Much Ado About Mavericks (16 page)

Jake pulled an extra pair of longjohns out of her saddlebag and tossed them to Henry.  “Here, put these on and go to bed.  That’s your first order as a cowhand on the Bar EL.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Teddy giggled from his bedroll.  “You’re in trouble now.  Ain’t no one what can get away with calling Jake a ma’am.”

Henry glared at Jake.  “Yes, sir.”

Chuckling, Jake said, “That’s better.  Now, git!”

So much for the new stray’s first lesson, Ben thought.  But no matter how much Jake wanted to keep Henry--and Pokie and Trick--he had sworn to uphold the law.  As soon as they got the water in the creek flowing freely again, he’d find out where the girl’s mother lived and pay her a visit.

*   *   *   *   *

Jake woke to a horrible smell.  She plugged her nose and sat up.  Henry.  That girl couldn’t have had more than two baths in her whole life.  Careful not to wake her, Jake inched out of the bedroll.  Hell, by now, she stank as bad as the stray.

Jake went to the creek and washed her hands and face, but the smell was in her clothes and there was no help for that until they got back home.  After she set the coffee pot to boil, Whip stirred, groaned, and got out of bed.

He stretched and yawned.  “I’m too damned old for this business.”  He rolled and tied his blankets.  “You go study that there rock.  I’ll burn some pancakes and rouse these lazy yahoos.”

“Careful of the new stray.  She’s a might skittish, yet.”  Jake took a shovel and headed to the creek.  Why she carried the shovel, she had no idea.  The easiest thing to do would be to blast the boulder into smithereens, then shovel out a path for the creek bed.  She whacked the rock with the shovel, then went back to camp.

“Whip, I want you to take everyone back to the Bar EL after breakfast.”  She poured a cup of coffee and blew on it.  “Send ten men back--only hard workers.  Each one of ‘em needs a shovel, so you might have to go to town and buy some more.  And bring some money—ten dollars oughta be enough.  Tell Mabel we need to hire someone to help us.”

He smiled a bit at the mention of Mabel’s name.  “Aren’t you coming along?”

“Naw, I’m headed up the creek to the mining camp and hire me a powder monkey.  Gonna blow that sonuvabitchin’ rock all to hell.”

“Busty Birdie ain’t there.”  Henry rubbed her eyes and stuck her lip out poutily.

Ben sat beside Jake, one eyebrow raised.  She hadn’t even heard him get up, so he caught her unawares.  “You’re certain of that?” he asked the girl.

“Yup.  So you don’t need to go there.”

Jake patted the girl on the head, noting that the first order of business was to clean up the little urchin.  “Don’t you worry none, Henry.  You’re headed for the Bar EL, and you’ll be bunking with me at the Circle J.  You’re a cowhand now.”

Henry jumped and squealed.  Jake supposed that little girls did such things, although she sure couldn’t remember doing anything so silly when she was young.  Teddy and Homer would need to do some getting used to Henry--and they probably wouldn’t like it. 

By that time, everyone had awakened and Jake told them to get packed up so they could ride to the ranch as soon as breakfast was over.  “Tell Suzanne to scrub this kid good,” she called out to Whip as they left.

Ben stayed back, much to her dismay.  “Mining camps can be rough place
s
.  I’m going with you.”

Slapping her thigh, she groaned.  “Skunk turds and snake spit!  Can’t you do any damned thing you’re told?”
 
That smirk needed to be slapped off his face. 

“No.”  He got up and set to straightening up his bedroll.

“Go with me then,
Boston
.
”
 

“My pleasure, madam,” he said with a sweeping bow.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Just stay the hell out of my way.”

Chapter 8

The ride up the mountain to the mining camp took over an hour.  Ben amused himself by acting like the perfect gentlemen, all the while watching Jake
fight to decide whether she was frustrated of flattered.

When they arrived at the camp, Ben hopped off his horse and offered to assist her dismount.  As he figured she would, she
swatted
his
hand away.  “Oh, for God’s sake!”  He chuckled over her indignation and stepped back as she
slid
off her mount
, scowling
.

“Howdy there!” she hollered at a sweaty old man hauling a bag of beans over his shoulder.  “Nice set up you got here.” 

The place looked like hell, Ben thought, but he figured she was sweetening him up a bit.

The man grunted.  “We ain’t got no work for you.  Already got one whore.”

She gasped, and Ben grabbed her arm so she couldn’t take after the old coot.

A hollow eyed, half-dressed floozy stepped out of the tent and jammed her hands on her hips.  “That’s right, honey.  I take care of my men right nice.”

Throwing the sack of beans to the ground, the old man sneered at Jake.  “Told ya.”  He doffed his hat at the whore.  “Be ready.  Soon’s these beans are cooking, I’ll be over.”

“Not till you pay the dollar you owe me for last time.  I don’t do freebies.”  She spun back into her tent, pulling the flap in after her.

Ben held his amusement in check.  Judging by the storm in her eyes, Jake was still in a huff.  One slip of a chuckle and he’d be in big trouble.

“Are you done yet, you horny old goat?” she yelled.  “I come to find a powder monkey.”

“You ain’t a whore?”

“Does a whore need a powder monkey?”

“Busty Birdie does.  She don’t care who pokes her.”

Jake tackled the man and wrenched his arm behind his back before Ben could take two steps.  “Listen here, pigshit,” she growled, “I’m here looking for a powder monkey.”  She wrenched a little harder and the man groaned.  “I ain’t interested in you or your dirty whores.  Got it?”  She pulled again and he hollered in pain.  “Got it?” she repeated.

“Yes!”

“Yes what?”  She kneed him in the back.

“Yes, ma’am!”

She kneed him again.  “Yes, what?”

“Yes, uh, uh . . .”

Ben winced every time she yanked on the poor sucker’s arm.  “Try ‘sir’.”

Wild-eyed, he yelled, “Yes,
sir
!”

She released his arm and got up, brushing her hands together.  “Now, are we gonna talk, or are you as stupid as you look?”  She kicked his filthy, floppy hat to him.

He crawled to his knees, picked up the hat and jammed it on crooked, then stood, still shaking.  “What d’ya want?” he muttered.

“That’s better.  Now, this here’s a mining camp, right?”

He nodded.

“And miners blow up rocks, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And them folks is called ‘powder monkeys,’ right?”

He grimaced, but nodded again while backing up a step.  Ben didn’t blame the fellow for keeping his distance.  Jake could be difficult when riled.

“So where the hell’s the powder monkey?  I wanna talk to him.”

The man looked blank, then his gaze darted from side to side.

Jake took a threatening step toward him, and the old fellow backed up.  “Well?”  She rubbed her hands together.  “I’m not a patient person, bucko.”

“Uh.”  He picked up the bag of beans and slung it over his shoulder again.  “I gotta get supper on.”

Puffing out her cheeks, she blew out a low whistle.  “All right, come suppertime, you tell your powder monkey that Jake O’Keefe wants to see him.  And I got twenty bucks just for talking.”  

Ben felt a tug on his arm.  The whore, smelling of vanilla over sweat and man smell, stood there, batting her eyelashes at him.  “It’s a long time till supper, big boy.  How about a poke?”

Jake whirled toward them.  “You leave him alone, whore!”

“Oh,” she said as she backed away.  “He’s your man, huh?”

“No, he is
not
.”  Jake sounded adamant, but looked confused.

With an idea that the whore might know of Henry’s mother, Ben said, “I might like to have a little talk with the pretty lady.”  He winked, and Jake’s face turned red.  He hustled the soiled dove into the tent before Jake could get hold of him.  Not cowardly, he told himself, just smart.

“It’ll be a dollar,” she announced, throwing her shawl on the bed and untying the string that held her dress on.

“I just want to talk with you a while.”  He took his hat off, but the ragged tent didn’t exactly qualify as indoors.

“Talk, poke, whatever.  It’s all a dollar.”

Ben shrugged, then dug a dollar out of his pocket and threw it on the rickety little table beside the bed.  “Sit down.  And keep your clothes on.”

She sent him a skeptical look, but sat and patted the spot on the bed beside her.  “You can sit here, big boy.  We can talk better if we’re a little closer.”

And burn my nose out from the smell
.  “No, I’ll stand, thanks.”

She took a deep breath and smacked her lips.  “Well, I’d like to run my tongue down your belly and lick your . . .”

“Never mind that,” he interrupted, half disgusted, half sympathetic to her plight.  “Do you know Busty Birdie?”

She giggled.  “Why, I sure as hell do!”

Now he was getting somewhere.  “Where does she live?”

“I’ll tell you for another dollar.”

“You’ll tell me right now, or I’ll let Jake at you.”  An idle threat, but the only one he could think of.  If Henrietta had lived in a situation similar to this, he could certainly see why she had run away.

Eyes wide, and back stiffened, she asked, “What do you want her for?”

Should he say?  He opted for the only language whores knew.  “I owe her some money.  Now where is she?” 

“Money?”  She smiled a “come on” and thrust her breasts at him.  “Why, what on earth do you owe her money for?”

“That’s between Busty Birdie and me.  Now, where is she?”

“And you owe her money.”

“That’s what I said.”

“How much?”

He leaned on the bedpost.  “That’s between her and me.”

“How can you owe her money if you don’t even know what she looks like?”

Ben wondered just how much he should tell her.  Might as well be truthful--that’s probably the only thing she wouldn’t believe.  “I talked with her daughter.”

“Her daugher?”

Nodding, he added, “Henrietta.”

Her shoulders sagged.  “Poor little shit.”

“You know her?”

She grimaced.  “Yeah, I’m Busty Birdie.  Henrietta’s been missing for two days.”  Looking up, she asked, “She with you?”

“No, but I know where she is.”

“She can’t come back here.”

Ben agreed, but what kind of mother would not want her child back?  Jake was right, although he’d damn well never tell her that.  “We’ll keep the girl.”  He threw a twenty on the table on top of the dollar.  “That’s for her pony.”

She grabbed the money and stuffed it down her dress. 

“I’ll bring adoption papers in a day or two.”

After she nodded, he ducked out of the tent.  Before he’d gone ten feet, she yelled, “You’ll take good care of her?”

“She’ll have the best.”

*   *   *   *   *

Jake smoldered as she took a gulp of the bitter beer the dirty old cook had given her.  Damn that
Boston
lawyer!  He might think himself smart, but his brain was in his pecker, just like any other jerk.  What nerve to poke a whore while he should’ve been helping her.  After all, didn’t he say that she shouldn’t go alone because mining camps were rough places?

She slugged down the rest of the beer and slammed the mug on the plank table.

  The cook eyed her warily.  “We don’t got many mugs.”

“Sorry,” she said with a shrug.

Boston
came in whistling, making her all the hotter.  “My business is done.”  He sent her a crooked grin as he sat beside her.

Her hands clinched, itching to do some sore damage to that smiling face of his.  “I just bet it is.”

“Mister,” he called to the cook.  “I got a hundred dollars that says you can’t blow a boulder out of Jump Creek and get the water flowing freely by tomorrow night.”

The scraggly man tossed his dishtowel in a bucket.  “Double or nothing.”  He walked to Ben and offered his hand.

“You’re on.”  Ben shook on it.  Deal Done.

Jake was near to busting a gut.  How the hell could he get the slimy bastard to agree to blow the boulder with just one sentence?  And clear the damned creek, too.  If she’d known that, she wouldn’t have told Whip to bring half the Bar El hands.  They needed to be getting ready for roundup.

“Drink on it?”

“Sure, and how about one for the lady, too.”

The man nodded.  “Two coming up.  But she ain’t like no lady I ever seen.”