They knew before either man sighted the wearers of those boots and spurs.
The first rider burst into the large tent.
“I don’t know him,” Louis said. “You?”
“Unfortunately. He’s one of Tilden’s gunhands. Calls himself Tay. I ran into him when I was riding with Preacher. Back then he was known as Carter. I heard he was wanted for murder back in Arkansas.”
“Sounds like a delightful fellow,” Louis said drily.
“He’s a bully. But don’t sell him short. He’s hell with a short gun.”
Louis smiled. “Better than you, Smoke?” he asked, a touch of humor in the question.
“No one is better than me, Louis,” Smoke said, in one of his rare moments of what some would call arrogance; others would call it merely stating a proven fact.
Louis’s chuckle held no mirth. “I believe I am better, my friend.”
“I hope we never have to test that out of anger, Louis.”
“We won’t,” Louis replied. “But let’s do set up some cans and make a small wager someday.”
“You’re on.”
The gunfighter Tay turned slowly, his eyes drifting first to Louis, then to Smoke.
“Hello, punk!” Tay said, his voice silencing the piano player and hushing the hubbub of voices in the gaming tent.
“Are you speaking to me, you unshaven lout?” Louis asked.
“Naw,” Tay said. The leather thongs that secured his guns were off, left and right. “Pretty boy there.”
“You’re a fool,” Smoke said softly, his voice carrying to Tay, overheard by all in the gaming room.
“I’m gonna kill you for that!” Tay said.
Those men and women seated between Tay and Smoke cleared out, moving left and right.
“I hope you have enough in your pockets to bury you,” Smoke said.
Tay’s face flushed, both hands hovering over the butt of his guns.
He snarled at Smoke.
Smoke laughed at him.
“A hundred dollars on the Circle TF rider,” a man seated at a table said.
“You’re on,” Louis said taking the wager. “Gentlemen,” he said to Smoke and Tay. “Bets are down.”
Tay’s eyes were shiny, but his hands were steady over his guns.
Smoke held his beer mug in his left hand.
“Draw, goddamn you!” Tay shouted.
“After you,” Smoke replied. “I always give a sucker a break whenever possible.”
Tay grabbed for his guns.
9
“Your behavior the other day was disgusting!” Ralph Morrow would not let up on his wife. “Those men are dead because of you. You do realize that, don’t you?”
Bountiful tossed her head, her blond curls bouncing around her beautiful face. Her lips were set in a pout. “I did nothing,” she said defending her actions.
“My god, I married an animal!” Ralph said, disgust in his voice. “Can’t you see you’re a minister’s wife?”
“I’m beginning to see a lot of things, Ralph. One of which is I made a mistake.”
“In coming out West? Did we have a choice, Bountiful? After your disgraceful behavior in Ohio, I’m very lucky the Church even gave me another chance.”
She waved that off. “No, Ralph, not that. In my marrying such a pompous wee-wee!”
Ralph flushed and balled his fists. “You take that back!” he yelled at her.
“You take that back!” she repeated mimicking him scornfully. “My God, Ralph! You’re such a flummox!”
Man and wife were several miles from the town of Fontana. They were on the banks of a small creek. Ralph sat down on the bank and refused to look at her. A short distance away at their camp, the others tried without much success not to listen to their friends quarrel.
“They certainly are engaged in a plethora of flapdoodle,” Haywood observed.
“I feel sorry for him,” Dana said.
“I don’t,” Ed said. “It’s his own fault he’s such a sissy-pants.”
All present looked at Ed in the dancing flames of the fire. If there was a wimp among them, it was Ed. Ed had found a June bug in his blankets on the way West and, from his behavior one might have thought he’d discovered a nest of rattlers. It had taken his wife a full fifteen minutes to calm him down.
Haywood sat on a log and puffed his Meerschaum. Of them all, Haywood was the only person who knew the true story about Ralph Morrow. And if the others wanted to think him a sissy-pants…well, that was their mistake. But Haywood had to admit that, from all indications, when Ralph had fully accepted Christ into his life, he had gone a tad overboard.
