . pulled the trigger.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.”
“So am I,” Casey said. “I would have hated it if anything happened to Preacher. I’m glad you shot that man Buckhalter, Jessie.”
A little laugh came from Jessie. “I was aiming at Shad. I’m afraid I’m not a very good shot with a pistol.”
Preacher looked over at her, and then he laughed, too. Luck had been with him, all right, even more than he’d known.
By now dusk was settling down over the landscape west of St. Louis. Preacher directed Jessie toward the grove of trees where Uncle Dan was camped, while he kept an eye on their back trail for any signs of pursuit.
It was almost completely dark by the time they reached the place. When they had approached within earshot, Preacher motioned for Jessie to rein in, then lifted his voice and called, “Uncle Dan! It’s me, Preacher! You in there?”
“Come ahead, boy!” the old-timer replied. “I heard the buggy comin’, but didn’t know who ’twas!”
Uncle Dan stepped out of the trees as Jessie drove up to the grove. Dog followed him, a ghostly gray shape in the shadows. Uncle Dan had his rifle in his hands, ready to use it if he needed to.
Preacher hopped down from the buggy as Jessie brought it to a halt. He slapped Uncle Dan on the back and gave him a rough hug.
“The plan’s blowed all to hell,” Preacher said.
“I figured as much when I seen you had somebody with you.” Uncle Dan lifted his hat to Jessie and Casey. “Ladies. Your comp’ny is right welcome.”
“We’re hardly ladies,” Jessie said as she looped the buggy’s reins around the brake lever.
“The way I figure it, any woman is a lady until she proves otherwise,” Uncle Dan said, “and that starts from when I meet her. Anything that happened afore that don’t matter one little bit.”
“Well, aren’t you the gentleman.” Jessie smiled at him.
“Somebody’s gotta be, since this ornery young feller is rough as a cob most o’ the time,” Uncle Dan commented with a jerk of his thumb toward Preacher.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Casey chimed in. Both women climbed out of the buggy. “I think Jim is very nice. I mean, Preacher is very nice. It’s going to take me some time to get used to the fact that you’re not really Jim Donnelly, Preacher.”
“That’s fine,” Preacher assured her. “I don’t much care what folks call me—”
“As long as it ain’t late for dinner,” Uncle Dan interrupted and finished for him. “Speakin’ of which, I’ll rustle up some vittles. I got bacon to fry and a mess o’ biscuits I cooked up earlier today. Reckon I must’ve had a feelin’ somebody was comin’. These ol’ bones o’ mine are pretty good about that, you know.”
“Don’t you want to hear about what happened in town?” Preacher asked.
“Any hostiles directly on your trail?”
“Not that I know of.”
“It can wait, then,” Uncle Dan declared. “If there’s trouble, folks tend to think straighter when they got a full belly and some coffee to drink.”