“And their pockets,” the other miner spoke.
“Have at it,” Smoke told them. “The pilgrims will pay.”
“Now see here!” Ed said starting to protest.
“Shut up, Ed,” Haywood told him. He looked at the miners. “You gentlemen may proceed with the digging.”
“Talks funny,” one miner remarked, getting down and tying his mule. He got a shovel from his pack animal and his partner followed suit.
“You live and work in this area, Mister Smoke?” Mona asked.
One miner dropped his shovel and his partner froze still as stone. The miner who dropped his shovel picked it up and slowly turned to face Smoke. “Smoke Jensen?”
“Yes.”
“Lord God Almighty! Ford shore enuff bit off more than he could chew. Smoke Jensen. My brother was over to Uncompahgre, Smoke. Back when you cleaned it up. He said that shore was a sight to see.”*
Smoke nodded his head and the miners walked off a short distance to begin their digging. “How deep?” one called.
“Respectable,” Smoke told them.
They nodded and began spading the earth.
“Are you a gunfighter, Mister Smoke?” Willow asked. “I’m a rancher and farmer, Ma’am. But I once had the reputation of being a gunhawk, yes.”
“You seem so young,” she observed. “Yet you talk as if it was years ago. How old were you when you became a…gunhawk?”
“Fourteen. Or thereabouts. I disremember at times.” Smoke usually spoke acceptable English, thanks to Sally; but at times he reverted back to Preacher’s dialect.
“He’s kilt more’un a hundred men!” one of the miners called.
The wagon people fell silent at that news. They looked at Smoke with a mixture of horror, fascination, and revulsion in their eyes.
It was nothing new to Smoke. He had experienced that look many times in his young life. He kept his face as expressionless as his cold eyes.
Smoke cut his eyes to Bountiful. “Lady,” he said, exasperation in his voice, his tone hard. “Will you please cover your tits!”
Smoke had seen the remainder of the rancher-farmers in the mountain area and then headed for home. He almost never took the same trail back to his cabin. A habit he had picked up from Preacher. A habit that had saved his life on more than one occasion.
Even though he was less than five miles from his cabin when dark slipped into the mountains, he decided not to chance the ride in. He elected to make camp and head home at first light.
He caught several small fish from a mountain stream and broiled them over a small fire. That and the remainder of Sally’s bread was his supper.
Twice during the night Smoke came fully awake, certain he had heard gunshots. He knew they were far away, but he wondered about it. The last shot he heard before he drifted back to sleep came from the south, far away from Sally and the cabin.
He was up and moving out before full dawn broke. Relief filled him when he caught a glimpse of the cabin, Sally in the front yard. Smoke broke into a grin when he saw how she was dressed…in men’s britches. His eyes mirrored approval when he noted Seven and Drifter in the corral. As he rode closer, he saw the pistol belted around her waist, and the express gun leaning against the door frame, on the outside of the cabin.
Man and wife embraced, each loving the touch and feel of the other. With their mouths barely apart, she saw the darkness in his eyes and asked, “Trouble?”
“Some. A hell of a lot more coming, though. I’ll tell you about it. You?”
“Didn’t see a soul.”
They kissed their love and she pushed him away, mischief in her hazel eyes. “I missed you.”
“Oh? How much?”
“By the time you see to Horse and get in the house, I’ll be ready to show you how much.”
Fastest unsaddling and rub-down in the history of the West.
Passions cooled and sated, she lay with her head on Smoke’s muscular shoulder. She listened as he told her all that had happened since he had ridden from the ranch. He left nothing out.
“Sec anyone that you knew in town? Any newcomers, I mean?”
“Some. Utah Slim. I’m sure it was him.”
“I’ve heard you talk of him. He’s good?”
“One of the best.”
“Better than you?”
“No,” Smoke said softly.
“Anyone else?”
“Monte Carson. He’s a backshooter. Big Mamma O’Neil. Louis Longmont. Louis is all right. Just as long as no
