The Family Jensen

by William W. Johnstone

  He didn’t think about the heat or the danger of his own clothes catching on fire as he slapped at the flames with the blanket. The fire kept trying to spread, and he kept beating it back. Vaguely, he was aware of men shouting somewhere nearby. Then someone yelled, “Get back!”

  Matt paused in his efforts, and a man appeared beside him holding a bucket with water sloshing out of it. The man threw the water onto the flames, then handed the empty bucket to another man and took another one filled with water. Matt stepped back, blinking his smoke-irritated eyes, and watched as the quickly-formed bucket brigade put out the blaze. Fire was one of the deadliest and most-feared enemies in all frontier towns, and most communities reacted swiftly and efficiently when it threatened. Halltown was no different.

  Matt spotted Colin Ferguson in the line of men passing the water buckets back and forth. Ferguson’s narrow face was set in grim lines, but when he saw Matt looking at him, he managed a quick smile.

  “Was it you who discovered this fire?” he called out.

  Matt nodded. “A couple of the men who started it are in the alley behind the store.”

  Ferguson’s eyes widened in surprise. “You killed them?”

  “I don’t know. I got lead in them.”

  Matt went around the counter and through the door into the storeroom, drawing his gun as he did so. He heard footsteps behind him and looked around to see that Ferguson had dropped out of the line and was hurrying after him.

  Matt paused.“I don’t know if you ought to go back there, Mr. Ferguson. Those varmints might still be alive.”

  The third man, who Matt suspected had been Judd Talley, might have returned and be lurking around behind the store, but he didn’t take the time to explain that.

  “I’m coming with you,” Ferguson insisted. “Nobody can set fire to my store and get away with it!”

  Matt shrugged. He had warned Ferguson it might be dangerous. He couldn’t make the decision for him.

  Making sure he stayed in front Matt approached the rear door, which still stood open. He went through it in a crouch, sweeping his gun from side to side, ready to squeeze the trigger if anybody opened fire on him.

  “Are they still there?” Ferguson asked from just inside the doorway.

  Matt sighed and bit back a curse. The two huddled shapes he had left on the ground were gone. Either the men had only been wounded and had been able to get up and stumble away, or someone else had carried off the bodies while the battle against the fire was going on.

  “They’re gone.” Matt lowered his gun. With his other hand, he fished a lucifer out of his pocket and snapped it to life with his thumbnail. As the match flared up, it cast a flickering glow over the area behind the store. In its light, he saw two dark, irregular patches on the ground he knew had to be blood.

  “You hit them, no doubt about that,” Ferguson said as he stepped out of the building and came to stand beside Matt.

  Preacher and Smoke had taught Matt quite a bit about tracking, and experience had taught him even more. He holstered his gun and hunkered on his heels as he studied the marks left in the dirt by several pairs of high-heeled boots. “Looks to me like one man picked up both of them and carried them off. They probably had horses hidden somewhere nearby.”

  “It would take a strong man to do that,” Ferguson pointed out.

  “I saw a third man, and he was plenty big.”

  “Talley.” Ferguson made the name sound like a curse.

  Matt felt the same way about the big man. “It had to be him,” he agreed. “But I never got a good look at him, so I can’t prove it.”

  “Can’t prove what?” a new voice asked from the back door of the mercantile. As Matt looked up, Sheriff Walt Sanger stepped out of the store.

  The match had burned down almost to Matt’s fingers. He dropped it and crushed it out with the toe of his boot. “Three men started that fire in the store, Sheriff. I shot a couple of them, but the third man got away. He came back and retrieved the bodies of his partners while I was inside, trying to put out the fire. I’m convinced the third man was Judd Talley.”

  “But you didn’t really see him. You said so yourself. I heard you.”

  “I saw him well enough to tell how big he was. Nobody else but Talley fits that description.”

  “I dunno,” Sanger said dubiously. “There are lots of pretty big hombres in Nevada.”

  “Is there anybody that big around here?”

  Sanger snorted. “Shoot, I don’t know who might’ve ridden into these parts. You only showed up yourself today, mister . . . and already you’ve got mixed up in a heap of trouble. For all I know, you started that fire yourself, and now you’re just makin’ up some story about three other men ’cause you almost got caught.”

  Ferguson stared at the lawman in flabbergasted amazement for a moment before he was able to say, “Sheriff, you can’t be serious! Look at the blood on the ground. That proves Mr. Jensen wounded two of the men.”

  Stubbornly, Sanger shook his head. “I see some dark spots on the ground. That don’t prove nothin’. Might not even be blood.”

  “But . . . but . . .” Ferguson began to sputter.

  “Let it go,” Matt told him. “I don’t think the sheriff is going to believe anything that might cast some of Longacre’s men in a bad light.”

  Sanger glared at Matt. “Are you implyin’ that I’m dishonest, Jensen?”

  “No, Sheriff, I’m not,” Matt said, and as far as he was concerned, it was an honest answer. He was saying flat-out that Sanger was a crook, or at least, in the pocket of a crook. There was no “implying” about it.

  But forcing a confrontation with the lawman wasn’t going to do any good, Matt knew. He wanted to look into a few more things, and once he had, then he would decide what steps to take next.

  One of the townies who had been fighting the blaze in the store appeared in the doorway. “The fire’s out, Colin. Doesn’t look like the damage is too bad. You’re gonna have to replace some floor and maybe part of your counter.”

  Ferguson nodded. “Thanks, Roy. I’ll come take a look.”

  Matt followed Ferguson inside, ignoring the baleful look Sanger gave him as he stepped past the lawman. In the mercantile’s main room, a man was in the process of lighting a lantern, and Matt said, “Better be careful. Those varmints splashed around quite a bit of coal oil before they started the fire.”

  Ferguson sniffed the air. “Yes, I can smell it. If you hadn’t kept the flames contained, Matt, the whole place would have gone up like a pile of tender. I’ll probably lose some merchandise due to the damage from the oil, but it could have been a lot worse.”

  They examined the hole in the floor created by the fire, and Halltown’s local carpenter discussed the necessary repairs with Ferguson. While that was going on, Maureen Ferguson emerged from the crowd of volunteers and bystanders and approached Matt.

  “From what I hear, you saved the store,” she told him. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  Matt shrugged. “I just happened to see something going on in here that shouldn’t have been. Anybody would have done the same.”

  “No, they wouldn’t have. It takes a lot of courage to run into a burning building.”

  “The fire was still pretty small when I got to it,” Matt pointed out.

  Ferguson turned from his conversation to say to his niece, “Which was after he’d gotten in a shoot-out with the skunks who started the blaze, I might add.”

  Maureen’s green eyes widened. “Is that true?”

  “Well, the sheriff doesn’t seem to believe it . . . but it happened,” Matt said.

  “Dear Lord, you could have been killed!”

  “That’s true every time a man gets out of bed in the morning.”

  Maureen took hold of his arm. “Have you had supper? If not, I’m going to make sure you have the best meal you’ve had in months!”

  “Sorry, I’ve already eaten,” Matt told her with a regretful shake of his head.

>   “Well, then . . . breakfast tomorrow morning! In the hotel dining room. I’ll see to it.”

  Matt smiled. “That sounds mighty nice.”

  Maureen turned to Ferguson. “Uncle Colin, you’re putting him up in the best room in the house, aren’t you?”

  “Of course, my dear. After what he did for you earlier, I felt like he deserved it, and that goes double now.”

  The crowd began to disperse. Sheriff Sanger clumped out of the store, still casting unfriendly glances over his shoulder toward Matt. It wasn’t long before Matt, Ferguson, and Maureen were the only ones left.

  Ferguson explained to his niece, “Matt thinks it was Judd Talley and a couple of Longacre’s men who started the fire.”

  “Probably the two who were with Talley earlier,” Matt said.

  “But why?” Maureen asked. “Simply because of the trouble here?”

  “That’s enough reason for no-good rapscallions like them,” Ferguson said. “You know how Talley gets when anybody tries to stand up to him. He can’t stand anybody defying him.”

  Maureen nodded. “That’s true. And you say they shot at you, Mr. Jensen?”

  “Don’t worry, I shot back at them,” Matt said with a dry chuckle. “I winged the other two, but not Talley. He carried them off while I was in here trying to keep the fire from spreading.”

  “Do you think they’ll come back?”

  Matt had thought about the same thing. “After what happened, it’s not likely they’d make another try, especially tonight. But it might be a good idea for somebody to stay here and keep an eye on things, just in case. I can do that—”

  “You’ve already done more than enough,” Ferguson said. “I’ll stay myself.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Uncle Colin,” Maureen said.

  “I plan to have a loaded shotgun in my lap, and plenty of shells close at hand! Anybody who comes messing around here bent on mischief will soon regret it, that I can promise you!”

  Matt said, “The hotel’s right across the street. I can spell you later on.”

  “Won’t be necessary.”

  “Are you used to staying up all night and standing guard?”

  “Well . . . no.”

  “Then it won’t hurt to switch off. I’ll get some sleep and be back later.”

  “All right. I won’t argue with you. But sing out before you come in, just to be sure I don’t get nervous while I’m holding that shotgun.”

  “Count on it,” Matt said with a smile.

  Chapter 7

  The rest of the night passed quietly. Several hours after midnight, Matt took over guard duty in the store, as he had promised. Ferguson stumbled off to the hotel, yawning. Matt sat on a crate with the shotgun across his knees and tried not to let the smell of ashes and the charred wood in the floor bother him too much.

  Maureen kept her promise as well. When Matt returned to the hotel the next morning, she was waiting for him. She led him into the dining room, where a table was already set for him with platters of flapjacks, bacon, and eggs, along with a pot of strong black coffee. The table was actually set for two, so Matt wasn’t surprised when Maureen joined him for breakfast.

  The food and coffee revitalized him, and the company put a smile on his face. He told her that nothing else had happened at the store during the night.

  “I guess we’ll have to be closed for a few days while Uncle Colin has all that damage repaired,” she said.

  “Does that mean you won’t have to work during that time?” Matt asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to help my uncle go through the stock and weed out the goods that were damaged by smoke or coal oil.” Maureen looked curiously across the table at him. “Why do you ask, Matt? What did you have in mind?”

  “I thought I might do some riding in the country around here. I wouldn’t mind having a pretty girl show me around.” He smiled.

  She returned the smile and blushed. “That sounds very enjoyable. When would you like to start?”

  “Whenever would be convenient for you.”

  “Let me talk to Uncle Colin. I’m sure he’ll be agreeable, considering all you’ve done for us so far.”

  After breakfast, Maureen went over to the general store, leaving Matt to stroll around Halltown. Quite a few people recognized him and spoke to him. Between his near shoot-out with Judd Talley the day before and then saving the mercantile, he had gained a certain amount of notoriety in the settlement.

  Matt was glad to meet the townspeople. It gave him the opportunity to listen to what they had to say. The subject of Cyrus Longacre usually came up, and it quickly became obvious to Matt that most of Halltown’s citizens didn’t like the railroad baron and were afraid of Judd Talley and the rest of Longacre’s hardcase crew. In most towns, the settlers were thrilled to have the railroad arrive, and that might have been the case if Longacre’s men hadn’t caused so much trouble.

  When Matt dropped by the mercantile in the middle of the day, he found Ferguson and Maureen hard at work sorting through the stock. The carpenter and his helper were there, too, tearing out the fire-damaged wood from the floor and getting ready to replace it. Maureen managed to get a moment alone with Matt on the front porch and told him, “We’re just too busy today for me to take off. Would it be all right if we went riding tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” Matt told her. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

  A few minutes later, after leaving Maureen at the mercantile, he saw Virginia Barry coming toward him. She wore a fashionable green dress and hat and carried a matching parasol. She smiled as she and Matt met on the boardwalk.

  “I saw you talking to the Ferguson girl,” Virginia said. “You looked a bit disappointed.”

  Matt shrugged. “We’d talked about going for a ride, but she has to help her uncle in the store today.”

  “That’s a shame. But if you’re still in the mood for female company . . .” Virginia didn’t finish the sentence, but Matt thought the invitation was obvious.

  “How would Longacre feel about that?” Matt knew from what had happened the night before that Longacre didn’t care what Virginia did, as long as he got what he wanted, but he was curious to hear what she would say.

  “Cyrus isn’t even in town today,” Virginia replied. “He took the buggy and drove out to the construction camp at the railhead. He probably won’t be back until dark, or maybe even later.”

  “And you’re at a loss for something to do while he’s gone, is that it?”

  Virginia’s tone was cooler as she said, “I’m never at a loss for something to do, Mr. Jensen. I have a very inventive mind.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “If you’d like to come down to the Sierra House with me, I could demonstrate it for you.”

  Matt was tempted, as any man would have been, but not for very long. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Barry. I don’t reckon that would be a good idea.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “If you’d just accept Cyrus’s job offer, we could both have what we want.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Her chin lifted defiantly. “Fine. But Cyrus has a lot of friends in high places, and he’s accustomed to getting what he wants. I think you’ll discover that you’re making a mistake.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first one,” Matt drawled.

  Virginia flounced off, obviously furious and not trying very hard to conceal it. Several people along the boardwalk noticed her reaction and cast curious glances at Matt, clearly wondering what had happened between the two of them.

  Matt ignored the puzzled looks. As far as he was concerned, Virginia had made her play and lost. He was willing to wait for Maureen.

  They had breakfast again the next morning, and Matt noticed Maureen was dressed for riding in boots, a split skirt, and a white blouse with a brown leather vest over it. A flat-crowned brown hat sat on the table next to her food.

  “I see by your outfit that you’re ready to show me around the countr
yside,” he commented as he poured coffee in his cup.

  “That’s right. Uncle Colin said he could spare me today. We got the damaged stock sorted out yesterday, so today there won’t be anything going on except carpentry work. I can’t be any help with that.”

  “Do you have your own horse?”

  “I do. A sweet little mare named Daisy. I’ve been riding ever since I was a little girl. You don’t have to worry about me falling off.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” Matt assured her.

  After breakfast, with Maureen carrying a pair of saddlebags slung over her shoulder, they went to the livery stable. Maureen’s horse was there, as well as Matt’s sorrel. Matt saddled the animals and led them out of their stalls. He and Maureen mounted up.

  “Where would you like to go?” she asked.

  “Let’s take a look at that railroad,” Matt suggested.

  Maureen frowned. “Why would you want to go there? We’re liable to run into some of Longacre’s men.”

  “We’ll keep our distance,” Matt promised. “I just want to see how far out from town they are.”

  That wasn’t strictly true. He was actually much more interested in the telegraph wires than he was in the railroad. He had already spotted the poles leading into town, carrying the Western Union lines, and knew the railroad would roughly parallel the route of the telegraph. In many cases, the rails arrived in a settlement first, to be followed by the telegraph, but that wasn’t the case with Halltown.

  Maureen shrugged. “All right. Just don’t blame me if we run into trouble.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  They rode out, heading southeast from town. The terrain was a mixture of grassland, rocky ridges, and wide, semi-arid flats. They talked as they rode, Maureen telling Matt about her childhood in Ireland and asking him about his background. He glossed over some of the bloodier parts of his history, like the murder of his family when he was a boy, and concentrated on what it was like being raised by Smoke and Preacher.