A Frontier Christmas Read online

  Jesse considered that information. “How much are you willin’ to pay?”

  “One hunnert dollars.”

  “That ain’t much for goin’ after a man like Duff MacCallister,” T. Bob complained.

  “It is when you consider that I’ll let you keep your horses, and eat and stay here for free.”

  “What good is horses to a dead man? I’ve seen MacCallister shoot. No, sir, I intend to stay as far away from him as I can,” T. Bob said.

  “Do you think, for one moment, that MacCallister ain’t goin’ to be comin’ after you again?” Dingo asked. “You boys killed the son of the mayor of Chugwater. Not only the son, but his wife and children. MacCallister tracked you down once. He’ll do it again. Trust me, you are goin’ to have to deal with him one way or the other.”

  “He’s right, T. Bob,” Jacobs said. “He had a personal stake in what you men done, which is why he come after you in the first place. Soon as he learns you’ve escaped, he’s going to be comin’ after you again.”

  “With someone like that, two to one ain’t that good of odds.” Jesse looked at Jacobs. “Would you come with us?”

  Jacobs looked over at Dingo. “Make it a hunnert and fifty dollars. If you do, I’ll join ’em, and that’ll give us fifty dollars apiece.”

  Dingo combed his fingers through his beard, pulling out bits of food. He examined his fingertips for a moment, then flipped them away. “All right. I’ll go a hunnert ’n fifty.”

  Jacobs looked at the other two for a moment, seeking their approval. They nodded. “Okay. You’ve got a deal.”

  “You think you boys can do it?” Dingo asked. “Somebody like MacCallister takes a lot of killin”.”

  Jacobs removed the makings and rolled himself a cigarette. “That’s all right. Me an’ these two boys has done a lot of killin’.”

  “When will you do it?” Dingo asked.

  “Soon as we get the money.”

  Dingo shook his head back and forth a couple times. “You ain’t goin’ to get the money till the job is done.”

  Jacobs smiled. “Far as I’m concerned, you can figure he’s as good as dead right now.”

  “Good as, don’t mean he’s dead,” Dingo said.

  “He will be,” Jacobs promised.

  “Oh, and we ain’t got no money ’tall,” Jesse complained. “Like you said, we been eatin’ your food and drinkin’ on the tab here for a couple days. If we leave here to try ’n pull a job, or go take care of MacCallister, it’s goin’ to be damn hard, seein’ as we ain’t got so much as a penny to our name.”

  “I tell you what. I’ll give twenty-five dollars apiece, now. That should hold you over until you can find a job to do. There’s money to be made if you’ll just do it.”

  “But one-third of whatever we steal goes to you, right?”

  Dingo smiled. “Yes, but look at it this way. Two-thirds of the money goes to you.”

  “He’s right, Jesse. If two-thirds of the money goes to us, that’s more ’n we got now,” Jacobs explained.

  “All right,” Jesse agreed. “Let’s go find some money.”

  Sky Meadow Ranch

  Duff, Smoke, Sally, and Matt were having breakfast at the kitchen table.

  “Matt, what in the world is that you are eating?” Duff asked as he spread jam onto his toast.

  “Gravy and biscuits,” Matt replied. “Don’t tell you’ve never eaten it.”

  “I have never eaten such a concoction, and it looks awful. I’m amazed that Mrs. Sterling even knows how to prepare . . . gravy.”

  “I guess I’m guilty of that,” Sally said. “I asked Mrs. Sterling if she would mind if I fixed breakfast, and she graciously consented to letting me share the kitchen with her this morning.”

  Duff shuddered. “I hope you dinnae try to teach her how to make it.”

  Sally laughed. “I didn’t.”

  “Duff, Sally came up with what I think is a pretty good idea this morning,” Smoke said.

  “What’s the idea?”

  Smoke grinned at his wife. “I’ll let her tell you.”

  She jumped right in. “I’d like to go to Rawhide Buttes. I can help Meagan and her friend get her store ready, and we can be back in Chugwater in plenty of time for Christmas.”

  “And Matt and I would like to go, too,” Smoke said. “Matt has been there before, but I’ve never seen the place. It’s always fun to go to someplace new.”

  Duff laughed. “You do know that Rawhide Buttes is nothing like Denver. It isn’t even like Chugwater. ’Tis a small place.”

  “Does it have a hotel and a place to eat?” Smoke questioned.

  “Aye, that it does. And even a couple acceptable pubs.”

  Smoke grinned. “Then it’s worth seeing. What do you say? Would you like to go up with us?”

  “You go on, and tell Meagan I’ll be along soon. I’ve a few more things to take of here before I can leave.”

  “Is it something Matt and I could help you with? If so, we could stay and go when you do.”

  Duff shook his head. “No, you go on. I’ll have Mrs. Sterling pack a lunch for you to have along the way.”

  “Great!” Smoke said.

  Sidewinder Gorge

  “I’ve got me an idea how we can come up with a little money of our own,” Jacobs said.

  “When you say money of our own, does that mean that you got an idea that don’t have nothin’ to do with sharin’ ever’ dime we get with Dingo?” Jesse asked.

  “We’ll have to give him some money, but he don’t need to know how much we got in the first place.”

  “Yeah,” Jesse said. “Yeah, that might work. What’s your idea?”

  “A bank over in Sweetwater.”

  “Sweetwater? Jesse nodded. “Yeah, I know Sweetwater. I ain’t never been there, but I’ve heard of it.”

  “I been there. It’s a little flyspeck of a town,” Jacobs offered. “They ain’t got no law ’cept for a sheriff who’s so old he can’t barely get around. That bank’s just beggin’ to be robbed.”

  “How big is the town?” Jesse asked.

  “I don’t know. A hunnert fifty, maybe two hunnert people.”

  Jesse frowned. “That’s all? How much money you reckon could be in that bank?”

  “I doubt there’s over four or five hunnert dollars in the bank. But that’s the beauty of it, don’t you see? If there ain’t a whole lot of money in the bank, then they’re not goin’ to be expectin’ anyone to rob it. Hell, they’ll prob’ly pee in their pants when we go in. It’ll be like takin’ candy from a baby.”

  T. Bob had been idling nearby, listening to their conversation. “Yeah, but if they don’t have no more ’n five hunnert dollars, is it worth it?”

  “Let’s see now. If I’m doin’ my cipherin’ right, five hunnert dollars split three ways would be a little over a hunnert ’n fifty dollars apiece. And you’ve got how much money, now? Twenty-five?”

  Jesse laughed. “Looks to me like he’s got you there, little brother. All right, Wally, let’s go rob us a bank.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Sweetwater, Wyoming

  The town was small, just as Wally had said, but the board sidewalks were full of men and women, farmers and ranchers, looking in the windows of the shops, hurrying to and fro.

  “What the hell?” Jesse was not happy. “I thought you said they wasn’t no more ’n a couple hunnert people here. There’s that many out on the street.”

  “Must be because of Christmas,” Jacobs said. “Anyhow, there ain’t hardly none of ’em wearin’ guns, so they ain’t nothin’ to worry about. Let’s do it and be done.”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Jesse said, holding up his hand. “Let’s not be in such a hurry. What do you say we ride up ’n down the street once just to have us a good look-see?”

  “Yeah, that’s probably a pretty good idea,” Jacobs agreed.

  “T. Bob, you take the left side. Count everybody you see carryin’ a gun. Wally, you ch
eck the folks that’s mounted. I’ll take the right.”

  The three men rode slowly down the entire length of the town, then they turned their horses and rode back.

  “I didn’t see nobody that was armed,” T. Bob said.

  “I seen only one on my side, but I’d be willin’ to bet he ain’t never fired it at nothin’ more dangerous than a tin can,” Jesse said.

  Jacobs smiled. “Well then, what do you say we make us a little withdrawal? T. Bob, you stay outside with the horses.”

  They rode to the bank and dismounted. T. Bob held the reins of all three horses with his left hand, while in his right he held his pistol, though he kept it low and out of sight.

  As soon as Jacobs and Jesse were inside, they pulled their pistols.

  “All right, people. I don’t reckon I have to tell you what this is,” Jacobs shouted, waving his gun around.

  “God in heaven! It’s a holdup!” someone cried.

  “Nah, we’re just collecting for Christmas,” Jesse said. “You, teller. Empty out your bank drawer and put all the money in a bag!”

  Nervously, the teller began to comply, emptying his drawer in just a few seconds. He handed the bag to Jacobs, who’d kept his gun pointed on him.

  “Damn. Lookie here!” Jacobs held the bag high. “Whoowee! There’s two, maybe three thousand dollars here.”

  “Let’s take it and be gone!” Jesse shouted.

  “You’ll take nothin’!” a customer suddenly shouted.

  Jacobs swung his gun toward the customer, who was also armed. The customer fired first, but missed. The outlaw returned fire and didn’t miss. Jesse fired toward the teller’s window, and his bullet shattered the shaded glass around the teller cages. Another customer in the bank fired and Jesse returned fire, killing him.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here!” Jacobs shouted.

  The townspeople outside the bank heard the shots and realized at once what was going on.

  “The bank!” someone shouted. “They’re robbin’ the bank!”

  “Jesse, Wally!” T. Bob shouted. “Get out of there! Fast!”

  One of the armed townspeople ran toward the bank with his pistol drawn. T. Bob shot him. Seeing one of their own shot down, the townspeople began screaming and running for cover.

  Clutching the canvas bag in his left hand, Jacobs backed out through the door. Jesse followed, firing back into the bank. T. Bob, who was already mounted, passed the reins over to them.

  “Let’s get out of here!” he shouted to the other two.

  Across the street, a young store clerk, no more than a boy, came running out of the store wearing his apron and carrying a broom in one hand and a rifle in the other. He dropped the broom, raised the rifle, and fired at the three robbers. His bullet hit Jacobs in the head, killing him instantly. He fell from the horse with the money sack still in his hand.

  “They got Wally!” T. Bob shouted, throwing his leg over to dismount.

  “What are you doing? Keep going!” Jesse yelled.

  “But the money!”

  “To hell with the money!” Jesse’s voice was pitched high in fright.

  “We can’t just leave it!”

  “You stay if you want. I’m gettin’ the hell out of here!”

  Seeing that Jesse didn’t intend to stop, T. Bob remained mounted, and the two brothers started away from the bank at a gallop.

  Several others were armed, and bullets began flying. One of the bullets killed Jesse’s horse. Even as he was going down, Jesse leaped from the saddle and ran toward the nearest hitch rail. Spooked by the gunfire, several horses tied there reared and pulled against their restraints. Jesse untied the closest horse and jumped on, then galloped down the street after T. Bob, who hadn’t stopped to wait for him.

  By the time the sheriff got the townspeople organized and mounted, the bank robbers had opened up a lead of two miles. The pursuit was ineffective at best, and after a fruitless gallop of no more than fifteen minutes, the posse decided that since the would-be robbers had not gotten away with the money, they would do better to go back to town to bury the dead.

  Sidewinder Gorge

  Tim Adler walked into the main house, pushing Bad Eye Sal in front of him. “Look who I found trying to leave.”

  Dingo, who had been drinking a beer, put down his glass and looked at Bad Eye Sal with an evil smile on his face. “I thought we had talked about this.”

  “Max, please, let me go. You’ve got no right to keep me here if I don’t want to stay.”

  Dingo stepped up to her and, with a vicious backhand, knocked her to the floor. “Get back into your room. I’ll deal with you later. If you try and leave again, I’ll kill you.”

  “Ha!” Adler said. “She tried to tell me she was goin’ to town to get somethin’ for you, but I know’d she was lyin’.”

  “Thanks for bringing her back,” Dingo said as he picked up his beer.

  “Listen, I heard you was goin’ to give Jacobs ’n them Cave brothers fifty dollars apiece if they can kill MacCallister. Is that true?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They ain’t goin’ to get the job done.”

  Dingo took a swallow of his beer, then studied Adler over the rim of the glass. “Why do you say that?”

  “MacCallister is too good for them.”

  “There’s three of them, only one of MacCallister.”

  “From what I heard they was three to one before, too. Only MacCallister kilt one of ’em, and brung the other two in. I’m tellin’ you, they ain’t goin’ to get the job done for you.”

  “Are you goin’ to tell me that you can?”

  “Me, Jed Depro, Aaron Pollard, and Merlin Morris can. That is, if you’ll give us the same amount of money you’re givin’ them.”

  Dingo raised an eyebrow. “A hundred and fifty dollars?”

  “They’s four of us,” Adler said.

  “So?”

  “You’re givin’ them fifty dollars apiece. That’s what we want.”

  “What makes you think you can do it, if they can’t?”

  “We can do it ’cause we’re smarter. And that’s what it’s goin’ to take. It’s goin’ to take someone who is smart.”

  Dingo nodded. “All right. I’ll give you fifty dollars apiece if you kill MacCallister.”

  Adler smiled. “You got yourself a deal!”

  “You don’t get the money until after the job is done,” Dingo said.

  Adler ran his hand across the short, black stubbles on his cheek. “All right,” he said after a moment’s pause. “All right. We’ll do it.”

  “I ain’t never seen this here MacCallister feller. What does he look like?” Pollard asked when Adler told the others about the deal he had made.

  “I don’t know. I ain’t never seen ’im neither,” Adler replied.

  “Well, if there ain’t none of us what’s ever seen ’im, how are we goin’ to find ’im?”

  “They say he’s a big ’un, ’n from what I’ve heard about ’im, he spends some time in Chugwater. So that’s where we’ll be headed,” Adler replied.

  “Chugwater? I been there a couple of times,” Depro said. “That’s near a day’s ride from here.”

  “We’ll start out first thing in the mornin’,” Adler suggested.

  “They got a saloon there, do they?” Morris asked.

  Adler frowned. “You ever been anywhere, where there ain’t no saloon?”

  “No.”

  “Then it’s more ’n likely they got one in Chugwater.”

  “They do have one there,” Depro said.

  “Then that’s where we’ll start.”

  “What about Wally ’n them two brothers? If they get there first, they’ll be the ones gettin’ the money.”

  Adler smiled. “More ’n likely they’ll be lookin’ for some store or somethin’ somewhere to get a little money before they start lookin’ for MacCallister. But it don’t matter none if they do get there first.”

  “What do you mean,
it don’t matter? What if they kill him before we do?” Morris asked.

  “Like I said, it don’t matter none. If they kill ’im first, all it means is that they’ll be doin’ the job for us. But they won’t be gettin’ no money.”

  “Are you sayin’ you don’t think Dingo will actually pay once MacCallister is kilt?” Depro asked.

  “Oh yeah, he’ll pay all right. He just won’t pay them, ’cause they’ll be dead,” Adler replied with a broad smile.

  Dingo stepped outside the house to meet Jesse and T. Bob as they rode up. “Where’s Wally?” he asked as the two men dismounted.

  “He’s dead.”

  “Dead? What happened?”

  “He was kilt while we was robbin’ a bank over in Sweetwater,” T. Bob said.

  Dingo smiled. “You robbed a bank, did you? Well, that’s just real good of you boys. How much money did you get?” He showed absolutely no concern over the news that Wally Jacobs, supposedly one of his friends, had just been killed.

  “We didn’t get none,” T. Bob said.

  “How can you rob a bank and not get no money?” Dingo asked.

  “We got money all right. We got what looked like a couple thousand,” Jesse explained. “Wally, he was carryin’ the money sack when we come out of the bank, and as we was ridin’ out of town, he got hisself shot in the head. He went down and the money sack went down with him.”

  “And you didn’t pick it up?”

  “They was more bullets flyin’ aroun’ than ants at a picnic,” Jesse said. “Believe me, that wasn’t no place to be. Me ’n T. Bob barely got out alive as it was.”

  “What happened to the horse Wally was mounted on?” Dingo asked quietly.

  “What happened to his horse? I don’t know. It run off, I suppose. Why do you care about his horse?”

  “It wasn’t his horse. It was mine, same as the horses you boys is ridin’. Seems to me like you boys didn’t do nothin’ but get a man kilt and a horse run off for nothin’.”

  “We got a horse kilt, too,” T. Bob said. “The horse Jesse was ridin’ got shot from underneath ’im just as we was ridin’ out.”