Authors: Jon Sharpe

Beartooth Incident (5 page)

BOOK: Beartooth Incident

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Mary Harper looked sadly down at Fargo and didn’t say anything. Her expression was more eloquent than words could be.

Fargo forced a chuckle. “I’m that bad off, am I?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Nothing but.”

Mary’s throat bobbed, and she touched the back of her hand to his cheek in a gesture of sympathy. “I’m no doctor. Oh, I can set broken bones and sew up cuts, and I have a few herbs for croup and the like. But you need a sawbones. Without one, without a hospital where they can tend you proper, well . . .” She bit her lip. “I can’t offer any guarantees.”

“I wasn’t expecting any.” Fargo softened his tone. “Look, we hardly know each other. But something tells me you’ll do the best you can. I’m in as good a pair of hands as any.”

She looked at him strangely, then gazed off into the trees, her face in profile as lovely as any he ever beheld. “It’s not far. Once I dress the bites and get some soup into you and we put you to bed, the rest will be in God’s hands.” She patted his shoulder. “If I were you, I’d do a lot of praying.”

“I’m not much for bending my knees,” Fargo confessed.

“Then we’ll pray for you. Never underestimate the power of the Almighty, Mr. Fargo. The Good Lord has kept my children and me alive.”

“But not your husband.”

Mary glanced sharply down. “No, not my Frank. And if I live to be hundred, I’ll never understand why God saw fit to take him. The kindest, most decent man I ever knew. Why, Mr. Fargo? Why do bad things happen to good people?”

“Hell. You’re asking the wrong man. Find yourself a parson. I gave up looking for answers long ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Fargo. A person needs to have faith in this life. Without it, what else is there?”

Fargo figured she really didn’t expect an answer. He wearily closed his eyes and immediately dozed off. A jolt brought him back to the world of the living. That, and a loud thump.

“At last!”

“Nelly, you heat up water. Jayce, bring in extra firewood.”

Fingers pried at Fargo’s buckskins. The dry blood had caked them to his skin and they wouldn’t come off. There was a tug, and then fingernails peeled at his shirt.

“I’m afraid I’ll need to cut these off.”

More reason for Fargo to miss the Ovaro. He had a spare shirt in his saddlebags. “Do what you have to.”

As she worked, he faded in and out of consciousness. The warm cloth she used to wash the blood off felt wonderful. She used a needle and thread to stitch the bites and claw marks, and that didn’t feel wonderful at all. Each time the tip of the needle pierced his skin, he gritted his teeth.

“Sorry if I’m hurting you,” Mary said.

Fargo passed out again. When next he looked around, he was in a bed with blankets pulled to his chin. He did not need to pull them down to know he was naked. He brought an arm out from under and laid it on top.

The bed and a dresser were the only furniture. A single candle on the dresser cast flickering light.

A door opened, and in came Mary, carrying a wooden tray. On it were a steaming bowl of soup, a spoon, and a thick slice of buttered bread. She set the tray on the edge of the bed and sat next to him.

“Oh. You’re awake. Good. It saves me having to wake you to get some food into you.”

Fargo’s mouth watered. His stomach growled louder than the wolves had. “That sure smells good.”

Once again Mary Harper felt his forehead. “You’re burning up. I don’t have a thermometer, but I’d guess your temperature to be at least one hundred and three.”

“I’m more interested in that soup.” Fargo attempted to sit up, but once more his body betrayed him.

“Let me.” Mary dipped the spoon and brought it to his lips and carefully let the broth trickle into his mouth.

Fargo had never tasted anything so delicious. He yearned to grab the bowl and down the soup in great gulps, but fortunately he was too weak. And it might make him sick.

Mary took her time. Whenever any got on his chin, she wiped it with a cloth.

Warmth spread from Fargo’s belly. It made him drowsy, and the last thing he wanted was to pass out again. To try to stay awake he remarked, “You make the best chicken soup ever.”

“Thank the chicken. And Nelly. She plucked it.” Mary’s mouth tweaked down. “We have seven left now.”

“You killed one of your chickens just for me?”

Before she could answer, Jayce rushed breathless into the bedroom. He had been outside and was bundled in his threadbare coat. “Ma! Ma!”

“Calm down, son. You’re acting as if it’s the end of the world.”

“A rider is coming. I was out chopping firewood and saw him.”

Mary stiffened. “Just one? Do you know who it is?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s one of Cud’s men. That mean killer. The one they call Tull.”

There wasn’t much space under the bed. Barely enough for Fargo to keep from scraping his nose on the slat when he turned his head. Through the closed bedroom door came muffled voices and the patter of feet on the floorboards. He gathered that Mary and the kids were scurrying about, cleaning and hiding any trace he was there.

Mary had insisted he get under the bed. “It’s for your own good. I can’t predict what Tull will do if he finds you.”

“Give me a gun and I’ll take my chances.”

“All I have is a rifle, and in the shape you’re in, you wouldn’t be much use with it.”

The hell of it was, she was right.

Fargo could tell all three were scared. Nelly, especially. The girl had become as pale as a ghost. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and there she was, practically shaking with fear.

“Ma says to tell you he’s almost here. She says not to make a sound. And whatever you do, don’t come out from under there.”

Fargo grunted.

“You might want to scoot back against the wall. If he comes in here, he’ll see you.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help it. I like you.” Nelly’s thin mouth quirked in a nervous smile, and she closed the door behind her.

The scooting took some doing. By levering his elbows and wriggling, Fargo was able to slide far enough back that unless Tull got down on his hands and knees, he should be safe. It rankled him, though, this hiding. He had never hidden from trouble in his life.

The cabin grew quiet. Outside, a horse whinnied, and soon Fargo heard the low, gruff voice of the rider. Spurs jangled, and there was talk, Mary’s and the man’s, mostly, the man’s rising in anger. It was hard to tell what they were saying, though. Then, without warning, the bedroom door was flung wide.

Scuffed boots with large spurs entered and stopped midway. The boots turned from side to side.

Mary’s shoes appeared behind them in the doorway. “I can’t say I like you barging in here like this, Mr. Tull. A gentlemen wouldn’t behave as you do.”

“Who the hell is a gentleman?”

Fargo disliked the man, sight unseen.

“As you can see, no one is here. I told you there’s just me and the children. Why didn’t you take my word for it?”

“I’m not Cud, lady. You don’t mean bear squat to me.”

“Has anyone ever mentioned how crude you are?”

“Don’t put on airs.” Tull’s boots moved to the closet, and the closet door opened. “I saw tracks on my way in. Boots tracks. And I found two dead wolves. They hadn’t been dead all that long.”

“It has nothing to do with us.”

“So you say. But right where the boot tracks end, sled tracks begin. And the sled tracks come right to your cabin.”

“The children were out sledding after it snowed. The tracks you saw must be Jayce’s.”

“His feet ain’t that big.”

“I’ve seen tracks get bigger when snow starts to melt.”

Tull gave a snort. “You must think I’m as dumb as a stump. It hasn’t warmed up a lick since the blizzard.”

Fargo heard clothes rustle.

“See? No one is in there. Now why don’t I fix you some coffee and you can tell me why you’re here?”

The boots turned and took a step toward the bed. Fargo tensed, firming his grip on the toothpick. But the boots stopped a few feet away, and Tull didn’t bend down to look under the bed.

“Cud sent me ahead to make sure you and the brats are all right. He’s still a few days out and couldn’t come fast on account of the cows.”

“Cows?” Mare repeated.

“Oh, hell,” Tull declared. “Now he’ll be mad at me. I wasn’t supposed to give it away.”

“Why would he be bringing cows? I can’t afford to buy them. I have no money. He knows that.”

“We rustled a herd a month ago and he kept six out just for you. As a present.” Tull swore. “About makes me sick how he carries on about you. Used to be, Cud Sten was the hardest man I knew. Then he met you and went all to hell.”

“I’ll thank you to watch your language around the children.”

“I’m not changing how I talk for you or anyone else. And don’t think crying to Cud will help. I’m not scared of him like some of the others are.”

“He’s a very dangerous man.”

“
I’m
a dangerous man,” Tull said matter-of-factly. “In case you ain’t heard, I’ve put windows in the skulls of more men than Cud and all the rest put together, including that damn sneaky Rika.”

“You’re a natural-born killer. I’ll grant you that,” Mary Harper said. “Which is why I want you on your way as soon as possible. I won’t have you around my children any more than can be helped.”

“You have your gall. Just because you’re female, don’t think you can insult me and get away with it. And who says I’m going anywhere?”

“What?”

“Cud wants me to stay until he gets here. To watch over you, as he put it.” Tull’s laugh was ice and spite. “You and me can get better acquainted.”

“Lay a hand on me and I’ll gut you. So help me, I will.”

“Damn, you think highly of yourself. But don’t worry, lady. If I can’t pay for it, I don’t bother with it.”

“What is he talking about, Ma?” Jayce asked.

“Nothing, boy,” Tull said, and laughed. “You sure got some innocents, don’t you?”

“Leave them out of this.”

“Sure, lady. Sure. How about that coffee? I about froze riding here.”

Fargo took a risk. He moved his head enough to peer out.

The man called Tull was almost to the doorway. Of middling height and build, he wore a brown hat and cowhide vest. The hair that poked out from under the brown hat was black. On his right hip, in contrast to his rumpled clothes, gleamed the pearl grips of a nickel-plated Colt. He half turned in the doorway, revealing a lean face stamped with cruelty.

Fargo drew back before he was spotted.

Tull’s boots moved into the next room. He left the door open.

Now Fargo could hear what was being said. And from where he lay, he could also see a small part of the main room, including part of a table and a couple of oak chairs.

Tull took a seat, his back to the bedroom. “Hurry with that coffee, damn it. I need to warm my innards.”

“Please, Mr. Tull,” Mary said, bringing over a steaming cup with a saucer under it. “I keep asking you.” She walked off.

Tull took the cup and drained it in a few gulps. “Ahhh. That’s nice. Real nice. Give me another.” He shifted and stared at something Fargo couldn’t see. “What are you two looking at?”

“Nothing, sir,” Jayce said.

“Then quit staring.”

“We don’t get many visitors. Even your kind.”

“What the hell does that mean? Never mind. I think I know. That’s your ma talking.” Tull poked a thick finger in their direction. “I won’t warn you again. I don’t cotton to being stared at. Never have.”

Mary came back, carrying the coffeepot. “Since you insist on staying, you can at least be civil.”

“You’re a trial, lady. If you weren’t Cud’s woman, I’d get more riled than I am.”

“Where do you intend to sleep while you’re here?”

Tull stomped the floor with his left boot. “Right here will do. I’ve got my own bedroll, so I won’t put you out any.”

About to pour, Mary paused. “I won’t have you under the same roof with my children and myself. It’s not proper.”

Tull laughed. “What you want doesn’t count. It’s what Cud wants. And what Cud wants is for me to keep an eye on you until he gets here, proper or not proper.”

“Where am I going to go in the dead of winter with no horse and two children to look after?”

“It’s not that. It’s the Injuns. We struck redskin sign, and he’s worried they might pay you a visit.”

“They haven’t bothered us since my husband gave them one of our cows. Why would they harm us now?”

Tull shrugged, then waggled his empty cup. “Don’t ask me. I wouldn’t care if they helped themselves to that pretty hair of yours. I just do what Cud tells me. And since he said I stay, I stay. Now give me some more coffee, damn it.” Nelly moved between Fargo and the table. She was watching her mother and the outlaw and didn’t realize she was blocking Fargo’s view. He moved so he could see past her.

“What if I were to insist that you leave?” Mary was saying. “I’ll tell Cud it was my doing so he won’t be mad at you.”

“Don’t your ears work? I don’t do what you say. I do what Cud says. I’m here and I am staying. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll stop annoying me.”

Mary carried the pot out of Fargo’s sight. When she came back, she was holding a large towel over both of her hands. “What if I ask you to leave as a personal favor to me?”

“God Almighty,” Tull declared in disgust. “You’d make a great dog. You worry every bone.”

“ I’m a woman without a husband, and it wouldn’t do for me to have the likes of you staying under my roof. In a town it would create a scandal.”

“But we’re not
in
a town,” Tull said in rising exasperation. He cocked his head and gave her an intent scrutiny. “What are you up to?”

“I beg your pardon?”

BOOK: Beartooth Incident

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