CHAPTER 38
PSR Ranch
Janey tossed and turned in the comfortable bed, deep in the grip of a nightmare. The events in her dream weren’t bizarre, frightening fantasies. They were memories of a day back home in Missouri.
She’d been leading on an older boy in school. He caught her in the barn and started tearing her clothes off. He would have raped her, no doubt about that, but her brother Kirby came along and interrupted it. He managed to put a stop to it and chased the boy away. Kirby, already tall and strong and fearless . . .
With a gasp, Janey awakened from her dream and sat up in bed with her heart pounding. That was why Buck West had looked so familiar to her. She knew who he really was.
Buck West was her brother Kirby.
Buck West was Smoke Jensen.
She knew that, for some reason, Richards and the other two were terrified of the mysterious Smoke Jensen, but despite the last name, she had never connected their nemesis with Kirby. She didn’t know when he had taken the name Smoke but she was sure he was calling himself Buck West in order to keep his identity a secret from Richards and the others.
Should she tell them?
No. She had already told Richards that Buck West was trouble, and he had dismissed her warning. As far as she was concerned, Richards and the others were on their own.
She rolled over and went back to sleep.
Bury
Having tea with Flora in the parlor of the Pink House the next day, Janey asked, “Have you heard of a man named Buck West?”
“Are you kidding? Who in town hasn’t heard of him? Why do you ask?”
“I must see him. Do you think you could get a message to him to meet me here?”
“I suppose I could. He’s been hanging around Sally for the last few days.”
Janey smiled. “Good. I think she would be very good for him.”
“What?” Flora asked with a frown. “What do you mean?”
“Please, just get him to come here. But don’t tell him who he’s coming to see. Oh, and maybe you had better bring Sally, too.” Janey took a deep breath. “She needs to hear what I’m going to say.”
* * *
“I hope you’ve got some coffee to drink,” Smoke said as he stood in the foyer of the Pink House with his hat in his hand and Sally beside him. “All this lady has been giving me is tea, and tea has no taste at all.”
“What? Why haven’t you told me?” Sally asked.
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“Then why did you say something like that to Flora?”
Smoke didn’t hesitate with his answer. “Well, it won’t be hurting her feelings if I ask for coffee.”
Flora laughed and looked at Sally. “I’m sure that makes perfect sense to a man. Go on into the parlor, both of you. There’s someone there who wants to talk to you.”
In the parlor, Smoke and Sally saw a woman standing in front of the window, looking out. Even though her back was to them, both recognized her at once.
“Janey, how nice to see you,” Sally said.
Janey turned around. “Hello, Kirby.”
“Hello, sis.”
Sally gasped in surprise and took a step back to allow Smoke and Janey a small bit of privacy.
“When did you figure out who I was?” Smoke asked.
“I knew the first time I saw you, that I had seen you before. It just took me a while to place it. Remember, you were only fourteen last time I saw you. I didn’t know if you or Pa or Luke were alive or dead.”
“Pa’s dead,” Smoke said. “Luke is, too, as far as I know.”
Janey nodded. She didn’t seem surprised by the news.
“Janey, I’m told you are hooked up with Richards.”
She nodded. “I was. I’m not anymore. I’m leaving today.” She had come to that decision in the middle of the night, and it was like a giant weight off her shoulders. The time had come to put the whole PSR part of her life behind her, just as she had other parts and times in the past . . . when things were too painful to bear or even think of.
Smoke nodded. “I’m glad.”
“Why are you after them? I know all three of them are crooked as a dog’s leg, but why are you, specifically, after them?”
“They’re the ones who shot Luke, back in the war, and they’re the ones who killed Pa.”
“Oh!” Janey gasped. “They killed . . . both of them?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know that.” Her face and voice showed the anguish she felt.
“Janey, what happened to you? How did you . . .”
“I make no apologies, Kirby. I was a young woman . . . no, I was a girl, really, and you may recall that I was left on my own. I made my way as best as I could. I don’t ask for your understanding . . . or your forgiveness.”
“Sis, both of us have been through some hard times. I make no judgments. Believe me, with all the things I’ve done, I have no right. I understand perfectly, and there is nothing to forgive.”
Janey’s eyes glistened with tears. “I’m leaving today, but I’m glad I had the opportunity to see you again.” She opened her arms, and Smoke drew her to him, hugging her tightly.
Her eyes weren’t the only ones glistening with tears. Sally . . . and Flora, who had followed her and Smoke into the parlor . . . were crying, as well.
Janey walked out to her carriage, where her black driver, Mr. Jefferies, sat in the driver’s seat, waiting patiently for her. She looked at him and asked, “Mr. Jefferies, if you had this carriage and team in a place like Denver, do you think you could find some way to make a living with it?”
“Yes, ma’am, I expect a body could make a good livin’ hirin’ out to folks who wanted to go somewhere in an elegant carriage like this.”
She nodded and climbed into the carriage. “Take me to the depot, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After leaving the Pink House, Sally and Smoke strolled through the town and out to Canyon Creek where they sat on the bank and watched and listened to the whisper of the quietly flowing stream.
“You recognized Janey the first day you saw her, didn’t you?” Sally said.
“Yes.”
“That was why you had the strange look in your eyes.”
“I have to confess that I haven’t had good thoughts about her all these years. I guess I wasn’t being fair. Like she said, she was a girl of no more than sixteen last time I saw her. I have no right to pass judgment on her.”
“Janey and Flora are my friends. There are people in town who pass judgment on me for that.”
“I don’t,” Smoke said with a broad smile. “I can’t think of anything you might do that would give me pause.”
“Not even this?” Leaning toward him, Sally kissed him.
“Especially not that,” Smoke replied after their lips parted.
“I must keep reminding myself that I’m a lady.” The twinkle in her eyes told him that while a lady she might be, there were a lot of hot coals banked within. “Smoke?”
“Yes?”
“Tell me about Smoke Jensen.”
Sally listened attentively for a full ten minutes, not interrupting, letting him tell his story his way. When he had finished, she sat quietly for a moment, mentally digesting all she had heard.
“And to think that I actually worked for those creatures.” She hurled a small stone into the water. “Well, I shall tender my resignation immediately, of course.”
Smoke’s smile was hard. “Stick around, Sally. The show is just about to begin.”
“You do know, don’t you, Smoke, that I am quite fond of you?”
“I hope so. ’Cause Lord knows, I feel that way about you.”
Just as their lips touched, a voice came from behind them. “Now if that ain’t ’bout the most disgustin’ thing? I mean, a great big, full-growed man a moonin’ and a sparkin’ like some kid. It’s plumb disgustin’, I tell you.”
Smoke pulled away quickly. “Preacher!”
“We got to make some plans,” Preacher said after Smoke had introduced him to Sally.
“What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t figure I was gonna let you take on Richards and his men all by yourself, did you? I got Lobo, Beartooth, Greybull, Pugh, Deadlead, and Powder Pete camped just outta town. I figure the eight of us, countin’ you, ought to be able to handle things all right.”
Smoke laughed. “Yeah, I would think so. How did you find me, anyway?”
“Hell’s fire, boy! I just followed the bodies! Can’t you keep them guns of yours in leather?”
“Come on, Preacher! Tell the truth. I know you would rather lie, but try hard.”
“I didn’t have to find you, I been followin’ you for a coon’s age.” Preacher looked over at Sally. “Do you see how unrespectful he is, missy? Can’t a pretty thing like you do no better than the likes o’ this fella?”
“I’m going to change him,” Sally said primly.
Preacher grinned. “Ha. I’d love to see that. Smoke ain’t easy to change.”
Smoke frowned. “You had better get used to calling me Buck, Preacher. You might slip up in town and that would be the end of it.”
“I ain’t going into town. Not until you get ready to make your move, that is. When things is about to happen, we’ll be there.” Preacher looked at Sally. “You look after this boy now, you hear me?”
Sally smiled and looked at Smoke. “Oh, I intend to, Mr. Preacher. I’ll be looking after him from now on.”
Preacher mounted his horse, and with a nod to the two of them, rode off.
“I like your friend,” Sally said. “He is the old man you were talking about when you told me your story, isn’t he?”
“Yes, and when he dies it will be the end of the old mountain men, the end of an era.”
“No it won’t, Smoke,” Sally said. “Not as long as you’re around.”
On the train to Denver
Janey Jensen rode comfortably in the Wagner Palace Car. Elam Jefferies was on the same train, but in a different car. He had a huge smile on his face. In one pocket was one hundred and fifty dollars in cash. In another pocket was the signed deed to an elegant Brewster Brougham and a team of matched, Andalusian horses.