Donnelly turned toward Preacher and began, “I’m sorry about what happened here—”
“Forget it,” Preacher cut in, his voice hard as flint. “I reckon it’d be better if Uncle Dan and me left. We’ll get our horses.”
Donnelly and Lorraine looked surprised, and Uncle Dan appeared to be downright devastated. “Leave before
“I’m thinkin’ everybody in this camp believed those lies Moran was yellin’,” Preacher said. “We ain’t welcome here.”
“That’s not true!” Lorraine exclaimed. “It was all just a—”
Preacher held up a hand to stop her. “A misunderstandin’, I know. I’ve heard it said often enough the past few minutes. But that don’t change anything. Buckhalter didn’t want us here from the first, and he’s the wagon master. Be simpler all around if we’re gone. Better for everybody.”
“I don’t know about that,” Donnelly said. “What about those Pawnee?”
“I’ve already told you everything I can tell you to do. You remember what I said, and you’ll be all right. Main thing is to always be ready for trouble.”
He had allowed himself to forget that for a few moments, he reflected, had let down his guard because he was talking to a pretty woman and about to eat a good hot meal. All it had gotten him was a bust in the snoot and more guns pointed at him.
Lorraine stepped forward. “I really wish you wouldn’t go, Preacher.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” He reached up and tugged on the brim of his hat. “We’re much obliged for your hospitality, ain’t we, Uncle Dan?”
“What?” the old-timer said. “Oh. Yeah, I reckon. Much obliged.” Preacher took his arm and started leading him away from the wagon, and as they went, Uncle Dan added under his breath, “But I’d’a been a heap more obliged if’n I’d got on the outside o’ some supper first.”
“Hush up,” Preacher said, equally quietly. “We ain’t goin’ very far.”
Uncle Dan looked over at him, frowning in puzzlement. “What?”
“Buckhalter’s up to somethin’,” Preacher said, his voice grim, “and I damned well intend to find out what it is.”
Chapter 6
They saddled their horses and got the animals ready to travel. As they were doing so, Ned Donnelly came over and asked, “Is there anything I can say to get you to change your mind about this, Preacher?”
“Nope,” the mountain man replied. “Look, Donnelly, it’s just one night’s difference. Come mornin’, you’d have headed west and we’d have headed east anyway. Uncle Dan and I got business in St. Louis, and it can’t wait.”
Donnelly shrugged. “I suppose that’s true. I just hate to part when there are hard feelings involved.”
“There ain’t no hard feelin’s,” Preacher said with a shake of his head. “Not where you and your wife are concerned. You seem like fine folks, and I hope you make a good life for yourselves out yonder in Oregon Territory.”
Donnelly stuck out his hand. “Thank you. Good luck with your business in St. Louis.”
Preacher didn’t hesitate. He gripped the man’s hand and gave him a brisk nod.
Two minutes later, Preacher and Uncle Ned were riding away from the camp. As they went out through the gap between wagons, Preacher had seen Buckhalter watching them.
The wagon master wore a satisfied smirk on his face, as if he had gotten what he wanted after all. Preacher had the urge to knock that smirk right down Buckhalter’s throat, but that would have to wait. It was more important to figure out exactly what was going on here. Preacher’s gut told him that some sort of threat loomed over the wagon train, but he was damned if he knew what it was.
Once they were well away from the wagons, Uncle Dan said, “Now, you want to tell me what in the blue blazes is goin’ on here, Preacher?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Preacher said. “Buckhalter dreamed up that scheme, and I want to know why he was so desperate to get rid of us that he’d set a trap to murder me.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“You saw how he was ready to step right in there and blow a hole in my hide. He knew there was gonna be a fight before Moran ever threw the first punch. He would’ve likely got away with it, too, if you hadn’t been so quick to holler that warnin’ at me. Even with that, it was a mighty near thing.”
“Yeah, I thought you was a goner.” Uncle Dan scratched at his beard as they rode along in the thickening darkness. “You’re sayin’ that Buckhalter told Moran to jump you like that?”
Preacher explained the theory that had formed in his mind, and as he put it into words, he became even more convinced that he was right.
“Buckhalter was scared to have us around,” he concluded. “Scared that we’d mess up some plan of his.”
“What sort of plan?”
“That’s what we got to find out. Whatever it is, it must be happenin’ quick, maybe even tonight, for Buckhalter to get so spooked just because we were there.”
“So you weren’t really mad at those pilgrims? You were just puttin’ on so we’d have an excuse to leave and do some pokin’ around?”
