War Of The Mountain Man

Sal had entered the room. He took one look at Vicky’s open bodice and blushed. Turning his back to the woman, he said, “I sent Pete over to fetch your girl, ma’am. They’ll be along directly.”

“Thank you, Mr....”

“Just Sal, ma’am.”

Vicky buttoned up her bodice. “You may turn around now, Sal.”

“Thank you. I feel sorta stupid standin’ here talkin’ to a wall.”

“That was kind of you thinking of Lisa.”

Sal blushed. “Wasn’t nothin’, ma’am.”

“It is to me, I assure you. Well!” She patted her hair and got herself together. “I have to assume that Robert is not coming back. So I think what 111 do is this: If you all will leave me alone for a time—Sally, will you look after Lisa for a few minutes? Good, thank you—I’ll have myself a good cry and then start putting my life back in order.”

Sal was the first one out the door. Women made him nervous, unpredictable creatures that they were.

“Man ought to be horsewhipped leavin’a a good woman like that one back yonder,” Sal said to Smoke as they all walked back to the office.

Sally looked at Smoke and winked at him. “Sal, what are your plans when we leave here?”

“Why ... I don’t rightly know, ma’am. Why do you ask?”

“The county is going to need a sheriff,” Smoke picked up on what his wife was leading up to. “And you’ve been a fine deputy. How’s about I recommend you to Judge Garrison.”

“You mean that?”

“Are you interested?”

“Sure. But how ’bout these boys?” He jerked his thumb at Pete and Jim.

“Well,” Smoke said with a smile, “I think Pete is going to try his hand at ranchin’, seeing as how he’s been tippy-toeing around the Widow Feckles, the both of them making goo-goo eyes at each other.”

Pete’s face suddenly turned beet-red. “I just remembered something. I got to go see about my horse,” he said, and walked across the street.

“How about you?” Sal asked Jim.

“I like this deputy sheriffin’. Sure beats thirty a month and found sleepin’ in drafty bunkhouses. It’s fine with me, Sal.”

“Good. It’s settled then. Judge Garrison has papers declaring the election of Cartwright to have been illegal, and the man has no more authority. He’s going to post election notices starting tomorrow. And you’re going to be the only candidate.”

“What are you gonna do?” Sal asked, clearly startled at the rapid turn of events.

“Retire from law enforcement and hang around to see the fun. A badge is too restrictive for me, Sal. I like room to roam.”

“In other words, you’re gonna take the fight to them.”

“Why, Sal,” Smoke said with a serious look on his face, “you know I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“He occasionally tells tall tales, too, Sal,” Sally told him.

“Judge Garrison did what?” Max jumped to his feet.

“Declared my election as sheriff illegal and they had an election down to Barlow yesterday,” Cartwright said. “Sal is the new sheriff.”

“He can’t do that. We weren’t advised of any election.”

“Yes, we were.” Cartwright held out a piece of paper. “One

of the boys found this tacked to a tree just outside of town.”

Max snatched the paper from him and squinted. “Hell, you can’t read it without a magnifying glass!”

“That’s sure enough the truth and that’s what I done, too. It’s a legal paper, telling the citizens of Hell’s Creek about the election.”

Max sat down and cussed. Loud and long. He wadded up the notice and hurled it across the room. He had never before been stymied at every turn, and it was an unpleasant sensation that he did not like.

“Well, you can still be town marshal of Hell’s Creek.”

“Big deal,” Cartwright said sarcastically. “We got no protection now, Max. We don’t know what’s goin’ on in Barlow now that your brother moved in with you. And the boys is gettin’ right edgy.”

“About what, Paul?”

“They’re wantin’ to hit the town now and get out. The bank’s in place, ain’t it?”

“Not yet. Monday morning is still the target date. We’ll double our money if we wait until everybody there has dug up the money they’ve buried or pulled it out of mattress ticks. Tell the boys to calm down.”

Cartwright left and Max turned in his chair, looking out his office window. His main concern right now was what he was going to do with Robert. His younger brother was getting unpredictable. He was like a goose, waking up in a new world every morning. Most of the time he was lucid, but other times he was crazy as a loon. Of course, he had always known his brother was nuts, walking a very fine line between genius—which he was—and insanity—which he certainly was.

But he was family, and family looked out for each other. As best they could, that is.

“You just sign right here, Victoria,” Judge Garrison said, “and Robert’s estate will be under your control.”

Victoria signed and she became executor over Robert Turner’s estate, thus insuring that she and Lisa would not be thrust penniless into the world.

Sal was now the officially elected and legal sheriff of the county, and Smoke had turned in his badge.