She shuddered. “Smoke, you don’t do things like that in New Hampshire.”
“Why? He’s worse than a rabid beast. What’s the matter with the people back east?”
“It’s called civilization, honey.”
“Is that right? Sounds to me like they got a yellow streak running up their backs.”
She shook her head and fought to hide a smile.
“If I take him alive, you want me to wrap him up in a fresh deer hide and stake him out in the sun?”
Sally sighed and looked at her man. “Smoke…no! How gruesome! What would that accomplish?”
“Pay back, Sally. Sun dries the hide around them; kills them slow. Helps to tie a fresh cut strip of green rawhide around their heads. That really lets them know they’ve done wrong; that someone is right displeased with them.”
She shuddered. “I think they would get that message, all right.”
“Almost always, Sally. Your folks back east, Sally, they’ve got this notion about treating bad men humanely. That’s what I’ve been reading. But the bad men don’t treat their victims humanely. Seems like to me, your folks got things all screwed up in their heads. You won’t have crime, Sally, if you don’t have criminals.”
She sighed, knowing there was really no argument against what he was saying. It was a hard land, this frontier, and it took a hard breed to survive. They were good to good people. Terribly brutal to those who sought the evil way.
And who was to say that the hard way was not the right way?
She smiled at her man. “I guess that’s why I love you so much, Smoke. You are so direct and straightforward in your thinking. I think you are going to be a most refreshing cool breeze to my family and friends back in New Hampshire.”
“Maybe.”
“Smoke, I am going to say this once, and I will not bring it up again. I married you, knowing full well what kind of man you are. And you are a good man, but hard. I have never tried to change you. I don’t believe that is what marriage is all about.”
“And I thank you for that, Sally.”
“I know you are going man-hunting, Smoke. And I know, like you, that it is something you have to do. I don’t always understand; but in this case, I do. My parents and brothers and sisters will not. Nor will my friends. But I do.”
“And you’re going to tell them what I’m doing?”
“Certainly. And you’ll probably be written up in the local newspaper.”
“Seems to me they ought to have more important things to write about than that.”
Sally laughed at his expression. How could she explain to him that the people back in Keene didn’t carry guns; that most had never seen a fast draw; that many of them didn’t believe high noon shoot-outs ever occurred?
He probably wouldn’t believe her. He’d have to see for himself.
“Smoke, I know that you take chances that many other men would not take. You’re a special breed. I learned early on why many people call you the last mountain man. Perhaps that is yet another of the many reasons I love you like I do. So do this for me: When you put me on that train and see me off, put me out of your mind. Concentrate solely on the job facing you. I know you have that quality about you; you do it. I will leave messages at the wire offices for you, telling you how I am and where I can be reached at all times. You try to do the same for me, whenever you can.”
“I will, Sally. And that’s a promise. But I’m going to be out-of-pocket for a couple of months, maybe longer.”
“I know. That’s all I ask, Smoke. We’ll say no more about it.” She came to him and pulled his head down, kissing him.
“I have an idea, Sally.”
“What?”
“All the hands are gone. The place is all ours. But it might hurt the baby.”
“I bet it won’t.” She smiled impishly at him.
She was right.
Smoke stood watching until the caboose was out of sight. Dr. Spalding had walked back into the station house. Spalding and his wife, Mona, along with Sally, had ridden the stage into Denver. Smoke had ridden Drifter. He had not brought a pack animal; he’d buy one in the city.
There were already laws in parts of Denver about carrying guns, so Smoke had left his twin Colts back in the hotel room. He carried a short-barreled Colt, tucked behind his belt, covered by his coat.
Smoke turned away from the now-silent twin ribbons of steel that linked the nation. “See you soon, Sally,” he muttered. He walked back into the station house.
“Are you going to stay in town for a time and see some of the shows?” Colton asked.
Smoke shook his head. “No. I’m going to gear up and pull out.” He held out his right hand and Colton shook it. “You’ll stay in touch with the doctors in Boston?”
“Yes. I’ll have progress reports for you whenever you wire Big Rock.”
“Check on Billy every now and then.”
Colton nodded. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine. You take care, Smoke.”
