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  “Well,” Frank replied, “that was hung on me a long time ago, Danny. Long before it became known I have some money. Truth of the matter is, I just like to wander. I enjoy drifting. Me and Dog.”

  “How old is Dog, sir?” Susan asked.

  “He’s not very old. About three or four, I’d guess. He’s a loyal friend, though.”

  “What kind of dog is he?” Danny asked.

  “He’s just plain dog, Danny. A mixed breed.”

  Dog wandered over and lay down beside Frank. Frank put a big hand on Dog’s head. “He’s a lot of company on the trail.”

  “Beans are ready,” Julie said, smiling at the closeness between Frank and Dog. “Come and get it before I throw it away.”

  * * *

  “Well, roll me in buffler crap and call me stinky!” the old man hollered. “If it ain’t Frank Morgan in person. Light and sit, Drifter.”

  Frank dismounted and shook hands with the grizzled old man. “Dewey, you get uglier every time I see you.”

  “How long’s it been, Drifter, five, six years?”

  “At least that many.” Frank introduced everybody, and quickly explained what had happened.

  Dewey shook his head. “Pitiful, Drifter. The country’s goin’ to hell, for a fact. I know they’s a group of no-’counts camped over west of here, ’tween the Tonto and the Spring. But they fight shy of me. Injuns told me ’bout ’em.”

  “How many, Dewey?”

  “Pretty good-sized bunch, ’cordin’ to the Injuns. Three double hands.”

  “Thirty or so.”

  “Yep.”

  “Any women in the bunch?”

  “Injuns didn’t mention none.”

  “And they would have.”

  “I reckon so.”

  “Mr. Dewey?” Susan said.

  “Yes, child?”

  “Is there a place where my ma and me could take a hot bath?”

  “Shore is. It’s out back. I’ll stoke up the fire and get the water started heatin’ up. Be about a half hour or so.”

  “Wonderful,” Julie said with a sigh. “I have longed for a hot bath.”

  “Comin’ right up, missy. Come on, Drifter, make yourself useful. You can help me tote the firewood.”

  Danny saw to the horses, Julie and Susan rummaged through the packs looking for clean clothes, and Frank helped Dewey get the fire started to heat the water. The bathwater heating, Frank went inside the old trading post in search of a cup of coffee.

  “You’ve been here a long time, Dewey,” Frank remarked.

  “Damn near thirty years, Drifter.”

  “Just letting the world go by,” Frank said with a smile.

  Dewey cut his eyes to Frank. “Each of us, boy, in our own way.”

  “I reckon so,” Frank admitted.

  “Heard about you and your ex-wife gettin’ back together couple years past. Heard about her dyin’. Shame. You reckon she could have settled you down?”

  “I believe so. I like to think so.”

  “The Good Lord has a reason for ever’thin’ that happens, Drifter. I reckon He had a reason for that too.”

  Frank nodded his head. Thinking about Vivian wasn’t something he did very often. She was dead; no point in dwelling on that. “I reckon. You got anything good to eat around this place, Dewey?”

  “Always. But game’s been scarce the past few months.”

  “Tell me. I was going to kill a deer; had me a hankering for some back strap. Hell, I didn’t see a one.”

  “I got me a few head of cattle ’bout a mile east of here. Have me a few hogs for bacon. I like to take pork and venison and mix it up with some spices for my sausage.” He rolled his eyes. “That there is good eatin’, boy. Lip-smackin’ good.”

  “Got any left?”

  “In an ice cave not too far from here. I’ll ride over and fetch us some. Matter of fact, I think I’ll do that now. You keep an eye on the post for me.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  Dewey rode off on a mule to get the meat, and Frank walked inside for a drink. He wasn’t much of a drinking man, but he did enjoy a drink of whiskey occasionally. He took bottle and glass over to a table in a corner of the big room, which was filled with all sorts of merchandise a traveler might need, and sat down, pouring a drink. He rolled a smoke and relaxed, listening to the sound of the women in the back of the trading post as they filled up huge tubs with hot water. Danny came in and walked over.

  “The women told me to get lost,” the young man said. His eyes wide, he added. “Them ladies is gonna strip plumb nekkid!”

  Frank smiled. “Don’t you, when you take a bath?”

  “Well, sure. But . . . well . . . anyway, can I have me a drink of that whiskey? The thought of them women back yonder with no clothes on makes me all discombobulated.”

  “Help yourself. Glasses back of the bar.”

  Danny poured himself a shot glass of whiskey and sipped at it.

  “You and Susan been sorta making eyes at each other,” Frank said.

  Danny blushed. “I didn’t know it was that plain.”

  “Nothing wrong with it. You’re a boy and she’s a mighty pretty girl. Boys and girls been doing that for a long time.”

  “Me and her been talkin’ some too.”

  “Oh?”

  “Nothin’ serious, mind you. Just jawin’ is all.”

  “If you’ve a mind to tell me, I’m a good listener.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  “At the beginning, Danny.”

  The young man hesitated. “I reckon that would be when me and her first looked at each other.”

  “You kind of took a shine to each other right then, is that it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It happens.”

  “You believe in love at first sight, sir?”

  “Well, I believe there can sure be a strong attraction the first time people meet. Love is not a subject I’m an expert on.”

  “You ever been in love, sir?”

  Frank chuckled. “Oh, yes. That I can say for sure.”

  “Ever time I look at Susan I get a funny feelin’ in the pit of my stomach.”

  “I’d say that was love then. Either that or a bad case of indigestion,” Frank said with a straight face.

  “You’re makin’ a joke out of this, sir.”

  “Not really, Danny. I’d have to say it appears like you’re smitten, for a fact. But how does Susan feel about it?”

  “The same way.”

  Frank hesitated for a moment. “Is this leading up to you wanting me to speak to Julie about you two?”

  “Oh, would you?”

  Frank cut his eyes to the young man. “You’re sharper than I suspected, boy. But I don’t think now is the time for me to be speaking to Julie about young love.”

  “Why not, sir? Miss Julie’s all the time makin’ eyes at you.”

  Frank set his whiskey glass on the table and stared at Danny. “You’re mistaken, Danny.”

  “No, sir, I ain’t neither. Susan’s seen it too. We done talked about it.”

  Before Frank could respond to that, four men rode up to the trading post and swung down from the saddle. Frank stared at them for a few seconds. “Get out back and look after the women, Danny. We’ve got trouble.”

  Twelve

  Frank stood up and slipped his Peacemaker in and out of leather a couple of times, making certain it was clear and slid easily. He walked over to the rough plank bar and waited. He knew two of the four men, Bad Eye Morris and Slim Dickson, and they were both trouble-hunting no-’counts. He did not recognize the other two.

  The four men crowded in and stopped cold when they spotted Frank, leaning up against the bar. Bad Eye was the first to speak.

  “Morgan,” he said coldly. “Of all the people in the world I didn’t want to see, you top the list.”

  “I’m not happy to see you either, Bad Eye,” Frank replied. “You beat up any women or robbed any old people l
ately.”

  “You go straight to hell, Morgan!” Bad Eye snapped.

  “Or raped any little girls, I might add.” Frank didn’t let up.

  “Nobody ever proved I done that, Morgan!”

  “You made your brags about it later, Bad Eye. Remember? You seemed really proud about doing it.”

  “Is that Frank Morgan?” one of the men Frank didn’t know asked.

  “Yeah, that’s him, Brady,” Slim said. “And I ain’t got no more use for him than he does for Bad Eye.”

  “You gonna try to take all four of us, Morgan?” Bad Eye asked with a sneer.

  “If it comes to that, yes. What are you doing in this part of the country?”

  “That’s none of your affair, Morgan,” Slim said. “We ride where we want to ride. We don’t need your damn permission.”

  “Looking for Val Dooley maybe?”

  “How in the hell did he know that?” the other stranger asked.

  “Shut up, Pike!” Bad Eye said.

  “I ain’t real sure I want to tangle with Frank Morgan,” Brady said. “Four of us or not.”

  “He ain’t nothin’ no more,” Bad Eye said. “Morgan’s gettin’ a little long in the tooth. ’Sides, I hear tell he’s lost his nerve.”

  “You want to find out right now, Bad Eye?” Frank asked.

  “I might, after I have me a drink.”

  “The bar’s closed,” Frank told him.

  “Who says?”

  “I say.”

  “Whose bottle is that over yonder on the table?” Bad Eye asked, pointing.

  “Mine,” Frank told him.

  “Where’s the barkeep?” Slim asked.

  “He went for a ride. He felt an urge to commune with nature.”

  “He felt a what?” Brady asked.

  “Hey,” Pike said, glancing out an open side window. “I hear women chatterin’ out back.”

  “Women?” Bad Eye questioned. “You’re crazy, Pike.”

  “I ain’t neither. I heared ’em.”

  “I smell soap for a fact,” Slim said. “You got women washin’ out back, Morgan?”

  “There are two ladies bathing, yes. And they don’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Says who?” Bad Eye asked.

  “Me,” Frank replied tersely.

  “I’d like to gleam me some female skin,” Pike said with a very nasty grin. “It’s been a long time.”

  “So is being dead,” Frank told him. “I’d give that a lot of thought were I you.”

  “Them women belong to you, Morgan?” Bad Eye questioned.

  “They don’t belong to anyone, Bad Eye. But they do want to be left alone while they enjoy their bath.”

  “I think I’ll just have me a look-see,” Bad Eye said, half turning toward the open door.

  “Hold it, Bad Eye!” Frank told him.

  But Bad Eye was already committed in his draw. When he turned to face Frank, his Colt was in his hand and he was smiling. “Now die, you son of a bitch!” he yelled.

  Frank’s Peacemaker leaped into his hand. He drilled Bad Eye in the belly, and the outlaw’s boots flew out from under him and he went down on his back on the floor. His friends either jumped out the window or ran out the door . . . straight into the guns of Julie, Susan, and Danny.

  Julie’s Greener roared, and Slim Dickson was literally cut in half by the buckshot. Susan’s rifle bullet tore into Brady’s chest and shattered his heart. Danny’s bullet caught Pike in the belly, and the outlaw was doubled over on his knees in the dirt. Dewey galloped up just as Pike fell face-forward.

  “Damn!” the old man said. “I always miss the fun.” He looked up as Frank stepped out onto the porch. “Friends of yourn, Drifter?”

  “Let’s say I knew them.” Frank named the outlaws.

  “Heared of Pike and Bad Eye,” Dewey said. “They was bad ones, for a fact. Prob’ly on their way to join up with that pack of trash Val Dooley runs.”

  “I ’spect so,” Frank agreed. He looked at Julie, Susan, and Danny. “Y’all done well. I’m proud of you.”

  “I got an old horse I thought was dyin’,” Dewey said, dismounting. “I dug a pit for her out back. Hep me with this sack of vittles and we’ll drag these no-’counts out back and drop ’em in the hole.”

  “I ain’t dead,” Pike said. “Don’t you be tossin’ me in no death pit.”

  “Did your horse get all right, Mr. Dewey?” Susan asked.

  “The horse come out just fine,” Dewey replied. “She had the colic, I reckon.”

  “I said I ain’t dead!” Pike protested.

  “You will be soon enough,” Dewey told him. “You got the look on you. Now shut up while I’m talkin’ to this young woman ’bout my good old mare.”

  “This ain’t decent,” Pike said, watching as Frank dragged Bad Eye out of the trading post and stretched him out on the ground.

  “Bunch of ugly bastards, for certain,” Dewey said, after eyeing the dead and dying. He handed the sack of food to Danny. “Take that inside, will you, son? Thankee.” Dewey squatted down beside Pike. “You’re talkin’ ’bout bein’ decent? That’s sorta like a skunk complainin’ about somethin’ smellin’ bad.”

  “You go to hell, you old coot!” Pike groaned.

  “You’ll be rotatin’ on the spit long ’fore I ever get there, you ugly bufflar turd. Now hurry up and pass on so’s I can get busy fixin’ supper. I’m gettin’ sorta hongry around my mouth.”

  “You’re a heartless, godless old bastard, you are!” Pike hissed at Dewey.

  “I was gonna say a few words from the Good Book over you scum,” Dewey told him. “Now I ain’t gonna say nothin’. I’m just gonna shovel the dirt over you and good riddance.”

  “You’ll give me a proper Christian send-off, won’t you, missy?” Pike asked, looking at Susan.

  “You were going to join up with Val Dooley and you want a Christian burial?” Susan asked. “Go to hell!”

  “Susan!” her mother admonished.

  “That seems like a right good thing to say to me,” Dewey said. “ ’Cause hell is shore where he’s a headin’.”

  “But she’s only fourteen!” Julie protested.

  “Ripe marryin’ age, you ax me,” Dewey opined. He looked at Danny, standing on the porch. “You, boy!”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “You axed this here comely lass to hitch up with you yet?”

  “Now see here!” Julie said.

  “I took me a squaw when she was fourteen. She was Blackfoot. Bore me three fine kids, she did.”

  “My Susan is not a squaw!” Julie said sharply.

  “But she’s built up right good,” Dewey said. “Time for her to git married. You axed her yet, boy?”

  Frank was leaning up against a porch support post, and smiled at the exchange.

  “I’m in pain!” Pike hollered. “Somebody get me a drink of whiskey.”

  “You got a belly wound,” Dewey said. “You can’t have no Who Hit John. That’d be bad for you.”

  “You old bastard!” Pike moaned.

  “What happened to your children, Mr. Dewey?” Susan asked.

  “The ones from the furst wife is all dead. I got kids from my second and third wife still around somewheres. I been a grandfather for years. Don’t never see my grandkids, though. They all up in Canada.”

  “I want some whiskey to hep ease this pain!” Pike hollered.

  “I told you,” Dewey said, “you got a belly wound. I can’t give you no whiskey. It’s bad for your health.”

  Pike cussed him.

  Bad Eye broke wind in death, and Pike jumped.

  “We better get him in the ground,” Dewey said. “He didn’t smell good when he was alive. Dead, he’s gonna be a real stinker.”

  “God, I might linger for days!” Pike said.

  “I shore hope not,” Dewey said. “You do that, I’ll be sorely tempted to shoot you myself and put you out of my misery.”

  “Your misery?” Pike said.
>
  “Grab Bad Eye’s feet there, Danny,” Dewey said. “Drag him around back. You’re young and strong. Me and Drifter will tend to Slim.”

  “You ladies keep an eye on Pike,” Frank suggested. “He might try to pull something.”

  “Ain’t you gonna get a Good Book and read over ’em?” Pike questioned.

  “We’ll wait till you kick the bucket,” Dewey told him. “Read over you all at once. It’ll be easier that way.”

  “Easier for who?” Pike asked.

  “For us,” Dewey replied.

  “Damned old coot!” Pike said.

  When the men returned from dropping the dead into the pit, Julie pointed to Pike. “He’s unconscious.”

  “Won’t be long now, I reckon,” Dewey said. “Howsomever, I have seen ’em linger for two, three days. Git to be a real bother after a while.”

  “Bother?” Susan questioned.

  “Oh, yeah, missy. They git to talkin’ in their dark sleep. They’ll start confessin’ all their sins and Lord have mercy, that can take days. Gits plumb nerve-rackin’. I’member one old mountain man name of Big Foot Fontaine. A Frenchy from up Canada way. He took him a Pawnee arrow in the belly and lingered around ’tween livin’ and dead for days. Talked all the damn time. Like to have wore us all out. He talked about all the women he said he’d known. I don’t think he realized he was jawin’ with Saint Peter. And lyin’ too. If Saint Peter didn’t know nothin’ ’bout women at the beginnin’, he damn shore did when Big Foot got done.”

  Danny was laughing at the old man. “Is that the truth, Mr. Dewey?”

  “I’m here to tell you it is, boy. I mean, I cleaned it up a mite on ’count of the females present.”

  Pike suddenly groaned, stiffened, and then relaxed.

  “That’s all for him,” Frank said. “Grab his feet, Danny. It’s time for a funeral.”

  * * *

  Julie was in the living quarters of the trading post, reading a book. Danny and Susan were sitting out back on a bench, doing what kids in their teens have been doing for centuries: gazing into each other’s eyes and breathing heavily. Frank and Dewey were sitting on the front porch, talking quietly.

  “You done set yourself a near’bouts impossible task, Drifter,” Dewey said.

  “I know it.”