Venom shook his head. “You’re not paying attention. This isn’t just about you. It’s about nice. Nice people make me sick to my stomach because the world isn’t nice. It’s hard and cruel and doesn’t give a damn whether people live or die. As for the Almighty, if there is one, he can’t be all that nice if he lets you and me do the things we do.”
“You’re no churchgoer, that’s for sure.”
“Now, now. Don’t get personal. How many times must I tell you? This is about nice. You sit there and you say that you’re asking me nice. Well, you can take your nice and shove it up your ass. That’s where it belongs.”
“So your answer is still no?”
“You catch on quick.” Venom figured that was the end of it, but Logan had more to say.
“What if I pay you and just you? All the money I make this time?”
“That wouldn’t be fair to the others. Some of them are bound to want to have her.”
Logan brightened. “What if I pay you to let me have her after they’re done with her?”
Before Venom could respond, Potter called out from down the line.
“Look to the north!”
Everyone did. Coils of gray smoke were writhing skyward about a mile off. Not just one coil but three.
Venom drew rein. “Redskins wouldn’t be so stupid as to give themselves away like that.”
“It must be white men,” Logan agreed.
“Let’s go have a look-see. It could be cavalry. The army hardly ever gets out this far, but if it’s a patrol it’s best we find out which way they’re heading so we don’t run into them later.” Venom rose in the stirrups and swept his arm to the north then reined toward the smoke.
Logan stayed at his side. “You haven’t answered me about the white girl. Can I have her after the rest have a turn? I’ll pay you for the privilege.”
“I want a million dollars.”
“Be serious.”
“You just don’t know when to quit,” Venom said coldly. “My answer now is the same as it was when you first asked. Now get back in line, and send the Kyler twins up here.” When there was potential trouble or killing to be done, Venom relied on the Kylers. The pair had a natural knack for death dealing, just like some folks had a knack for arithmetic or for painting or music. Presently they joined him, each holding his rifle across his saddle with his thumb on the hammer and finger on the trigger. They were always primed, these two.
“What’s it to be then, boss?” asked the one on his right.
For the life of him, Venom couldn’t tell them apart. One was called Seph and the other was Jeph, but they were so alike it was impossible to say who was who. “I don’t know yet. If it’s the army, we play at being sociable. We’ll tell them we’re buffalo hunters.”
“Reckon they’ll believe it?” asked the twin on the left.
“They might know about those Pawnees we killed,” said the other.
“It’s not a crime to kill Injuns. But send word back down the line for everyone to keep their scalps in their saddlebags.”
“I’ll do it,” said the twin on the right, and reined around.
“What was Logan talkin’ to you about?” inquired the Kyler who was still there.
Venom glanced at him sharply. The twins tended to keep to themselves and rarely poked their noses into what anyone else did. “What do you care?”
“Seph and me think he was askin’ you about the white girl, and we don’t like it much.”
About to answer, Venom noticed that Jeph’s ear had a small nick out of it. Apparently he’d been cut once. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?”
“I finally found a way to tell you two peas apart.” Venom chuckled, then sobered. “Now what’s this about the white girl?”
“Seph and me don’t cotton to the notion of white girls bein’ hurt. Redskins, greasers, darkies, it don’t matter with them. White girls it does.”
“How come you never said anything before? Don’t tell me Seph and you grew scruples all of a sudden.”
“Rubicon was sayin’ as how this one is real pretty.”
“Oh. So it’s all right for Logan to carve up the ugly ones but not the good-looking ones.”
“White is white. We held our tongues before because you let him and you’re the boss. But it festered some, and we have to speak our piece.”
“I’m glad you came to me and didn’t confront him.” Venom could see Logan getting riled and the Kylers making worm food of him. Logan was tough, but when it came to being deadly the twins had him beat all hollow.
The smoke from the campfires continued to writhe into the sky. Venom took out his spyglass. He counted ten wagons drawn up in a circle near a tract of trees. They were prairie schooners, red and blue with canvas tops. Men with rifles were herding oxen toward the trees, possibly to let them drink at a spring. “Unless I miss my guess it’s a bull train.”
“Freighters?” Jeph said. “They must be on their way to Santa Fe.”
“Could be.”
Through the spyglass Venom saw a man posted outside the wagons cup a hand to his mouth and point in their direction. Others came out of the circle, each bristling with weapons. “Remember to smile and be nice.” He grinned at his use of the word.
A thick man with powerful shoulders came to the front and planted his stout legs. He put his hands on a pair of pistols wedged under a brown belt and regarded them with the eyes of a wolf. His chin was covered with stubble and he had a short-brimmed hat pushed back on a brown thatch of hair. “What do you want?” he demanded as Venom drew rein.
“We saw your smoke and thought maybe you might have coffee on.”
“Indeed we do, but we’re not inclined to share. If it’s a warm welcome you’re looking for, find yourself a pilgrim train.”
Venom saw why the freighters had stopped; one of the wagons had a busted wheel. A pair of brawny freight men had used a jack to raise the bed and were busy replacing broken spokes. “You’re not very neighborly, friend.”
“No, I’m not. Nor am I your friend.” The man nodded at the circle. “This is my train. I’m the captain, Jeremiah Blunt. You will notice there are twenty-two of us and only eight of you. If any of you so much as lifts a gun, you will all die in your saddles.”
“Damn, you’re a mean cuss,” Venom said with genuine respect.
“I’ve never lost a wagon,” Jeremiah Blunt declared. “Never lost a man, either. I don’t intend to start now.”
“All we wanted was to share your fire and some coffee.”
“I don’t make a habit of repeating myself, but your ears must be plugged with wax. Our coffee is ours. Our fires are ours. You have come as close as you are going to and now you will leave.”
“I can see you treating redskins this way, but we’re white.”
“You say that as if skin matters. It doesn’t.”
Venom’s admiration was changing to anger. “I don’t like being treated as if I’m no account.”
“Do I look as if I care what you like?”
“We’re buffalo hunters.” Venom tried a new tack. “We thought you might have seen—” He got no further.
Blunt cut him off. “When trees grow fur.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re no more hide hunters than I am.” Blunt sniffed a few times. “You don’t have the stink.”
“You can tell what a man does by how he smells?” Venom sarcastically asked.
“Some, yes. A miner smells of the dust and the earth. A cowhand smells of horses and cows. Buffalo hunters smell of blood and gore. Your stink is different. You stink of death.”
It was such a remarkable statement that Venom was left speechless for one of the few times in his entire life.
“I don’t know what you men are and I don’t care. All I care about is my train. Be on your way and don’t come anywhere near us, or the next time we’ll shoot you on sight.”