Rampage of the Mountain Man

Chapter Three

Smoke had been home for two weeks when he was awakened one morning by the aroma of breakfast cooking. When he got dressed and went into the kitchen, he saw that Sally was preparing a veritable feast: eggs, bacon, biscuits, gravy, and fresh-baked bear claws. Pearlie and Cal were already in the dining room, drinking coffee and looking on hungrily.

“You boys are up early,” Smoke said, speaking to his two longtime and most loyal hands.

“How could I sleep with Pealie’s stomach growlin’ so?” Cal asked.

“Oh? Was your stomach growling, Pearlie?” Smoke teased.

“How could it not be?” Pearlie replied. “There I was, sleepin’ out there in the bunkhouse all peaceful like, when all of a sudden I started smellin’ the most wonderful smells. You doggone right my stomach started growlin’.”

“So, me’n Pearlie come in here and seen Miz Sally just cookin’ away,” Cal said.

“So, Miz Sally, ain’t it about ready?” Pearlie asked. “All them smells got me so hungry I can’t hardly stand it.”

Sally sighed. “Pearlie, I swear, your grammar is so atrocious that it makes me cringe.”

“Well, yes’m, I mean bein’ as you was a schoolmarm ’n all a’fore you and Smoke married up, well, I reckon it’d be only natural that you wouldn’t think I talk all that good,” Pearlie said.

Sally put her hands over her ears. “Ahhh!” she said. “Smoke, shoot him! Shoot him right now before he says another word!”

“No, ma’am!” Pearlie said. “Leastwise, not till I’ve et some of this here breakfast.”

Sally laughed, and shook her head. “You are incorrigible,” she said.

“Yes’m, I reckon I am,” Pearlie said. “I’m hungry too.”

“Go sit at the table, all of you. I’ll bring it to you.”

After the huge breakfast, when Smoke finished his coffee, Sally jumped up from the table and refilled his cup.

“You’re being awfully nice, Sally,” Smoke said.

“Can’t I be nice to my husband if I feel like it?” Sally replied with a sweet smile.

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Smoke said, returning the smile.

“I swear, Miz Sally, if this ain’t about the best breakfast I done ever et anywhere,” Pearlie said.

“Ha!” Cal said. “It’s come to my mind, Pearlie, that anything you eat is the best thing you ever ate.”

“Well, yeah, I do like to eat, there ain’t no denyin’ that. But this here breakfast is particular good.”

Cal nodded. “I’ll have to agree with you on that. Why the big feed, Miz Sally?”

“No particular reason,” Sally answered.

Smoke stared at his wife over the rim of his coffee cup. Seeing his intense stare, Sally looked away.

“Another bear claw, darling?” she asked.

“What is it, Sally?” Smoke asked. “What is going on?”

“What makes you think something is going on?”

“Because I know you, Sally. We’re married, remember?”

“All right, I’ll tell you,” Sally replied.

Sally poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat back down before she went on.

“Do you remember the big winter freeze we had a couple of years ago? We lost over eighty percent of our herd. Do you remember that?”

“Of course I remember that,” Smoke said. “We not only lost our herd, we almost lost Sugarloaf.”

Sally reached back to the sideboard and got a small book, which she slid across the table to Smoke.

“What is that?” Smoke asked.

“It’s the Farmer’s Almanac,” Sally said. “According to the Almanac, this winter is going to be as bad as that one was.”

“Oh, that’s bad,” Pearlie said. “That’s really bad.”

“And that’s why the big breakfast?” Smoke asked. “We are celebrating the fact that we are going to have another bad winter?”

Sally shook her head. “No, we are celebrating the fact that a bad winter isn’t going to be as big a problem for us this year.”

Smoke drummed his fingers on the table. “What makes you think it won’t be a problem?”

“After that last big freeze, you built shelter areas, remember?”

“Of course I remember. But we can only shelter about half of our herd.”

“That’s all we’ll need to shelter,” Sally said.

“Sally, it won’t put Sugarloaf in danger like the last freeze-up, but do you have any idea how much money it would cost us to lose three thousand head.”

“Just over one hundred thousand dollars,” Sally said easily.

“What?”

“It would cost us just over one hundred thousand dollars to lose three thousand head. But we won’t lose them if we sell them,” Sally said.

Smoke shook his head. “You might be right, but if everyone is in the same situation, we won’t be able to sell them.”

“I know where we can sell them,” Sally said.

“Where?”

“We can sell them to Mr. Colin Abernathy.”

Smoke shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know anyone named Colin Abernathy. He’s not a local rancher. Is he an absentee owner?”

“Mr. Abernathy is the Indian agent for all the Cheyenne in Wyoming Territory. He needs the beef to get the Indians through the winter.”

“Wait a minute. Did you say all the Cheyenne in Wyoming?”

“Yes, and to be honest, that is the fly in the ointment,” Sally said. “Mr. Abernathy will only pay for them when they are delivered to the procurement center. That means we’ll have to drive three thousand head to Sorento, where we will deliver them to Cephus Malone.”

“I thought you said Colin Abernathy. Who is Cephus Malone?”

“Malone works for Abernathy.”

“I see. And where is Sorento?”

“It’s in Wyoming Territory, near the town of Laramie.”

“Whoa, that’s almost five hundred miles. You are proposing that we drive three thousand head five hundred miles? Sally, darlin’, I know you mean well, but think about it. It would take us a month to get there, and you say that it is just a fly in the ointment. That’s a pretty big fly, don’t you think?”

“It is, I suppose,” Sally said. “But when you think about it, we will have a pretty big fly swat.” Sally smiled sweetly at her husband.

“What do you mean, we’ll have a pretty big fly swat?”

“Mr. Abernathy is paying thirty-five dollars a head at delivery.”

“Thirty-five dollars a head?” Smoke said in surprise. “Why, that’s….”

“That’s one hundred and five thousand dollars,” Sally said, finishing Smoke’s sentence.

Pearlie dropped his fork and stared across the table at Sally. Cal laughed out loud.

“Pearlie, that’s the first time I ever seen anything stop you eatin’ in mid-chew,” Cal said.

“Miz Sally, did you…” Pearlie began, then remembering that his mouth was full, finished chewing and swallowed before he returned to his question. “Did you just say one hunnert’n five thousand dollars?”

“I did say that,” Sally said. She smiled at Smoke. “That’s why I was able to answer your question as to how much it would cost us to lose three thousand head.”

“Lord, I’ve never seen that much money. I ain’t never even heard of that much money,” Cal said.

“You haven’t said anything, Smoke,” Sally said. She took a sip of coffee and stared at her husband over the rim of the cup. “What’s the matter? Has the cat got your tongue?”

“That’s a lot of money,” Smoke said. “And you are right, that is one big fly swat. Something like that would be worth going all the way to Sorento.”

“Smoke, do you really think we can drive that many cows all the way to Sorento?” Pearlie asked.

“Looks like we don’t have any choice,” Smoke said, smiling at Sally. “The boss has spoken.”

“Lord, just us?” Cal asked.

Smoke chuckled. “What’s the matter, Cal? Don’t you think we can do it?”

“I—I reckon so, if you say we can,” Cal said, though it was obvious he was unconvinced.

Smoke laughed again. “Don’t worry, we’ll get some men to help us: drovers, a blacksmith, a cook.”

“You won’t need a cook,” Sally said.

“No cook? Miz Sally, you don’t aim for us to make a drive like that on nothin’ but beef jerky, do you?” Pearlie asked.

“No, I expect you to make the drive on bacon and beans, biscuits and cornbread, ham and fried potatoes, some roast beef, steak from time to time, apple pie, and…maybe a few bear claws.”

“Lord a’mercy, you’re goin’ with us?”

“No,” Smoke said.

“Yes,” Sally said at the same time.

“Sally, this isn’t some picnic in the country,” Smoke said. “I’m not going to let you go.”

Sally stared at Smoke with here eyes flashing. “Smoke Jensen. Did you just say what I thought you said? Did you say you aren’t going to let me go?”

“I, uh…” Smoke began, but he stammered to a stop in mid-sentence.

“Cal, if you would be so kind as to hitch up the team, I’ll take a wagon into town and pick up all the possibles we’re going to need for the drive,” Sally said.

Cal looked at Smoke.

Smoke smiled, and shook his head. “Well, do what the lady says,” he said. “Maybe a few bear claws would taste good out on the trail.”

“Yes, sir!” Cal said with pleasure.

“I’ll help you with the team,” Pearlie said, following Cal outside.

“I thought you might see it my way,” Sally said after the two young men were gone.

“I haven’t seen it your way,” Smoke said.

“Oh? Kirby Jensen, are you telling me you are going to stop me from going?”

Sally used Smoke’s real name, a sign that she meant business.

“No, hold on now,” Smoke said, raising his hands in defense. “I said I haven’t seen it your way. I didn’t say you weren’t going.”

Sally smiled. “I didn’t think you would actually try to stop me.”

“I won’t do that,” Smoke said. “But if there comes a gully-gusher and you’re trying to drive the chuck wagon hub-deep through water and mud, I don’t want to hear the slightest complaint from you.”

Sally leaned into Smoke and looked flirtatiously into his eyes.

“Why, Smoke, darling,” she said. “Do I ever complain?”