Violence of the Mountain Man
Page 24
And if somebody did come after him, maybe this time he’d be able to grab them and make them tell him what in blazes was going on. He had learned a few tricks from the Blackfoot about the best ways to make a fella talk…
Despite the fact that Preacher was halfway hoping his enemies would come after him again, the night passed quietly and peacefully. He slept lightly as always, resting but ready to come fully awake at an instant’s notice. His soogans protected him against the nighttime chill, which was year-round at these elevations.
The next morning, he returned to the trading post to pick up Horse, and as he led the stallion out of the paddock, Jake came up to him and asked, “Are you gonna take me with you this time, Preacher?” The youngster asked him that same question almost every time he paid a visit to the trading post. “I could be a big help to you.”
“Well, I dunno, Jake. You’re a mighty big help to your ma and pa, I expect.”
“Corliss and Deborah ain’t really my ma and pa. But I reckon you’d know that.”
Preacher nodded. “’Deed I do. But they been takin’ care of you like you’re their own young’un, and I reckon you sort of owe them for that. And with Deborah bein’ in a family way, they’re gonna need even more help around here.”
“Yeah, but Preacher…” An anguished expression appeared on the boy’s round face. “They say there’s gonna be a teacher on the next wagon train headin’ this way. There’s gonna be a school here. You just can’t leave me to face that!”
Preacher sympathized; he truly did. He had never had much education himself before he left the family farm and headed West when he was about Jake’s age. He had learned to read, some on his own, some with the help of other mountain men who’d had some book learning. He could cipher some, too. A fella had to be able to do that if he wasn’t going to be taken advantage of by the fur traders.
But the thought of sitting in a building and letting some soft-handed gent try to pound facts into his head while life was going on outside…well, that was just horrifying.
There was nothing he could do, though, except slowly shake his head. “I’m sorry, Jake,” he said. “Maybe one o’ these days, but not yet.”
“Damn it, I was afraid that was what you were gonna say! Am I gonna have to run off again?”
Preacher knew how badly that would upset Corliss, Deborah, and Jerome, who looked on the youngster as a member of the family. He gave Jake a hard stare and said, “If you do, I’ll have to find you and tan your hide good, boy. That what you want?”
Jake swallowed. He knew that there was nowhere he could go in the mountains where Preacher couldn’t find him. “All right,” he said, not bothering to hide the reluctance in his voice. “I guess I can give it a try, Preacher. But only if you promise me that one o’ these days I’ll be your partner.”
Preacher hesitated. He wasn’t the sort of man who gave his word lightly. At the same time, he couldn’t really see himself taking some green kid under his wing and trying to teach the sprout how to take care of himself. Jake had him over a damn barrel, he thought.
“All right,” he finally said. “But I decide when you’re ready to go with me. Deal?”
Jake held up a pudgy hand. “Deal.”
Preacher shook with the boy and then handed him the packhorse’s reins. “Here, hold these while I mount up.” He swung up onto Horse’s back and took the reins from Jake. He had already said his good-byes to the Harts and to Pete Carey and Bouchard and Jock as well. He lifted a hand in farewell as he said, “Be seein’ you,” and nudged Horse into a trot that carried them through the open gates of the stockade.
He looked back once and saw Jake standing there just outside the walls, watching him ride away.
Preacher left the settlement behind him and worked his way up toward the pass. He was going back to the same area where he had been when the attempt on his life was made. He had traps there that still needed tending to, and he sure wasn’t going to let what happened scare him off.
When he reached the pass, he paused to look down into the valley at the settlement. Even though he didn’t like the idea of civilization encroaching on the mountains, he had to admit to himself that he grown fond of some of those folks down there. Corliss was a bit of a wastrel at times, Deborah could be a mite bossy, and Jerome was just downright annoying more often than not. But they were good people and had demonstrated that on more than one occasion. Jake was…well, Jake was Jake. For good or bad, there was no other kid quite like him. Preacher liked quite a few of the other folks, too. Maybe, in the long run, civilization wouldn’t be such a bad thing…
Lost in those thoughts as he rode through the pass leading the packhorse, at first Preacher almost didn’t notice the low-pitched rumble that sounded somewhere above him.
But he heard it, and his instincts warned him that something was wrong. He jerked his head up to peer toward the direction of the noise, and his eagle-sharp eyes saw instantly what was happening.
High above him in the pass, rocks had begun to fall, taking other rocks with them, and in little more than the blink of an eye, thousands of tons of stone had gathered steam and were sliding down the slope right toward Preacher, crushing everything in their path.
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Copyright © 2008 William W. Johnstone
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE
Following the death of William W. Johnstone, the Johnstone family is working with a carefully selected writer to organize and complete Mr. Johnstone’s outlines and many unfinished manuscripts to create additional novels in all of his series like The Last Gunfighter, Mountain Man, and Eagles, among others. This novel was inspired by Mr. Johnstone’s superb storytelling.
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ISBN: 0-7860-2119-5
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