Betrayal of the Mountain Man Read online

  When the gallop was over, Cal brought his reluctant horse back to the task at hand, bending over from the saddle to retrieve the can he had dropped.

  Finally, when the pile of dead cows had been sufficiently dosed with kerosene, Pearlie lit a match and dropped it onto one of the animals. The match caught, and within a few minutes, large flames were leaping up from the pile.

  Pearlie and Cal rode back to where Smoke was, then reined up alongside him and turned to watch the fire.

  “It’s like a barbeque,” Cal said.

  “If it is, it’s the most expensive barbeque you’ll ever see,” Pearlie said.

  “Yeah,” Smoke said, answering in one, clipped word.

  “Sally,” Smoke said that night as they lay in bed. There was agony in the sound of his voice.

  “Yes?”

  “I had to let all the men go today.”

  “I figured as much. I saw them all riding off.”

  “I even let Pearlie and Cal go.”

  “Oh,” Sally said.

  “Don’t worry. They aren’t going anywhere. I explained that I cannot pay them, but they said they would stay anyway.”

  “Yes,” Sally said. “I figured they would.”

  “We can’t do it,” Smoke said. He sighed. “We lost too many head. Even if we sold every cow we have left, we wouldn’t make enough money to pay off the note on the ranch.”

  “Oh, Smoke,” Sally said, putting her head on his shoulder.

  “I’ve let you down,” Smoke said. “I’ve failed you.”

  “No, you haven’t let me down, and you haven’t failed. You had no control over the weather.”

  “That’s true, I had no control over the weather,” Smoke said. “But if I hadn’t borrowed so much money against the ranch, we could have ridden out this winter. Now, we’re going to lose Sugarloaf. And I know how much you love this place.”

  “Oh, you silly darling,” Sally said. “I do love this place, but don’t you know that I love you much more? In fact, I love this place because of you. And no matter where we go, or what we have to do, it will be fine as long as we are together.”

  “Yeah,” Smoke said. He tightened his arm around her. “That’s good to know, but it doesn’t make me any less a failure.”

  They lay in silence for a moment longer before Sally spoke again.

  “We don’t have to lose this place,” she said.

  “You have an idea as to how to save it?”

  “Yes. Don’t you remember? I told you about it last winter.”

  “You’re talking about leasing the ranch, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Smoke sighed. “I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to give up control of my own place.”

  “But it would only be temporary. You would give up control for one year. Surely that would be better than losing the ranch, and giving up control forever?” Sally insisted.

  Smoke didn’t answer for a moment, and Sally thought about pressing her case, but she held back. She had lived with Smoke long enough to know that he was thinking it through.

  “All right,” he finally said. “Suppose I decide to do this, what would be the first step?”

  “There is a land broker’s office in Denver,” Sally said. “I saved the address. We can go there and talk to him.”

  “No, you stay here with the ranch,” Smoke said. “It’s ours for thirty more days. I wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea that we were abandoning it, and someone might think that is exactly what is happening if we both leave.”

  “All right, I’ll stay.”

  “Besides, if we do lease the ranch, I expect the tenants will want to live in this house. So you, Pearlie, and Cal need to find someplace for us to go. The line shack over on Big Sandy might work. It’s the biggest of all of them.”

  “We’ll get it in shape while you’re gone,” Sally said.

  “I hate having to ask you to live in such a place.”

  “It will be fine, Smoke, you’ll see,” Sally said. “I’ll have it looking really nice by the time we move in. And it’s only a year; then we’ll be back in our own house.”

  “The Lord willing,” Smoke said.

  “Smoke, when you make the deal, don’t forget that you must get the money in advance, in order to be able to pay the note.”

  “I know,” Smoke said. “Don’t worry, I will.”

  “It’s going to be all right, Smoke,” Sally said. “I know it will.”

  “Pearlie?”

  Cal got no response.

  “Pearlie?” he called again.

  Although the bunkhouse had beds enough for twelve cowboys, Cal and Pearlie were the only two occupants at the present time.

  Cal sat up in the darkness. He couldn’t see Pearlie, but he could hear him snoring.

  “Pearlie!” he said again.

  “What?” Pearlie answered, sitting up quickly. “What’s happening?”

  “Are you asleep?” Cal asked.

  Pearlie let out an audible sigh, then fell back in his bed.

  “Well, I was asleep,” Pearlie said.

  “Oh. Well, then, I won’t bother you.”

  Pearlie got out of his bunk, then walked over to Cal’s bunk. He jerked all the covers off Cal.

  “Hey, what did you do that for?” Cal shouted, reaching for the covers that Pearlie was holding away from him. “Give me my covers.”

  Pearlie handed him his covers, then sat back down on his bunk. “I’m listening now,” he said. “So tell me what was so important that you had to wake me up.” Pearlie ran his hand over the puff of purple flesh that was on his chest, the result of a bullet wound.

  “We was goin’ to bury you under the aspen trees,” Cal said.

  “What?”

  “Last year, when we was down to the Santa Gertrudis Ranch, helpin’ out Captain King, you got shot, remember?”

  Pearlie laughed. “Well, Cal, that ain’t somethin’ that you just forget all that easy.”

  “Anyway, we didn’t figure you’d live until we got you home, so we was already plannin’ your funeral. We decided to, that is, Miss Sally decided to bury you under the aspen trees. That would’a been a real pretty spot too.”

  “Sorry it didn’t work out for you,” Pearlie said, teasing. “Cal, please tell me you didn’t wake me up just to tell me where you had planned to bury me.”

  “Miss Sally planned.”

  “All right, Miss Sally planned. Is that why you woke me up?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “I’m worried,” Cal said. “What if Smoke can’t get the money? I mean, he’s got to come up with all that money in less than a month. I can’t see no way he’s goin’ to be able to do that.”

  “He’s been in some tough spots before,” Pearlie said. “I reckon it’ll work out all right.”

  “What if he don’t?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if he don’t get the money? Then he’ll lose the ranch. And if he does, then where will we go? What will become of us?”

  “Cal, are you worried about Smoke? Or are you worried about us?” Pearlie asked.

  Cal ran his hand through his hair. “I guess I’m worried about both,” he said.

  “Well, at least you are honest about it,” Pearlie said. “Truth is, I don’t know what will become of us.”

  “You know what I think? I think we ought to leave,” Cal said.

  “Leave? You mean run out on Smoke and Miss Sally?”

  “No, not run out on them,” Cal said. “Just leave, so they don’t have us to have to feed and worry about.”

  “Yeah,” Pearlie said. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

  “I think we ought to go now,” Cal said.

  “You mean just leave, without so much as a fare-thee-well?”

  “Yes,” Cal said. “Think about it, Pearlie. If we stick around long enough to tell them good-bye, you know what they are going to do. They are going to try and talk us in
to stayin’ on.”

  “Maybe they need us to stay on.”

  Cal shook his head. “No, right now, we’re a burden to ’em. I know how it is, Pearlie. I was on my own when I was twelve ’cause I didn’t have no family to speak of, and I didn’t want to be a burden to nobody.”

  “All right, we’ll go,” Pearlie said. “But I ain’t goin’ without leavin’ ’em a letter. There ain’t no way I’m goin’ to just run out on ’em. Not after all the things they have done for us.”’

  “I agree,” Cal said. “The least we can do is leave ’em a letter tellin’ ’em what happened to us.”

  Chapter Five

  “Smoke!”

  Smoke was in the bedroom, packing for his trip, but the anguish in Sally’s call to him caused him to drop the saddlebags on the bed and hurry to the kitchen. He saw her standing just inside the kitchen door, leaning against the counter. She was holding a letter in one hand, while her other hand was covering her mouth. Her eyes had welled with tears.

  “What is it?” Smoke asked. “What has happened?”

  “They are gone,” Sally said in a strained voice.

  “Who is gone? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s Pearlie and Cal,” she said. “When I went out to the bunkhouse to call them in for breakfast, they weren’t there, and all their stuff was gone. I found this lying on Pearlie’s bunk.” Sally handed Smoke a sheet of paper.

  Smoke read the letter.

  Dear Smoke and Miss Sally,

  By the time you get this letter, me and Cal will be gone. We figure, what with all the problems you’re havin’ with the ranch and all, that you don’t really need two more mouths to feed. And since you ain’t got no cows to speak of, why, there ain’t enough work to justify you keepin’ us on just so’s you can feed us.

  We are both grateful for all the good things you two has done for us, and for all the good times we’ve had together. I know you ain’t either one of you old enough to be our parents, but it’s almost like that’s just what you are, the way you have took care of us and looked out for us for all this time.

  I hope you can save the ranch somehow. We’ll be looking in now and again to see how it is that you are faring, and if we see that you got the ranch all put back together again, why, we’ll come back and work for you again. Fact is, if we can find work now, why, me and Cal has both said that we’ll be sending some money along to help you out.

  Your good friends,

  Pearlie and Cal

  “I can’t believe they would do something like that to us,” Smoke said.

  “Oh, Smoke, I don’t think they believe they are doing it to us. I think they believe they are doing it for us.”

  “Well, that’s just it. They didn’t think,” Smoke said. He sighed. “That means you are going to be here all alone while I’m gone. Will you be all right?”

  “Why, Kirby Jensen,” Sally said. “How dare you ask me such a question?”

  Smoke chuckled. “You’re right,” he said. “That was pretty stupid of me. I pity the poor fool who would try and break in here while I’m gone.”

  “Did you pack your white shirt and jacket? I think you should wear that when you talk to the broker.”

  “I packed it,” Smoke said. He put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s a long ride to Denver,” he said. “I’ll be gone for at least two weeks, maybe a little longer. I’ll send you a telegram when I get there, just to let you know that I arrived all right. Then I’ll send you another one when I get something worked out with the broker.”

  “I’ll miss you terribly, but I’ll be here when you get back,” Sally said. “I’ll spend the time while you are gone getting the line house ready for us. I intend to move some of my favorite pieces of furniture down there.”

  “How are you going to move them with Pearlie and Cal gone?”

  “I’ll go into town and ask Mr. Longmont to find someone to help me,” Sally said. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

  They kissed, and as the kiss deepened, Sally pulled away and looked up at him with a smile on her face.

  “What would it hurt if you left an hour later?” she asked.

  Smoke returned her smile. “Why, I don’t think it would hurt at all,” he said as he led her toward their bedroom.

  It was just after dark when Pearlie and Cal rode into Floravista, New Mexico Territory. From the small adobe houses on the outskirts of town, dim lights flickered through shuttered windows. The kitchens of the houses emitted enticing smells of suppers being cooked, from the familiar aromas of fried chicken to the more exotic and spicy bouquets of Mexican fare.

  A barking dog ended its yapping with a high-pitched yelp, as if it had been kicked, or hit by a thrown rock.

  A baby cried, its loud keening cutting through the night.

  A housewife raised her voice in one of the houses, launching into some private tirade about something, sharing her anger with all who were within earshot.

  The main part of Floravista was a contrast of dark and light. Commercial buildings such as stores and offices were closed and dark, but the saloons and cantinas were brightly lit and they splashed pools of light out onto the wood-plank sidewalks and on into the street. As Pearlie and Cal rode down the street, they passed in and out of those pools of light so that to anyone watching, they would be seen, then unseen, then seen again. The footfalls of their horses made a hollow clumping sound, echoing back from the false-fronted buildings as they passed them by.

  By the time they reached the center of town, the night was alive with a cacophony of sound: music from a tinny piano, a strumming guitar, and an out-of-tune vocalist, augmented by the high-pitched laughter of women and the deep guffaw of men. From somewhere in the Mexican part of town, a trumpet was playing.

  Pearlie and Cal dismounted in front of the Oasis Saloon, tied their horses to the hitching rail, then went inside. Dozens of lanterns scattered throughout the saloon emitted enough light to read by, though drifting clouds of tobacco smoke diffused the golden light.

  As they stood for a moment just inside the door, Cal happened to see a pickpocket relieve someone of his wallet. The thief’s victim was a middle-aged man who was leaning over the bar, drinking a beer and enjoying his conversation. While he was thus engaged, the nimble-fingered pickpocket deftly slipped the victim’s billfold from his back pocket. Instead of putting the billfold in his pocket, though, the thief walked down to the end of the bar and, casually, dropped it into a potted plant. Then the thief ordered a beer and stood there, drinking it casually.

  “Pearlie, did you see that?” Cal asked.

  “Yeah, I saw it,” Pearlie answered.

  “Maybe we should. . . .”

  “Wait,” Pearlie said. “Let’s see what happens.”

  The victim ordered a second beer, then reached for his pocket to get the money to pay. That’s when he realized that his billfold was gone.

  Puzzled by the absence of his billfold, the man looked on the floor to see if he had dropped it. Then he picked up his hat, which was lying on the bar, to see if it was there.

  “Hey,” the man called. “Has anybody seen my billfold?”

  “I know where it is,” Cal said.

  Cal and Pearlie were still standing in the middle of the floor, having just come in.

  “You know where my wallet is?” the man replied in disbelief.

  “Yes, sir, I know where it is.”

  “Well, where is it?”

  Cal pointed to the potted plant that sat on the floor at the end of the bar.

  “It’s down there under that plant” Cal said.

  The victim looked toward the plant; then he turned back toward Cal. “Now how in the hell would it wind up down there?” he asked. “I haven’t moved from this spot since I got here.”

  The pickpocket, suddenly sensing danger, put his beer down and started walking toward the door. As he did, Pearlie stepped in front of him to stop him.

  “Here, get out of my way,” the pickpocke
t growled. “What are you doing.”

  Cal pointed to the pickpocket Pearlie had stopped. “Your billfold is in that pot, because this fella put it there. Only, he didn’t put it there until after he took all the money from it and stuck it down into his own pocket.”

  “What?” the pickpocket said. “Mister, are you crazy? I just come in here to have a beer.”

  “And steal some money,” Pearlie added.

  By now the confrontation had stopped all conversation as everyone looked toward Pearlie, Cal, and the pickpocket.

  “I ain’t goin’ to stand around here and be accused of stealin’,” the pickpocket said. He pointed toward the bartender. “What kind of place are you running here anyway? Do you just let anyone accuse an innocent person of picking someone’s pocket?”

  The barkeep brought a double-barrel shotgun up from under the bar, and though he didn’t point it at anyone, its very presence lent some authority to his next comment.

  “Mr. Thornton, you want to step down there and look in the potted plant and see if your wallet is there?” the bartender asked.

  The men who were standing at the bar between Thornton and the potted plant stepped back to let him by. He walked to it, then looked down inside.

  “I’ll be damned!” he said. “He’s right! My wallet is here!” Thornton reached down into the pot, then came up with the wallet, holding it high for everyone in the saloon to see.

  There was an immediate reaction from all the other patrons.

  “Any son of a bitch who would steal another man’s wallet ought to be strung up,” someone said.

  “Or at least tarred and feathered,” another added.

  “I don’t know what you are talkin’ about,” the pickpocket said, his voice and expression showing his anxiousness. “I didn’t put that there.”

  “Is your money gone, Mr. Thornton?” Pearlie asked.

  Thornton opened his wallet and looked inside.

  “Yes!” he said. “Every dollar of it is gone.”

  Pearlie stuck his hand down into the pickpocket’s vest pocket and took out some folded bills. He handed the bills to the bartender.