CHAPTER 40
Denny stepped out onto the porch. It was a clear, cool, beautiful day, and she was moved to take a deep breath of the fresh, invigorating air.
“Pretty as a picture,” Brice Rogers said from the rocking chair where he sat.
Denny jumped a little. “Don’t sneak up on a girl like that.”
“How could I sneak up on you? I was sitting right here. You just didn’t see me, that’s all.”
“Well, you’ll be fit enough to travel in a few more days, and then you can stop lurking around here.”
He still had a bandage around his head where Nick Creighton’s bullet had creased him, and his torso was wrapped up in bandages, too, a result of being shot by Turk Sanford. Neither of those outlaws would ever hurt anybody else. They were buried in cheap pine coffins in the potter’s field section of Big Rock’s cemetery, along with most of the other members of Creighton’s gang. The few who had survived were locked up in Monte Carson’s jail, awaiting trial.
“I reckon your father and uncle and cousins will all be glad to see me go, too,” Rogers said. “They seem to have the crazy notion that I’m interested in courting you.”
Denny snorted. “That’ll be the day. Even if you had a loco idea like that, it takes two for any courting to happen, you know.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Not going to happen.”
“Nope. I guess we did a pretty good job helping to bust up that gang of outlaws and killers, but that’s all it was.”
Rogers nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“You got anything else to say?”
“Not a thing.”
“All right, then,” Denny said. “Go ahead and sit there and heal up.” She went down the steps and walked toward the corral next to the barn. The buckskin saw her coming and tossed his head in welcome. Finding the horse lying on the ground after the battle had been a repeat of what had happened with Rogers. Denny had thought the buckskin was dead, but that turned out not to be the case. She didn’t know if he would ever be fit to ride again, but either way, he would live out his days on the Sugarloaf as an honored friend of the Jensen family.
She reached through the fence and stroked the horse’s sleek shoulder. He put his nose against her hand and nuzzled it. Denny laughed, content at that moment as she hadn’t been for quite awhile.
Several days had passed since the bloody, predawn showdown. Since then, Smoke had continued to recuperate. He was strong enough to have ridden up to the outlaws’ hideout with Matt, Ace, Chance, Sheriff Monte Carson, and a couple deputies. They had found the hidden basin deserted. Molly was gone, and there was no way of knowing where. When Creighton and the others hadn’t returned, she obviously decided they were all dead and had moved on. Likely, they would never see the woman again. That would be fine. Denny was grateful to Molly for keeping her secret, but the way things had worked out, it hadn’t mattered much.
They hadn’t found any remains of Muddy Malone among the rocks that had been scattered by the explosion, but that was no surprise, either. He had been too close to the blast to survive.
With things settled down on the Sugarloaf, Denny’s uncle and cousins would be moving on. Even though Matt, Ace, and Chance were middle-aged, well into the time of their lives when most men settled down, Denny didn’t expect that to happen any time soon. They were too fiddle-footed for that. Smoke Jensen, the fastest gun of them all, the daring adventurer of the frontier, was the only one of the bunch who had put down roots and surrounded himself with family and friends. There was a certain irony in that, Denny mused, but she was grateful things had worked out that way.
The clip-clop of hoofbeats made her look around. A lone rider was approaching the ranch headquarters, and after a moment she recognized Monte Carson and hoped it wasn’t more trouble bringing the sheriff out there.
She gave the buckskin a final pat and then walked over to meet the lawman. “Hello, Sheriff,” she said with a smile. “What brings you out here today?”
Monte nodded toward the porch. “I’ve got a telegram for your friend over yonder.”
“My friend?” Denny said. “Oh, you mean Deputy Marshal Rogers.”
“Yeah.” Monte dismounted and led his horse toward the house as Denny walked with him.
Rogers gave him a friendly greeting as well. “How’s everything in town?”
“Quiet . . . for now. I know better than to expect it’ll stay that way for too long, though.” Monte took the folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it out. “Got a wire for you. Fella at the telegraph office had it sent over to me, and I figured I’d better bring it out to you.”
Frowning, Rogers took the telegram and unfolded it. He glanced at the signature and said, “It’s from the chief marshal.” He read for a moment, then looked up and went on. “Do you know what this says, Sheriff ?”
“I didn’t read it, but I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Monte said. “I got one from Marshal Horton, too. Sort of a professional courtesy, I reckon. He didn’t have to ask my permission to assign you to this area permanently.”
“What?” Denny said. “You’re going to be staying in Big Rock?”
“I suppose I’ll make that my headquarters,” Rogers said, “but my job could take me anywhere in these parts.”
“So you’re not going back to Denver?”
“Not for the time being, anyway.” He smiled. “Reckon you can put up with me?”
“It doesn’t look like I’ll have any choice in the matter,” Denny said, glaring. “But it doesn’t really matter to me one way or the other. I’m going to be too busy to pay attention to whether you’re around or not.”
“Busy doing what?”
“Learning how to run this ranch.”
“You’re going to replace Smoke Jensen?”
“Nobody could ever replace Smoke Jensen,” she said. “There’s only one of him and only one ever will be.”
“That’s what I figured.”
“But there’s only one Denny Jensen, too, and I’m just getting started! Which means that you’d better just stay out of my way, mister.”
“Happy to . . . as long as you stay out of the way of me doing my job!”
Neither of them noticed that Monte Carson had chuckled and gone on into the house. Nor did they see the two people watching them through the parlor window, Sally with a slightly concerned expression on her face, Smoke grinning so big with pride he looked like he was fit to bust.