The riders turned and reined up, dismounting at the hitchrail. Sally stepped off the porch and walked toward the picket fence, a smile on her lips.
Smoke stood by the gate and stared at her, not trusting his voice to speak.
“You’ve lost weight,” Sally said.
“I’ve been missing your cooking.”
He opened the gate.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Is that all you’ve been missing?” She spoke low, so her words reached only his ears.
Smoke stepped through the open gate, his spurs jingling. He stopped a few feet from her. “Well, let’s see. I reckon I might have missed you just a tad.”
And then she was in his arms, loving the strong feel of him. Her tears wet his face as she lifted her lips to his.
York lifted his hat and let out a war whoop.
Walter Reynolds swallowed his snuff.
20
“Should you be out of bed this soon?” Smoke asked his wife.
“Oh, the doctors tried to get me to stay in bed much longer, but since I didn’t have the time to get to the city to have the babies, and they came so easily, I left the bed much earlier than most, I imagine.”
“I keep forgetting how tough you are.” Smoke smiled across the twin cradles at her.
“Have you thought about names, Smoke?”
“Uh…no, I really haven’t. I figured you’d have them named by now.”
“I have thought of a couple.”
“Oh?”
“How about Louis Arthur and Denise Nicole?”
Louis for Louis Longmont. Arthur for Old Preacher. And Nicole for Smoke’s first wife, who was murdered by outlaws, and their baby son, Arthur, who was also killed. Denise was an old family name on the Reynolds side.
“You don’t object to naming the girl after Nicole?”
“No,” Sally said with a smile. “You know I don’t.”
“Louis will be pleased.”
“I thought so.”
Smoke looked at the sleeping babies. “Are they ever going to wake up?”
She laughed softly. “Don’t worry. You’ll know when they wake. Come on. Let’s go back and join the rest of the family.”
Smoke looked around for Louis and York. John caught his eye. “I tried to get them to stay. I insisted, told them we had plenty of room. But Mr. Longmont said he felt it would be best if they stayed at the local hotel. Did we offend them, Son?”
Smoke shook his head as the family gathered around. “No. We’re here on some business as well as to get Sally. It would be best if we split up. I’ll explain.”
John looked relieved. “I was so afraid we had somehow inadvertently offended Mr. Longmont.”
John Reynolds stared at Smoke as his son-in-law laughed out loud. “Hell, John. Louis just wanted to find a good poker game, that’s all!”
It was after lunch, and the family was sitting on the front porch. Smoke had not removed his guns and had no intention of doing so.
And it was not just the young people who stared at him with a sort of morbid fascination.
“Tell me about Dead River,” Sally spoke. She glanced at her nieces and nephews. “You, scoot! There’ll be a lot of times to talk to your Uncle Smoke.”
The kids reluctantly left the porch.
Smoke shaped and rolled and licked and lit. He leaned back in his chair and propped his boots up on the porch railing. “Got kind of antsy there for the last day or two before we opened the dance.”
“You went to a dance?” Betsy asked.
Smoke cut his eyes. “Opening the dance means I started the lead flying, Betsy.”
“Oh!” Her eyes were wide.
“You mean as soon as you told the hooligans to surrender, they opened fire?” Jordan inquired.
Smoke cut his eyes to him. “No,” he drawled. “It means that me and York come in the back way of the saloon, hauled iron, and put about half a dozen of them on the floor before the others knew what was happening.” It wasn’t really accurate, but big deal.
“We don’t operate that way in the East,” Walter said, a note of disdain in his voice.
“I reckon not. But the only thing Dead River was east of was Hell. And anybody who thinks they can put out the fires of Hell with kindness and conversation is a damn fool. And fools don’t last long in the wilderness.”
John verbally stepped in before his son found himself slapped on his butt out in the front yard. “A young lady
