Beartooth Incident by Jon Sharpe Read Free Book Online

wants. And what Cud wants is for me to keep an eye on you until he gets here, proper or not proper.”
    “Where am I going to go in the dead of winter with no horse and two children to look after?”
    “It’s not that. It’s the Injuns. We struck redskin sign, and he’s worried they might pay you a visit.”
    “They haven’t bothered us since my husband gave them one of our cows. Why would they harm us now?”
    Tull shrugged, then waggled his empty cup. “Don’t ask me. I wouldn’t care if they helped themselves to that pretty hair of yours. I just do what Cud tells me. And since he said I stay, I stay. Now give me some more coffee, damn it.” Nelly moved between Fargo and the table. She was watching her mother and the outlaw and didn’t realize she was blocking Fargo’s view. He moved so he could see past her.
    “What if I were to insist that you leave?” Mary was saying. “I’ll tell Cud it was my doing so he won’t be mad at you.”
    “Don’t your ears work? I don’t do what you say. I do what Cud says. I’m here and I am staying. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll stop annoying me.”
    Mary carried the pot out of Fargo’s sight. When she came back, she was holding a large towel over both of her hands. “What if I ask you to leave as a personal favor to me?”
    “God Almighty,” Tull declared in disgust. “You’d make a great dog. You worry every bone.”
    “ I’m a woman without a husband, and it wouldn’t do for me to have the likes of you staying under my roof. In a town it would create a scandal.”
    “But we’re not in a town,” Tull said in rising exasperation. He cocked his head and gave her an intent scrutiny. “What are you up to?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “You’ve been acting peculiar since I rode up. Now you practically want to throw me back out.” Tull scratched the stubble on his chin. “It makes me think you’re up to something.”
    “Don’t be silly.”
    Tull ignored her. “I keep thinking of those boot tracks. And the sled sign. Where is he, woman?”
    “Where is who? You’ve already searched the whole cabin and didn’t find anyone.”
    “I think I’ll search again.” Tull rose and hooked a thumb in his belt near the pearl-handled Colt. “Only this time I’ll search in every little nook and cranny.”
    Fargo drew back. He was in no shape to go up against a man like Tull. If he had his Colt, it would be different. It didn’t take a lot of strength to thumb back a hammer or squeeze a trigger.
    “I resent this,” Mary said indignantly.
    “Do I look like I give a damn? How about if I start with the fireplace.”
    “Ma?” Nelly said.
    “Hush.”
    Tull’s boots moved out of sight and Fargo heard a metallic clang. A fireplace poker, he guessed. There were other sounds, thuds and scrapes, and then Tull exclaimed, “Well, what do we have here? Looks to me to be a bloody towel you tried to bury under these ashes.”
    “That old thing?” Mary said, stepping into view. “I stuck it in there days ago. I cut my finger peeling potatoes.”
    “There’s an awful lot of blood. Are you sure you didn’t cut off your whole hand?”
    “You’re not funny.”
    “I think I am. And lookee here. You say you cut yourself days ago? But when I picked up this towel, I got some of the blood on me.” Tull chuckled. “Here, girl. Catch.”
    “Don’t do that!” Nelly cried, and dashed to her mother, who took her into her arms.
    “That was uncalled for, Mr. Tull. I won’t have you scaring my children,” Mary said.
    “Hell. Can’t any of you take a joke?”
    Footsteps and jingling spurs came toward the bedroom. Tull stopped just inside and Fargo imagined him looking around.
    “You checked in there,” Mary said.
    “Did I?” Tull moved to the closet, opened it again, and squatted. He picked up a pair of shoes with holes in them. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so god-awful poor?”
    “We get by.”
    “You should stop saying no to Cud.