A Big Sky Christmas (13 page)

He left the wagon camp and headed back to the hotel where the gang was staying, which was seedier than the one being used by the troupe of performers. Swint might be there, or he might be at the Bella Royale. Bodie thought the odds were good that he would find the gang leader at one place or the other.

On the second floor of the hotel, he found Clete Mahaffey and Dave Pearsoll sitting on ladder-back chairs in the hallway outside Swint's room. “I didn't know you fellas had first shift on guard duty tonight.”

“Yeah, that's us—just sittin' here while the rest of the boys are out havin' fun,” Mahaffey groused.

“You need something, Cantrell?” Pearsoll asked.

Bodie nodded. “I'm looking for the boss. Is he in his room?”

“Nah, we haven't seen Swint for a couple hours. Check the saloon.”

“That was going to be my next stop. Much obliged.”

“Wait a minute,” Mahaffey said. “Is something wrong, Cantrell?”

“No, not at all,” Bodie lied. “I just need to talk to him for a few minutes.”

Clearly, both men were curious what was going on, but they weren't going to poke their noses in another man's business. They just grunted as Bodie lifted a hand in farewell and headed back downstairs.

He should have asked them where Jake was, he thought as he left the hotel. Jake was the only member of the gang he considered a friend—one that he wanted to say good-bye to before pulling out with the wagon train.

He could find Jake later, he decided. It was more important to settle things with Swint.

The hour was getting really late, but the Bella Royale was still busy. Bodie entered the saloon but didn't see Swint anywhere, so he went to the bar and asked the bartender if he'd seen the boss outlaw.

The apron nodded toward a closed door. “There's a poker game going on in that private room back there. Swint and some of his boys are sitting in on it. Say, aren't you one of his bunch?”

“I was,” Bodie said. All that had changed tonight.

He hadn't known it at the time, but it had changed the moment he first laid eyes on Savannah McCoy.

With that thought in mind, Bodie went to the door and knocked on it. A voice he didn't recognize told him to come in.

When he stepped into the room he saw that it was windowless and dark except for a lamp that cast a cone of light over a round table topped with green baize, the cards and money scattered on it, and to a lesser extent, the men who sat around it. Swint sat on the far side of the table, facing the door.

That came as no surprise to Bodie; Swint wouldn't want anybody coming in behind him where he couldn't see them. That was just common sense for someone with a lot of enemies and a price on his head.

To Swint's right was a frock-coated man Bodie didn't know, probably a professional gambler. To the gambler's right was another man Bodie didn't know who had the well-fed look of a successful businessman. The other three men at the table were members of the gang: Charley Green, who was usually Swint's second in command when the gang pulled a job, a gunman from Arizona named Jack Perkins, and Joe Guerra, a 'breed from the border country down in Texas.

It appeared that a hand had just concluded and the frock-coated gambler had won. He finished pulling in the pot, then glanced up at Bodie. “We don't have a chair open right now, but you're welcome to stay and watch in case one of these gents drops out.”

“I'm not goin' anywhere,” Swint said irritably. “Not until I've had a chance to win back that money I lost.”

The gambler took a slender black cigarillo from his vest pocket, put it between his lips, left it unlit, and rolled it from one side of his mouth to the other. “That's the sort of talk I like to hear. It shows you're passionate about the game, my friend . . . and it tells me I'm going to have a chance to take even more of your money.”

Swint scowled, and Bodie thought that the gambler didn't really know what sort of loco hombre he was dealing with. Swint was quick to take offense, quick to reach for the gun on his hip.

The boss outlaw's reaction lasted only for a second before he controlled it and forced a grin. “You just go ahead and think that way, amigo. We'll see who's rakin' in the pot next time.” He glanced up at Bodie. “Did you want somethin', Cantrell, or do you plan to just stand there?”

“I need to talk to you for a minute,” Bodie said. “In private.”

Swint's scowl came back. “You got somethin' you can't say in front of these fellas? I'm not sure I like the sound of that.”

“It's just business, that's all.”

Swint drummed the fingers of his left hand on the table. “My luck's due to change. I can feel it in my bones. If I sit out this next hand, that luck's liable to pass right over me.”

“Why don't we take a short break?” the gambler suggested. “That way you can talk to your friend, I'll go get another bottle from Horace, and we can all stretch our legs.”

“All right,” Swint said as he scraped back his chair. “But don't start again without me, you hear? Cantrell, this isn't gonna take very long, is it?”

“It shouldn't,” Bodie said. Just long enough for you to go upstairs, get the money that you owe me, and hand it over, he thought.

Swint stood up. “Come on. We'll step out into the alley.”

They left the private room and went out through a side door into the narrow passage between the Bella Royale and the building next to it. Swint left the door open so that a rectangle of light slanted through it and the glow lit up most of the alley.

“All right,” Swint said. “What is it you want?”

“My share of the money,” Bodie replied bluntly.

Swint's scowl got even more fierce. “You know we'll divvy up that loot when the time is right. And I'm the one who decides when that is, Cantrell, not you.”

“I'm not saying you have to divvy up with everybody.”

“That wouldn't be fair to the others. What makes you so dang special, anyway?”

“I'm leaving the gang,” Bodie said.

Swint stared at him for a second as if he couldn't comprehend what Bodie had just said. Finally he repeated, “Leaving the gang?”

“That's right.”

Swint's eyes narrowed, and his face began to flush with anger. “What's the matter, we ain't good enough for you anymore? You gonna go out and start your own gang, show ol' Eldon what it's like to be a famous owlhoot?”

“It's not like that.” It wasn't going as smoothly as Bodie had hoped, but to tell the truth he hadn't really expected Swint to take the news very well. “In fact, I plan to give up being an outlaw altogether.”

“So you really do think you're too good for the likes of us. But when it comes to the money the rest of us took off that train, you ain't so high and mighty that you'll turn your back on it, are you? You're just as greedy as the rest of us where that loot's concerned.”

Bodie felt a flash of anger of his own. “Listen here, I did everything you told me to do during that holdup. If there had been trouble, my neck would have been on the line just like yours. So I think I've got a right to my share.”

Swint hooked his thumbs in his gun belt and sneered. “Only members of the gang get shares. You walk away now and you won't have a damn dime comin' to you.”

“Now hold on! You never said anything about that before.”

“Never figured I'd have to explain it. It's just common sense.”

Actually, it was a chance for Swint to get his hands on an extra share, Bodie realized . . . assuming that the leader of the gang didn't mean to hang on to
all
the loot. Chances were, Swint didn't really care whether Bodie stayed or went. He had never been any great shakes as an outlaw. Swint could replace him with any of a hundred drifting hardcases.

Swint had his pride, though, and he felt insulted. For that reason alone, he was willing to make it an issue.

Both men stood tensely in the mixture of dim light and shadows in the alley. It was bright enough for Bodie to see the anticipation of violence in Swint's stance. He knew that if he made even the slightest move toward his gun, Swint would slap leather, too. The killing lust burned in the man's eyes.

Suddenly, Bodie felt sick. His guts clenched. But it wasn't from fear. He and Swint were pretty evenly matched when it came to gun speed, he thought.

What gripped him was revulsion. He was ready to kill or be killed over money stained with the blood of that murdered station agent. The whole thing was loco.

Besides, Savannah McCoy needed his help to stay safe. Sure, if he got himself killed over a pile of ill-gotten loot, Jamie MacCallister, Captain Hendricks, and Moses Danzig would still do their best to look after her. Bodie had a feeling that Jamie would be more than a match for any threat the wagon train might run up against.

But even so, there might come a time when he was all that stood between Savannah and disaster, like when Kane's men had tried to grab her earlier. He couldn't afford to run the risk of not being there.

He drew in a deep breath. “You know what, Eldon? Keep my share. I don't care.”

Swint's eyes narrowed with suspicion. Obviously he couldn't comprehend such a decision. “Is this some sort of trick?”

Bodie shook his head. “No trick. There are other things I need to do, and they're more important than any stack of gold eagles. You keep my share and divide it up among the other men. Or just keep it for yourself. It doesn't matter to me either way, as long as you're all right with letting me walk away from the gang.”

“I don't give a damn whether you're in the gang or not,” Swint snapped, confirming what Bodie had thought a few moments earlier. “I still think you're tryin' to put somethin' over on me, though.”

“I'm not. I give you my word.” Bodie stuck out his hand. “I'll even shake on it.”

Swint hesitated, but finally he clasped Bodie's hand. “What is it you've got to do?”

Bodie opened his mouth to explain about Savannah, Gideon Kane, and the wagon train, then thought better of it. Swint didn't have any reason to know about any of that. “Just some personal business to take care of.”

“Fine. It ain't like I care. You remember one thing, though, Cantrell. You walk away from me, and we're done. We ain't partners no more, and if you ever cross me in the future, I'll kill you just as quick as I would a total stranger.”

Bodie wouldn't have expected anything less from the man. He didn't see any reason his trail ought to cross that of Eldon Swint any time in the future, though. It would be perfectly fine with him if he never saw the lantern-jawed outlaw again. “I understand. You won't have any trouble from me, Eldon.”

Swint snorted contemptuously. “I'd better not, or you'll wind up filled full of lead, you got that?”

Bodie thought back and realized that he had never seen Swint engage in an actual gunfight. The outlaw had killed several men, but always from ambush or when he already had the drop on them. Maybe Swint wasn't quite the deadly pistoleer he always bragged about being.

None of that mattered, Bodie told himself. He was going with Savannah, and he would never see Swint again.

“You know where Three-Finger Jake is?” he murmured. He still hadn't given up on the idea of saying good-bye to his friend.

“I ain't got the slightest idea. It's not my job to keep up with the whereabouts of a bunch of no-account road agents when they're not pullin' a job for me.”

“All right. If you see him—” Bodie stopped and shook his head. He didn't want to tell Swint that he was going to be traveling with the wagon train. Even though it was unlikely, that might somehow put Kane on Savannah's trail. Bodie wasn't going to take the chance.

“So long, Eldon. That's all.”

“You're loco, you know that?” Swint growled as Bodie turned away. “Givin' up that loot just don't make sense.”

“It does if maybe you've found something more valuable,” Bodie said, thinking about Savannah McCoy.

Jamie was up long before dawn the next morning, making sure people were awake and getting ready to depart from Kansas City. He had said that he meant for the wagons to roll at first light, and he meant it. As far as he was concerned, the eastern sky barely had to turn gray for it to count as first light.

As he was making the rounds of the camp, he came up to one of the cook fires and found Moses Danzig and Bodie Cantrell hunkered beside the flames, sipping coffee from tin cups. The pot was sitting at the edge of the fire, keeping warm.

“Some coffee, Mr. MacCallister?” Moses asked.

“Don't mind if I do,” Jamie said. He'd already had a cup with Captain Hendricks, but a man couldn't have too much coffee when he planned to spend a long, long day in the saddle.

Moses went to his nearby wagon and brought another cup, filled it from the pot, and handed it to Jamie.

He sipped gratefully at the strong black brew. “Did you get your business taken care of last night, Cantrell?”

“Yes, sir, I did,” the young man replied.

Jamie nodded. “Glad to hear it.” He didn't press for any more information. He felt an instinctive liking for Bodie Cantrell, but the young man's affairs were his own and Jamie didn't intend to interfere in them. “Seen Miss McCoy this morning?”

Bodie shook his head. “No, but I'm sure she's fine with the Binghams. I wouldn't want to intrude on her.”

“Moses, you mind going and checking on her? I want to make sure she didn't change her mind about going with us.”

“Sure,” Moses said with a shrug. He ambled off toward the Bingham wagon.

Bodie said, “I don't think Miss Savannah would just up and run off.”

“She was pretty scared last night,” Jamie pointed out. “It's hard to tell what somebody will do if they get spooked bad enough. I've seen animals bolt right into danger instead of away from it, all because they were too scared to think straight.”

Bodie looked worried. He drained the last of his coffee from the cup and rose from his position beside the fire. “Reckon I'll go make sure, too—”

“I told Moses to do that,” Jamie cut in. “What you need to do is make sure your horse is ready to ride. We've got to get moving soon, or the day's going to be half gone.”

Bodie squinted and frowned at the eastern sky, which was still almost pitch black with plenty of stars showing. He figured Jamie was a little loco, and a bit of a slave driver, to boot.

But like the others in the group, he didn't fully grasp what a difficult undertaking it would be to get the wagons to Eagle Valley in Montana Territory before winter closed in around them and stranded them. Jamie would have to use every available minute of every day to accomplish that goal, and it was going to be hard on everybody, human and livestock alike. They might as well get used to that, right from the start.

Bodie went to see to his horse, as Jamie had suggested, and the big frontiersman continued making sure that everything was ready for the journey. Any time he found immigrants who weren't preparing fast enough, he prodded them into hurrying without being overly harsh about it. He was prepared to lay down the law to them if he had to, the law of the trail according to Jamie Ian MacCallister, but they seemed a fairly well disciplined bunch, so he didn't want to do that . . . yet.

Once they got started to Montana it might be a different story.

Not everyone was completely cooperative. When he got to the Bradford wagon, he found the twins, Alexander and Abigail, struggling to get the team of oxen hitched to the vehicle. The huge, stolid beasts dwarfed the children and paid little attention to their efforts to get them into the traces.

“Where's your pa?” Jamie asked the youngsters. “He should be doing this.”

“He's in the wagon reading the Bible,” Alexander said.

“Pa always reads some in the Good Book every morning and every night,” Abigail added.

Jamie scowled. Being spiritual was all well and good, but there was a time for that and a time to get earthly work done, he thought. After all, the book said that the Lord helped those who helped themselves.

He stepped to the back of the wagon and saw that a candle was burning inside. “Reverend Bradford?”

“What is it?” Bradford answered without lifting the canvas flap over the opening at the rear of the wagon. He sounded clearly annoyed.

“We'll be rolling soon. You need to get your team hitched up. Those kids can't do it by themselves.” And even if they could, they shouldn't have to, Jamie thought.

Bradford pushed the canvas aside and glared out, looking as irritated as he'd sounded. “The needs of a man's immortal soul won't wait, Mr. MacCallister. These wagons will.”

“That's where you're wrong,” Jamie said, making his voice as hard as flint. “If you're not ready to go when the rest of us are, we'll leave you here. Whether or not you catch up is up to you.”

“You'd abandon us here?” Bradford demanded in obvious outrage. “I won't hear of it. I paid my fee to join this wagon train, just like everyone else. I'll speak to Captain Hendricks about this high-handed behavior.”

“Go right ahead,” Jamie told him. “It won't change anything. I'm wagon master now, and we leave when I say we leave. It's your responsibility to be ready.” He didn't like speaking to Bradford this way in front of the man's children, but facts were facts and they needed to get on the trail.

“Very well,” Bradford said disgustedly. He set aside his big, leather-bound Bible, pushed the canvas flap back farther, and clambered out of the wagon. “But I still plan to speak to Captain Hendricks.”

“Go right ahead,” Jamie invited. It wouldn't make any difference, and he knew it.

He waited a moment to make sure Bradford was going to help the two youngsters hitch up the team. When he was satisfied about that, he moved on to the area where the saddle horses were picketed.

Bodie was there, tightening the cinches on his saddle. So were Hector Gilworth and his cousin Jess Neville, who were also getting their horses ready to ride.

“Did you fellas introduce yourselves to each other?” Jamie asked the scouts.

“Sure did,” Hector replied. “I'm glad you found somebody to help us with the scoutin', Jamie.”

“I'll try to live up to the responsibility,” Bodie said.

“Keep your eyes open and don't do anything foolish, and you'll be fine,” Jamie told him.

“Are you takin' the point today?” Hector asked.

Jamie nodded. “That's right. Bodie, you'll be with me. Hector and Jess, you fellas take the flanks.”

“Nobody bringing up the rear?” Bodie asked.

“Not today. Once we've gotten farther from town, one of us will drop back from time to time to check our back trail. I don't really expect much trouble from behind, though. It's what'll be in front of us that we'll have to worry about.”

“Meanin' Injuns?” Neville said.

“And outlaws and bad weather and flooded streams and buffalo stampedes and just about anything else you can think of,” Jamie said with a grin. “This isn't going to be an easy trip. If all four of us make it to Montana Territory alive, we'll be doing pretty good.” Of course, Bodie might not be going that far, he reminded himself.

That all depended on Savannah McCoy.