Thunderhead Trail by Jon Sharpe Read Free Book Online Page B

the money three ways.”
    â€œNo, thanks,” Crown said. “Sixteen hundred dollars is a lot less than five thousand.”
    â€œWith the Blackfeet on the prowl, we’d be better off.”
    â€œThey don’t worry me none,” Crown said. “I’ve fought redskins before.” He touched his hat brim and departed.
    â€œWell, damn,” Dirk said, and faced Fargo. “How about you? I’m willing to settle for half if you are.”
    It wasn’t the money as far as Fargo was concerned. It was the fact he preferred to go it alone.
    â€œNever mind,” Dirk said. “I can tell by your face you’re not interested, either. It must be my breath.” He touched the brim of his high-crowned hat and left.
    Fargo turned to go and found his way barred by Esther, the old gal with the Dragoon. She was giving him a strange sort of scrutiny. “Ma’am?” he said.
    â€œYou know,” she said, “you look good enough to eat.”

14
    â€œA gal your age,” Fargo joked. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
    â€œA woman is never too old for
that
,” Esther said. “And I’ve gone without since my Charlie died.”
    â€œDon’t look at me.”
    â€œYou don’t like your women wrinkled like a prune?” Esther chuckled. “That’s all right. I see myself in the mirror every day. I wouldn’t hanker to give me a poke, either.”
    Fargo didn’t know what to say to that.
    â€œBut I didn’t come over to talk pokes. What do you say to the two of us partnering up? I cook better than most and I’ll use this cannon if I have to.” Esther patted the Colt Dragoon.
    â€œSorry. I like to ride alone.”
    â€œToo bad. Of all of them, I take you for the most trustworthy.”
    â€œYou don’t know me,” Fargo said.
    â€œTrue. But I read people real good. Comes from living so long. Oh, well.” Esther smiled and made off toward Humphries.
    â€œEnough of this,” Fargo said. It was time to get the hell gone. And he wasn’t the only one who thought so. Several would-be bounty hunters had peeled from the rest and climbed on their animals and gigged them toward the mountains.
    Fargo bent his steps toward the Ovaro, only to have Jim Tyler call his name and beckon.
    The rancher’s wife was at his side. A mousy little thing, she was wringing her hands and giving the departing riders an anxious look.
    â€œThis is Clementine, my wife,” Jim Tyler said. “She’d like a word with you.”
    â€œOh?” Fargo said. It seemed like everyone wanted one.
    â€œJim has told me who you are,” Clementine said. “That you’ve scouted for the army, and you have a reputation.”
    Fargo thought of all the women he’d bedded and the liquor he’d swilled and the countless nights of cards.
    â€œI’ve never claimed to be a churchgoer.”
    â€œWhat? No. Jim tells me you’re an honorable man.”
    Fargo figured the rancher must have him confused with some other scout. Or with Daniel Boone, maybe.
    â€œHe says you always do what’s right.”
    Now Fargo was sure the rancher was mistaken. “I do what’s right for me, ma’am.” He almost added that he didn’t much give a damn about anyone else.
    â€œI’d like for you to do me a favor,” Clementine said. “I’m willing to pay you out of my own purse for your trouble.”
    â€œI wish you wouldn’t,” Jim said. “There’s no need.”
    â€œI say there is.” Clementine took Fargo aback by clasping his hand. “You’ve seen these folks?” She indicated the dispersing riders, some with pack animals in tow. “What’s your opinion of them?”
    â€œThey’re pitiful,” Fargo said.
    â€œThat’s my assessment, too. I can’t help but think that some of them won’t make it back. And I wouldn’t