No Man's Land by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2016-09-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

As slow as the wagons were, they still moved faster than the ambling Double Diamond herd. Perkins wanted the cattle to be as fat as possible when they got to the market, so he let them laze along and didn’t rush them.

Frank had a three-day lead by the time the wagons rolled into the outskirts of Pueblo. They pulled to a stop next to a line of scrubby cedars by the dilapidated remnants of on old log-and-stone structure.

The closer they got to the town, the more animated Otis Chapmen became. He asked Frank a number of questions about the surrounding country, particularly the area to the north, toward the big gorge.

“You ever hear of a place called Cripple Creek?” he asked, out of earshot of all the others.

“Sure, Canyon City’s about forty miles that way.” Frank pointed to the northwest with an open hand. “The place you’re lookin’ for is a bit north of Canyon City.” The gunfighter grinned. “Your secret’s safe with me. I never had the lust for gold.”

“I didn’t fool you much, did I?”

“I’ve seen people with gold fever before, Otis. It’s what brought all these women out here with their husbands in the first place. Some folks strike it rich, others don’t. No matter how you look at it, from what I’ve seen it’s mighty hard work for what you get back.”

Chapman nodded. “I suppose I’m after the adventure more than the gold.”

“Good to hear. The search for gold generally amounts to a fool’s errand, but if you got your heart set on it, and that kind of attitude, I say Godspeed. When are you pulling out?”

Otis pranced like a horse left too long in the starting gate. “As soon as we can provision up. Salina and I are anxious to get up there and stake a small claim.”

“Make certain you get enough to last the winter.” He shook the man’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure knowing you and your family, Mr. Chapman.”

“The pleasure was all ours. I’d say we’ll meet again one day.”

Not one for prolonged good-byes, Frank tipped his hat to Salina and the boys. “Hope so,” he said, and went to find Dixie.

* * *

“Chapmans are leaving us,” he said when he found Dixie at her wagon. He leaned against the wagon wheel and rolled himself a smoke while he watched her. She puttered around the camp, tying off the cook tarp, unpacking utensils, and taking stock of what they might need to buy in town.

“Where are the girls?” Frank asked.

“Gone on in with everyone else. They promised to stay with Betty and keep out of trouble.”

Frank nodded. “How long ago did they leave?”

“Ten—fifteen minutes. George and Paula said they’d come back about three and stay with the stock while we go in. Look at these peppers, Frank.” Dixie held up two-foot-long string of bright red chilies. “A sweet old Mexican woman in a red scarf came out and sold them to me—along with some fresh tortillas. I thought we could have chili tonight.

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