“That Jud Vale is going to bring this war to a head real soon?”
“Huh? You been readin’ my mind. Yeah. Reckon why we both come up with that?”
“We’ve made a fool out of him too many times, Jackson. Last night was probably that much-talked about straw that broke the camel’s back. Now he knows that peole are laughing at him. With his ego, he won’t be able to tolerate that. He’ll have to do something to reinstill the fear that people once had for him.”
“By killing us.” Jackson’s words were offered in a flat tone.
“That’s it. Or part of it, at least.” “He ain’t gonna get it done.”
“I believe that. I just don’t want to see the women or the kids get hurt.”
They drank coffee and smoked their cigarettes in silence for a time. “What are you gonna do when this mess is over?” Jackson asked.
“Head south. My wife and kids are down in Arizona. The youngest took a lung infection. Had to go there for health reasons. You?”
Jackson took a moment before replying. “Walt’s asked me to stay on. Says he’ll give me a working interest in the ranch if I do. And … well, me and Susie been eyeballin’ each other. I might do it. I backed into gunfightin’ like a lot of other men. Never set out to hunt me no reputation. It just come on me. One day I looked up—I’d been punchin’ cows for a man over in Nevada Territory—and these two men ’bout my age come into the saloon where I was havin’ a beer and braced me. Said they was gonna kill me. I asked them why? They said ’cause of who I was. Surprised the hell out of me that I was anyone special. They grabbed for iron and I was faster. The boss said he didn’t want no gun slicks on his payroll and paid me off the next day. I drifted. Hooked up with some men headin’ for Utah to draw fightin’ wages. I reckon the rest is history.”
Rusty had walked up, to stand quietly and listen. When Jackson fell silent, Rusty said, “You ought to stay, Jackson. Me and Doreen is gonna get hitched up soon as the trouble is over. The ranch is damn sure big enough for the both of us.”
“I been thinkin’ on it for sure.”
“Light’s on in the kitchen,” Smoke said. “Breakfast pretty soon.”
“Dolittle’s up. He’ll wake the boys,” Rusty told him. “What’s up for today?”
“Going over every inch of this ranch compound and making sure we can stand off a heavy attack. It’s got to come. Jackson, I want you to take some of the boys and start clearing off all the brush from the hills and ridges around this place. Make damn sure we can’t be burnt out. That’ll also cut down on the risk of any riflemen slipping in on us.”
“Good move,” Jackson agreed.
“I’m hungry,” Rusty said, one eye on the light coming from the kitchen window.
“I’ve never seen you when you weren’t,” Smoke said with a smile. “When you and Doreen get married, you best plant a big garden.”
“You do know how to use a hoe, don’t you?” Jackson kidded him.
“I ’spect, the way you and Susie is calf-eyin’ each other, you’ll be hoein’ right along ’side me,” Rusty fired back.
Jackson laughed. “Yeah, if it all works out. Be a welcome relief from gunfightin’.”
“Don’t ever pack those guns too far out of sight, Jackson,” Smoke warned him. “It doesn’t work. I know. I changed my name and dried it for a lime. You’ll always have to keep a sharp eye on your backtrail.”
“I know,” Jackson’s words came after a sigh. “But I do wish that some of us could get that message through to young Matt.”
“Could anybody tell you anything when you were his age?”
Jackson smiled ruefully. “Nope. I heard all the words, but they never sunk in.”
“Matt will have to find his own way,” Smoke said, standing up from the bench. “Just like we did. But I think Old Cheyenne—in the time he had to spend with him— taught Matt a thing or two.”
“Walt is talkin’ about hirin’ the boy on as a full-time puncher,” Rusty said. “Matt says he’s through with schoolin’.”
“That’s a good idea. I imagine Matt will stay for a year or two. Then he’ll get ants in his pants and drift. All we can do is wish him well.”
Rusty looked toward the ranch house and the lighted kitchen window. “Damn, I’m hungry!”
23
Jud Vale lay on his belly in bed, while a doctor from Montpelier probed and dug and pulled out thorns, some of them more than three inches long. Jud hollered and squalled and carried on all through the procedure.
But the pain seemed to have done one thing: it had cleared Jud’s mind, at least for the moment. His ermine robe and crown had been tossed to the floor. He was still as nutty as a pecan pie but some lucidity had crept through the madness.
Through the open window of his bedroom, Jud could see men digging graves to bury the recent dead. He cursed Smoke Jensen, his brother, his bastard son, and everyone else he could think of.
Especially Doreen. He cussed Doreen for playing him for a fool until he was breathless. Long after the doctor had left, doing his best to hide a grin, Jud was still cussing.
Jason came to his room and waited until his boss and long-time partner in murder, rape, and robbery had calmed down some. “What do you want me to do with them royal duds and that bent crown?”
