“Hell, Red,” Sharp said lightly, “that’s news enough. It means we’re still workin’ the plan. That damn Ute might enter our store at any moment.”
“Bad plan.”
“Why?” Sharp demanded.
“Indian might go to another shop or already have what he needs for a short trip into the mountains.”
I jumped in. “No other shops cater to Indians, and our prices are the lowest. If he needs supplies, he’ll come here. Besides, he’ll probably need a pencil and paper.”
“Maybe … maybe not.”
Sharp shook his head. “Got any better ideas?”
“I’m encamped on that hill. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Figured out which one yet?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Then we got two ways to know if he leaves,” I offered.
Red shrugged. He obviously didn’t care for my scheme.
“Are you ready to ride?” he asked.
“Everything’s already at the livery,” I said.
Red walked to the stove and poured himself a cup of boiling coffee. We both watched him gulp it down as if it were cold. Then he snapped the empty cup on the counter and walked toward the door. With his hand on the latch, he said, “If you got any more stock in the back, haul it forward and spread it around. You look like you’re goin’ out of business.”
“Any other words of advice?” Sharp asked.
“Nope, but your coffee tastes like bull piss.”
“Wouldn’t know,” Sharp answered. “Never tasted bull piss.”
The doorbell tinkled as Red opened and closed the door on his way out. We stood there for a second and then both burst out laughing.
Chapter 36
The next day, Bob Grant sauntered into the store. I was alone because Sharp had gone to the bakery to buy a loaf of bread for lunch, the boys were exercising our horses again, and it was Mrs. Baker’s day off. We hadn’t seen Grant since that dinner when he had met with McAllen. I felt uneasy about his visit, although I was glad our supplies had arrived, and we looked like a prosperous enterprise.
After glancing around a bit, he walked over to where I stood and leaned against the counter. “How’s business?”
“Better each day,” I responded casually.
“Seen the captain?”
“No. And it’s just Joseph McAllen now. He quit the Pinkertons.”
“Rejoined, I hear.” He gave me a queer look. “Thought you were friends?”
“He was in my employ once. My partner’s known him for years, but he says McAllen keeps to himself these days.”
“You friendly with other people in town?”
I didn’t like that question. “Only Jeff Sharp.”
“Mrs. Bolton?” he asked, with an arched eyebrow and menacing grin.
I used a rag to wipe the counter. “She slipped my mind.”
“You haven’t slipped hers.”
Where was this leading? I decided to take a cue from Red and remained silent.
After Grant saw that I wasn’t going to respond, he added, “I’m surprised to find a man of your talents tending a general store. I’d heard about that Durango killing, but I didn’t know about your gunplay in Nevada until Mrs. Bolton told me.”
I remained quiet and continued to wear what I hoped was a blank expression.
Grant leaned all the way over the counter until he rested on his forearms. “Don’t worry, I’m not in cahoots with that old battle-axe.” He winked. “She asked, but I got my own plans.”
“Glad to hear it. Otherwise, I’d have to shoot you where you stand.”
Grant jerked upright and looked a bit frightened. “I’m unarmed. That’d be murder.”
I pulled my gun and cocked it in his face. I tilted my head to the side as if contemplating whether to shoot him. After a moment, I said evenly, “I got plenty of guns under the counter. One of them would be fired and warm in your hand by the time the law showed up.”
He stared down the gun barrel as if he could dodge the bullet if he saw it coming. “You’d never be able to explain why I’d come after you, a known gunfighter.”
“I don’t know
why
, some damn feud with McAllen, I suppose. You probably thought I was on his side.”
He finally met my eyes, but his voice was a bit shaky. “Are you?”
I slowly holstered my Colt while I kept my eyes riveted on his. “If I was, I’d have shot you. Now, get the hell out of my store.”
Grant visibly relaxed. “Shooting me wouldn’t be doing McAllen a service. We’re partners.”
“Great for you. Now, get out … and when you see Mrs. Bolton, tell her you’ve reconsidered, and you won’t be doing her bidding.”
“I already told you I said no to her.”
I drew my gun again, but this time I laid it carefully on the counter. “For your sake, you better not be lying. I’ve killed a lot of men, and adding you to the list wouldn’t bother me in the least.”
“I’m not lying … I’m partnered with McAllen, not Mrs. Bolton.”
“I don’t give a shit about McAllen, but if I see you with Bolton or hear about you talking to her, I’ll find you and I’ll kill you. And don’t try to wear McAllen like some kind of damn shield. He’s Sharp’s friend, not mine … and lately he hasn’t been too friendly to Sharp either.”
Grant turned his back to me and nearly sprinted out of my shop.
Had I handled this situation properly? I wasn’t sure. Grant took me by surprise, and I had gone with my instincts. He sure didn’t come in to tell me he had turned Mrs. Bolton down. Bat Masterson had warned me, but Grant didn’t have scruples. He had another purpose, and putting my cocked gun in his face diverted him from where he had wanted to take the conversation. The tactic had left me in the dark, but my threat had, I hoped, convinced him that Sharp and I were no longer connected to McAllen. Although he might have bought my attempt to jigger the truth, I reminded myself that the man was clever as hell.
A little later, Sharp returned with a loaf of bread and a block of cheese as I was bundling in brown paper two pairs of Levi’s, two shirts, and four pairs of socks for a customer. The boys came right behind, out of breath, jostling each other to see who got through the door first. Before leaving for the bakery, Sharp had done his magic with a can of beans, so we had enough food to feed the four of us.
As we ate, I told Sharp about Grant. He guessed that, despite what Grant said, he might be weighing the offer from Mrs. Bolton and had come in to size me up. If so, he thought my aggressive response might dissuade him from partnering with her. I certainly hoped so.
Close to seven in the evening, I sent the boys home. We were about to close, when a mean-looking Indian came into the store. I hadn’t noticed him at first because I had been in the back getting the stove and coffeepot ready for the morning. As I walked up front, my heart pumped faster when I spotted Sharp and this Indian in some kind of staring duel.
“Can I help you?” Sharp finally asked, with a challenging edge.
“Thought you was prospectin’ in the hills.”
“Ya beat on me in front of the only guides willing to leave town in autumn … ya kinda discouraged ’em.”
The Indian returned to staring. When he spoke again, his tone said he was not joking. “I don’t like you.”
“I gathered,” Sharp retorted.
For an instant, the Indian looked confused by Sharp’s lack of curiosity about why he didn’t like him. “Perhaps you didn’t gather well enough. You’re still hangin’ around.”
Without a word, Sharp ripped off his apron and marched around the counter. “Perhaps ya’d like to try again. This time I’ll see ya comin’.”
Another damn staring duel, but before I could intervene, the Indian simply said, “Not today. Got things to do.”
“Ya got money? If not, get outta my store.”
The Indian slid a double eagle onto the counter. “Will that do, storekeep?”
“What’d ya need?”
“Canned food, coffee, blankets, matches … four blankets.”
“Any particular canned food?” Sharp asked.
“Beans and fruit. Any kind of fruit. Twenty-eight cans of beans, fourteen cans of fruit.”
“Cornmeal, flour, sugar? Dried meats?”
“I’ll get corn and meat from my people. Got no use for sugar. Get me twenty feet of rope and fish hooks.”
I stepped up to the counter. “Jeff, you round up the supplies, and I’ll tot up the numbers.” I turned toward the Indian after getting Sharp out of the way. I pointed at the gold coin with my pen. “That may not be enough.”
He decided to try his skill at staring with me. After winning the contest, he said, “I got more. Get me what I asked.”
I nodded. “Need a hand carrying?”
“No. I’ll make two trips.”
“One of my boys can bring the goods up in the morning. No charge … other than a small tip, of course.”
“You don’t listen good, do you?”
I feigned indifference. “Make two trips then, but we close at seven. If you haven’t returned by then for the second load, you’ll find the rest of your order stacked inside the door in the morning.”
“You wait. I need those goods first light.”
I stared now. After I thought I had made my point, I said, “Don’t dally, or you’ll find the door locked.”
“If I find the door locked, I’ll burn this store to the ground.”
“No, you won’t. The law’s probably already looking for an excuse to lock you up.” A subtle flinch told me that I was right. I hesitated. “We’ll wait a reasonable time, but I have an important dinner engagement.”
“Go. I’ll deal with your shopkeeper.”
“That’s my partner … and you can’t come in here when either of us is alone. Ever. You beat Mr. Sharp for no reason. Now you can do business in this store only if both of us are present.” I let my right hand drop alongside my Colt. “We wear guns. If you enter this store and see only one of us, stay by the door until the other can come out front. Otherwise, we shoot.” Another pause. “
Do
you understand?”
“I ought to kill you for talking like that.”
“You got that backwards, you son of a bitch. I ought to kill you for beating my friend. And before you do something foolish, ask around about me. Now, move back toward the door until we gather up your order.”
“You ask around about me, shopkeeper. I’ve killed men with a knife—men that thought they were good with a gun.”
I told myself to get control of my emotions. If we were right, this Indian wasn’t going to take this challenge too far, because he had been given a mission. We also weren’t going to start a fight with him, because for our plan to work, we needed him to complete that mission. It occurred to me that I had threatened two men today. With Grant it was mostly theater, but I had almost lost it completely with this Indian. In both cases, I had used my reputation—a reputation I told myself was an accident of circumstances. I needed to think about that. Civilized men don’t normally get into verbal spats that end in gunplay.
I pointed toward the door and, controlling my voice, said, “That’s why I want you by the door. A knife’s as dangerous as a gun at arm’s length.”
The Indian glared and then sniffed dismissively. I felt relief when he walked over to the door and leaned against the wall with both arms crossed against his chest. He yelled out, “Add a pencil to my order.”
“Paper?”
He stared at me and then ripped a handbill off the wall by the door. “This’ll do.”
In a few minutes, Sharp returned with an armload of food and sundries. He dropped them on the counter and immediately returned to the back of the store. After two more trips, he said, “That’s it. I’ll be back in a minute with a couple of boxes.”
By the time I had totted up the merchandise, Sharp had returned with two sturdy wood crates for the supplies.
I waved the Indian over and said, “That’ll be twenty-three fifty, plus a dollar deposit for the boxes.”
Without a word, he reached under his coat and withdrew another double eagle. He slid it onto the counter and then hefted the heavier of the two boxes and started toward the door.
“Wait, your change,” I yelled.
Without breaking stride, he yelled back, “When I return. I’ll be bringing this box back, so have sixteen dollars ready.”
After he left, Sharp said, “That’s an educated Indian. I wonder what made him so angry.”
“I’m not sure I care. Nothing we can do to make his anger go away.” I looked at Sharp. “He’s leaving at first light.”
“Yep, an’ he thinks this whole affair will be over in two weeks.”
“Two weeks?”
“That Indian’s got a handle on ’rithmetic, an’ he wanted twenty-eight cans of beans an’ fourteen cans of fruit. Two cans of beans an’ one can of fruit per day. Two weeks.”
I thought a moment. “Is that enough food for two?”
“Don’t know. Depends on how much fresh an’ dried meat Bane’s got. He’ll catch fish too.”
“Jeff, he ripped a Tabor Opera House handbill off the wall.”
“So?”
“It went up yesterday. If Maggie writes her note on the back side, it’ll prove she’s alive as much as her pen hand.”
“She’s alive. Otherwise they wouldn’t agree to get a note from her.”
“But once they’ve given us the letter, do they have any reason to keep her alive?”
Sharp took a long time answering. “My bet is Bane can live in those mountains all winter with nothin’ from this store. Those supplies are for McAllen’s daughter.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Sharp looked at the door and then back to me. “Steve, they’ll kill her. I’m just guessin’ about the timin’.”
As soon as the Indian returned for the second box and his change, we locked up and headed directly for the stable. It took about an hour to make certain that we were prepared to leave in the morning. I had been arranging my saddle and gear outside Chestnut’s stall when I jumped at discovering Red standing directly behind me.
“Damn,” I said with an exhale of breath.
“The captain has instructions,” Red said, ignoring my surprise. “We don’t grab his daughter until after Raven has left for Leadville with the letter. He wants the robbery plans to go forward. We take his daughter to the Inter-Laken and hand her over for safekeeping to a couple named Schmidt.”
Sharp stood up from his work and walked over to us. “Raven the name of my Indian friend?”
“Yes.”
“Who’re the couple?” Sharp asked.
“Pinkertons.”
Red turned to leave. “Be ready by seven. We give Raven at least an hour start.”