Blood Valley Read Online Free PDF Page A

there ’cause of Indian trouble. It’d been four years since the Little Big Horn fight and the following Injun wars. There was still a right smart amount of Injuns around, but this area was so populated, Injuns mostly stayed away. The Crow, Blackfeet, Flatheads, and Cheyenne was north of us, mostly up in Montana Territory.
    No, I had me a hunch that all this gun-totin’ didn’t have nothin’ to do with Injuns.
    I said as much to George Waller. Rusty had wandered off somewhere.
    â€œYes, it’s coming, Sheriff,” he admitted. “The lid could fly off the pot anytime.”
    I shoved my hat back and stared at him. Must have made him uncomfortable. He fidgeted some and said, “The cattlemen want the sheep out. Sheepmen say they’re staying. Two of the Big Three want the nesters out. Nesters say they’re here to stay.”
    â€œAnd the Arrow spread?”
    â€œRight in the middle with prime land. Good graze and good water. Circle L and Rockinghorse want that land bad.”
    Was that it? Was that all this was about? For sure, men have died for less. The lust for power does strange things to people sometimes.
    I nodded at George and walked out to the boardwalk.
    Strangest damn town I’d ever been in.
    Takin’ my time, I walked the boardwalk toward the schoolhouse, tippin’ my hat and smilin’ at the ladies, noddin’ to the menfolk.
    â€œComing to the social tonight, Sheriff?” a man inquired, friendly-like.
    â€œI’ll be there.”
    Walkin’ on up to the school, I seen a gaggle of womenfolks spreadin’ tablecloths out on long made-up tables. They was a-gigglin’ and a-carryin’-on like they do. They give me the once-over and some of ’em started whisperin’ amongst themselves and sneakin’ looks at me.
    I done a quick about-face and got the hell gone from there.
    Tell you the truth, womenfolk make me nervous. A sashayin’ and a-twitchin’ around. And you don’t never know what they’re thinkin’, neither. Give me a good horse and a good gun anytime. A dog is right nice to have around, too. A man can depend on them. And a good watch. I wanted me a good watch—one of them gold railroad watches, with a nice fob.
    Matter of fact, I seen some watches down at Waller’s Store. Come payday, by God, I’ll just get me one.
    Walkin’ back, I stopped midtown and stared at the comin’-up parade. There they was, comin’ in east by north, so it had to be the Circle L and Rockinghorse bunch. My, but they was makin’ a grand entrance. Like some of them. East Injun Pootentoots I’d read about. I wasn’t real sure what a Pooten-toot was, but I figured it was somebody who thought more of hisself than other folks did.
    I had to take me a second look to see for sure if that was the same woman that’d hollered like a whoor to have me run down day before. It was. But this time she was sittin’ in a surrey, and she was all gussied up in a fancy gown and was a-twirlin’ a little pink parasol.
    I leaned agin’ a post and watched the parade. Best shot I’d seen since I was a kid up on the Yellowstone and old lady McKinny got her dresstail caught in the door one windy day. Took it plumb off. She wasn’t wearin’ nothin’ under the gingham neither. I never saw such a sight in all my nine years of livin’. I run home and told my pa and he like to fell down he was laughin’ so hard. I told Momma and she whupped me.
    Took me years to figure that out.
    That older man sittin’ beside Joy—he wasn’t that old, maybe forty-five—that had to be her pa, ol’ A.J. hisself. I wondered it the J. stood for Joy. If so, his middle name was as strange as my last name.
    And there was Big Mike, sittin’ up on that big black of his, lookin’ like hell warmed over.
    And then I seen the outriders, and knew right off that the hundred and twenty-five I