A Big Sky Christmas (28 page)

The wagon train turned west a couple days later. If Jamie had figured correctly—and he was pretty sure he had—Eagle Valley was right in front of them, about two weeks' journey away.

Two more weeks for the good weather to hold, he mused as he rode in front of the wagon train. Would that be possible? Already winter had held off with its full force for longer than he had dared hope.

Not that it wasn't cold all the time. Every morning ice had to be broken off the top of the water buckets before the animals could drink. The sun shone most days, but its light was weak and watery and held only scant warmth. The temperature usually climbed above freezing, but not always. People lived in their coats now, not taking them off even at night when they crawled into their bedrolls.

By the time they got where they were going, the whole lot of them would be pretty gamey, Jamie thought with a smile.

Bodie came up alongside him and waved a hand at the grasslands surrounding them. “It's mighty dry up here. Is there a drought going on?”

“No. The cold's killed all the grass, at least on top of the ground. The snows will come in and cover it up for several months, and then come spring when the snow melts, all that water will soak into the ground, down to the roots of the grass. That's when it'll start budding out again. Once these pilgrims get where they're going, they can plant winter grass next fall if they want to, so they'll have some graze for their livestock almost year-round. Anyway, as I recall, Eagle Valley has more and better vegetation to start with. The foothills get more rain in the spring and fall than the plains do.”

Bodie squinted at the western horizon. “If Eagle Valley is in the foothills of the Rockies, like you said, Jamie, shouldn't we be able to see the mountains by now?”

“Be patient,” Jamie told him. “You'll see 'em soon enough. When you do, it'll seem like you're never going to get there. They'll sit there in front of us for days without looking like they're getting any closer.”

Jamie's prediction proved to be true. A day later, the immigrants spotted what looked like low-lying white clouds in the distance. Jamie rode along the train to the Bradford wagon, which was being driven by Savannah, who had proven to be an adept hand at getting the oxen to move.

Jamie pointed to the west and said to Alexander and Abigail, “See those white patches up in the sky, way off over yonder? That's snow on top of the Rocky Mountains.”

The children were impressed, and so was Savannah.

“It's beautiful,” she said. “I never thought I'd see such a sight. When you spend your days in hotel rooms and your nights in a darkened theater, your idea of scenery is a painted backdrop. I like the real thing much better.”

“You've changed a mite in the past couple months while we've been on the trail,” Jamie said.

Savannah shook her head. “No. I've changed a lot. And all for the better, thanks to you, Mr. MacCallister.”

“Not just thanks to me. A certain young fella had something to do with it, too.”

Jamie couldn't be sure if Savannah's cheeks were red from the chilly wind . . . or if she was blushing a little, too. But she looked happy, and that was the main thing, he supposed, whatever the reason.

 

 

Savannah had gotten Alexander and Abigail nested down in a veritable mountain of blankets and quilts when she heard a soft footstep outside the wagon. The children were asleep, so she moved to the back of the vehicle and whispered through the gap around the canvas flap, “Who's there?”

“It's just me.”

The voice was familiar, and it made warmth well up inside her. Not real, physical warmth, although that would have been more than welcome, but rather an emotional one that was quite comforting, anyway.

She climbed over the tailgate and out of the wagon, her movements hampered somewhat by the thick layers of clothing she wore. Bodie reached up, took hold of her under her arms, and helped her to the ground.

That made it easy for him to press her body against his as he hugged her. As many clothes as they both had on, there wasn't anything sensual about the embrace, but Savannah found it very satisfying, anyway.

And when he leaned down to kiss her . . . well, that
was
sensual, and it started her heart pounding harder as their lips clung together.

“I'm sure glad you decided not to leave the wagon train and go back to acting,” he said quietly as they held each other and she rested her head against his chest.

“I miss Cyrus and Dollie and everybody else in the troupe,” Savannah said. “I'd be lying if I said I didn't. One day I'd like to see them all again. But I've made so many friends here on the wagon train . . . Moses and Hector and the Binghams . . . and you. I can't imagine ever leaving now.” She paused. “When we get to Eagle Valley . . . you're going to stay, aren't you, Bodie?”

“I've been talking to Captain Hendricks. I told him I want to claim a homestead, too. I've spent a lot of years on the drift, Savannah, ever since my folks died. I reckon it's time that I settled down.”

He wouldn't have to find a homestead to claim, she thought. The one where Reverend Bradford had planned to settle with his children ought to be available. Savannah planned to see to it that Alexander and Abigail got what was coming to them, but they would need a grown-up to help them.

Maybe a couple grown-ups . . . a couple . . . and two children . . .

Well, that made a family, didn't it?

She didn't allow herself to say any of those thoughts out loud. She didn't want to rush Bodie or pressure him into anything. But he was a smart man, she told herself. He would figure it out soon enough. If the idea hadn't occurred to him by the time the wagon train reached Eagle Valley, surely it would once they had been there a while.

Moses had conducted Reverend Bradford's funeral. Maybe he would be willing to perform a marriage ceremony, too.

The two of them held each other for a time, talking quietly and kissing now and then. Even though the night was very cold, the time they spent together was a pleasant interlude.

Finally Savannah said, “I need to get back in the wagon, I guess. If the weather was nicer—”

“But it's not,” Bodie said. “One of these days it will be again, though. When that day comes, we'll spend a lot of time together and enjoy every minute of it.”

“I can't wait.” Savannah gave him another kiss and climbed into the wagon.

Bodie's heart was light as he walked back toward Moses's wagon. He had come mighty close to asking Savannah to marry him, but he wanted to wait for a better time. For one thing, he wanted to see the look on her face when he asked her that all-important question, and the night was too dark for that.

There would be plenty of chances to propose later, he told himself. Now that they had both decided to remain in Eagle Valley permanently, they had all the time in the world. That thought made him so happy he started whistling a tune. It wasn't a real song, just an irrepressible expression of how he felt at the moment.

It also served inadvertently to cover up the sound of a footstep behind him. He had no warning before something smashed into the back of his head, driving him to his knees.

Pain exploded inside his skull, pain so intense that it blinded him momentarily. He tried to fight his way to his feet, but somebody kicked him in the back and knocked him facedown on the ground. Weight came down on him, a knee digging painfully into the small of his back and pinning him there. An icy-cold ring of metal pressed into his temple.

He recognized it as the muzzle of a gun and stopped trying to struggle. He had no idea who had attacked him, but he sensed that his life was hanging by a slender thread. All that would be required to end it was a little pressure on the trigger. . . .

“That's better,” a man said in a harsh whisper.

The voice was familiar, but Bodie couldn't place it right away. The man bent over closer to him, close enough for Bodie to smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Don't give me any trouble,” the man went on, “and you might come out of this alive. But I wouldn't count on that, you dirty, stinkin' double-crosser.”

Bodie knew the voice, knew who it was that had come out of the cold, dark night to wreck all his plans.

Eldon Swint.

The outlaw wrapped the fingers of his left hand around Bodie's arm and hauled the young man to his feet, keeping the gun barrel pressed to Bodie's head.

Bodie tried to force his brain to work despite the throbbing in his skull and make some sense of what Swint had said. “Eldon, why are you doing this? I never double-crossed you! I told you I was leaving the gang. I even gave up my share of the loot.”

Swint ground the gun barrel against Bodie's temple, making him gasp in pain. “You pretended to give up your share! I'll bet it was your idea for Lucas, Mahaffey, and Pearsoll to steal that whole pile of double eagles!”

Bodie's heart sank. Everything suddenly made sense. He knew why Jake and the other two had left the gang right after he did and had joined up with the wagon train.

He had considered Jake his friend and didn't like to think that he was capable of such treachery, but Bodie's instincts told him it was true. Jake had been angling to get his hands on more than his fair share, right from the start. Clearly, he had come up with a way to do it.

Swint had figured out who was responsible for the loss of the loot, as well as where they had fled, and he had gotten on their trail like a bloodhound.

“You followed us all the way from Kansas City?”

“Damn right we did,” Swint said. “Took us awhile to realize where that money must've gone, and we've run into nothin' but trouble chasin' you boys down. Fever hit the whole bunch of us and laid us low for a while. Killed a couple of the fellas. But the rest of us got over it, and now we've caught up to you at last, you no-good thief.”

“Listen to me, Eldon,” Bodie said, trying to make his voice as convincing as he possibly could. “I swear I didn't have anything to do with taking that money. I gave up my share, just like I told you back in Kansas City. That's the truth. All I wanted was to come with this wagon train.”

“And be with your little whore of an actress.” Swint laughed as Bodie stiffened. “Yeah, I know all about her. If you don't want somethin' mighty bad to happen to her as well as you, you'll tell me where the loot is.”

“I don't know. I swear I don't.”

Swint took the gun away from Bodie's temple, but before the young man could react, Swint raked the barrel across the side of his head in a vicious swipe. Bodie gasped as he felt blood well from the gash that the gun sight had opened up.

“I'll kill you, you damn fool,” Swint grated. “You know that, don't you?”

It had been a mistake for him to ever think that Eldon Swint might not be as tough and brutal as he appeared to be, Bodie realized. The man was a ruthless hardcase, through and through, and would do anything to get what he wanted.

“If I knew, I'd tell you, Eldon. I really would. But I can't tell you something I don't know.”

“Where's Lucas and the other two?”

Bodie hesitated. If he sold out Jake, Mahaffey, and Pearsoll, it would be the same thing as signing their death warrant. Swint intended to kill them.

But Swint intended to kill
him
, too. Bodie had no doubt about that. And he had threatened Savannah.

“You brought the whole gang with you?”

“That's right, except for the two the fever took. They're situated all around the camp, ready to open fire at my signal. We'll lay waste to this wagon train if we have to, Cantrell. You better believe it.”

Bodie believed it, all right, and with a sinking feeling inside him, he realized the situation was worse than he had thought. Swint wouldn't want to leave any witnesses alive, and he wouldn't pass up whatever loot he could find in the wagons. A cold certainty came over Bodie, colder even than the frigid winter temperatures in Montana Territory.

Swint planned to wipe out everyone on the wagon train—Savannah, the kids, Moses,
everybody
—take everything of value from it, and probably burn the wagons behind him as a memorial to his evil.

To give himself time, Bodie took a deep breath and sighed. He suddenly realized Swint's mistake was not knowing who was accompanying the wagon train. He decided to go along with what Swint thought had happened. “Blast it, all right. I should've known all along that I couldn't fool you, Eldon. But just for the record, it was Jake's idea, not mine.”

That was the truth, anyway.

“That don't surprise me none,” Swint said. “I always thought Lucas was a sneaky little snake. Show me where the loot's hid and I'll let you live. Lucas and them other two got to die, though.”

“Fine.” The bitterness in Bodie's voice was genuine even if the sentiment he expressed was not. “He never should've been greedy and gotten us into this mess.”

“Damn right. Now move, and don't forget that I'll blow your brains out if you try anything funny. I don't really need you. It'll be easier if you show me where the money is, but I'll find it one way or another.”

“There's a false bottom in one of the wagons,” Bodie said, his brain working furiously as he formulated his plan. It would take a considerable amount of luck to make it work, but he didn't really have any other choice. “It's over here.”

With the gun still at his head, he stumbled toward the wagon where Moses was asleep.

Moses . . . and Jamie Ian MacCallister.

 

 

Jamie didn't sleep as well as he once had. It was just part of growing older. The cold didn't help matters, either. He felt it more as it seeped into his bones and made them ache and his muscles grow stiff. He was half-awake as footsteps approached the wagon.

Something was off about them. The gait was wrong, causing Jamie's instincts to warn him. Instantly, he was fully awake and alert. His hands reached out in the darkness and unerringly closed around the butts of the .44s he had placed where he could get to them easily.

He rose up, a massive, bearlike shape in the shadows inside the wagon, and moved silently to the rear of the vehicle. Using the barrel of one gun, he moved the canvas flap aside slightly. Two men were coming toward the wagon, one of them stumbling slightly like he was drunk. The other man held his arm as if the first man had imbibed too much.

As clouds moved away from the moon, Jamie saw the second man holding a gun and knew the first man wasn't drunk. Something was very wrong.

The first man said, “I'll show you how to get into that false bottom in the wagon. The loot's hidden there. You've got to give me your word, though, Eldon, that you and the rest of the gang won't hurt anybody.”

“Nobody but Lucas, Mahaffey, and Pearsoll,” the second man said.

Jamie knew he was lying. He could hear it in the man's voice.

“Those double-crossers got to die.”

“Fine, but you've got to get word to the men hidden outside the camp not to open fire,” the first man said.

Jamie recognized the voice. It belonged to Bodie Cantrell. He was doing a good job of letting him know what was going on.

“That's enough jabberin',” the other man snapped. “Anybody in that wagon?”

“No, it's mine. I took it over after the fella who had it died of a fever, too. The same sickness hit us. After that happened, I fixed up the false bottom and hid those sacks of double eagles in it.”

“All right, open it up. I want to see that loot of mine . . . and then get down to business.”

Killing business, Jamie thought. He could hear the bloodlust in the man's voice.

They were right outside the wagon. It was time to make his move.

Jamie swept the canvas aside and bellowed, “Hit the dirt, Bodie!” He came out of the wagon like a whirlwind, both guns extended in front of him.

Bodie rammed an elbow back into his captor's body and twisted away just as Swint pulled the trigger. Flame spouted from the gun muzzle. Bodie cried out as if he were hit.

Jamie didn't have time to check on him. He was too busy killing the viper in their midst.

Both .44s roared as he thumbed off shot after shot. Tongues of flame a foot long licked out from the gun barrels. Eldon was tough and stayed on his feet for a moment as Jamie's bullets pounded into him. He even got another shot off, the slug whining harmlessly over Jamie's head.

Then the lead storm took its toll. Eldon went over backwards, shot to pieces.

Jamie rammed the revolvers behind his belt, reached back into the wagon, and plucked his Winchester from the floor. He levered a round into the chamber as he shouted, “Preacher! Smoke! Outlaws around the camp!”

He leaped over a wagon tongue and plunged into the night, ready to do battle. He didn't know how many outlaws were hiding around the camp, but with him, Preacher, and Smoke going after them, to say nothing of Audie and Nighthawk . . .

Well, however many there were, the varmints were outnumbered.

They just didn't know it yet.