CHAPTER 12
After starting the race, Smoke went back to the ranch house’s front porch where he found that Sally had come out of the house and joined Louis and Brad there.
“How’s Melanie doing?” Smoke asked his wife.
“She’s fine,” Sally replied. “Very nervous and excited, of course.”
“But she’s not getting cold feet,” Louis added. “I’m very happy about that.”
Brad frowned, looked up at him, and asked, “Why would her feet get cold? The weather’s warm, and she’s wearing shoes, isn’t she?”
Sally laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s just a figure of speech, Brad. It means that someone who’s about to get married decides not to.”
“Well, she’d better not,” declared the boy. “I know she’s my ma and all, but she’d be a durned fool to back out now.”
Smoke couldn’t help but chuckle, which drew a faint look of disapproval from Sally. He patted Brad’s other shoulder and said, “Don’t worry. Your ma’s a smart woman.”
“I always thought so.”
Sally turned to Smoke and went on. “There’s one thing that has me a little worried, though. Denise isn’t up in Melanie’s room. Melanie said she hasn’t seen her all day. Where could she be, Smoke?”
“I don’t know, but I’m betting she’ll turn up soon.”
Smoke was telling the truth about that. He didn’t know exactly where Denny was, right that minute, but he had a hunch she would be around again . . . when the horse race was over.
“I’m always a little concerned when someone’s not where they’re supposed to be. I mean, she could have been kidnapped or something. You know how many enemies you have, Smoke.”
“I know, but I don’t think any of them would be bold enough to try staging a kidnapping in the middle of this many people.”
Louis said, “This crowd might actually be a good cover for some sort of nefarious activity—”
“You’re not helping, son,” Smoke said.
Before the discussion of Denny’s whereabouts could continue, one of the guests shouted, “Here they come!”
Other enthusiastic cries went up as the leading riders in the race thundered back toward the starting line, which had become the finish line. Smoke, Sally, Louis, and Brad turned to watch. They would have a good view of the race’s conclusion from the porch, and it was liable to be a thrilling one.
As the riders came into sight, Smoke noted that several in the lead were neck and neck, leaning forward in their saddles and straining to get that last little bit of speed out of their mounts, that extra push that would gain them the victory. Crowds of spectators lined both sides of the course as well as being gathered well beyond the finish line so the horses would have plenty of room to stop. Some of the Sugarloaf hands who weren’t taking part in the race had been charged with keeping the course clear and guests out of harm’s way.
The horses charged down the final stretch. A couple faltered, having reached the last of their strength. Three surged ahead, two chestnuts and a roan. At the very last second, the roan extended to a seemingly impossible length and beat the other two animals by a nose. A huge cheer went up as the victor and the other horses right behind swept across the finish line.
Smoke joined in the applause for the winner, but a slight frown creased his forehead. He had expected to see a black mustang among the leaders with a familiar figure in the saddle, but there was no sign of such a horse—or rider. He waited as more of the racers arrived at the finish line and joined the crowd milling around but still didn’t see who he was expecting to see.
A faint worry began to nag at him. He had been convinced that Denny had slipped out of the house early, spirited Rocket out of the barn, and planned to ride the mustang in the race, probably disguising herself as a cowboy in order to do it without being discovered. He knew that was exactly the sort of thing his headstrong daughter would do.
Calvin Woods came to the bottom of the porch steps and lifted his voice above the hubbub to say, “I need to talk to you for a minute, Smoke.”
“Trouble?” Smoke asked. He knew his foreman quite well and could see the concern in Cal’s eyes.
Cal shook his head “Probably not. Just something that needs to be looked into.”
Smoke went down the steps and gave Cal a nod. “Go ahead.”
“Some of the fellas who were in the race are saying that a couple of horses went off the course out by Elephant Butte. Said that one of them looked like it might’ve been a runaway, and the fella on the other horse went after it trying to help.”
“There’s some rough country out there,” Smoke said as his frown deepened.
“I know. A runaway could fall or even go sailing off into one of those gullies. I was thinking I could take Pearlie and go have a look, just in case somebody needs a hand.”
“I’ll come with you—” Smoke began.
“No need for you to do that,” Cal said. “This is a big day, and you need to spend it here with your family. If there’s a problem, Pearlie and I can take care of it.”
Smoke knew that was true, but what Cal didn’t know was that if Smoke’s hunch was right, part of his family might be out there by Elephant Butte, maybe hurt or even worse.
Smoke drew in a breath. He wasn’t going to allow himself to think that. Cal was right. Sally was liable to be upset if he stampeded off like he wanted to. He forced himself to nod and say, “All right, you and Pearlie go check it out. Just let me know what you find.”
“Sure, Smoke.”
Cal started to turn away, but Smoke stopped him. “Those fellas who were talking about the runaway . . . did they describe the horse?”
“Not to me,” Cal answered.
Smoke nodded again and waved him on.
“What was that about?” Sally asked when Smoke had gone back up the steps to the porch.
“Nothing to worry about,” Smoke said, hoping he was right.
The minutes dragged by while Smoke waited for Cal and Pearlie to return with news.
He was a little distracted by everything else that was going on, including the moment when the young cowboy who had won the race was brought over and introduced to him.
“Name’s Jim Gale, Mr. Jensen,” the man said as he shook hands with Smoke. “It’s a plumb pleasure to meet you.”
“Same here, Jim,” said Smoke as he managed to put his worry over Denny aside for a moment. “That roan of yours is mighty fast.”
“Yes, sir, he sure is.”
“If you happen to be looking for a riding job . . .”
“I’m obliged to you, sir,” the young man said, “but I have a spread of my own up at the far end of the valley. Got some beeves but raise mostly horses.”
Smoke clapped a hand on Gale’s shoulder. “If that roan is an example of the sort of stock you raise, son, you’re going to do just fine. In fact, next time you’re ready to sell some off, come and see me first. I’ll pay you a good price.”
Gale grinned. “I’ll sure do that, Mr. Jensen.”
With his hand still on Gale’s shoulder, Smoke turned the cowboy to face the crowd and said, “Let’s hear it for him, folks! The big winner!”
Whoops, whistles, and shouts filled the air.
“Everyone keep on enjoying your visit,” Smoke went on. “We’ll be having the wedding ceremony in a little while, and then all the food will be brought out and ready a short time after that.”
As the crowd in front of the ranch house broke up somewhat, Sally came to Smoke’s side “It’s all going well, isn’t it?”
“So far,” Smoke agreed, even though he wasn’t completely convinced of that. He kept glancing in the direction of Elephant Butte, even though he couldn’t see the rock formation from where he was. After several more minutes, he stiffened as he caught sight of a familiar rider. He had no trouble recognizing how Cal sat the saddle.
Someone was riding double with Cal. As Smoke caught a glimpse of sunlight on thick blond hair over the foreman’s shoulder, he felt relief wash through him, followed by a sense of vindication that his hunch had been right.
He looked past Cal and spotted Pearlie riding about fifty yards behind, also with a second rider. Pearlie was leading two horses, a nondescript buckskin—and the sleek black devil of a mustang called Rocket.
Sally’s hand suddenly tightened on his arm. “Smoke, is that Denny riding with Cal?”
“It sure is,” he replied, and now that he could tell Denny appeared to be all right, he was looking forward to hearing what she had to say for herself.