When the chastised men had departed, Luis said, “Perhaps,
Tilden shifted his cold eyes to the Mexican gunfighter. “I’ll pass the word, Luis. You’re in charge. The others take orders from you.
Luis smiled his reply.
“Make your plans, Luis.”
“This game
“No limits, Luis. Let the chips fall.”
“I like this game,
“I rather thought you would,” Tilden said tightly.
Belle Colby stood in her front yard, Bob by her side, and listened to Donnie haltingly tell what had happened. The TF gunslick’s face was flushed with anger, but he told it all, leaving nothing out.
When he had finished, Johnny said, “If I ever see you on this range, Donnie, I’ll kill you. Now ride, punk— ride!”
Donnie wheeled his horse and galloped out.
Bob said, “Are you really Johnny North?”
“Yes. Ma’am?” He looked at Belle. “I’ll be ridin’ over to the Sugarloaf. I should be back by sundown. I’ll bunk in the barn if that’s all right with you.”
“That will be fine, Mister North.”
She had taken the news of her husband’s death calmly. Too calmly for Johnny. He sat his horse and looked at her.
“You’re wondering why I’m behaving in such a calm manner, Mister North?”
“The thought did pass my mind, ma’am.”
“My husband told me before dawn this morning, as he was belting on a gun, that he was going into town. I felt then that I would never see him again. I did my grieving this morning.”
Johnny nodded his head. He sat looking at the woman for a moment longer. Nice-looking woman; kind of trail worn, but that was to be expected, for this was a hard life for a woman. Then he thought of all the dance-hall floozies and hurdy-gurdy girls he had known down through the long and bloody years. Belle Colby, with her worn gingham dress, sunburned face, and work-hardened hands, seemed beautiful compared to them.
Johnny cleared his throat and plopped his hat back on his head. “You gonna need help around here, ma’am,” he said. “If’n it’s all right, I’ll stick around and pull my weight and then some.”
“That would be nice, Mister North,” Belle said with a tired smile. “Yes. I’d like that.”
Johnny returned the smile and wheeled his horse, heading to the Sugarloaf.
The crowd was respectable at Colby’s burying, but not near so many people showed up as had Adam’s planting. Most men, whether they would say it aloud or not—and it was the latter if they were married, felt that Colby had done a damn fool thing. And while most of them didn’t condone what Donnie had done, they probably would not have interfered. They might have done something similar had they been in Colby’s boots, but it would have been done with sawed-off express gun in their hands, not with a pistol in a fast-draw type of situation.
Out here, a man had damned well best know his limitations and capabilities.
And behave accordingly.
Once again the Reverend Ralph Morrow conducted the funeral services, and once again he and Bountiful and lots of others stayed for lunch. That was no problem, for everyone who attended the services had brought some sort of covered dish.
Like hangings, funerals also served as quite a social event.
Louis Longmont was there, all fancied up in a tailored black suit…carefully tailored to hide the shoulder-holster rig he wore under the jacket.
The aging gunfighters were all in attendance, gussied up in their best. They made no attempts to conceal their Colts, wearing them openly, low and tied down.
Pearlie had stayed behind at the Sugarloaf, just in case some TF riders decided to use the occasion to come calling. With a funeral of their own in mind.
Monte Carson and Judge Proctor were there, and so were Hunt and Willow Brook, Colton and Mona Spalding, Haywood and Dana Arden.
Ed Jackson did not show. He figured he might lose a dollar or so by closing down his store.
Besides, Ed felt that Colby had gotten exactly what he deserved. And the next time he saw that Smoke Jensen, Ed just might give him a good piece of his mind about the totally uncalled-for beating of a fine man like Tilden Franklin. Well…he’d think about doing that, anyways.
“Going to stay on up here for a time?” Monte asked Johnny.
“Thought I might. Belle has her hands full all day just tryin’ to look after Velvet, and I think me and Bob can pretty well handle it. And some of them old gunslingers come over from time to time, Belle says. Them old boys know a lot about farming and such.”
Monte and Judge Proctor said their goodbyes to Belle and returned to Fontana.
By late afternoon, most of those attending had left for home, since many had traveled miles to get there. About half of the old gunslicks had left, returning to the Sugarloaf to give Pearlie a break.
