His boots were okay to wear, and his gun belt was fine. The pearl-handled Colt fit nicely. Since it was the same caliber as his, he had plenty of ammunition. The Arkansas toothpick as always, went in his ankle sheath.
He had lost his hat somewhere so he put on a floppy one Frank Harper had used. It made him look so ridiculous that he decided to go without a hat.
Fargo stared at his image in the mirror and shook his head in amusement. He looked like he should be huddled in an alley, a wine bottle glued to his lips. His left arm and right leg were stiff from the bites, but the more he moved them, the better he felt. He practiced drawing the Colt a few times and slicked it as quick as could be.
Fargo went into the main room. There was the real surprise. Delicious aromas brought a roar from his stomach.
Two candles were on the table. Mary had set out her best plates, with a fork and a spoon beside each. A cup and saucer sat by the plate at the head of the table. She was cooking and humming, wearing what had to be the best dress she owned. Nelly and Jayce were over near the hearth, staring at her as if they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing.
“Are you hungry?” Mary asked.
“I could eat those wolves raw,” Fargo said.
“No need for that.” Mary brought the coffeepot over. “Permit me.” She held out the chair for him, and after he sat, she filled the cup with steaming-hot coffee. “Courtesy of the late and never to be lamented Tull Fitch.”
“Oh?”
“I went through his saddlebags and found coffee and flour and cornmeal and a few other things. Not a lot, but it will do us.” Beaming, Mary beckoned. “Children, why don’t you have a seat?”
They came over slowly, as if afraid the table would bite them, and sat staring at Fargo as if afraid he might bite them, too.
“Something the matter?” Fargo asked.
Nelly leaned closer and whispered, “What did you do to our ma?”
“I thanked her for the use of your pa’s clothes.”
Jayce fidgeted and regarded his mother with unease. “She’s been acting different ever since she tucked you in.”
“Different how?”
“Nice.”
Fargo chuckled. “It could be she’s just happy that Tull won’t bother her anymore.”
“She’s happy about something but it’s not that.”
Mary placed a bowl of scrambled eggs on the table. She had also made flapjacks and johnnycakes. There was a plate of toast, smeared lightly in jam. For meat they had the leftover chicken. And for dessert, she informed them, there were iced pastries.
Jayce’s eyes were wide with amazement. “We haven’t ate this good since I can remember.”
“When we get to a town and I find work, there will be more meals like this. Now dig in and help yourselves.”
Fargo wolfed down the eggs. He didn’t realize that he was the only one eating them until he was almost done. Then he noticed that they had all taken small portions of everything, leaving the lion’s share for him. He put down his fork and sat back. “You have to be hungrier than that.”
Mary was about to take a bite of toast. “Believe me, for us this is a feast.”
“I’m no hog.”
“You need to regain your strength.” Mary smiled. “And it’s my small way of saying thank you.”
Fargo turned to the kids. “Help yourselves to more. If you don’t, I won’t take another bite.”
“But Ma said—”
“Hush, son.” Fargo reached across and put a slice of toast and a johnnycake on each of their plates.
“I have died and gone to heaven,” Jayce said.
As the kids ate, now and then one or the other would close their eyes and make small sounds of pleasure. Mary, too, had a look of serene contentment.
Fargo could only begin to guess how rare this must have been. They were worse off than he thought. Toward the end of the meal, after Mary brought over the iced pastries, he asked something he had been wondering about. “Of all the places you could live, why did you and your husband pick here?”
“It was Frank’s doing,” Mary answered. “He wanted to get away from people. He wanted somewhere we could live in peace.”
“The middle of the Beartooth Mountains?” Fargo never ceased to marvel at the ridiculous things people did.
A sheepish look came over her. “You have to understand. My Frank was very much his own man. He liked doing things his way. And he took great pride in being able to provide for us all by his lonesome.”
Fargo gazed about the spare room and at their threadbare clothes. He almost asked, You call this providing? Only a harebrained idiot would think that bringing his family to the remote Bearthtooths was good for them. He suspected that Frank Harper had been one of those pigheaded sorts who had to do everything his way.
Mary had more to say. “Frank was a loner. I knew that when I married him, and I accepted it. No one is perfect. The few flaws he had were more than outweighed by his good qualities. A woman couldn’t ask for a more kind and considerate father to her children. And he always did his best for us.”
“I’m glad you were happy.”
“I was, Skye. Really and truly. Oh, we didn’t have much, but we had one another, and that counted more to me than anything.”
Jayce said, “I loved my pa.”
“Me, too,” Nelly threw in.
Fargo let it drop. It wasn’t any of his business, anyhow. He finished eating, pushed back his plate, and patted his belly. “That was about one of the best meals I ever ate.”
Mary was pleased. “I have another surprise for you, but it doesn’t have to do with food.” She went to a closet and came back holding something behind her. “You mentioned that you lost your rifle when you lost your horse. Maybe this will do until you can find them.” She held out a Sharps rifle. “This was in Tull’s saddle scabbard.”
Fargo grinned in delight. He’d used a Sharps for a spell once, and liked it a lot. They held only one shot, but the heavier-caliber models were powerful enough to drop a buffalo or a grizzly.
“And you’ll need these.”
In a leather bag was enough ammunition to hold off a war party. Fargo loaded the Sharps and leaned it against his chair. “I’ll go hunting in the morning.” They had done so much for him, the least he could do was put meat on their table.
Mary sat back down. “I’ve been thinking,” she said hesitantly. “Tull’s horse is tied out back.”
“So?”
“You could be long gone when Cud Sten and his men get here.”
Fargo looked at her. She was asking him to run out on them. “That’s a hell of a thing to say to me.”
Mary averted her gaze. “It’s just that they’re likely to kill you if you stay. Cud has had his sights set on me for some time. He’ll be jealous, you staying under our roof. Then there’s Tull. No one ever kills one of Cud Sten’s men and lives. He brags about that.”
The way Fargo saw it, he could do one of three things. He could hide nearby and wait for Sten’s bunch to leave. He could stay put and give a good account of himself. Or he could play cat and mouse. “Has he ever laid a hand on you?”
Mary flushed. “Not yet, but not through lack of interest. The reason he keeps coming back is that he wants me to be his woman. He told me so to my face. He even hinted that if I don’t give in, he might take me by force.”
“I figured as much.”
“I told him that if he ever tried, I would get hold of a knife and cut off parts of him he’s partial to. So far, the threat has kept his hands off me.”
Fargo was blunt with her. “It won’t do so forever.”
“No,” Mary agreed. “Why is why I’ve been praying for a miracle.” She added in a low voice, “And here you are.”