Absaroka Ambush Read Online Free Page B

them. “Jack Hayes is a murderer and a thief,” he told the large group of women. “He’s wanted back in Virginia.”
    â€œHe told us his name was Wilbert Dunlap,” Eudora said.
    â€œThat proves he’s a liar too.”
    â€œWe only have your word for that, Mister Preacher whatever-your-name-is,” a voice sprang from Preacher’s other side.
    Preacher turned his head. “Preacher’ll do. Who you be?”
    â€œFaith Crump. I am a journalist.”
    And a damn pretty one, too, Preacher thought. Redheaded and green-eyed. A shape that’d cause young men to act silly and old men to weep in remembrance of better days. Them duds she had on was handsewn for her, and fine material they was, too. Preacher knew a little something about ladies and their clothes.
    Eudora stepped close and whacked Preacher on the leg, startling him. “Well, I like you, Mister Mountain Man,” she thundered. “You don’t priss around and honey-coat your words. I like that in a person. But don’t you get the wrong idea about me. My man’s waiting for me by the blue waters. You lead, and we’ll follow, right, ladies?” she roared.
    The women gave Preacher a loud hip, hip, and a hooray and Hammer just about came unhinged. Preacher had to fight to keep a hold on the reins. The president’s man came riding to his rescue.
    â€œThere will be a meeting right after lunch tomorrow afternoon, ladies,” he said. “Any and all questions will be answered then. Shall we go, Preacher?”
    â€œWith pleasure,” Preacher muttered.
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    The president’s man tried to put Preacher and his friends up at an inn, but the mountain men would have no part of that. The feather ticks were always too soft and the rooms too small. The men preferred to sleep out under the skies and stars.
    Later that afternoon, Preacher went strolling amid the wagons and the women. There were some kids, but not many—something that Preacher was profoundly grateful for. He smiled and spoke to the women as he walked, but did not stop to talk. That would come in a day or two. He wanted to personally talk with every female there, to spot the strong as well as the weak.
    Quick as a sneaky snake, Faith Crump was by his side, tablet and pencils at hand. “So what do you think about this venture, Mister, ah, Preacher?”
    â€œI ain’t paid to think, lady. I’m paid to get you people through.”
    â€œDo you always carry that big gun wherever you go?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause if I run into Jack Hayes, I might take a notion to shoot him.”
    â€œWhy don’t you leave Mister Hayes to the proper authorities?”
    â€œWhat proper authorities, Lady? He’s been loose and free for years after all the bad he done back east. Don’t seem to me like anybody’s doin’ anything to grab him and string him up. And this is the last chance for anybody to do something legal-like.” He stopped, turned, and pointed west. A dozen other women had stopped what they were doing and gathered around, listening. “A few miles yonder, Missy, the laws that you live under stop. For hundreds of miles the only law is that which a man carries in his heart and mind and what comes out of the barrel of a gun. Missy, you ain’t never seen nothing like what you’re a-fixin’ to see in a few days. None of you. You’re all a-thinkin’ this is some sort of grand adventure. But I’ll tell you what it is right now. It’s dirt and sweat and pain and grief. It’s bein’ so tired you can’t even think. It’s pushin’ and tuggin’ and heavin’ and jerkin’ ’til your hands bleed. You ever seen a person die, Missy? No? I thought so. You’re goin’ to. You’re goin’ to see painted up Injuns who, rightly or wrongly, don’t like people comin’ through lands they been