awake yet.”
“You’re awake enough. The lives of your family and all your friends are at stake.”
“It won’t be like you think it will.”
“Damn it, Lester. Don’t do this. You’re in danger. You and everyone here. Gore really found gold. He needs your wagons to transport it out of Nez Perce country, and he will have them, by God, even if it means wiping all of you out.”
Lester chuckled. “Did I ask you if you had been drinking?”
Fargo almost hit him. “What does it take to get something through that thick skull of yours?”
“Calm down.”
“The hell I will,” Fargo fumed. “I’ve never met anyone so pigheaded in all my life.”
“There is no need for insults. I wish you could put yourself in my boots. Then you wouldn’t be so mad.”
Fargo grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “You must warn everyone. You must arm them and be ready when Gore and his killers ride in.”
“When Victor and our protectors ride in,” Lester corrected him.
Fargo drew back. “To hell with you. I’ll warn the others myself so they can defend themselves.”
“You’ll do no such thing. These are my people.” The big farmer smiled. “Now please. Calm yourself. Trust me when I say all will be well. The Good Lord has watched over us from the start and He won’t forsake us now.”
“Damn you.” If beating sense into Winston would do any good, Fargo would gladly pound him to a pulp. “You’re asking for an early grave.”
“If you only knew,” Lester said.
Fargo remembered Rachel saying the exact same thing. He was about to ask what Lester meant when merry chortling let him know someone else was awake.
“He sure is funny, Pa,” Billy said. “He looks fit to lay an egg.”
“Be nice, boy,” the father chided. “He’s worried about us, is all. That’s to his credit.”
“He’s worried about Sis,” Billy said.
Lester made Fargo madder by laughing. “No doubt that’s true. But we should still be nice to him.”
Fargo quickly said, “Then you’ll warn the rest? You’ll be ready for Gore when he rides in?”
“I’m curious. Ready how, exactly? Do you expect us to shoot them from their saddles?”
Billy laughed.
Fargo walked away. It was either that or slug Lester. He went around to the other side of the wagon to cool down. He reminded himself he still had time to warn the settlers himself.
The morning routine got under way.
Rachel gave Fargo a warm smile upon awakening. She languidly stretched, her breasts swelling against her nightgown, and showed the pink tip of her tongue between her lips so only he could see. “Good morning, handsome.”
Martha bustled about preparing breakfast. So did other women.
The men gathered in the middle of the circle for their morning talk about what they planned to do that day.
Fargo got their attention by raising his arms. “I have something to say to you.”
All eyes swung toward him, and then to Lester Winston, who frowned and sighed.
“I suppose we have no choice but to hear him out. He won’t let it drop otherwise.”
“I sure won’t,” Fargo confirmed. “I’ve tried to warn your leader but he has no more sense than a goat. Victor Gore is coming to kill you.”
No one said anything.
“Didn’t you hear me? Gore and Rinson are in cahoots. They need your wagons to take gold back to civilization.”
All they did was stare until one farmer said to Winston, “This is what he’s so agitated about?”
That was the last straw. Fargo shouldered in among them, growling, “What the hell is the matter with you people? You have families. Wives and kids. Don’t you care that they could all be dead soon?”
“That won’t happen,” a farmer declared.
“We love our families,” yet another said.
“I don’t see you rushing for your guns,” Fargo told them. “You don’t even act like you believe me.”
“We’re tillers of the soil, not killers,” the one named Harvey said.
“You’re idiots, is what you are,” Fargo said gruffly. “Plain, goddamned, stupid as hell idiots.”
Lester wagged a thick finger. “That will be enough of that kind of talk. I won’t have you insulting us.”
“Then listen to me, damn it,” Fargo said in baffled outrage. “I’ve done all I can and you ignore me.”
“Now, now,” Lester Winston said, as he might to Billy if his son were misbehaving. “We appreciate it. We truly do. But the best thing now is for all of us to relax and eat our breakfasts. You should do the same. A hot meal is always good for the disposition.”
Fargo gestured in disgust. “I wash my hands of the whole bunch of you. If you’re massacred, you have only yourself to blame.”
“We won’t be harmed,” Harvey confidently replied.
“We trust in providence, friend,” another said, and many of them bobbed their heads.
Fargo left them and went over to the Winstons’ wagon. He was so mad he smacked the side.
“Keep that up and you’ll hurt your hand.” Rachel, fully dressed, her hair in a bonnet, was next to him. “What’s gotten into you?”
Fargo related his attempt to convince her father and the other men to take up arms. He clutched her. “You must talk to them. Persuade them to get ready for Gore. It’s their only hope.”
“I trust my pa to do what’s best.”
“But he has wax in his ears.”
Just then Martha announced that the coffee was ready. He went to the fire. “What about you, Mrs. Winston? You must have heard me talking to your husband.”
“About Victor Gore? Yes.”
“Then do something. Get the men to take up arms, and have the women and the children take cover.”
“And then what?” Martha asked. “Blast Mr. Gore and Mr. Rinson to kingdom come as they ride up?”
“If you want to go on breathing.”
Martha shook the large wooden spoon she had been using to stir oatmeal. “Shame on you. You’ve lived on the frontier too long. You hold human life much too cheaply.”
“Don’t you care if you live or die?”
“Of course,” Martha replied. “But I didn’t agree with them and I don’t agree with you. We’re not beasts. Scripture says we’re made in His image. ‘Thou shalt not kill’ comes straight from His mouth.”
“Gore doesn’t share your sentiments. All he cares about is the gold and getting it back East.” Fargo stopped. “Wait. What was that about agreeing?”
“I’m against taking human life. A white life, at any rate.”
“Indians don’t count, huh?”
“They don’t believe in the one true God. They don’t live by the Ten Commandments. I doubt they even have souls. Killing a red savage is the same as killing a fish or a squirrel.”
Fargo never did like those who wore their bigotry on their sleeve. Or in this case, on their dress. “You make me sorry I’m trying to help.”
Martha dipped the spoon in the pot. “The Lord works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. When you do, don’t hold it against me.”
“I don’t have the slightest notion what in hell you’re talking about,” Fargo informed her. He thought she would explain but she went on moving the spoon in small circles.
The next moment Billy came up, gave him a peculiar look, and snickered. “I heard what you just told my ma. You sure are dumb, mister.”
“William!” Martha turned. “None of that, you hear? He’s not like we are. He doesn’t realize how hard this is for us.”
“It’s not hard for me,” the boy said.
