Luke and Jug exchanged looks of disappointment, but they knew they were not likely to get a better price anywhere else, so they followed Axel out the back flap of his office tent to the long rows of storage tents and the weighing station. “You weren’t jokin’ when you said you had a lot of ’em, were you?” Axel remarked when he saw the string of packhorses waiting there.
“We weren’t jokin’ when we said they were prime beaver fur, either,” Luke answered.
It didn’t take long for Axel to realize they had not exaggerated when touting the quality of their pelts. Each pack of sixty pelts he opened was as high in quality as the one before it. Axel was truly impressed. “By Ned, you boys landed in a hot spot. I don’t reckon there’s any chance you’d care to say where the hell you were trapping.”
“There’s two chances,” Jug replied quickly, “slim and none.”
It took some time, since the pelts were many and they weighed heavy. When they were all finished, Axel made out the bill of sale and accompanied them to the cashier’s wagon where they received their money. “It was a pleasure doin’ business with you fellows,” Axel said. “I hope to see more of what you brought in next year.” They shook hands and Jug started rounding up their horses.
Luke lingered a moment to ask a question. “Do you know if there’s a preacher here at the rendezvous this year?”
The question took Axel by surprise. “A preacher?” He exclaimed loud enough for one of the men hauling the pelts to the warehouse tents to hear him. “I don’t think so, Luke.”
“There is one, Axel,” the man loading the pelts spoke out. “I couldn’t help overhearin’. I don’t know what kinda preacher you’re lookin’ for. But he’s a Mormon. Got him a little alter-like setup in his wagon. He was preachin’ sermons down in Cache Valley, and he said he was comin’ to the rendezvous.”
“Have you seen him since we got here?” Axel asked. The man said that he hadn’t. “Well, there you go, Luke. Maybe you can find him. A man preachin’ out of a wagon oughta be easy to find.”
“’Preciate it,” Luke said to Axel and nodded his thanks to his helper, then he went to help Jug take care of the horses. They led their small herd of horses back to their camp by the river and released the tired animals to graze and drink water. Then they sat down on the ground and counted out the money to split fifty-fifty.
“Now, I’m ready to go visit with the boys at Red’s,” Jug announced. “I need a shot of likker so bad, I’m a-feared I’m gonna turn to pure rust inside my gut.” When Luke didn’t respond in similar fashion, he asked, “You ready?”
“You go on ahead,” Luke said, “and I’ll be along directly.”
“Why?” Jug asked, not sure anything could be more important at this particular moment. “Whatchu gonna do?”
“Well, it took a little longer to grade all our plews than I thought it would,” Luke answered with some reluctance. “I was thinkin’ about Willow waitin’ back here all that time. She ain’t ever been to a rendezvous before. I expect she mighta been a little bit scared when we left her alone right at the start.” When he said that, they both turned and looked at the little Indian woman, kneeling by the fire, but looking toward them and the horses. “I kinda hate to leave her alone again and go off to the saloon. We really ain’t set up our camp yet. I oughta at least do that first.”
Jug looked at a loss for a couple of minutes as he considered the situation. He had grown awful fond of the little Crow woman over the winter, even encouraged Luke to take a romantic interest in her. Now, he wondered if that might have been a mistake. It looked like his young partner might be getting tangled up in the little lady’s web. The first thought of any mountain man on the first day back to rendezvous oughta be a drink with the boys who made it back. Finally, he suggested, “Hell, bring her with you. There’ll most likely be some other women there.”
“You think I oughta take her with us and set her down with the whores that work the saloons?” Luke asked, pointedly.
“No, I reckon not,” Jug replied. “Red might not allow Injuns in his saloon, anyway.” Then he had another thought. “We can take her to The Chinaman’s for supper. She oughta like that.” Luke was hesitating again, but Jug didn’t give him a chance to argue. “Chinaman usually feeds everybody on one table, but I bet for a dollar more, he’d set the three of us up at that little table he uses when the big table fills up. Be like our own little private party. She could set there in one of his rockin’ chairs out front and wait for us to go have ourselves a drink with the fellers.”
“I’ll see what she says,” Luke told him. “I ain’t ready to leave her here by herself till she gets to feelin’ safe.” He promptly went to her to see her response to the idea. He was surprised when she told him she would enjoy eating at The Chinaman’s. When he told Jug she agreed to it, he suggested that he should go on ahead and make the arrangements with Lee Wong. Luke said he would also have time for a drink or two before he and Willow got there. “I gotta make one stop by the American Fur store on the way. Then we’ll be right there for supper.”
“All right,” Jug replied, happily. “Where’s my jug? I’ll get right over and set it up with Lee Wong. He’s gonna be tickled to see me again.” He didn’t waste another second before picking up his empty jug and heading out. He was thinking that maybe he had time for more than a couple of drinks before he went to The Chinaman’s for supper.
“I look okay to you?” Willow asked when he led their two horses up to the partially finished tipi.
“Pretty as a picture,” he answered. It occurred to him then. “I need to buy you a mirror, don’t I?” He hadn’t thought of it before. He guessed she had used her reflection in the stream for a looking glass. “We’ll pick one up for you tomorrow when we buy all the other supplies we’re out of. I’m just gonna make one quick stop on our way to supper tonight, though.” He lifted her up on her horse, then climbed up on Smoke, and they rode directly to the store. When they got there, she remained in the saddle. He held his hands up for her. “Come on, I need to have you with me.”
“Howdy, Luke,” John Dean sang out cheerfully. “Axel told me you and your partner had brought in the best-lookin’ lot of furs he’s seen in a long time. I hope he gave you good money for ’em.”
“Howdy, John,” Luke returned. John had been clerking in the company store for as long as Luke had been with American Fur. “I think he did the best he could for us.” Luke turned aside so John could see Willow, who was standing behind him. “This is Willow. I need a ring to fit her finger.” It would have been difficult to decide who was the more surprised when he said that, John or Willow.
“What?” John responded. “Oh,” he recovered. “Well, I oughta be able to fix you up. I’ve got plenty of rings.”
“I ain’t lookin’ for any of your cheap trade rings,” Luke said. “I’m lookin’ for a weddin’ ring. I know you don’t carry any expensive jewelry, but you might have something like a plain silver band.”
“Right,” John recovered, “I think I can find you just the right thing.” He went to a corner cabinet, on top of which were a couple of large wire hoops, filled with cheap rings of all kinds and colors. He opened a drawer, pulled out a heavy cloth pouch, and returned to the counter. “This might be what you have in mind,” he said as he opened the pouch and exposed two rows of silver rings. One row was plain, the other had a faint design. “Will one of these do?” Willow’s eyes were answer enough for Luke, and he nodded to John. “You just have to start tryin’ ’em on till you get the one that fits your finger,” he said to her.
She looked first at Luke for his permission. “Go ahead,” he told her. “Pick the one you want.” She hovered over them for a few moments as if they might fly away if she touched them. Finally, she tried one on her forefinger and Luke shook his head. “Un-uh, you wear it on this finger.” He touched the ring finger of her left hand.
She quickly pulled it off and put it on her ring finger. It was too big, so she tried two more before s
ettling for the second one. She admired it for a couple of minutes, then started to take it off. “Cost too much,” she said.
Luke caught her hand and stopped her. He looked at John. “How much?”
“We have to get twelve dollars for those rings,” John answered. “They’re pure silver.”
Back to Willow again, his hand still holding hers. “You like it?”
She nodded her head vigorously and said, “It’s beautiful,” in the Crow tongue. Then, using Luke and Jug’s terminology she said in English, “It shines.”
He smiled at her and released her hand. “You can’t ever take it off.”
“I never take it off,” she responded.
While Luke counted out twelve dollars, John looked from one of them to the other. “I didn’t know you had taken a wife, Luke.”
“I ain’t stood up in front of a preacher yet,” Luke said. “That ring is my promise that I’m goin’ to, just as soon as I can find a preacher to make it legal.”
John almost made the mistake of asking why he would bother waiting for a preacher. Quite a few of the mountain men he knew had taken Indian wives. He didn’t know of any that had actually made the union legal under the law. Instead, he said, “Well, let me wish you both the best of happiness.” He paused, then said, “You know, there’s a Mormon fellow drivin’ around here in a wagon, who says he’s a preacher.”
“Yeah, I heard about him. I hope we run across him.” He gave Willow a reassuring grin and declared, “We’ll find him.”
“Whatever you say. I be your wife,” she responded happily.
“That sounds like a good start for a weddin’,” John Dean commented. “Reckon you’ll find out how long that’ll last before it’s whatever I say.” He chuckled good-naturedly.
“I reckon,” Luke said and winked at Willow.
Chapter 22
“Luke Ransom!” Lee Wong greeted them when Luke and Willow entered the huge tent the Chinaman had erected this year. “Come in, come in. Jug Sartain tell me you bring your special lady to The Chinaman’s to eat. I fix small table for you, so you not be disturbed by noisy guests. You follow, please.” He led them past the long table of heavy eaters to a table barely big enough to seat four, but just right for this occasion. When they were seated, Lee Wong asked, “You eat now, or you wait for Jug?”
“We’ll go ahead and eat,” Luke said. “There ain’t no tellin’ when Jug will show up, once he gets to drinkin’ with that crowd of trappers. I want you to bring the lady a cup of tea, but I want coffee.” He had to capture her attention, for her eyes were as big as saucers as she looked all around her. “Is that all right with you?” He asked her. She said nothing but nodded her head excitedly.
Lee Wong was back to the table very quickly with two plates of food. A tiny Chinese woman came with him, carrying Willow’s tea and Luke’s coffee. She smiled shyly at Willow as she poured her tea in a China cup and motioned toward a small sugar bowl beside it. “Sugar for your tea,” Luke said when Willow looked puzzled. He motioned for her to put some in her tea. Lee Wong told them the name of the entrée he served them, but Luke had no idea what it was, just that it was good eating and Willow seemed to enjoy it as well.
The young man with an Indian woman did not go unnoticed by the collection of trappers and hunters at the long table. There were a few comments that brought some chuckles, but none loud enough to give cause for offense, not even noticeable to the young couple, in fact. One of the diners found special interest in the couple, however. He made no comment, but Lonnie Johnson did not take his eyes off the couple, as he stuffed his mouth with Lee Wong’s special of the day. Wait till ol’ Bloodworth hears about this, he thought. The object of his attention was seated with his back toward the long table, unaware that Lonnie was there.
They were finished with their supper and having more tea and coffee when Jug finally made his appearance. It was obvious that the little man was more than a little unsteady on his feet as he stumbled back to join them. “I swear,” he blurted as he plopped down in a chair, “I’ve drank a little too much on an empty stomach. I need to get some food in my belly.”
“I reckon,” Luke said. “You ain’t lookin’ too good—a little green around the gills.”
“We got to drinkin’ and I swear I almost emptied my jug before I realized how much I’d had,” Jug confessed painfully. “You folks ready to eat?”
“We’ve already finished our supper,” Luke replied. “It was mighty good, too. Weren’t it, Willow?” She murmured a soft yum-yum and nodded. Grinning at Jug’s distress, Luke looked at Willow and said, “Firewater.”
“Firewater,” she repeated. “No good for you.”
At that moment, Lee Wong brought a plate heaped up with food and placed it on the table in front of Jug. Jug took a deep whiff of the steaming mixture of vegetables and meat and backed away from it immediately, knocking his chair over in the process. Holding both hands over his mouth, he stumbled toward the entrance and disappeared outside. Willow was immediately concerned. “We need to go to him?” She asked, obviously afraid he was in danger of dying. “He look very bad.”
“He’s just gonna heave up some of that rot-gut he’s been drinkin’. If you’re through with your tea, we’ll go find him and take him back to camp. He’ll straighten out in a little while after he empties his gut. He’ll likely want something to eat then, but he’ll do a lot better with some jerky and coffee. Then he’s gonna wanna go to bed and sleep it off.” He shook his head and laughed when he said, “In the mornin’, he’ll feel all right again and he’ll be crowin’ about what a good time he had tonight.” They got up to leave then, and as they filed by the long table, Luke shoved the empty chair Lonnie Johnson had occupied back out of the way. He paid Lee Wong for all three suppers, apologized for Jug’s reaction to his food, and explained it was whiskey that caused the reaction.
* * *
“Too bad you didn’t go to eat with me at The Chinaman’s,” Lonnie Johnson said. “You missed a chance to say hello to an old friend of yours.”
“I don’t eat that slop they serve in that place,” Bloodworth reacted typically. “What friend? I ain’t got no friends. Who was it?”
“Luke Ransom,” Lonnie said as casually as he could manage. As expected, it was akin to shoving a stick of dynamite in Bloodworth’s gut. While Bloodworth was too enraged to speak, Lonnie continued. “He was dinin’ with a sweet-lookin’ little Injun woman, settin’ off at the edge of the tent at their own private little table. That ain’t all. A couple of fellers settin’ at the long table said him and that sawed-off runt he partners with brought in a mess of prime beaver they’re all braggin’ about at the weighin’ station. And it weren’t at Boutwell’s or Rocky Mountain Fur. They sold ’em at our company.” Bloodworth still said nothing, but he continued to sit there like a pot on a hot stove, boiling angrily. Lonnie imagined he could almost see the steam rising from the top of his head. “I just thought you’d wanna know he made it back this summer. You remember? After he stuck that knife in your gut, he told me to tell you he was done with it, and to tell you to just forget about it, if you lived.” He was intent upon seeing how angry he could get Bloodworth.
“Shut your mouth,” Bloodworth finally spoke. “I know what he said, but he didn’t think I was gonna be here this summer. He’s a dead man. He just don’t know it yet. He made a mistake comin’ back here ’cause all he did was save me the trouble of havin’ to go huntin’ for him.” He was making the threats, but he hadn’t decided how he was going to satisfy them. He was determined to make Luke pay a price for the trouble he had caused him, and he wanted it to be as painful as he could make it. “You say he’s got an Injun woman with him?”
“Yep,” Lonnie answered. “And a feller settin’ at the big table said he was gonna marry her. All I know is she surely is a pretty little thing. I expect he’d be pretty tore up if anythin’ happened to her.”
Bloodworth didn’t respond until he thought about it for a few moments, then,
“What is she? Blackfoot? Crow? Shoshone?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” Lonnie replied, “she’s an Injun. Don’t make no difference, does it? He quits the company and comes back here showin’ off all them plews—him and his half-pint partner. I’ll bet that woman told ’em where to find them prime plews and that’s why he’s treatin’ her like a royal princess.”
Bloodworth let that sink in while he formed a picture of it in his mind, and he thought he could feel a sharp pain in his belly where Luke’s knife had been driven. “Is he still at The Chinaman’s,” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Lonnie answered. “He was still there when I left, and they didn’t look like they was in no hurry. Why? What you fixin’ to do? You teased that cat two times already and he damn-near sent you up the river for good.”
“Maybe this time, I ain’t gonna give him a chance to play all his tricks,” Bloodworth said, still thinking out his best option. “Maybe I’ll just shoot him down before he knows what’s what.”
“That’ud do the job all right, but you might get a shot in the back from Jug Sartain or one of them other free-trapper friends of his,” Lonnie warned him. “The company might not be too tickled with you, either, even if he did quit ’em to go on his own. They was pretty good to keep you hired on when you couldn’t go with us this past winter.” He could see that Bloodworth was giving serious thought to what he had said, but he knew the simple brute would not let Luke Ransom go unpunished. After a long pause, Bloodworth finally seemed to relax the tenseness in his face enough to permit a slight smile to appear. “Whaddaya thinkin’ now?” Lonnie asked.
“Nothin’ much,” Bloodworth responded, “maybe take a little ride to settle my belly after all I et for supper. Get a few things ready for tomorrow. I’m thinkin’ about goin’ huntin’ for some deer meat.”
“Goin’ huntin’?” Lonnie exclaimed. “You ain’t said nothin’ about goin’ huntin. Where you goin’ huntin’?”
To the River's End Page 25
