him.
"Rumor, that's something I'd just as soon keep quiet for the time
being."
"It's quiet. It's quiet." Clancy stared at him hard, then grinned again.
"That's Dec Martin. He was one of Joe Stuart's best friends. We'll keep
things quiet. Whatever you say."
"Thanks."
"We'll help you any way that we can," Dec volunteered. "Information is
what I need now," Jamie said, leaning closer.
"Why does this yon Heusen want the Stuart property so damn bad?"
"You know, we haven't figured that one out yet. We just haven't figured
it out. But he does want it badly."
"Badly enough to kill?"
"Hell, yes, I think so. Why, if the Indians hadn't gotten old Joe ..."
His voice trailed away as he stared at Jamie.
"It wasn't a tribe of Indians that came after him, was it?"
"Not according to Tess."
"Tess! She's alive!"
Jamie nodded. The look of pure, unadulterated joy on the man's face was
somewhat irritating. The sun-honey blond seemed to be a golden angel
around these parts. Edward Clancy leaned so far across the table that he
was nearly on top of it. His voice was soft; his features were knotted
up and tense.
"If Tess says it was von Heusen, it was von Heusen all right. Are
you--are you going to stay around and fight him?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."
He didn't guess so. He was committed, and he knew it. He had been
committed since he'd first seen Tess's face.
He just hadn't known it right away.
"Hell! Don't look now," Dec muttered suddenly. "What?" Jamie demanded.
"Some of von Heusen's boys. The four fellows who just came in. The
mean-looking ones."
They were a mean-looking group, Jamie decided. Lanky- haired,
glitter-eyed.
Two were light, two were dark-haired.
One chewed tobacco incessantly.
The dark-haired man who chewed tobacco seemed to be the spokesman for
the group. He slammed his fist on the bar, rattling all the glasses on
it. He shouted to the bartender, who couldn't seem to move swiftly
enough to the end of the bar.
"Hardy! What's the matter with you, ya getting' old?" one of the men
demanded.
"Whiskey. And not the rotgut you serve the local swine. Give us the best
in the house." Hardy set a bottle on the bar. The man grasped him by the
shirt collar and nearly pulled him over the bar. Hardy was starting to
turn purple, and his attacker was laughing like a hyena.
"That's enough."
Jamie was on his feet. Once again, everyone went silent. Von Heusen's
men were silent, too. The four of them stared at him with astonishment.
Then they began to smile. "Who the hell are you?" asked the dark-haired
brute.
"That doesn't matter. Let Hardy alone."
"Why, son, you don't know anything about this town at all, now, do you?"
"Let him go," Jamie repeated.
"He needs to be taught a lesson," one of the light-haired men said with
a nasty snarl.
"Yeah. A fatal lesson."
In a flash, the man released the bartender. He drew his gun.
He was fast, but not fast enough. Before he could aim he had dropped the
gun, howling in pain. His friends tried to draw.
Rapid shots sizzled from Jamie's Colts. The second man was on the floor,
clutching his leg. The third grasped an arm. The fourth was on the
floor.
He might have been dead. Jamie didn't know or care.
He looked at Edward Clancy.
"Thanks for the drink, friend," he said quietly.
Then he left the bar, walking over his fallen enemies.
Chapter Seven.
By nightfall the wagon had been unloaded except for the printing press,
which would be taken into town in the morning. Tess had even managed to
fill the hip bath in the kitchen with steaming water and soak for a long
time, washing away the dust and dirt from the trail. She kept reminding
herself that von Heusen was coming back, but she felt strangely calm,
despite the fact that Jamie had deserted them.
Von Heusen wasn't going to come right up to the house and murder her. He
hadn't the guts for that. She dressed in a soft summer-green cotton and
set about making dinner with Jane and Dolly to help her. She was
accustomed to Jane, but it was really nice to have Dolly with her. Dolly
kept up a steady stream of conversation, mostly about her husband, Will,
and their days in the military. Her stories were spicy and fun, and Tess
enjoyed them thoroughly.
They cooked a huge wild turkey on a spit and summer squash and green
beans and apple turnovers. When the table was set and everything was
ready, Tess went out to find Jon.
He was leaning against a pillar, a band tied around his dark hair and
forehead, a repeating carbine held casually in his hand. He looked over
the landscape. "Dinner's on, Jon."
He glanced her way, smiling.
"Thanks, Tess, but I think I'll wait out here a while longer, keep an
eye on things."
"It's turkey and all kinds of good things. I'd like to repay you for the
trip."
I'll eat soon," he promised. She nodded and left him. Halfway inside the
house she paused, wondering if he was looking for yon Heusen or Jamie.
She hoped Jamie was eating stale, weevil-fiddled bread somewhere.
She'had a feeling, though, that he was not.
She walked into the house and to the dining-room table. Hank had come
in, and he was smiling.
"The boys are out at the bunkhouse and they're pleased as peaches that
you're home, Miss. Tess. Well, them that's left. We've still got Roddy
Morris, Sandy Harrison and Bill McDowell. They won't be going anywhere."
"Wonderful!" Tess told him.
"Bring the boys in for dinner, will you, Hank?"
"They're already fixing. their suppers in the bunkhouse, Tess. We'll
have a big Sunday dinner for them all, that's what we'll do."
"Fine. That sounds good, Hank. Now, let's all sit." Dolly offered to say
grace. She thanked God for His bounty, for their being alive and being
together, then she asked God to take a good look at their enemies and
see if He couldn't do something to put bad men in their proper place.
"Amen," she finished.
"Amen," they all chorused.
Tess was about to take her first bite of dinner when she heard the
sounds of horses' hooves. She set down her fork.
How many of them had come with yon Heusen? It sounded like five, r! o
more.
"Excuse me," she said primly, setting her napkin carefully on the table
and rising casually. It didn't matter. Dolly, Hank and Jane all
catapulted to their feet, and they attached themselves to her like
shadows as she walked to the door. She could hear voices before she
reached it. Jon's first.
"That's close enough, fellows. Close enough."
"It's an Injun!" "I said close enough."
Someone must have moved. A barrage of shots went off, followed by a
startled silence.
Then yon Heusen started to talk.
"Hold it, boys, hold your fire! I've just come to talk to Hank and Jane
about removing themselves from the prop" There no need for them to
gemove themselves from the property," Jori said.
"This is private property, and the owner seems to want them here. One
step nearer, boy," he warned someone, "and there'll be a hole in your
chest where your heart used to be."
"Who in the blazes are you!" von Heusen thundered, losing his control.
"A friend."
"A friend! Well, listen here, you red-faced monkey. The Smarts are dead.
They were attacked by Comanche or " Apache?" Jon interrupted. She could
hear something cold and dangerous in his voice.
"Tell me, which Apache?
Which Apache do you think did it? Or don't you know? I'll tell you, I'm
damned sure it wasn't any Apache. Apache, any Apache, make war, or they