War Of The Mountain Man

“You want to try it now, Red?” Smoke calmly laid down the challenge.

Red grudgingly smiled at the man’s calmness and courage. He took a deep breath and shook his head. “I reckon not, Jensen. But you can’t stick around here forever. You got to leave sometime. I’ll wait.”

“I’m betting you won’t, Red. Oh, you might; I’ll give you that. But sooner or later, your daughter is going to want some pretties from the dress shop or the general store, and she’ll agitate you or someone else until you drive her in. One of your hands is going to get drunk and come rip-snorting in here. You or some of your crew or your kid will get sick and have to see the doctor or the man at the apothecary shop. Any of those things could blow the lid off. And one of them more than likely will.”

“You’d stop me from bringing my girl or one of my men in to see the doctor?”

“That’s right, Red.”

“You’re a heartless bastard, Jensen!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t prevent the doctor from going out to your spread. Or you could bring them to this town limit and he could treat them. But after today, unless it’s for a court appearance, neither you nor any of your family or crew sets a foot in Barlow.”

Red curtly nodded his head. “I got a packet in my saddlebags for Mel. It’s some readin’ material and money so’s he can buy himself some food from the cafe. Is that all right?”

“Suits me, Red.”

Red unbuckled the straps and handed Smoke a small packet.

“You know I’ll have to inspect it?”

“I know. It’s a Bible, Jensen. That’s the only book I could find in the house. Maybe hell read it, maybe he won’t. I reckon I should have.”

“You think it’s too late for that, Red?”

The rancher thought about that for a moment. “Yeah, I think it is, Jensen.” He shook his head. “That don’t make no never-mind. I’ll deal with the devil when I meet him. Jensen, either I’m gonna kill you, John Steele is gonna kill you, Max Huggins is gonna kill you, or somebody is gonna kill you for that bounty on your head ... and you know there is one.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“And there you sit, just as calm and unconcerned as a hog in slop.”

“That’s me, Red. I don’t worry about things I have no control over. I don’t fret about too little or too much rain. That’s in God’s hands. And I don’t worry about what you or Max and your scummy crews are going to do. Oh, I could take control of that, Red, by blowing you out of the saddle right now. But even though I’ve killed lots of men, I’m not a murderer and I don’t force gunplay on people who haven’t pushed me. So I just wait.”

“Lemme see if I can get through to you, Jensen. The people in this town are little people. You and me and Max, we’re big people. Big people have always had little people under their thumb. That’s what makes the world go round, Jensen. Do you understand that?”

“I hear your words, Red, and you’re wrong. But you’ll never see that, though. If you lived in a big city, you’d be running a sweatshop, forcing decent people to work long hours under miserable conditions for little pay. That’s just the way you are, I reckon. Lots of folks are like you and Max, Red. You’re born that way. I call it the bad seed theory.”

“Goddamn you, Jensen,” Red flared. “I came out here in late ’65 when this country was wild, man, wild! I built my spread with sweat and blood, a lot of it my blood. I fought Injuns and homesteaders and hog-farmers and white trash. I scratched and clawed and chewed my way to what I got. And I’ll not see it tore apart in front of my eyes. I demand respect.”

“You left out a lot of things, Red. You left out that you probably came out here running from the law back east....”

Smoke knew he’d hit pay dirt from the expression on Red’s face. The man looked like he’d been hit with a club. He ground his teeth together so hard Smoke could hear the gnashing. Red’s face turned white and he fought to maintain control.

“You always were a liar and a cheat and a thief and a womanizer. I’m told you beat your wife so often and so savagely she finally had enough and quit you. Now I add all that up, Red, and do you know what the total is?”

Red stared at Smoke. He was killing mad but smart enough to know if he dragged iron, Jensen would beat him. Red was good with a gun, but no match for Smoke Jensen.

“So add it up and tell me what you come up with, gunfighter,” Red spat the words.

“Scum,” Smoke said softly. “One hundred percent stinking scum.”

“I’ll spit on your grave, Jensen.”

“I doubt it.”

“Goddamn you, Jensen!” Red flared. “Who gives you the right to pass judgment on me? You’re nothin’ but a gunhandler. You made your money killin’ people. What in the hell gives you the right to think you’re better than me?”

“Oh, don’t think I’m better than you in the Biblical sense, Red. We’re all going to have to stand before our Maker and be judged.”

Red’s face had regained much of its normal color. He wore a puzzled look as he spread his hands wide. “Then? ...”