Those Jensen Boys! Page 9

  “I can’t smell anything except manure,” Chance said.

  “You best rattle your hocks,” the old-timer went on, “’fore Miss Em’ly throws it out. You don’t want to get that little gal mad at you.”

  “Yeah, we figured that out already.” Ace waved at the old man and went back to pull on his boots and gather up his gear.

  When they climbed down the ladder from the loft a couple minutes later, the old-timer was waiting for them. “They call me Nate. I’m the hostler around here. I take care of all these stagecoach horses.”

  “We figured as much,” Ace told him. “We’re Ace and Chance Jensen—”

  “I know who you are,” Nate said. “Miss Bess told me all about you fellas and how you helped ’em when Eagleton’s gunnies came after ’em. I sure am mighty obliged to you boys for that. Them little gals mean the world to me. I been workin’ for their pa since they was little bitty. Seen ’em both grow up into fine young ladies, I have.”

  “You probably don’t care for them risking their lives on those stagecoach runs, then,” Ace said.

  The old-timer grimaced. “I done my damnedest to talk ’em out of it. I told their pa I’d take the stage through. I used to be a jehu, years ago ’fore I got so stove up. We had it all figured out. I’d handle the team, and Brian ’d ride shotgun. But them two . . .” Nate sighed and shook his head. “They come out here, hitched up the team, and drove off ’fore either of us knew what was goin’ on. That was a few weeks back. Nothin’ happened durin’ the run to Bleak Creek and back, so Brian let ’em keep on with it. Reckon we both knew, though, it was only a matter of time ’fore all hell broke loose.”

  “Well, we’ll be handling the run from now on,” Ace said.

  “Until things settle down,” Chance added. “We’re not staying here permanently.”

  Nate scratched his grizzled jaw. “Yeah, you two boys don’t look like the sort of fellas who let much grass grow under your feet.”

  “Can’t,” Chance said with a grin. “There’s too much to see and do in this world. We don’t want to miss any of it.”

  They left the old-timer tending to the stock and went into the stage line office. The door between the office and the living quarters in the back was open, and as Nate had said, they could smell the coffee brewing. The aroma was mixed with the smell of bacon frying, and that blend was one of the most appealing scents in the world.

  Bess heard Ace and Chance come in and called through the open door, “Back here. We’re just sitting down to breakfast.”

  The Jensen brothers went through and found themselves in a spacious kitchen with a heavy table in the center. Bess and her father were already seated at the table while Emily, wearing a somewhat incongruous apron over her denim trousers and buckskin shirt, set platters of bacon and flapjacks in front of them.

  “Sit,” she said to Ace and Chance. “I’ll get your food and pour some coffee for you.”

  Chance smiled as he sat down. “I could get used to being waited on like this.”

  “Don’t,” Emily snapped. “You probably won’t be around here long enough for that.”

  The boys dug in, and the food was as good as Bess had promised it would be, as good as it smelled. When they were finished, they lingered over a second cup of coffee.

  Corcoran leaned back in his chair. “Now that you’ve had a night to sleep on it, are you still determined to take over that run to Bleak Creek?”

  Ace glanced at his brother, who gave him a tiny shrug, leaving it up to Ace.

  “We are,” Ace told Corcoran. “I’m sure we can handle it.”

  “I’m not sure of anything anymore,” the older man said. “But if you want to give it a shot, I won’t stop you. And you’ll have my gratitude, as well.”

  Ace looked at Bess. “Maybe we can take the coach out today and I can get some practice handling the team.”

  “Fine,” she said, although it was obvious she was still reluctant to accept the idea.

  Emily asked Chance, “What do you need help with?”

  “Not a thing,” he told her. “I’m perfect just the way I am.”

  That drew a disgusted snort from the blonde. “That’ll be the day.”

  A short time later, Bess, Ace, and Chance went out to the barn where Nate was still working. Bess told the old hostler, “We need to show the boys how to hitch up a team, and how to change teams, for that matter. They’ll need to do that in Bleak Creek.”

  They spent half the morning working on that, hitching and unhitching teams while Bess and Nate showed them what to do and supervised the task until Ace and Chance were confident they could handle the job on their own.

  With that done, Bess said, “All right, hitch up a team again, and we’ll let you try your hand at driving, Ace.” She paused, then added, “Emily can pack a lunch for us.”

  “All right,” Ace said. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “I’ll go ask her.” Bess left the barn and went into the office.

  Chance grinned at Ace. “So, you and Bess are gonna have a little picnic.”

  “No, I’m going to practice driving the stagecoach,” Ace replied solemnly.

  “And have lunch out on the trail somewhere—which is a picnic.”

  “Yeah, but you’re making it sound like more than it really is. There’s nothing romantic about it.”

  Chance grinned. “You never know until you try.”

  Ace scoffed at that. “Come on. Let’s get those horses hitched up like she told us.”

  As they worked at the task, Chance asked the old hostler, “What do you think, Nate? You’ve known Bess a lot longer than we have. Is she interested in Ace?”

  “That there is the most level-headed gal I’ve ever knowed in my life,” Nate replied. “She ain’t never gonna do nothin’ without thinkin’ it through six ways from Sunday. Howsomever, once she makes her mind up about somethin’, she ain’t gonna budge from it. So if she is smitten with you, young fella—and I ain’t sayin’ whether she is or she ain’t—you might as well just accept it, ’cause it ain’t gonna change.”

  Ace shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think Bess is interested in anything right now except keeping this stage line going and stopping Eagleton from ruining her father’s business.”

  “Then you don’t mind if I suggest that Emily and I come along for this practice run of yours,” Chance said.

  “Not at all,” Ace said, although to tell the truth he was a little disappointed. He hadn’t minded the idea of spending a little time alone with Bess. He would never admit that to his brother, though. Chance could already be insufferable enough at times without telling him he was right about anything.

  “Well, I’ll just go do that while you finish hitching up the team,” Chance declared, and before Ace could stop him, he walked toward the stage line office, whistling a tune as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

  Ace muttered to himself, shook his head, and got busy backing the draft horses into position in front of the stagecoach.

  From where he sat on a three-legged stool, the hostler said, “I’ll bet that brother o’ yours is a handful.”

  “He can be,” Ace agreed.

  By the time he finished getting the team ready, Chance came back out to the barn and announced, “The girls will be ready in a few minutes.” He carried one of the coach guns. “Might take a few potshots with this while we’re out on the trail. I haven’t fired a shotgun in a while.”

  Emily carried a wicker basket when she and Bess joined them. She opened one of the coach doors and placed it inside, then motioned for Chance to climb in.

  “You should go first,” he told her. “You’re the lady.”

  Emily tugged her flat-crowned hat down tighter on her hair. “Just get in there.”

  Ace and Bess climbed to the driver’s seat. The coach was turned so that he could drive straight out through the barn’s open double doors.

  “You said you’ve driven a wagon, so you know how to get a team t
o go and stop and turn,” she told Ace. “The main thing you have to think about with a stagecoach is that it’s built differently from a wagon. It’s not as stable on the road and will turn over easier if you’re going too fast. Just take it easy and you should be all right.”

  Ace gripped the reins, licked his lips, and nodded. “Are we ready?”

  Bess leaned over and called through the coach’s windows, “Everybody all right in there?”

  “We’re fine,” Emily replied. “Ready to go.”

  Bess straightened and nodded to Ace. “All right. Take the coach out.”

  He made sure the brake lever wasn’t engaged, lifted the reins, and slapped them lightly against the backs of the team as he called out, “Hyaaahh!”

  The horses were experienced and knew what to do. They moved ahead at a walk, leaning against their harness, and the coach lurched into motion.

  Bess rocked back and forth on the driver’s seat but steadied herself by gripping the brass rail at the side of it. “A little tighter on the reins next time, but that wasn’t a bad start. Now turn left and take us out of town. We’ll head out on the mine road. It’s nice and flat and straight.”

  “The flatter and straighter the better,” Ace muttered under his breath as he hauled the team around and sent them trotting out of Palisade.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  From the town to the base of the mountain where Samuel Eagleton’s Golden Dome Mine was located was only about a mile. The road was fairly wide and very hard packed from the hundreds of ore wagons that had rolled over it.

  Ace had always had the knack of picking up new skills pretty quickly, so he didn’t have much trouble guiding the stagecoach team along the route. He started feeling comfortable within half a mile.

  “You’re a good driver,” Bess told him. “The horses respond well to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Watch the reins, though. You’re still a little loose with them. Not too tight, though, or the horses will start to fight you.”

  Ace modified his grip on the reins as the coach continued rolling toward the mountain. It swayed some, but it was designed to do that. The leather thoroughbraces had to have some give to them to absorb the bumps from the rough places in the road.

  “What about the damage that avalanche did to the trail below the pass?” Ace asked. “Will the coach be able to get through?”

  “I think so,” Bess replied. “It’ll be a narrow squeeze in a few places but it won’t be like that for long. Mr. Eagleton will have his men out repairing it. They may already be doing that. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit. He has to be able to get his gold wagons out.”

  “The way you’ve talked about him, the fella must be as rich as old King Midas.”

  “He’s rich, all right. No telling how many tons of ore he’s taken out of the Golden Dome, and it’s pretty high-grade, too, from what I’ve heard.”

  “And yet he wants to ruin your father and take over the stagecoach line.”

  “It doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Bess agreed. “But I guess when you’re used to having that much money and power, you don’t like it when people say no to you.”

  Ace chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been rich or powerful. So I never really had to worry about it. Give me a good horse and somewhere to go, and I’m happy.”

  “In other words, you’re a saddle tramp.”

  “Chance and I have been called that,” Ace admitted. “I like to think we just have restless natures.”

  “Emily’s more restless than I am,” Bess said. “I think she’d like to drift around like you and your brother do. Women aren’t really allowed to do that, though. We’re expected to stay in one place and make a home.”

  “Well, not many of ’em drive stagecoaches or ride shotgun, either,” Ace pointed out. “There ought to be room for all kinds of folks in the world.”

  “It’s a nice thought.” Bess pointed ahead of them. “See that wide place in the road? You’re going to turn around there. Think you’re up to it?”

  “I’ll give it my best try,” Ace promised.

  Inside the coach, Chance rode in the seat facing backward while Emily sat on the forward-facing seat with the picnic basket beside her. He would have preferred sitting side by side with her, but she’d told him to sit across from her and he didn’t think it was a good idea to argue with her.

  It was always better to make a gal think what he was doing was her idea, not his.

  He patted the smooth wooden stock of the coach gun across his knees and asked, “Have you ever had to use one of these?”

  “What do you mean? I’ve fired a shotgun plenty of times.”

  “At somebody who was trying to shoot you?”

  “Well . . . no,” she said, glaring at him. “But you don’t exactly look like Wild Bill Hickok to me. How many shoot-outs have you been in?”

  “Ace and I shot at those fellas who were trying to run you off the road a couple of days ago,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, but they were shooting at us, not you.”

  “They fired back at us. Didn’t come close, but still, they were shooting.”

  “You know what I mean. Just how many showdowns have you been in, anyway?”

  “A few,” Chance said. “More than I like to think about. And more than I like to talk about.”

  That was true, and for once he was serious. He and Ace had been in some shooting scrapes. They had come through all right every time—so far—but Chance hadn’t forgotten the heart-pounding experiences. It hadn’t been fear, really, that made his heart race, although he didn’t believe anybody could face up to being shot at without experiencing even a trace of fear. Nor was it excitement. Mainly, he thought, it was the fact that everything went so damn fast. Usually, there wasn’t time to be too scared or too excited. He just had to act on instinct. See the threat, react, the crash of guns going off, tighten muscles in anticipation of the smash of a bullet—and then it was over. Gun smoke drifted in the air and bodies lay sprawled on the ground and pumped out blood. Struggle to grasp the concept that he was still alive . . .

  “What’s wrong with you?” Emily asked, breaking into Chance’s thoughts. “You looked like you just wandered off into the wilderness.”

  “Sorry.” He put his usual smile back on his face. “I was just thinking about what’s in that picnic basket. What have you brought for us to eat?”

  “Fried chicken and rolls and a jug of buttermilk. Nothing fancy like what I’m sure you’re used to.”

  “Don’t be so certain of that. I like to dress well, but Ace and I are a far cry from having a lot of money. It’s hard to earn much when we’re always on the drift like we are.”

  Emily leaned back against the seat. “I think I’d like to do that. Ride around and see some new places. Pa moved our family a lot when Bess and I were growing up, but that’s different. When you’re a kid you don’t have any choice where you go. Your parents decide that for you. You’re lucky that—” She stopped short. “Oh, hell.”

  “Lucky we never knew our parents and were raised by a shiftless gambler?”

  “That’s not what I meant. Well, not exactly that way. But you have to admit, your lives have been a lot more carefree than ours.”

  Chance shrugged. “I reckon so.” And more lonely, too.

  Before they could continue the conversation, the coach slowed.

  Chance looked out the window. “Now what are we doing?”

  “Turning around, I’d guess. Bess must be confident that your brother can handle the team all right. It’s time for him to try something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “Timberline Pass,” Emily said.

  “You want me to what?” Ace asked.

  “Drive through the pass and down the mountain into the valley,” Bess said.

  Ace stared at her as he sat on the driver’s box next to her. He had swung the coach around without any trouble in the wide spot in the road she had indicated, then brought it to a
stop.

  “This is the first time I’ve ever driven a stagecoach, and you want me to take it down that road with all those hairpin turns.”

  “We need to check out the damage from the avalanche, like you mentioned earlier. And do you really think driving back and forth a few more times between here and town would prepare you better? The next run to Bleak Creek is the day after tomorrow. We need to find out now if you’ll be ready.”

  What Bess said made sense, Ace supposed, although he still thought the idea of driving down the mountainside over that twisting road was pretty daunting. It would certainly be easier, though, with her sitting right beside him to show him the ropes.

  He sighed. “All right.” Then he got the team moving again.

  It didn’t take long to reach Palisade and drive through the settlement. As they approached Timberline Pass, Ace looked out through the gap and saw the valley spread before them. The mountains on the other side of the valley, ten miles away, were easily visible in the clear air. And the distance down to the valley floor was a little breathtaking.

  Chance stuck his head out one of the coach windows and raised his voice. “Wait a minute. Are we really going down there?”

  “We are,” Bess told him.

  “Then maybe Emily and I should, uh, get out first . . . Oof!”

  Emily took hold of the back of his coat and pulled him away from the window. “Quit being such a baby. We’ll be fine.”

  Up on the box, Ace said, “Chance is just a little nervous. So am I, to be honest.”

  “Just take it slow and easy and you’ll be all right.”

  Ace drove through the gap between two of the giant slabs of rock that resembled palisades and gave the nearby settlement its name. The ground slanted down under the stagecoach’s wheels. His instinct was to reach for the brake lever, but he knew the slope wasn’t steep enough to need it yet so he resisted the impulse.

  The road followed a gentle curve that brought it around a shoulder of the mountain and into the route that zigged and zagged back and forth down to the valley.

  “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” he said after a few minutes.