An Occurrence in Crazy Bear Valley Read Online Free PDF Page A

it up,” Morgan said. “Probably to keep you from running off at night.”
    “Or maybe,” Clara said slowly, “she’s making it up now just to fool with us. Maybe she figures if she can scare us with this bullshit, we’ll ride off and leave her behind.”
    Morgan grinned. “You wouldn’t do that now, would you, Crystal? You wouldn’t lie to me. Not after I set you free.”
    “No, I sure wouldn’t.” Crystal’s eyes grew wide. “I swear, I’m not lying. That’s what O’Bannon always said. Every word of it is true, just like he told me”
    Morgan stood up and slowly unbuckled his belt. His eyes never left hers.
    “Well,” he said, still smiling, “whether the crazy bears are real or not, I reckon you’ll be safe tonight. You won’t get much sleep—but you’ll be safe.” Morgan walked across the shack and stood before her, his belt and pants undone. “Time to earn your keep, darlin’.”
    Crystal hesitated for a moment, and then reached for him. Grinning, Johnson and Parker joined Clara on the other bed. Shaking his head, Stephens blew out the lamp and lay down to sleep. Gunderson sat by the window, alert and awake. He remained motionless, except to occasionally lean over and spit tobacco juice.
    Night fell on the valley.
     
     
     
    THREE
     
     
    Gunderson shivered. It had been several hours since the cries, moans, creaks, grunts and smacks coming from the cots had finally died down, replaced with snores and the occasional muffled snatch of sleep-talk. The temperature inside the drafty cabin had dropped noticeably. He could see his breath in front of his face each time that he exhaled.
    Farther down in the valley, the river sparkled and shimmered like polished glass in the moonlight. The forest had been quiet during the day, but it was alive now. An owl called out from a shadowed copse of pines, its cry haunting and melancholy. Insects buzzed and sang. The tree-tops swayed slightly, rocking in the breeze. It would have been enough to lull anyone else to sleep, but Gunderson had always been a night person. He felt more awake—more alive—after the sun went down, and the darkness, combined with the chilly temperature, kept him focused and alert now.
    Rubbing his hands together, he shifted slightly in his chair and tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck and back. The pops sounded very loud in the small shack. He glanced over at the others, but none of them stirred. When Gunderson’s stomach growled a few moments later, Stephens grunted in response and then went back to snoring. Otherwise, nobody woke. Gunderson breathed a sigh of relief. Morgan, especially, was a notoriously light sleeper. Gunderson could only assume that his prior activities with the new girl had worn the boss man out.
    He glanced back out the window and tried to ignore the stiffness in his joints. Gunderson knew that he wasn’t a spring chicken anymore, but the pains had been growing worse over the last year, and that worried him. He hadn’t mentioned it to the others, but he knew that Morgan had noticed. The boss didn’t miss a damn thing. As if reading his thoughts, Morgan sighed softly in his sleep. Gunderson turned back to him.
    Out in the darkness, the owl hooted again as Gunderson studied his sleeping companions. Parker had opted for one of the empty bunks after he and Johnson had finished with Clara. The man’s pasty white buttocks rose and fell in time with his breathing. Johnson and Clara were entangled on another bunk, legs entwined, breathing into each other’s face as they slept. Stephens was curled into the fetal position, his expression slack and content. Occasionally, he snored—a raucous, staccato sound that always left Gunderson wondering if the fat man was dying. Morgan slept on his back, pistol within reach. Crystal slept on the floor beside him. Morgan had been enough of a gentleman to give the girl a spare pillow and a thin, coarse blanket.
    Gunderson had never slept with Clara. He’d