Ambush of the Mountain Man

SIXTEEN

Sally woke up just as the sun was coming up and brightening the bedroom. She yawned and, as she did every morning, stuck out her right hand and felt around the bed for her husband. When she didn’t feel Smoke next to her, she opened her eyes and rolled on her side. His side of the bed was smooth, and his pillow was unwrinkled.

She sat up straight, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Evidently, he hadn’t come to bed last night, because she’d never known him to get up early and make his side of the bed while she was still sleeping.

Something was wrong.

She jumped out of bed and got dressed. As she was heading for the door, she noticed that Smoke’s hat and guns were hanging on the peg next to the front door. He would never have gone anywhere without them.

She crossed the porch and ran to the bunkhouse. She pounded on the door until Cal opened it, yawning widely. It was just about time for the cowboys to rise, but it was evident he hadn’t had his morning coffee just yet.

“Oh, hi, Miss Sally,” he said, his voice still husky from sleep.

“Cal, have any of you seen Smoke this morning?”

“Uh, why, no, Miss Sally. We just got up an’ ain’t seen nobody yet.”

“Damn!” she said, thinking furiously. “Did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary last night?”

Cal shook his head, his expression changing to one of alarm at her questions.

Without saying anything else, she turned back toward the barn and took off at a dead run. She wanted to go and see if Smoke’s horse was still there, though she knew he’d never have gotten on his horse and left without saying something to her, or at least grabbing his hat and guns from the cabin.

Cal glanced over his shoulder and called out, “Pearlie, somethin’s wrong. Get on out here.” Then he took off at a run after Sally, tucking in his shirt on the go.

Twenty minutes later, the three of them sat at the kitchen table in the ranch house. Sally had put some coffee on to boil while she told them about Smoke’s mysterious absence.

“And he didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout goin’ nowheres when you went to bed last night?” Pearlie asked as she handed him a steaming cup.

She shrugged and shook her head. “No. He went out on the porch to have a cigar and a cup of coffee before he came to bed, and he said he’d see me in a while.”

“It ain’t like Smoke to just take off without tellin’ nobody,” Cal said, getting up from his chair. “Especially if there was trouble brewin’.”

He moved out onto the front porch and began to look around, even getting down on his knees to get a better look at the ground around the porch.

“Look here,” he said to Sally and Pearlie, who were standing behind him. He pointed to a half-smoked cigar lying on the ground next to the porch, and a cup that still held a third of a cup of cold coffee in it on the arm of a wooden chair.

“Looks like somethin’ spooked him, or at least made him throw down his cigar and leave his coffee ‘fore he was through with either one,” Cal said.

“You see any tracks, Cal?” Pearlie asked, moving over to lean over his shoulder. Cal was smart and quick, but Pearlie was the more experienced tracker by far.

“Yeah. Most of ‘em head over toward the bunkhouse,” Cal replied, “but it looks like two sets go off down the road that’a way. And see, one set looks smaller, like it might’a been a woman, or maybe a boy.”

Pearlie bent down and gently fingered the tracks. “You’re right, Cal, and these are from last night too.”

“How can you tell that?” Cal asked.

“Here, see how the other tracks are crusted over where they’ve been wet by dew that’s dried a few times?”

When Cal nodded, Pearlie added, “Well, these here fresh tracks are still soft and damp, so they’ve only had the dew fall on them once and they haven’t dried yet, so they must’ve been made last night.”

“Pearlie,” Sally said, reaching inside the door and pulling a gun from Smoke’s holster, “follow the tracks and show us where they lead.”

Pearlie followed the tracks, walking bent over like an old man as the tracks led him down the road away from the Jensens’ cabin. Finally, he stopped and pointed. “Look there, Miss Sally. Tracks of a buckboard right here where these two sets stop.”

“Shoot!” Sally said. “That’s not much help. Everyone in the valley has a buckboard.”

“Yeah,” Cal added. “An’ followin’ those buckboard tracks once they get on the main road will be impossible.”

Pearlie, who was still staring at the tracks, shook his head. “Maybe, but these tracks show the iron on the wheels to be brand-new. Lookit how sharp the edges of the tracks are. They ain’t worn at all.” He looked up at Sally and Cal, who weren’t following him. “Don’t you see?” he asked. “All we have to do it ask Jed the blacksmith who’s had their wheels re-ironed lately and we’ll know who was here.”

Sally grabbed Pearlie and hugged him, causing him to blush furiously. “Pearlie, you’re a genius,” she said, and she turned and ran back toward the cabin.

By the time they got to Big Rock, it was almost nine o’clock in the morning, and they rode directly to Jed Blankenship’s blacksmith shop.

“Oh, no,” Sally said when she dismounted and walked up to the door. There was a sign on it that was too small for the boys to read from their horses.

“What’s it say, Miss Sally?” Cal asked.

“Jed’s not here. He’s gone to Silver City to help his brother who broke his leg. He won’t be back for at least a week.”

“You want me to hightail it over to Silver City and see what he has to say?” Pearlie asked.

Sally thought about it for a moment. “No, it’ll probably be quicker just to divide up the ranches around town and all of us ride around asking whose buckboard it might be.”

“Maybe it’s something simple, like one of your neighbors came by last night askin’ Smoke for help,” Cal observed.

Sally shook her head. “No. If that were the case, Smoke would still have had time to either wake me up or to get his hat and guns from the rack next to the door. You know he never leaves the house without them.”

Both Cal and Pearlie nodded. “That’s right, Miss Sally. An’ if’n one of the neighbors needed Smoke’s help, he would’ve asked either you or Cal or me to come along,” Pearlie said.

“Yes, so I suspect Smoke is in some kind of trouble, and it’s up to us to figure out who took him and then to make sure we get him back.”

“You know, it might be kind’a dangerous for you to go ridin’ up to the ranches askin’ ‘bout where Smoke is,” Pearlie advised. “If’n they took him an’ you show up, you’re liable to get shot.”

Sally smiled grimly and patted the snub-nosed .36-caliber Smith and Wesson revolver on her hip. “It won’t be dangerous for me, boys. It’ll be dangerous for whoever took Smoke.”

“Speakin’ of that,” Cal said, “why don’t we ask Monte and Louis to help us look for him? That’d sure cut down the time it’s gonna take to find that buckboard.”

“Hell, they might even know whose it is,” Pearlie added.

“Good idea, Cal. Let’s ride on over to Longmont’s and see who’s in there.”

Sally sent Pearlie to the sheriff’s office while she and Cal walked directly to Longmont’s Saloon. As much a café as a drinking and gambling establishment, the place was half-full of patrons eating one of Chef Andre’s magnificent breakfasts.

Louis was, as usual, sitting at his private table drinking strong coffee and smoking a thin, black cheroot. When he saw Sally and Cal, he immediately put the cigar out and got to his feet, motioning them over to his table.

He gave a very slight bow. “Good morning, Sally, Cal.”

He pulled a chair out and as Sally took a seat, he asked, “Will Smoke be joining us this morning?”

She shook her head, and he noticed her eyes were wet with unshed tears. “No, Louis, but Pearlie will be here shortly with Sheriff Carson.”

Louis sat down, glancing at Cal for some clue as to what was going on.

“Smoke seems to have disappeared sometime last night, Louis,” Cal said.

Louis held up four fingers to the young black waiter without taking his eyes off Sally. “Do you have any idea what happened?” he asked while the waiter put four coffee mugs on the table and began to pour them all coffee.

She shook her head. “No. Everything was normal when I went to bed last night. Smoke said he was going to have a cigar and a cup of coffee on the porch and he would be right in.” She took a moment to wipe daintily at her eyes with a handkerchief, and then she continued. “I fell asleep, and woke up this morning and he was nowhere to be found.”

Just then Monte Carson, sheriff of Big Rock, joined them along with Pearlie.

“Pearlie’s told me the gist of things, Sally,” he said. “Are you sure Smoke didn’t leave of his own accord, maybe ‘cause this woman or boy came by needin’ help?”

She shook her head. “No, Monte. His guns and his hat were still on the peg next to the door.”

Monte glanced at Louis. They both knew Smoke would no more leave his house without his hat and guns than he would walk down Main Street naked. There were just too many men roaming around the country who’d like nothing better than to catch Smoke Jensen unarmed and defenseless.

Monte nodded. “You’re right, Sally. I’m sure foul play’s involved here.”

“Sheriff, we found some tracks of a buckboard with new iron rims on the wheels. The tracks make it look like Smoke went off in the buckboard,” Pearlie said.

“New rims, huh?” Monte said, stroking his jaw before picking up his mug and drinking some coffee. “Guess I’d better go on over to Jed’s and see who’s had new rims put on lately.”

“Won’t do, Monte,” Cal said. “We’ve been there. Jed’s out of town for a few days on over to Silver City.”

“He at his brother’s place?” Monte asked.

When Sally and the boys nodded, Monte got to his feet. “I’ll go by the telegraph office and send a wire to the sheriff there askin’ him to take a ride out to Jed’s brother’s place and see if he can find out what we need to know.”

Louis nodded. “Meanwhile, we can split up and ride out to some of the nearby ranches and take a look at their wagons.”

Monte scratched his jaw again. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Louis,” he said in his slow drawl. “If’n Smoke was took against his will, whoever took him ain’t gonna welcome any questions with open arms.”

Louis frowned. “You’re right, Monte. We’d need to go in posse strength at least since we don’t know how many men we’re dealing with here.”

Monte took his ever-present pipe out of his shirt pocket and began filling it with sweet-smelling tobacco from a leather pouch. “Why don’t you all just sit here and have some breakfast? It shouldn’t take more’n a couple of hours to get an answer from the sheriff over at Silver City. Then we can all go together to find out just what’s goin’ on.”

Sally looked up at him. “I don’t know if I can just sit here without doing something, Monte, not while Smoke is in danger.”

Monte patted her shoulder as clouds of blue smoke whirled from his pipe. “I know it’s tough, Sally, but you won’t be doing him any good if you go out and get caught by the same people.”

“You’re correct, Monte. I’m being foolish.”

“No, you’re not,” Louis said, waving his hand at the waiter to come and take their orders. “You’re just being a wife who’s worried about her man. Nothing wrong with that.”

“You know, Sheriff,” Pearlie said, scratching his head. “I just don’t hardly think it’s anybody from around here took Smoke. Hell, ever’body that lives within fifty miles of Big Rock is good friends with Smoke and Sally.”

Monte nodded. “You’re probably right, Pearlie. But there ain’t been no suspicious strangers hanging around town for the past couple of weeks, and we got to start looking somewhere.”

Sally nodded. “You’re right, Monte. Why don’t you go on over to the telegraph office while we have some breakfast?”