Lonesome Dove Part 5

"They helped us keep our hair," Jake said, laying his knife and fork across his plate as neatly as if he were eating at a fancy table.

"My main job was to skeer the buffalo out of the way," he said.

"Buffalo," Augustus said. "I thought they was about gone."

"Pshaw," Jake said. "I must have seen fifty thousand up above the Yellowstone. The d.a.m.n buffalo hunters ain't got the guts to take on them Indians. Oh, they'll finish them, once the Cheyenne and the Sioux finally cave in, and they may have even since I left. The d.a.m.n Indians have the gra.s.s of Montana all to themselves. And has it got gra.s.s. Call, you ought to see it."

"I'd go today if I could fly," Call said.

"Be safer to walk," Augustus said. "By the time we walked up there maybe they would have licked the Indians."

"That's just it, boys," Jake said. "The minute they're licked there's going to be fortunes made in Montana. Why, it's cattle land like you've never seen, Call. High gra.s.s and plenty of water."

"Chilly, though, ain't it?" Augustus asked.

"Oh, it's got weather," Jake said. "h.e.l.l, a man can wear a coat."

"Better yet, a man can stay inside," Augustus said.

"I've yet to see a fortune made inside," Call said. "Except by a banker, and we ain't bankers. What did you have in mind, Jake?"

"Getting to it first," Jake said. "Round up some of these free cattle and take 'em on up. Beat all the other sons of b.i.t.c.hes, and we'd soon be rich."

Augustus and Call exchanged looks. It was odd talk to be hearing from Jake Spoon, who had never been known for his ambition-much less for a fondness for cows. Pretty wh.o.r.es, pacing horses, and lots of clean shirts had been his main requirements in life.

"Why, Jake, what reformed you?" Gus asked. "You was never a man to hanker after fortune."

"Living with the cows from here to Montana would mean a change in your habits, if I remember them right," Call said.

Jake grinned his slow grin. "You boys," he said. "You got me down for lazier than I am. I ain't no lover of cow s.h.i.t and trail dust, I admit, but I've seen something that you haven't seen: Montana. Just because I like to play cards don't mean I can't smell an opportunity when one's right under my nose. Why, you boys ain't even got a barn with a roof on it. I doubt it would bust you to move."

"Jake, if you ain't something," Augustus said. "Here we ain't seen hide nor hair of you for ten years and now you come riding in and want us to pack up and go north to get scalped."

"Well, Gus, me and Call are going bald anyway," Jake said. "You're the only one whose hair they'd want."

"All the more reason not to carry it to a hostile land," Augustus said. "Why don't you just calm down and play cards with me for a few days? Then when I've won all your money we'll talk about going places."

Jake whittled down a match and began to meticulously pick his teeth.

"By the time you clean me, Montana will be all settled up," he said. "I don't clean quick."

"What about that horse?" Call asked. "You didn't gant him like that just so you could get here and help us beat the rush to Montana. What's this about your luck running thick?"

Jake looked a little more sorrowful as he picked his teeth. "Kilt a dentist," he said. "A pure accident, but I kilt him."

"Where'd this happen?" Call asked.

"Fort Smith, Arkansas," Jake said. "Not three weeks ago."

"Well, I've always considered dentistry a dangerous profession," Augustus said. "Making a living by yanking people's teeth out is asking for trouble."

"He wasn't even pulling my tooth," Jake said. "I didn't even know there was a dentist in the town. I got in a little argument in a saloon and a d.a.m.n mule skinner threw down on me. Somebody's old buffalo rifle was leaning against the wall right by me and that's what I went for. h.e.l.l, I was sitting on my own pistols-I never wouldn't have got to it in time. I wasn't even playin' cards with the mule skinner."

"What riled him then?" Gus asked.

"Whiskey," Jake said. "He was bull drunk. Before I even noticed, he took a dislike to my dress and pulled his Colt."

"Well, I don't know what took you to Arkansas in the first place, Jake," Augustus said. "A fancy dresser like yourself is bound to excite comment in them parts."

Call had found, over the years, that it only did to believe half of what Jake said. Jake was not a bald liar, but once he thought over a sc.r.a.pe, his imagination sort of worked on it and shaded it in his own favor.

"If the man pointed a gun at you and you shot him, then that was self-defense," Call said. "I still don't see where the dentist comes in."

"It was bad luck all around," Jake said. "I never even shot the mule skinner. I did shoot, but I missed, which was enough to scare him off. But of course I shot that dern buffalo gun. It was just a little plank saloon we were sitting in. A plank won't stop a fifty-caliber bullet."

"Neither will a dentist," Augustus observed. "Not unless you shoot down on him from the top, and even then I expect the bullet would come out his foot."

Call shook his head-Augustus could think of the d.a.m.ndest things.

"So where was the dentist?" he asked.

"Walking along on the other side of the street," Jake said. "They got big wide streets in that town, too."

"But not wide enough, I guess," Call said.

"Nope," Jake said. "We went to the door to watch the mule skinner run off and saw the dentist laying over there dead, fifty yards away. He had managed to get in the exact wrong spot."

"Pea done the same thing once," Augustus said. "Remember, Woodrow? Up in the Wichita country? Pea shot at a wolf and missed and the bullet went over a hill and kilt one of our horses."

"I won't forget that," Call said. "It was little Billy it killed. I hated to lose that horse."

"Of course we couldn't convince Pea he'd done it," Augustus said. "He don't understand trajectory."

"Well, I understand it," Jake said. "Everybody in town liked that dentist."

"Aw, Jake, that won't stick," Augustus said. "n.o.body really likes dentists."

"This one was the mayor," Jake said.

"Well, it was accidental death," Call said.

"Yeah, but I'm just a gambler," Jake said. "They all like to think they're respectable back in Arkansas. Besides, the dentist's brother was the sheriff, and somebody told him I was a gunfighter. He invited me to leave town a week before it happened."

Call sighed. All the gunfighter business went back to one lucky shot Jake had made when he was a mere boy starting out in the Rangers. It was funny how one shot could make a man's reputation like that. It was a hip shot Jake made because he was scared, and it killed a Mexican bandit who was riding toward them on a dead run. It was Call's opinion, and Augustus's too, that Jake hadn't even been shooting at the bandit-he was probably shooting in hopes of bringing down the horse, which might have fallen on the bandit and crippled him a little. But Jake shot blind from the hip, with the sun in his eyes to boot, and hit the bandit right in the Adam's apple, a thing not likely to occur more than once in a lifetime, if that often.

But it was Jake's luck that most of the men who saw him make the shot were raw boys too, with not enough judgment to appreciate how lucky a thing it was. Those that survived and grew up told the story all across the West, so there was hardly a man from the Mexican border to Canada who hadn't heard what a dead pistol shot Jake Spoon was, though any man who had fought with him through the years would know he was no shot at all with a pistol and only a fair shot with a rifle.

Call and Augustus had always worried about Jake because of his unearned reputation, but he was a lucky fellow and there were not many men around dumb enough to enjoy pistol fights, so Jake managed to get by. It was ironic that the shot which finally got him in trouble was as big an accident as the shot that had made his fame.

"How'd you get loose from the sheriff?" Call asked.

"He was gone when it happened," Jake said. "He was up in Missouri, testifying on some stage robbers. I don't know if he's even back to Fort Smith yet."

"They wouldn't have hung you for an accident, even in Arkansas," Call said.

"I am a gambler, but that's one I didn't figure to gamble on," Jake said. "I just went out the back door and left, hoping July would get too busy to come after me."

"July's the sheriff?" Gus asked.

"Yes, July Johnson," Jake said. "He's young, but he's determined. I just hope he gets busy."

"I don't know why a lawman would want a dentist for a brother," Augustus said rather absently.

"If he warned you out of the town you should have left," Call said. "There's plenty of other towns besides Fort Smith."

"Jake probably had him a wh.o.r.e," Augustus said. "He usually does."

"You're one to talk, Gus," Jake said.

They all fell silent for a time while Jake thoughtfully picked his teeth with the sharpened match. Bolivar was sound asleep, sitting on his stool.

"I should have rode on, Call," Jake said apologetically. "But Fort Smith's a pretty town. It's on the river, and I like to have a river running by me. They eat catfish down there. I got where it kinda suited my tooth."

"I'd like to see the fish that could keep me in a place I wasn't wanted," Call said. Jake had always been handy with excuses.

"That's what we'll tell the sheriff when he shows up to take you back," Augustus said. "Maybe he'll take you fishing while you're waiting to be hung."

Jake let it pa.s.s. Gus would have his joke, and he and Call would would disapprove of him when he got in some unlucky sc.r.a.pe. It had always been that way. But the three of them were disapprove of him when he got in some unlucky sc.r.a.pe. It had always been that way. But the three of them were companeros companeros still, no matter how many dentists he killed. Call and Gus had been the law themselves and didn't always bow and sc.r.a.pe to it. They would not likely let some young sheriff take him off to hang because of an accident. He was willing to take a bit of ribbing. When trouble came, if it did, the boys would stick and July Johnson would have to ride back home empty-handed. still, no matter how many dentists he killed. Call and Gus had been the law themselves and didn't always bow and sc.r.a.pe to it. They would not likely let some young sheriff take him off to hang because of an accident. He was willing to take a bit of ribbing. When trouble came, if it did, the boys would stick and July Johnson would have to ride back home empty-handed.

He stood up and walked to the door to look over the hot, dusty little town.

"I hardly thought to find you boys still here," he said. "I thought you'd have some big ranch somewhere by now. This town was a two-bit town when we came here and it looks to me like it's lost about fifteen cents since then. Who's left that we all know?"

"Xavier and Lippy," Augustus said. "Therese got kilt, thank G.o.d. A few of the boys are left but I forget who. Tom Bynum's left."

"He would be," Jake said. "The Lord looks after fools like Tom."

"What do you hear of Clara?" Augustus asked. "I suppose since you traveled the world you've been to see her. Dropped in for supper, innocent-like, I guess."

Call stood up to go. He had heard enough to know why Jake had come back, and didn't intend to waste the day listening to him jaw about his travels, particularly not if it meant having to hear any talk about Clara Allen. He had heard enough about Clara in the old days, when Gus and Jake had both been courting her. He had been quite happy to think it all ended when she married, but it hadn't ended, and listening to Gus pine over her was almost as bad as having him and Jake fighting about her. Now, with Jake back, it would all start again, though Clara Allen had been married and gone for over fifteen years.

Deets stood up when Call did, ready for work. He hadn't said a word while eating, but it was clear he took much pride in being the one who had seen Jake first.

"Well, it ain't a holiday," Call said. "Work to do. Me and Deets will go see if we can help them boys."

"That Newt surprised me," Jake said. "I had it in mind he was still a spud. Is Maggie still here?"

"Maggie's been dead nine years," Augustus said. "You wasn't hardly over the hill when it happened."

"I swear," Jake said. "You mean you've had little Newt for nine years?"

There was a long silence, in which only Augustus felt comfortable. Deets felt so uncomfortable that he stepped in front of the Captain and went out the door.

"Why, yes, Jake," Gus said. "We've had him since Maggie died."

"I swear," Jake said again.

"It was only the Christian thing," Augustus said. "Taking him in, I mean. After all, one of you boys is more than likely his pa."

Call put on his hat, picked up his rifle and left them to their talk.

7.

JAKE SPOON STOOD in the door of the low house, watching Call and Deets head for the barn. He had been looking forward to being home from the moment he looked out the door of the saloon and saw the dead man laying in the mud across the wide main street of Fort Smith, but now that he was home it came back to him how nervous things could be if Call wasn't in his best mood.

"Deets's pants are a sight, ain't they," he said mildly. "Seems to me he used to dress better."

Augustus chuckled. "He used to dress worse," he said. "Why, he had that sheepskin coat for fifteen years. You couldn't get in five feet of him without the lice jumping on you. It was because of that coat that we made him sleep in the barn. I ain't finicky except when it comes to lice."

"What happened to it?" Jake asked.

"I burned it," Augustus said, "Done it one summer when Deets was off on a trip with Call. I told him a buffalo hunter stole it. Deets was ready to track him and get his coat back, but I talked him out of it."

"Well, it was his coat," Jake said. "I don't blame him."

"h.e.l.l, Deets didn't need it," Augustus said. "It ain't cold down here. Deets was just attached to it because he had it so long. You remember when we found it, don't you? You was along?"

"I may have been along but I don't remember," Jake said, lighting a smoke.

"We found that coat in an abandoned cabin up on the Brazos," Augustus said. "I guess the settlers that run out decided it was too heavy to carry. It weighed as much as a good-sized sheep, which is why Call gave it to Deets. He was the only one of us stout enough to carry it all day. Don't you remember that, Jake? It was the time we had that sc.r.a.pe up by Fort Phantom Hill."

"I remember a sc.r.a.pe, but the rest is kinda cloudy," Jake said. "I guess all you boys have got to do is sit around and talk about old times. I'm young yet, Gus. I got a living to make."

In fact, what he did remember was being scared every time they crossed the Brazos, since it would just be ten or twelve of them and no reason not to think they would run into a hundred Comanches or Kiowas. He would have been glad to quit rangering if he could have thought of a way to do it that wouldn't look bad, but there was no way. In the end he came through twelve Indian fights and many sc.r.a.pes with bandits only to get in real trouble in Fort Smith, Arkansas, as safe a town as you could find.

Now that he had come back, it was just to be reminded of Maggie, who had always threatened to die if he ever left her. Of course, he had thought it just girlish talk, the kind of thing all women said when they were trying to hold a fellow. Jake had heard such talk all the way up the trail, in San Antonio and Fort Worth, Abilene and Dodge, in Ogallala and Miles City-the talk of wh.o.r.es pretending to be in love for one. But Maggie had actually died, when he had only supposed she would just move on to another town. It was a sad memory to come home to, though from what he knew of the situation, Call had done her even worse than he had.

"Jake, I notice you've not answered me about Clara," Augustus said. "If you've been to see her I'd like to hear about it, even though I begrudge you every minute."

"Oh, you ain't got much begrudging to do," Jake said. "I just seen her for a minute, outside a store in Ogallala. That dern Bob was with her, so all I could do was tip my hat and say good morning."

"I swear, Jake, I thought you'd have more gumption than that," Augustus said. "They live up in Nebraska, do they?"