“All right, if that’s the way you want it,” Frank said with a nod. “Pete and I will go over to the hotel with the women, to make sure Smith doesn’t try anything again over there. Dog, stay here with Salty.”
The old man grinned under his beard. “You might as well be leavin’ a regiment with me. That critter’s worth a heap o’ fightin’ men in a ruckus.”
Frank and Conway escorted the women across the street to the hotel. It was frozen solid now under the snow, so they didn’t have to worry about the mud. Frank scanned the street carefully for any sign of Soapy Smith and his minions. He didn’t see anybody he recognized, but he realized Smith could have plenty of men working for him that Frank didn’t know about. Still, no one made a move that was out of line.
The women’s entrance into the hotel dining room caused quite a stir among the men having breakfast. The news of what had happened the night before had gotten around town, and men who would have craned their necks anyway to get a glimpse of the mail-order brides were even more interested because the women were accompanied by the notorious gunfighter known as The Drifter.
Frank ignored the curious stares, as he always did, and ushered the women to a big, empty table. They were the only females in the place. A waiter brought coffee for everybody, and Frank ordered hotcakes and bacon all around. This would clean out the last of his cash. From here on, though, they would be living on the supplies he had already bought, plus whatever fresh meat they could kill along the trail.
“Eat as much as you can,” Frank told the women as the platters of food arrived at the table. “You won’t be getting another meal like this for a while. Not until you get to Whitehorse, anyway.”
The women followed his advice and ate heartily, finishing off several platters of hotcakes and bacon and washing the food down with three pots of coffee. When they were finished, Lucy Calvert moaned and said, “Oh, I don’t think I’ll need to eat again for a month!”
“You’d better remember that,” Meg told her with a grin. “The rest of us will split your share of the supplies.”
“Now, hold on—” Lucy said before realizing that Meg was joking. She smiled and laughed then, too.
Frank settled the hotel bill, including the breakfast, and then he and Conway took the women outside again. Fiona said quietly to him, “I owe you more than I can ever repay, Frank, and I’m not just talking about money. Although I intend to make things right with you on that account, too.”
“Wait and see how things go when we get to Whitehorse,” he told her.
“All right, but just don’t forget…you can have anything you want from me. That’s how much I’m in your debt.”
Before he could think about what Fiona meant by that, he heard Conway say in a warning tone, “Frank…” and looked up to see Soapy Smith standing near the sleds, along with Yeah Mow Hopkins, Joe Palmer, Sid Dixon, and Big Ed Burns. Salty Stevens was on the other side of the sleds, clutching a Winchester tightly in his gnarled hands. Dog was at his side, growling softly.
Smith grinned and waved a hand toward the old-timer and the big cur, saying, “Call off your dogs, Morgan… both of ’em.”
Frank didn’t respond to Smith right away. He said to Conway, “Take the women into the livery stable, Pete. Keep them there until I tell you it’s clear.”
“Right, Frank,” the young man said. He glared at Smith and kept his rifle pointing in the man’s general direction as he went with the women into the stable.
Still smiling, Smith said, “All this caution isn’t necessary, Morgan. We may have had our differences yesterday, but that’s all in the past. I’m not the sort of man who believes in holding a grudge.”
Frank didn’t believe that for a second. “What about last night?” he snapped.
“Last night?” Smith said, raising his eyebrows in apparent innocence. “I heard that there was some sort of ruckus at the hotel, but it didn’t have anything to do with me. What was that all about, anyway?”
“Somebody tried to kidnap the women and kill the rest of us.” Frank paused, then added meaningfully, “I figured you knew all about it.”
Smith shook his head. “No, this is the first I’ve heard exactly what happened.”
That was a bald-faced lie, and all of them knew it, but Frank didn’t have any proof to the contrary. He thought about the man whose throat had been cut and glanced at Sid Dixon. The little opium addict gave him a sly grin that caused anger to well up inside Frank. Dixon could have untied the man and helped him to escape. Instead, he had taken the quick, easy way out and used his knife, probably because he enjoyed it. As far as Frank was concerned, a man like Dixon was lower than a snake’s belly.
“Anyway, I’d heard that you were leaving this morning,” Smith went on, “and I just wanted to come over and wish you good luck on your journey. I’m sorry we couldn’t come to an agreement on a business arrangement,” he shrugged, “but I respect your decision on that.”
“You came to wish us good luck,” Frank said, allowing a tone of skepticism into his voice.
“Sure. It’s a long way to Whitehorse. A long, hard way.” Smith was still smiling, but hatred burned in his dark, deep-set eyes. “And I figure that you’ll be able to use all the luck you can get.”
Chapter 24
Smith and his men left, but the veiled threat in the man’s words stayed with Frank as he called the women out of the stable and got them loaded onto the sleds. They were bundled up in parkas, fur hats, and blankets. Fiona, Elizabeth, and Lucy rode on the first sled, the one that would be handled by Salty, with bundles of supplies lashed on in front of them. The arrangement was the same on the other sleds: supplies in front, passengers in back.
As Frank had expected, Meg had volunteered when she found out that one of the women would have to handle a sled. She took the second sled, with Marie, Ruth, and Ginnie. Lizzie and Maureen were on the third sled, with Bart Jennings standing at the gee-pole. Jessica and Elizabeth settled in on the fourth sled, the one that was Pete Conway’s responsibility.
Frank wasn’t surprised that Jessica wanted to be close to Conway. The budding romance between them was
