Rimfire

by William W. Johnstone

  “Uh, no, we can’t do that,” Ace said, trying not to look embarrassed.

  “There is much space. This one can sleep on the floor. The rug is very soft.” She bounced a little on the balls of her feet as if to demonstrate.

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Chance assured her. “We have our own room, and it’s right across the hall if you need anything.”

  Ling shook her head in awe. “This one has never stayed in such a fine place.”

  “Not even in San Francisco or Denver?” asked Ace.

  “This one’s family in San Francisco lived in Chinatown. The quarters were very small and crowded. When this one’s father sold her because the family had too many mouths and not enough food, she went to live in a house where the rooms were also small and had nothing in them but a bed.” She’d been very matter of fact when she mentioned being sold by her father but looked down at the floor when she added, “That was all this one needed.”

  Ace and Chance glanced at each other. Ace already regretted asking her about her past. He sure wasn’t going to press her for any details.

  “Then Mr. Jack won this one in a poker game with the man who owned the house,” she went on anyway. “When she traveled with him to Denver and Omaha, this one always stayed in a small room, befitting her status as a servant.”

  “You mean he didn’t keep you on a tight rein all the time?” asked Chance. When Ling frowned in obvious confusion, he explained. “I mean, he didn’t make you stay close to him so he could keep an eye on you?”

  Ling shook her head solemnly.

  “Then why in blazes didn’t you run away?” he blurted out. “You must’ve had plenty of chances.”

  “A slave run away from her master?” Again Ling shook her head. “This one would not have known what to do if she were alone in the world.”

  That was difficult for Ace to comprehend. It seemed to him like almost anything would be better than being enslaved. However, he and Ling had been brought up in very different places. He couldn’t expect her to look at things the same way he did.

  “Well, you’re free now,” he told her. “And you don’t have to sleep on the floor. You’ve got your own room, and nobody’s going to bother you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Ace. This one will be forever in debt to you and Mr. Chance.”

  “You can forget about that,” Chance said gruffly. “You don’t owe us a blasted thing.”

  Ling looked like she might have argued about that, but Ace didn’t give her the opportunity. “We’ll go out and get something to eat in a little while. It looked like there’s a decent café across the street. You should try to get some rest. The way things have been changing all around you, you must be tired.”

  Ling smiled and nodded. “This one is weary,” she admitted.

  “We’ll see you later, then,” Ace said as he went to the room’s open door.

  Chance said, “If you need anything, just holler. I mean, shout. Call us.”

  She nodded. “This one will”—she looked around the room again—“but she does not see how she could ever need more than what she has right now!”

  * * *

  Once they were across the hall in their own room, Chance said, “After everything that girl’s gone through, there’s no way we can run out on her, Ace.”

  “Nobody said anything about running out on her. What we need to do is find her a job. A real job, not what she was doing back in San Francisco.”

  “Damn right. There’s bound to be a Chinese laundry in town. You hardly ever see a frontier settlement without one.”

  “She ought to be able to do better than that, as smart as she is. Maybe she could cook in one of the cafés or work for a seamstress or something like that. She could probably even clerk in a store if she got over talking the way she does.”

  “Yeah, we’re gonna have to work on that with her,” Chance said. “So, it seems pretty obvious that we’re going to be here in Fort Benton for a while.”

  “Reckon you’ll be able to stand it?”

  “Hey, I’m no more fiddle-footed than you are! Most of the time you’re the one who gets worried first about grass growing under your feet.”

  Ace chuckled. “Yeah, that’s probably true. In fact, why don’t we go downstairs right now and see if there’s anything happening in the lobby?”

  “You expecting anything?”

  “No . . . but you never know.”

  When they got to the lobby, however, it was empty except for the clerk dozing behind the counter and a man sitting in the corner reading a newspaper. Not a hint of anything exciting as far as the eye could see.

  Something about the way the man was holding his newspaper caught Ace’s attention. As he watched, the man lowered the paper slightly, glanced over it, then raised it again rather quickly to cover his face.

  Ace almost laughed out loud but nudged his brother and nodded toward the man in the corner. Chance frowned in puzzlement.

  Ace walked over to where the man was sitting in an overstuffed armchair. “You’re going to have a hard time getting out of that chair in a hurry if there’s any trouble, Deputy.”

  The man lowered the newspaper and glared at Ace. He was still in his twenties, a few years older than the Jensen brothers, and had a broad face that was flushed with embarrassment and annoyance at the moment. His hat was pushed back on fair hair that was already thinning despite his relative youth. The last time Ace and Chance had seen him, he had been ushering the three prisoners into the cell block.

  “I dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he said sullenly. “I’m just sittin’ here readin’ the paper.”

  “You mean Sheriff Maddox didn’t send you over here to keep an eye on us?” Ace asked.

  “No,” the deputy replied, but he didn’t sound convincing at all.

  Ace hooked a boot around one of the legs of a nearby chair, drew it closer, and sat down. “We’ll make it easy for you. We’ll just sit right here for a while.”

  “We sure will,” Chance added as he drew up a chair, too. Now that he had caught on to what was happening, a grin stretched across his face.

  The deputy looked like he was about to lose his temper, but then he let out a grunt of laughter. “You got me,” the star packer admitted as he folded the newspaper. “The sheriff figured it would be a good idea for somebody to keep tabs on you. He said he had a hunch the two of you attract trouble like moths to a flame.”

  “Hey, we’re peaceable men,” Chance objected.

  “Didn’t look like it to me earlier this morning. It looked like you were trying to whale the tar out of those no-account cowboys from Rimfire.”

  “Sheriff Maddox mentioned Rimfire,” said Ace as he stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. “I take it that’s the name of a settlement?”

  “Yeah, a little cattle town about thirty miles south of here, between the Highwoods and the Little Belts.”

  Ace recognized the names of two mountain ranges that became more common the farther west a person went in Montana Territory, all the way to the great spine of the continent formed by the Rockies.

  “It’s right on this side of the Chouteau County line, so it lies in our jurisdiction and we have to take a ride down there every now and then,” the deputy continued. “Don’t let the sheriff ever hear that I said this, but the real law in Rimfire and thereabouts is a man named Angus McPhee.”

  “The rancher Luther, Banjo, and Kiley ride for,” Ace guessed, remembering what the sheriff had said earlier.

  The deputy nodded. “That’s right. By the way, my name’s Ernie Calloway.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Ernie,” said Chance, “now that you’re not pointing a rifle at us.”

  “Hey, the sheriff might’ve wanted to arrest you. Better to have the drop on a fella if you’re fixin’ to try to throw him in jail, don’t you think?”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Ace agreed. “Go on about Rimfire.”

  Deputy Calloway frowned
slightly and asked, “How come you want to know?”

  “Just curious. We haven’t ever been there, that I recall.”

  “We might want to take a ride in that direction,” Chance added.

  “I don’t see why you’d want to do that,” Calloway said. “The range thereabouts is pretty good, but the town itself ain’t much to look at or speak of. Just one street that’ll choke you with dust in the summer and bog you down in the mud in the winter. McPhee owns most of the businesses, either outright or through loans, and he does what he pleases. That sticks in Sheriff Bud’s craw, but all he’s got is two full-time deputies and a couple part-timers to keep up with a big county. That ain’t near enough firepower to take on a salty crew like McPhee’s. Those three you tangled with—Ned Kiley, Luther Stebbins, and Banjo Doakes—they’re just about the bottom of the barrel when it comes to that bunch. I reckon some of ’em rode the lonely trails and heard the owl hoot plenty of times, but as long as they do the job McPhee pays ’em for, he don’t really care.”

  Chance said, “When your mouth gets wound up, it takes a while to run down, doesn’t it?”

  “I do like to talk. I’ll admit that,” said Calloway, nodding. “My ma was a talkin’ woman, Lord, was she, so I never got a chance to speak up much when I was a kid.”

  Ace said, “If this fella McPhee has such shady characters working for him, is he an outlaw himself?”

  Calloway pursed his lips for a second in thought, then said, “No, I reckon not. As far as I’ve ever heard, he built up his ranch—a spread called the Tartan—honest and aboveboard. Never known him to be accused of rustlin’ or anything like that. He just rides roughshod over anybody who happens to get in his way. Seems to figure that whole valley between those mountain ranges is his little kingdom.”

  Ace nodded. He and his brother had run across high-handed cattle barons like that before. It was best to steer clear of them if at all possible.

  Deputy Calloway opened his mouth to say something else, then stopped like that with his jaw sagging. He was looking at something on the other side of the lobby, and when Ace glanced in that direction, he saw what had transfixed the deputy’s gaze.

  Ling was coming down the stairs.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  She was a sight to behold.

  When she had said she had some spare clothes in her bag, Ace had assumed she meant more of the pajama-like garb she was wearing at the time.

  But she had changed from the loose white trousers and tunic into a tight-fitting dress of blue-green silk. Ornate designs of golden thread had been worked into the fabric here and there to decorate it. Ling’s long, glossy dark hair, which had been hanging loose earlier, was pulled back and fastened in wings on each side of her head by jade-colored combs.

  She was beautiful, no doubt about that. Ace, Chance, and Deputy Calloway were all staring at her, and even the clerk behind the desk was wide awake and watching.

  Ling stopped at the bottom of the stairs, rested one slim-fingered hand on the newel post where the banister started, and frowned in worry at the men. “Something is wrong with the way this one looks?”

  Calloway stood up in a hurry. The folded, forgotten newspaper fell at his feet. He swallowed. “No, ma’am. There’s not a thing wrong. About as far from it as you could get, in fact.”

  Ling shook her head. “This one does not understand.”

  Ace and Chance stood up as well and started toward her.

  Ace said, “He just means that you look fine, Ling.”

  “Mighty fine,” added Chance.

  She smiled again. “This one is pleased. This one did not want Mr. Chance and Mr. Ace to be ashamed of her.”

  “I don’t reckon that would ever be possible,” Chance told her.

  “You might be dressed a little fancy for Fort Benton, that’s all,” Ace said.

  Ling gestured up the stairs. “This one could put on the clothes she wore earlier . . .”

  “No, don’t do that,” exclaimed Calloway, then added sheepishly, “I mean, uh, no, you look fine just the way you are.”

  Ling smiled. “This one is pleased.”

  “Then we’re pleased, too,” Calloway said. “Ain’t that right, fellas?”

  “Pleased as punch,” Chance agreed.

  She came across the lobby toward them. Her stride didn’t seem to be deliberately sensuous, but the four men couldn’t help but watch her, anyway. She stopped a few feet short of them and looked intently at Calloway. “You are a lawman.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

  “Did the sheriff send you to arrest us?”

  “What? No! No, not at all. He just, uh, wanted me to make sure there was no more trouble. That those terrible cowboys didn’t come back to bother you again. That’s all.” He was making that up, of course.

  In fact, all three men knew that Sheriff Maddox had said Kiley, Stebbins, and Doakes would remain in custody to face charges of disturbing the peace.

  The story accomplished its purpose as the look of concern on Ling’s face disappeared. “Then you are here to protect us and watch over us.”

  Calloway nodded emphatically. “Yes, ma’am. That’s it.”

  “Like Buddha.”

  Calloway looked confused.

  Ace told him, “Never mind, Deputy. It would take too long to explain.”

  “We are going to eat,” Ling continued. “You must come with us, Deputy, since that is your job.”

  “Now hold on a minute—”

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s right,” Calloway interrupted Chance. “I’ll stick mighty close to you, and nobody’ll bother you the least little bit while I’m around.”

  Chance frowned. “That’s not necessary. My brother and I can take care of the lady just fine.”

  “No, sir. Orders is orders,” insisted Calloway.

  “Looks like we’re stuck with the deputy’s company,” Ace told his brother. “Might as well make the best of it.”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” Chance said with an obvious lack of enthusiasm for the idea.

  The four of them left the hotel and headed for Plummer’s Café across the street. Ling drew quite a few stares, which, considering her beauty and her colorful outfit, came as no surprise to Ace. No one accosted them, though, and soon they were sitting in the café with cups of coffee in front of them, waiting for plates of fried chicken, potatoes, and greens to arrive.

  The deputy’s talkative nature took a while to get started again, seeing as he was almost overcome with admiration for Ling, but once he started talking, he dominated the conversation. He told her all about the history of Fort Benton and delved into his personal history, explaining to her that he had left the family farm in Ohio and come to Montana Territory to prospect for a lucrative gold claim and make his fortune. When that plan hadn’t worked out, he had drifted into wearing a badge.

  “I probably could’ve picked up a ridin’ job on one of the spreads hereabouts, but I’m not really cut out to be a cowboy. I can’t stay in the saddle all day.”

  “So you’d rather ride a desk,” said Chance, drawing a quick glower from the deputy.

  “I feel like I’m doin’ some good, you know,” Calloway went on to Ling. “I mean by helpin’ people and enforcin’ law and order.”

  “You must be a fierce warrior,” she told him.

  “No, ma’am. Well, I mean, sure, when I have to be, when I need to corral some owlhoot or gunslinger. Mostly, I’m the gentle sort, when folks will let me be.”

  Chance rolled his eyes and looked away, muttering to himself under his breath. Ace tried not to chuckle at the way Ling was winding Ernie Calloway tightly around her little finger. Clearly, she knew how to get what she wanted out of men without even seeming to try.

  He needed to remember that for future reference, Ace told himself. It might come in handy.

  The food was typical cow country fare but it was good and there was plenty of it. Ling ate in a rather dainty fashion but still managed to put away quite a bit.

&nb
sp; As they neared the end of the meal, Chance said, “Seeing as how you’re here on official business, Deputy, maybe the sheriff’s office would see fit to pay the bill for all of us.”

  Calloway frowned. “I dunno about that. I reckon Sheriff Maddox wouldn’t go along with it.”

  Ace knew his brother was just giving Calloway trouble for horning in on their lunch. “We’ve got enough to take care of it.”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t want to do anything to interfere with the law,” Chance said.

  “I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Calloway blustered. He dug around in a pocket, found a five-dollar gold piece, and slapped it down on the table. “There. All taken care of. This is on me, Miss Ling.”

  That confirmed he was just trying to impress her.

  “You are very kind, Deputy Calloway,” she told him with a smile. “This one is in your debt, as well.”

  “Oh, no, ma’am. Not at all. I’m happy to do it.”

  The hooded glance he threw toward the Jensen brothers indicated that he wasn’t really all that happy with the way he’d been maneuvered in coughing up the money.

  However, Chance seemed quite pleased with himself. As they left the café, he asked, “Do you plan on hanging around all day, Deputy?”

  “I’ve got my orders,” Calloway said.

  Ace pointed across the street. “We’ll be at the hotel, then. Just so you’ll know. That ought to make it a little easier for you.”

  “Doesn’t matter whether it’s easy or hard. I’ve got my job to do, and I intend to do it.” Calloway hooked his thumbs in his gun belt and tried to look nonchalant yet vigilant, but then he suddenly stiffened as he turned his attention toward the riverfront.

  Ace looked in the same direction and saw half a dozen men striding toward them. One member of the group was out in front by several feet and carried himself as if he belonged there. He was a little above medium height and had very broad shoulders stretching a buckskin jacket. A brown hat was crammed down on a thatch of curly, reddish-gray hair. He wasn’t wearing a gun, but the five men following closely behind him were.