A High Sierra Christmas

by William W. Johnstone

  Alma didn’t appear all that glad to be here, however, and neither did Kellerman, who had to be worrying about his future now that everyone was suspicious of the cash he’d been carrying around ever since the journey began.

  This time when Brad ran ahead into the cavernous lobby, Melanie didn’t try to stop him. Everyone hurried into the warmth coming from a blaze in a huge fireplace on the other side of the lobby. Two men were seated in armchairs near it, and both got to their feet in apparent surprise at the new arrivals.

  Peter Stansfield was the last one through the door. Smoke heard the reporter close it against the wind, and then a startled exclamation came from Stansfield, followed by an ominous thud. Smoke started to turn....

  A gunshot roared, almost drowning out Melanie’s scream. Then Smoke and all the others froze at the sight of Frank Colbert with his left arm around the young woman’s neck and his right hand pressing the muzzle of Kellerman’s Smith & Wesson against her head.

  CHAPTER 38

  For a long moment, everyone in the room stood silent and motionless.

  Then Smoke said, “Don’t you ever get tired of threatening innocent folks, Colbert? I almost felt sorry for you when I thought you’d died in the blizzard, but I reckon I won’t be feeling that way anymore.”

  Colbert pressed the gun harder against Melanie’s head, causing her to gasp in fear and pain. He had pulled her with him as he backed away from the others. Now he stood with his back against the closed door.

  Stansfield lay a few feet away, moving around a little and groaning. Blood welled from the cut on his forehead he had suffered when Colbert hit him with the gun. Smoke realized that the outlaw had been hiding behind the open door, covering the two men by the fireplace, and had waited until everyone was inside and Stansfield had closed the door to make his move.

  Smoke glanced at Louis and saw that his son was trembling with the urge to jump Colbert. The way the outlaw was threatening Melanie had to fill Louis with rage.

  But for a change, Denny had her hand closed tightly around her brother’s arm and wasn’t going to let him do anything foolish. Usually it was the other way around, with Louis urging caution on his headstrong sister.

  Salty had his good hand on Brad’s shoulder, keeping the boy under control, too. Once again, it appeared that Colbert had the upper hand.

  But that wouldn’t last. All Smoke needed was the tiniest opening....

  And if he got it, he would put a bullet through the outlaw’s twisted brain.

  In the meantime, he wanted to keep Colbert talking, figuring Melanie would be safer that way, so he continued, “How did you make it, anyway? The last time anybody saw you, you were running off into the blizzard without even a heavy coat.”

  Colbert grinned over Melanie’s shoulder. “Luck was on my side, Jensen. Or call it fate or destiny or what have you. All I know is that I hadn’t run through the snow for very long when I tripped over the steps of this hotel. My God, we were sitting there freezing to death when this place was that close!”

  “There was no way for us to know that. All we could do was play the odds.”

  “Well, it looks like luck was with you, too . . . for a while, anyway. I figured you were dead when you never came back yesterday.”

  Smoke didn’t say anything about his encounter with Earl, and neither did any of the others. Under the circumstances, it didn’t really mean anything. Colbert could just be puzzled about how Smoke had survived.

  “What is it you’re planning to do now?” Smoke asked. “You’re stuck here just as much as the rest of us are. There was no need to clout Stansfield, or to threaten Mrs. Buckner.”

  A savage grin appeared on Colbert’s face. “I’m going to Reno,” he said. “I might still be able to get there in time.”

  One of the men standing near the fireplace said, “He came in talking crazy like that and took over the place. There are only a few other employees on hand, and he herded all of them into the kitchen and tied them up. Herman and I told him the pass is blocked, but he wouldn’t listen to us.”

  “Who are you, mister?” Smoke asked.

  “Juniper Jones, the telegrapher here.” Jones nodded to his companion. “This is Herman Painton, the manager of the hotel.”

  “I’d say I’m glad to meet you,” Smoke told the men, “but I wish it was under different circumstances.” He looked at Colbert again. “How do you think you’re going to get to Reno? The best thing for you to do is turn Mrs. Buckner loose, put that gun down, and be reasonable.”

  “Is it reasonable to pass up a lot of money that’s just sitting there for the taking?” Colbert laughed. “That would be crazy.” He nodded toward Jones and Painton. “Those two told me the railroad has a maintenance shed farther up the pass, and there’s a handcar stored in it. From that point, it’s downhill all the way to Reno, so I can use the handcar to get there.”

  The man really was loco, Smoke thought, or else so hungry for the loot he was after that he just couldn’t think straight.

  At the same time, there was a slim possibility Colbert’s plan might work . . . if he could reach the maintenance shed and the handcar.

  “How do you plan on getting past the avalanche if it completely blocked off the pass?” Smoke asked. He hated to carry on this conversation while Melanie was in danger and obviously terrified, but if he pretended to play along with Colbert, he might get a chance to turn the tables on the outlaw.

  Juniper Jones spoke up and answered that. “The pass isn’t completely blocked. The snowsheds are wrecked and the railroad tracks are covered, but a man on snowshoes can get through. I was out taking a look at it this morning, not long before this man showed up.”

  “And you told him that?”

  “We don’t want him here, mister. I don’t know why he wants to get to Reno, and I don’t care. But if he’s willing to pump a handcar that far, then more power to him, I say.”

  “Damn right I’m willing,” Colbert said. “And I’m leaving now. Jones, bring two pairs of snowshoes.”

  The telegrapher frowned. “Why two?”

  “Because Mrs. Buckner is going with me as far as that maintenance shed, just to make sure none of you get any funny ideas. I’m talking mostly to you, Jensen.”

  “If you want to take a hostage with you,” Smoke said, “why not take me?”

  “And give you a chance to jump me? I don’t think so.” Colbert put his cheek next to Melanie’s and leered. “The little lady will do fine. She’ll be good company for a tramp through the snow.”

  Brad said, “You’d better not hurt my ma!”

  “Then you’d better hope none of these fools tries anything, kid,” Colbert said. “Jones! Move, damn you! Get those snowshoes.”

  The telegrapher went over to a closet and retrieved two sets of snowshoes. Colbert turned Melanie loose but kept the revolver pointed at her head as she put on one set of the shoes, tying them on with shaking fingers. Then he put the other set on himself.

  “Kellerman, give me your coat,” Colbert ordered then. “It looks like it’ll fit me all right. And while you’re at it, I’ll take that case full of loot, too. You think I didn’t notice when all those bills came tumbling out of it, back there at the stagecoach?”

  Kellerman stepped back, clutching the case with his usual fervor. “No! I won’t let you have—”

  “The hell with this,” Colbert snapped. He turned the gun away from Melanie and shot Kellerman in the head. Kellerman jerked and blood welled from the red-rimmed hole above his right eye. By the time his knees buckled and he hit the floor, dropping the case as he did so, Colbert had the gun pointed at Melanie again.

  The others were shocked by the sudden violence, except for Smoke and Salty, who stood there impassively. Both men had seen plenty of death in their time. Smoke’s biggest regret was that Colbert hadn’t given him a chance for a shot. The outlaw was slick, though, and had kept Melanie between himself and Smoke the whole time.

  The case hadn’t come open this time, b
ut it had slid across the hardwood floor a couple of feet from Kellerman’s body. The pool of blood seeping from the man’s head wound advanced steadily toward the case.

  “You,” Colbert said to Louis. “Young Jensen. Slide that over here with your foot. Don’t try anything else.”

  Louis looked furious, but he didn’t want to take any chances with Melanie’s life. He did as Colbert ordered.

  Colbert bent to pick up the case with his left hand while his right kept the revolver trained on Melanie. “Now get Kellerman’s coat off of him.”

  Louis struggled to do that, but he managed to pull the coat off the dead man. Following Colbert’s commands, he tossed it onto the floor next to the outlaw.

  Colbert picked up the coat and got into it, all without taking the gun off Melanie.

  “Come on,” he told her when he had finished donning the garment. “We’re going.”

  “Please,” she said. “Please don’t make me leave my son—”

  “We can take him with us if you want,” Colbert broke in.

  “No! I mean, no, don’t do that. I’ll come with you. I’ll do whatever you say. Just . . . just leave Brad here, where he’ll be safe.” She gazed at Louis. “Promise me you’ll look after him.”

  “Of course, but nothing’s going to happen to you,” Louis told her. Salty still had hold of Brad’s shoulder, so Louis gripped the boy’s other shoulder. Brad was crying a little now, but they were tears of rage.

  Colbert tucked the case under his arm for a moment and used that hand to open the door. Then, holding the gun close to Melanie’s side, he put his other hand on her shoulder and backed out.

  “If I see anybody coming after me, I’ll kill her!” Colbert shouted as he and Melanie stepped out onto the porch. “You know I’ll do it!”

  After watching him gun down Kellerman in cold blood, there was no doubt in anybody’s mind that Colbert meant exactly what he said.

  Colbert put his arm around Melanie’s neck again, this time holding the case so that it was in front of her. As the people in the hotel watched through the open door, the two of them backed away until the snow hid them from view.

  Then Denny turned to Smoke and said, “You’re going after them, aren’t you?”

  “Wait,” Louis said. “If you do that, Father, he’ll shoot Melanie.”

  “He’s liable to shoot her anyway,” Denny argued. “You saw him, Louis. He’s a mad dog.”

  Smoke said, “Don’t worry, I’m going after him. The man’s a killer and needs to be brought to justice. But I don’t want to risk Melanie’s life, either.” He turned to Jones and Painton, the two men who worked there at the hotel. “Are there more snowshoes?”

  “We have plenty of them,” Painton said.

  “I need somebody to show me where that maintenance shed is.”

  “I can do that,” Jones volunteered. “What are you going to do, mister? And just who are you, anyway?”

  “Who is he?” Salty repeated. “Why, this here is Smoke Jensen!”

  “The gunfighter?” Jones asked as his eyebrows rose. “I’ve read books about you!”

  “Don’t believe everything you read,” Smoke told him. “Just fetch snowshoes for both of us.”

  “For three of us,” Salty said. “I’m comin’ along, too.”

  “And me,” Denny said.

  Smoke said, “Salty, you’re wounded, and Denny, your mother would have my hide if I let you get shot up in a gunfight. You’re all staying here except me. I can handle Colbert.”

  “I dunno, Smoke,” Salty said as he shook his head. “That varmint seems to have the devil’s own luck followin’ him around.”

  “Well, it’s run out now,” Smoke said.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long to get ready. Smoke and Jones put on snowshoes, and the telegrapher bundled himself in an overcoat and took a Winchester from another closet.

  “Be careful you don’t shoot me or Mrs. Buckner with that,” Smoke warned him.

  “I don’t intend to use it unless I have to,” Jones assured him. “But I’m a decent shot when I need to be.”

  Smoke and Jones were walking across the lobby when Alma Lewiston stepped up to them. Her hands had been untied by someone, and she was lightly rubbing her wrists where the bonds had been.

  “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” she said to Smoke.

  He paused. “I reckon that’ll be up to him.”

  “You don’t think he’ll let you take him alive, do you? I’ve only known him for a few days, and I know that about him already. He’s got his sights set on whatever big job is waiting for him in Reno, and now that he’s got another chance at it, he won’t let anything stop him . . . nothing short of a bullet, anyway.”

  “If that’s the way it has to be,” Smoke said bluntly.

  “I hope he doesn’t hurt that woman. She doesn’t deserve it.”

  Smoke glanced across the lobby at the chairs where Louis was sitting with Brad, talking quietly with the boy and trying to keep him calm.

  “No, she sure doesn’t,” he agreed, “and neither does her son.”

  Alma gave a small, defiant toss of her head. “Maybe I was wrong to do what I did, out there on the trail. But at the time, I didn’t see that I had any choice.” She shrugged. “Maybe things will be different from now on, or maybe they won’t. Who can say? All I know is that some people seem to get everything they want, and some always seem to come up short. Why do you think that is?”

  “Ask a philosopher,” Smoke snapped. “I’m a rancher. Come on, Jones.”

  They left the hotel and went out into the blizzard.

  “Colbert will follow the tracks as much as he can,” Jones said, “but I know a quicker way to that maintenance shed. We can get there first and be ready for him.”

  Smoke peered into the white, rippling curtains of snow and said, “Am I mistaken, or is it actually letting up a little?”

  “I think you’re right. It’s not snowing quite as hard as it was a little while ago. Good Lord, is this monster of a storm finally blowing itself out?”

  “We can hope,” Smoke said grimly.

  “Speaking of monsters . . .” Jones hesitated, then went on, “You’ll probably think I’m losing my mind, but there’s been something strange wandering around here lately—”

  “You’re talking about the Donner Devil?” Smoke interrupted him.

  Jones stared. “You know about the Donner Devil?”

  “More than that.” Despite the situation, Smoke chuckled. “I’ve met him. He’s not nearly as threatening as most folks think he is.”

  “You’ve met . . . Wait a minute. You can’t be serious.”

  “It’s a long story,” Smoke said, “but we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the man you call the Donner Devil.”

  “He’s a man? Really?”

  “A good man, I think.”

  Jones didn’t press for details, but Smoke knew the people who worked at the Summit Hotel would want the whole story later. He would tell them about Earl, but only after he swore them to secrecy. He didn’t want a bunch of people coming up here to hunt for the so-called Donner Devil, even any do-gooders who would claim they were going to help him. Earl just wanted to be left alone, and Smoke had realized that would be the best thing for him.

  Jones led Smoke through a stand of trees, one of the few left here in the pass, and then up a steep slope. The deep snow made it even more difficult, but the snowshoes helped. Smoke had used snowshoes before, but he was far from an expert at it. Jones was a lot more accustomed to them and gave Smoke several tips that made the going easier.

  “There’s a little gap along the edge of all that snow the avalanche brought down,” Jones explained. “Colbert will be able to follow it. The way we’re going is harder but shorter. If we push, we can beat him.”

  “You know what you’re doing,” Smoke told him. “You set the pace. I’ll keep up.”

  Maybe Salty should have come along after all, Smoke muse
d. The old-timer had been up in Alaska with Frank Morgan a while back. He might have gotten some experience on snowshoes. Smoke was glad, though, that Salty was safe back at the hotel.

  It was bad enough they had lost Fred Davis’s stagecoach. Smoke wouldn’t have wanted to lose the old jehu, too.

  The wind was still blowing hard and whipping the snow around, but when Smoke looked up, he was surprised that he could see the mountains looming on both sides of the pass. The snow really wasn’t falling as heavily now. This was the best visibility of the past couple of days.

  A few moments later, they topped the crest and started down the other side of the little ridge. Up ahead, Smoke saw the line of snowsheds again, coming in from the east this time. The pass had a long curve to it, which made the shortcut possible.

  The shelters over the tracks ended abruptly where the avalanche began. Jones pointed at a spot about a quarter of a mile east of there and said, “That’s where the maintenance shed is. You can see it’s wider than the others. That’s because the railroad stores equipment there, including a couple of handcars.”

  “There’s not just one handcar?”

  “No, there are two.”

  That could be important information, Smoke thought. He didn’t intend to let Colbert get away, but if that happened, at least Smoke would have a way of pursuing him.

  First and most importantly, though, he needed to get Melanie Buckner away from the outlaw.

  They crossed a little depression that was full of snow, but the special footgear kept them from sinking into it up to their necks. Knowing that the snow was over his head and might try to swallow him up if he wasn’t careful was a little nerve wracking for Smoke.

  Finally, they were across. Smoke looked behind them and saw that the wind and snow were already filling up the tracks they had left. Jones went up another small slope to a door that opened into the maintenance shed.

  It was dim and shadowy inside the building. At each end, the tracks split to form a fifty-yard-long siding onto which cars could be pulled and uncoupled if work was needed on them or if a train had to drop them off for some other reason. There were also two short, curving spurs on which handcars rested. The far wall was covered with shelves and cabinets where various tools and equipment were stored.