“But that is what you done, ain’t it? You kilt two men?”
“That’s what you did, isn’t it?” Sally Sue said, correcting Thad’s grammar.
“See, Pa, even Ma is talking about it,” Thad said.
The others at the table laughed.
“I’ll tell you what,” Sam said. “We’ll talk about it after dinner. That is, if Smoke is amenable to it.”
“Amenable, oh, a good lawyer’s word,” Sally said with a smile.
After dinner, Smoke, Sam, and Thad sat out on the front porch while Sally helped Sara Sue clean up from the meal. In the west, Red Table Mountain was living up to its name by glowing red in the setting sun.
“The newspaper said that one of the men who got away was Gabe Briggs,” Sam said.
“He probably was, but they never removed their masks, so there is no way of saying,” Smoke replied.
“Would you have recognized him, if he hadn’t been wearing a mask?”
Smoke shook his head. “No, I don’t think I would have. I’ve heard of the Briggs Brothers, but then, who in this part of the country hasn’t? But I’ve never seen either of them before that little fracas on the road.”
“But he did see you,” Sam said.
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t that worry you a little? I mean, he knows what you look like, but you don’t know what he looks like. If he is bent upon revenging his brother you could be in serious danger.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Smoke said. “But my life has been such that I have made as many enemies, as I have friends. And I never know when some unknown enemy is going to call me out or, even worse, try and shoot me from ambush. I’ve lived with that for many years. Gabe Briggs will be just one more.”
“How many men have you kilt, Mr. Jensen?” Thad asked.
“Thad! That’s not a question you should ever ask anyone!” Sam scolded.
“I’m sorry,” Thad said, contritely. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I think Mr. Jensen is a hero.”
Smoke chuckled, softly. “I’m not a hero, Thad. But I have always tried to do the right thing. I’m not proud of the number of men I’ve killed—no one should ever kill someone as a matter of pride. But I will tell you this. I’ve never killed anyone who wasn’t trying to kill me.”
An Arizona Christmas Page 30
