Battle of the Mountain Man

Jessie ignored the remark and rode his horse off the knob to reach the river. But as he got closer, he felt something was wrong. He heard the others following him, but at a slower gait.

He rode up to the blanket-clad body and jumped down, in a hurry to set eyes on Jensen’s corpse. He knelt and pulled back the dark blue blanket, riddled with pellet holes, and what he saw made him draw in a quick breath.

“It’s Pickett,” Billy Morton observed without leaving the back of his horse.

Jessie’s hand, the one holding the blanket, began to shake. He dropped the woolen cloth quickly and stood up, gazing at the mounted figure far across the river. “That is Jensen,” he said with a dry mouth.

“He’s prob’ly laughin’ at us,” Tom said. “One thing’s for damn sure—he’s gotta be the toughest hombre I ever ran across, an’ if Bill Pickett was still alive, he’d be sayin’ the same damn thing. You can count me out of this, Jessie. I’m pulling stakes while I still can.”

“That goes fer me too,” Billy said, looking up at the man watching them from the ridge. “I knowed when he killed twelve of us back in that draw there was somethin’ about him that damn near wasn’t human. If you’re smart, Jessie, you’ll let that feller go wherever the hell he aims to go with his cows.”

Jessie whirled to Jose Vasquez. “How ’bout you, Jose?”

“I see enough,” Vasquez replied. “This man be muy malo, one bad hombre. Maybeso he is no man, un espiritu. He kill three of my cousins, also many of mi compadres. I don’t want no more to have fight with him. We going back to Mexico .”

When Jessie looked at Pedro, Pedro shrugged.

“Is no good, Senor Jessie. We no can kill him. He kill Ignacio and Roy and now he kill Senor Pickett. He make killing look easy. He kill us also if we don’t leave him alone.”

Jessie turned back to Jensen, scowling. “Mr. Dolan ain’t gonna like it when I tell him.”

Tom spoke. “Tell Dolan to try an’ kill him hisself. He’ll find out damn quick it ain’t easy done.”

Jessie’s jaw clamped angrily. “I wonder who he really is. I can guarantee you he ain’t just some cattle rancher from up north.”

“No lo hase, ”Vasquez said. “It make no difference to me. I only know one thing about him—he don’t get no more chances to kill me or mi compadres. We go home now.”

Billy rested his elbow on his saddle horn. “That don’t leave nobody but you, Jessie. We’ve knowed each other a long time, an’ I’m givin’ you good advice. Leave that Jensen feller plumb alone or you’ll wind up like Pickett an’ Cooper an’ all the rest.”

“He’s just sittin’ there watchin’ us,”Jessie said, with his gaze still fixed on the ridge.

“He’s waitin’ to see what we’ll do, I reckon,” Tom said. “If we act like we’re comin’ after him, he won’t be sittin’ there in plain sight very long.”

Jessie’s hands unconsciously balled into fists, then they relaxed.

“C’mon, Jessie,” Billy said quietly. “Let’s git the hell outa here afore Jensen changes his mind.”

“It ain’t my nature to run,” Jessie replied, still frozen to the same spot above Pickett’s corpse.

“It’s any man’s nature to wanna stay alive,” Tom suggested. “We got no quarrel with Jensen.”

Jose Vasquez was done talking. He gave a silent signal to his men and reined away from the river, riding off in a cloud of dust swirling in the breeze. Pedro and his two remaining men were not long in following Vasquez, swinging their mounts around after the other pistoleros.

Jessie’s shoulders sagged. He finally took his eyes off Jensen to look at Billy and Tom. “We can’t tell Dolan what really happened, boys. It’ll make us look like fools.”

Billy wagged his head. “The only way we’d look like bigger fools is to stay an’ tangle with Jensen again. We can tell Dolan a bunch of Chisum’s riders showed up, leavin’ us outnumbered. If you agree to leave this Jensen alone, I’ll stay on with Dolan’s outfit Otherwise, I’m cuttin’ a trail for parts unknown.”

“Same goes fer me,” Tom said, as Jessie finally mounted his horse.

Jessie gave Smoke Jensen a final stare, then without a word he wheeled his horse around to head back to Lincoln. It damn sure wasn’t going to be easy giving Dolan the bad news, and it could cost him a good-paying job as Dolan’s ramrod.Forty

Approaching the lush green mountains and meadows south of Sugarloaf range brightened everyone’s mood. The cattle were fat and had proven to be trail-worthy, even the short-strided Hereford bulls. It had been two weeks since the last confrontation with Jessie Evans and his paid guns, a peaceful two weeks of guiding cows across good grazing and plenty of water.

Smoke had all but forgotten about the battles with Dolan’s gunslingers, until they neared Sugarloaf. He’d have to come clean with Sally about what he’d done, the men he killed, and he feared making the admission more than he’d ever feared the risks when bullets were flying.

“She’ll throw a fit,” he said one clear, crisp spring morning less than a dozen miles below Sugarloaf.

“You’re talkin’ about Miz Jensen, ain’tyou?” Pearlie asked with a grin, “I understand. I’d rather face the Shoshoni tribe on the warpath than Miz Jensen when she’s got her feathers ruffled.”

“I’ll make her understand,” Smoke said without conviction, “even though she’ll keep reminding me of my promise to stay wide of difficulties.”

“We tried to avoid ’em,” Pearlie remembered.

“They was just too damn hardheaded, an’ wouldn’t leave us alone.”

Cal came riding up as the herd wound its way through a valley leading to Bob Williams’s ranch. “We’re home,”