War of the Mountain Man

26

Smoke rode easy, knowing there was no hurry. Red Malone was not about to run. But he wondered about Max. What would the big man do—that is, if he were still alive? Or had his renegades returned to Hell’s Creek after their failure in Barlow and killed him? And that was highly likely.

Smoke rode on, keeping Star in an easy canter, sometimes walking him. But the big horse loved to run and they ate up the distance. He was soon on Lightning range and, within minutes, facing three Lightning cowboys. One of them was wearing a bloody shirt, due to a bullet graze on his arm.

“The people of Barlow are signing warrants right now, boys. Best thing you can do is just ride and keep on riding. If you think Sal and his deputies won’t come out here to get you, you’re flat wrong.”

The cowboys looked at each other, then back at Smoke. One said, “You’ll let us ride?”

Smoke jerked a thumb. “Ride on.”

“I’ll tell you this much,” another said. “Red is alone. Except for that no-account daughter of his. But you won’t take him alive.”

“Thanks. But I’d hate to kill a man in front of his daughter.”

One of the cowboys laughed. “Smoke, that girl is as low and mean-spirited as her pa. She don’t give a popcorn poot for him. All she wants is the ranch. I believe she’d kill him herself if she got the chance.”

“Thanks. I hope I don’t see you boys again.”

They grinned. “You won’t!”

They rode out, taking trails that would skirt the town of Barlow.

When Smoke rode into the yard, Tessie was sitting on the porch. A shotgun lay on the porch floor. At the sight of him, she started bawling and squalling. As he drew closer, he could see that her dress was torn. She stopped crying long enough to expose more skin. Then she resumed her blubbering.

Smoke sat his saddle for a moment, staring at the young woman. “Where’s your father?” he asked when there was a break in the hollering.

“He’s dead!” she squalled. “In the house. He tried to attack me. He went crazy. I had to defend my honor!” She began a new round of wailing.

Smoke swung down from the saddle and walked up onto the porch. He really didn’t know what to expect; maybe a trap. He just didn’t know.

He opened the screen door and the smell of blood hit him hard. He walked through the house until he found Red, dead, sprawled in front of a safe in his study. The door was open, and greenbacks and small sacks of gold lay on the floor and in the safe.

Smoke grunted. Red Malone had been shot in the back at close range.

“Ohhh!” Tessie hollered from the front porch. “I’m shamed forever. My own father tried to as-sault me. Oh, the dishonor and disgrace of it all.” She started blubbering.

Smoke looked down at Red. “I hate to say it, Red, but even you probably deserved better kids than you had.”

He walked outside. Tessie honked her nose into a bandana and said, “What am I gonna do with this big ol’ranch? Why, I’m just a woman; I can’t handle men’s work.”

“I certainly don’t envy you, ma’am. Don’t you have anybody else left on the ranch?”

“Just the cook. She’s gone visitin’ friends for the day. I suppose I could get her to help me bury Pa. You think he’ll keep ’til late this afternoon?”

“I expect so, ma’am.” Smoke stepped into the saddle.

“Are you just gonna leave me here all alone with my poor dead father? I could sure use some comforting.” She batted her eyes at him. It was the most grotesque thing Smoke had ever seen—and he had seen some sights in his time.

“I’ll explain to the sheriff what happened,” Smoke said as he backed Star up. Damned if he was going to turn his back to this woman. “I’ll sure do that.”

When he had backed Star to the point where he was reasonably sure she could not hit him with the sawed-off, Smoke gave the big black his head. Star took off like the wind. The horse wasn’t real thrilled with Tessie, either.

When Smoke arrived back in town, he told Judge Garrison and Sal what he’d seen out at the Lightning spread. Neither man seemed very surprised.

“She’ll take every dollar from the safe, sell off the herds, and be gone in a month,” the judge prophesied. “And good riddance to bad baggage.”

Smoke looked around. Most of the bodies had been tossed in wagons and were being hauled off to be buried in a mass grave. Half the men in town were working with shovels at the gravesite.

“Wagons coming,” Jim announced, pointing to the north.

As the wagons neared, Judge Garrison said, “Saloon girls, gamblers, and assorted riffraff from Hell’s Creek. Rats leaving a sinking ship.”

“No,” Smoke said. “A burning one. Because that’s what we’re going to do in the morning.”

“Suits me,” Tom said. “I’ll ride with you.”

“Keep moving,” Sal told the lead wagon. “And don’t stop until you’re in the next county. And he won’t want you, either, ’cause I’m fixin’ to wire the sheriff and tell him about you scum.”

One of the ladies of the evening, sitting in the back of the wagon, gave him a very obscene gesture with a finger.

“I’ll jerk you out of that wagon and hand you over to the good ladies of this town,” Sal warned her. “And they’ll shave your head and tar and feather you.”

The shady lady tucked her finger away and stared straight ahead.

The wagons rumbled out of sight.

“Why wait until the morning?” Pete asked. “Hell, Smoke. Let’s ride up there and put that town out of its misery right now.”

Smoke was curious to see what had happened to Big Max. “All right. Let’s ride.”

The band of men had stopped at Brown’s farmhouse and asked if the farmers wanted any of the lumber in the town before they put the torch to it.

To a man, they shook their heads. “Thanks kindly, but no thanks,” Gatewood said. “We just want shut of that den of thieves and whores and hoodlums.”

The men rode on, Smoke, Pete, Tom Johnson, Judge Garrison, and half a dozen more of the town. They were heavily armed, for no one among them knew what awaited them in Hell’s Creek.

Desolation.

As they topped the ridge overlooking the town, they could all sense the place was empty, completely void of life.

“Let’s check it out,” Smoke said.

The men inspected every building. The town was deserted. Thre was no sign of Big Max Huggins. Smoke looked at the safe in Max’s quarters. The door was open and there was no sign of forced entry. So Max had found the strength to open it and ride.

Smoke found a coal-oil lantern, lit it, and tossed it into the squalor that someone had once lived in... and from all indications, it had housed several women. The building was quickly ablaze. The other men were doing the same with coal-oil-soaked rags. Soon, the fierceness of the heat drove them back.

In half an hour, the town of Hell’s Creek, Montana was no more than an unpleasant memory.

The men headed back toward Barlow, for a hot bath, a good meal, and some well-deserved rest. The day’s events would alter their lives forever. For the good.

All that was left for Sally and Smoke were the good-byes to the people of Barlow and the ranchers and farmers out in the county. In the short time they’d been there, a lot had happened and they had discovered some friendships that would last forever.

Robert had been transferred to the territorial mental asylum and the doctors there had given him very little hope of ever recovering.

Through Sally’s help, the new bank had agreed to loan Martha and Pete the money for a down payment on the Lightning spread. The two were married the day before Smoke and Sally were due to pull out.

Tessie Malone left the country the very day she sold Lightning to Pete and Martha.

Much to Sal’s embarrassment, Victoria announced that the newly elected sheriff had proposed marriage to her and that she had accepted. Victoria had also accepted a position of teaching at the new school.

The other new schoolteacher in town, a cute little redhead, was making goo-goo eyes at Jim Dagonne. Bets were that he’d be roped and hog-tied before summer’s end.

Smoke and Sally had said their good-byes to Joe Walsh and his wife.

The town of Barlow had been quiet for a week. Not one shot had been fired, not one fist had been swung in anger. Sal commented that it was just too good to last.

That proved true when one of Joe Walsh’s hands came fogging into town, pale as a ghost and so excited he could hardly talk. He’d found Smoke Jensen’s body on the trail. Sally Jensen was missing.