The Broken Bow, page 26
“Like your horse?” Farley said.
“Yes,” Trusty said, “like Buddy. He’s a start, but I got a long way to go.”
Chapter 27
Cannonball, Dakota Territory, December 1888
Brazos Joe was standing outside the door of the trading post when Trusty and Farley rode up. “Well, if I hadn’t seen it with my own damn eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it,” the trader said, stroking his scraggly beard. Like the last time that Trusty had been through Cannonball, the only show of a weapon on Brazos Joe’s buckskin outfit was the ever-present thirteen-inch Bowie knife that hung sheathed on his hip. At the moment, even that looked unneeded with the big smile he wore on his face.
Trusty returned the smile as he rode up to the trading post, dismounted, tied Buddy to the hitching post, then made his way to Brazos Joe and gave him a hearty shake of the hand. “It’s good to see you, too, old man,” Trusty said.
“I figured you’d be dead by now, but I underestimated you.” Brazos Joe looked around Trusty and eyed Jonah Farley with a little more suspicion than Trusty might have expected. “I see you’re not travelin’ alone these days.”
Farley tied up his horse and joined the two. “Jonah Farley,” he said, extending his hand for a shake. “Nice to make your acquaintance.”
Brazos Joe shook Farley’s hand then pulled it back. “You sure we ain’t never met before? You look familiar.”
The comment didn’t seem to bother Farley. He didn’t miss a beat with his reply. “A lot of folks tell me that. Must be my round belly and round face. Seems pretty common in these parts.”
“I suppose so,” Brazos Joe said. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Mister Farley.”
“Farley’ll do.”
“Well, come on inside both of you and warm up by the stove.” Brazos Joe spun around and headed inside the trading post without another word. Both men followed.
The place was exactly the same as it had been the first time Trusty had walked in the door. Goods and supplies packed from the floor to the ceiling. Brazos Joe navigated the narrow aisles like he could do it with his eyes closed and headed behind the counter where he planted himself in his usual spot.
Trusty and Farley were like loyal dogs, following, doing what they were told.
“Either of you in need of a shot of whiskey?” Joe said.
Trusty shook his head, while Farley nodded his.
“I’ll pass,” Trusty said.
Brazos Joe reached under the counter and pulled up a bottle of amber liquid filled halfway. “You sure?” he said with an unconscious lick of the lips.
“Positive,” Trusty said.
“Well, I guess it’s just me and my new friend here.” Brazos Joe set about pouring two glasses of whiskey, a finger each to start, then shoved one toward Farley. “Where do you hail from?”
Farley had the glass almost to his lips and went ahead and tipped the whiskey back before answering. He shook off the burn in his throat. “I was reared in Minnesota, but like most men out this way, I’ve been here and there and back again. Fort Yates has been my domicile for a number of years now, before that I trapped out Yellowstone way, spent some time in California lookin’ for my treasure. One adventure after another until now.”
Brazos Joe digested every word Farley said, turning them over in his mind to see if there was any untruth underneath them. Trusty knew the look on the old man’s face because that’s exactly what he had done with him the first time they’d met.
“I got something for you, Trusty,” Brazos Joe said. He swigged down the whiskey without one ounce of discomfort then disappeared into the room behind the counter.
“You’d think a man who sells goods for a livin’ might be a little more friendly,” Farley said. “He looked at me like I’d robbed a bank he owned.”
“I wouldn’t think nothin’ of it,” Trusty said, even though he found Brazos Joe’s reception of Farley a little odd himself.
Joe came back carrying a quilted blanket made of rags and cut up clothes all sewed together. “Here you go,” he said, handing the blanket to Trusty. “That’s the first one of those my wife made with that Singer sewing machine that you left behind for her. She said it took her a quarter of the time and she sure is grateful. All the women in Cannonball are jealous and have lined up to learn how to use the darned thing.”
Trusty accepted the blanket with half a smile. “Thanks, I’m glad she could use it. What did you do with the rest?”
“Like you said would happen, some men from the Singer company came along asking for the inventory and took off down the road. They was salesmen, too, so I’d imagine they’d been knockin’ on one soddie door after the other pushing their wares. Good for them. I’d rather stand under a roof.”
“Your wife does fine work,” Trusty said.
“You can tell her yourself at supper. You are stayin’ aren’t you?”
Trusty nodded again. “For the night, if you don’t mind. We’ll head out first thing in the mornin’ for Bismarck. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can get on with my life.”
Farley stood back and listened but stayed out of the conversation. He was comfortable after the shot of whiskey.
“I don’t get your meanin’, Trusty,” Brazos Joe said.
“I’m givin’ up the badge,” he said, surprised as both men that he’d said it. If he was ever going to have a life like him and Farley talked about, he knew he had to go and find Theodore Marberry and the baby girl and put an end to the bounty once and for all. He wasn’t going to ride side saddle with a guardian for the rest of his life. “I got a life out there somewhere and I aim to go get it. I figure I owe Marshal Delaney and the service an explanation face to face. Then after that, I’m on my own. No offense to you, Farley, but I’ve ridden alone most all of my life, and I ain’t lookin’ to change that now.”
“No offense taken,” Farley said.
All Brazos Joe could do was nod. “Well, I heard tell there’s more trouble comin’ your way. I could tell you’re the type of man who meets things like that head on, so I’m not surprised.”
“What kind of trouble?” Trusty asked.
Brazos Joe poured another whiskey in a clean glass and pushed it toward Trusty. “That bounty that’s on your head has been tripled. Your life’s worth three thousand silvers now.”
* * *
Brazos Joe insisted that Trusty and Farley sleep inside the living quarters of the trading post. And, Joe, being married to a Sioux woman, was more than a gracious host, knowing the ways of treating guests in the Indian world, offering Trusty his own bed—which Trusty declined. He was more comfortable in the stable alone with Buddy, next to a stove, on a bed of straw, his buffalo blanket, and the new quilt that had been gifted to him. Farley chose to stay under a roof and sleep in a real bed. The truth of the matter was, Trusty wanted to spend some time alone and chew on the decision he had made. He didn’t want anyone put to threat because of his presence, either, not with the bounty being raised like it had been.
The barn was just as warm as a house, and it wasn’t long before he was comfortable and asleep. But the sleep, no matter how deep, didn’t last long. It felt like he had been asleep for only a minute when he heard the slow cock of a hammer on a gun and felt a cold steel barrel pressed against his temple.
“You move an inch, Dawson, and I’ll pull the trigger right now.”
Trusty opened his eyes, though he didn’t need to see the man to know who was doing the talking. It was Farley.
“Now, I want you to stand up, and walk out of the barn. I’m gonna keep my gun in your back, so don’t get any stupid ideas like callin’ out for help from your friend in there. You’ll be dead before his feet hit the ground out of the bed. You and me are gonna take us a long walk, and when we’re far enough out, that’ll be the end of you.”
Trusty didn’t move. “Why now, Farley?”
“I didn’t know you was worth three thousand silvers is why. You have to ask? That kind of money can change any man’s life. I’ve killed men for a lot less, and so have you. Don’t be so surprised. It ain’t nothin’ personal. I liked you well enough, but I like the idea of that money more.”
“I didn’t have you pegged for that kind of man.”
“Most men don’t get the opportunity to find out if they’re made that way, now do they? Faced with government wages for the rest of their life, or a life in poverty of one type or another, most men just accept their lot in life and live in misery. Life don’t offer too many second chances, so when one comes along a man like me has to take it and see how far it’ll go. Your life is a chance at a new life for me, Trusty Dawson.”
Trusty saw a shadow move behind Farley and he hoped like hell it was Brazos Joe come to back him up. “All right, I’m gonna stand up slow and easy. Don’t get itchy.”
“Make it slow and keep your hands where I can see them.”
Trusty had hung his gun belt next to the stable gate along with his knife. He didn’t have any kind of weapons on him. “I have to take this blanket off me, then I’m gonna put my hands out to the side and bring my knees to my chest then I’ll stand up. I don’t want you to misunderstand a simple move I make. My weapons are over there.” Trusty nodded to the post with his gun belt.
Farley glanced at the Colt in its holster, then said, “I ain’t going to kill you here, Dawson, don’t you fret none about that. Last thing I want to do is tangle with that Brazos Joe fella and bring down half of the reservation on my tail. I can’t outrun a hundred Indians and I ain’t going to try.”
“You’ve got this all thought out, don’t you?”
“I do.” Farley was proud of himself.
Trusty moved from under the blanket, then put his arms out and pulled his knees up under his belly just like he said he was going to. Instead of standing up, though, he swiveled his hips, came up on his side, and swept his right leg out, catching Farley unaware behind the knees with all of the effort he could muster. The blow popped Farley’s feet out from under him and he fell backward. He hit the ground with a thud and his gun, a Colt, too, went flying into the darkness beyond the stall.
Trusty didn’t take time to ponder his next move. He jumped up like a maniacal frog and landed on Farley’s ample chest with his knee, knocking the air out of the man’s lungs. A crack of bone, most likely a rib, came before a groan, distant but the damage assured. Restraining the man was going to be a feat, so Trusty punched Farley in the face with both fists, pummeling him into submission.
In the throes of his attack, Trusty got lost in his own rage, in the anger created by the existence of the bounty and the cause of it. He was tired of paying the price over and over again for one mistake. But he had forgot one simple thing. It was foolish to underestimate an injured and angry bull.
Farley used all his might to push himself up off the floor, sending Trusty flying across the stall. He hit the post hard with the back of his head, sending a new kind of pain through every inch of his body. There was no stopping Farley. His face was bloodied, his nose angled sideways from its normal place, and his breathing was labored, a struggle. His ears were red with rage and blood, and he spit out teeth as he lumbered toward Trusty, pulling his knife from its sheath on his waist.
Trusty was no match for the man, half in and half out of consciousness. He saw two of Farley and couldn’t get his legs to move fast enough to scurry out of the way. There was nowhere to go.
“Stop right there, Farley, if that be your real name.” It was Brazos Joe. The command was followed by a twin cock of a ten-gauge Wm. Moore & Co. double-barreled shotgun.
Farley was no fool. He stopped, allowing Trusty to skitter to the corner of the stall.
“This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you, old man. You’d be wise to mind your own business.”
“Your business is done here,” Brazos Joe said. “I ain’t in no mood to see a man killed in my barn, especially considerin’ I’ve been as hospitable as I’ve been. Drop the knife and you and I will have no problem. Once you do that, then you’re gonna get on your horse and ride out of here. Head south and not stop until you’re off Indian land. You try to double back, and you’ll wear an arrow in your shirt where your heart is. You understand what I’m sayin’ to you?”
“My gear’s inside,” Farley said.
Brazos Joe didn’t flinch, didn’t move a muscle, kept Farley in his sights. “Your gear is my gear now. Consider it payment for my troubles. Now drop the knife and go before I change my mind and shoot you.”
“My coat . . .” Farley protested.
“You should have thought about that before allowin’ your stupidity and greed to get the best of you.”
“I’ll freeze to death,” Farley said as he dropped the knife to the floor. It clanged, then went silent. All of the horses and other animals in the barn were quiet as the mice watching.
“There are worse ways to die. Now go.” Brazos Joe tipped the barrels, encouraging Farley not to linger any longer.
Trusty watched Farley go as his vision settled into singular focus. He wanted to tell the man that if he ever saw him again, he’d arrest him on the spot. But as he thought about it, Farley probably wasn’t going to make it off the reservation alive.
Chapter 28
Cannonball, Dakota Territory, December 1888
“There’s no way I can get you to change your mind, Dawson?” Brazos Joe said, standing outside of the trading post. The weather had turned gray, windy, with the promise of a fierce cold pushing down from the north. “It’ll be Christmas on the morrow.”
Trusty shook his head no, glanced over to the Catholic mission with nary a candle burning in the window, then looked up to the troubled sky. At least the sun wouldn’t be so bright that it would sting his eyes; his head was still throbbing from the hit on the post he’d taken the night before. He was lucky that post hadn’t killed him. The only sign of Farley was a set of horse tracks heading south off the reservation, just like they were supposed to. Something told him that Jonah Farley was a dead man. He hoped he would never know what happened to the greedy man. The betrayal still stung. There was no getting used to such a thing, but the regularity of it had made him suspicious of every man’s heart and motives.
“It’s time I put an end to this bounty business,” Trusty said to Brazos Joe. “My luck’s gonna run out one of these days. I can’t count on men like you to come to my rescue every time I’m in a lurch, every time a trusted man turns on me.”
“Ain’t no such thing as a trusted man in the world you’re livin’ in, is there, Trusty Dawson?”
“I gave you a fair amount of leeway with my life,” Trusty said. “I wouldn’t be standin’ here if it wasn’t for you.”
“You’re a fool then.” Brazos Joe let a serious look settle on his face. “You don’t think I considered takin’ a turn at the bounty, ’specially when I heard it was tripled? Money can bring a man a lot of comfort, change the scenery from cold to warm, set him on a fresh start, give him security of not starvin’ to death. But you’re lucky. A man like me has already had the bad luck of more fresh starts than he can count, and I learned the price of comfort and change is higher in the end than it looks at the outset. I have everything I want right here and now. It might not look like much, but I know what to expect, where my head’s gonna lay at night and who it’s gonna lay with. I sleep easy, but that ain’t always been the case. I know what it’s like to sleep with one eye open, waitin’ for someone to come along and take everything you’ve got. I don’t need change to make me feel alive. But I thought about that bounty, I sure did. It’s a lot of money for a second’s worth of work pullin’ a trigger. Don’t kid yourself, Dawson, every man and woman is human and has to bat down greed when the opportunity to dance with it comes along. You’re a nice feller, but that don’t mean on a bad day I might have come to a different conclusion and killed you when I had the chance.”
“That’s not much of an argument to keep me here.”
“I suppose it’s not. You’re right. If you think you know how to end this thing, then you best get on with it, no matter whether it’s Christmas or not.”
Trusty went over and shook Brazo Joe’s hand. “Thanks for everything and tell your wife I appreciate that blanket. You know if I was more of a curious sort, I would question if you really had a wife. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of a woman either time I’ve been in Cannonball. Now that I think about it, you’re the only man I’ve seen, too.”
Brazos Joe finished shaking Trusty’s hand, then said, “She’s shy. All of them Sioux are around the likes of you. They got eyes on you, though. And they will have until you leave the reservation. The gift of the sewing machine earned you their respect and the way you treated Charlie Littlefoot guaranteed you their protection. They’ll do their best to keep you alive while you’re on Indian land, but you’re on your own after that.”
* * *
Trusty stayed the course on the known trail, went north the same way he had come south. Buddy, who he still called Horse every once in a while, walked head-long into the wind that the troubled clouds promised to bring. The temperature jumped up and down, and the precipitation danced between rain, snow, and sleet, making the way to his resignation harder than he had hoped it would be.
It didn’t take long with darkness threatening to come even earlier than it usually did for Trusty to find a spot to pitch camp. The riverbank offered thin patches of spindly trees, and enough dried sticks and branches on the ground to build both a fire and a lean-to. Brazos Joe had sent some fresh jerky along for the ride, if Trusty couldn’t rustle up a dinner of jackrabbit stew. Luck had favored him, though, when it had come to dinner. Not with a rabbit but a weasel. The meat was tough, but it was fresh. Farley had promised him that he could make a weasel taste good. Farley turned out to be a weasel himself, and Trusty still had a bad taste in his mouth from the encounter.
Halfway through the night, the weather and wind calmed, and Trusty woke up with the need to relieve himself. The sky above him was free of clouds, and the stars and half-moon shined brightly overhead. The snow on the ground reflected the light, making it easy to see where he was going, and beyond, out in the world, white in the middle of the night, calm and peaceful. If what Brazos Joe had told him was true, then there were eyes on him from somewhere, watching over him, allowing for a rare night’s sleep alone without worry—for once. That seemed like the best Christmas present he could have asked for.
