Calamity Jane 1: Calamity, Mark and Belle (A Calamity Jane Western) by J. T. Edson

Author:J. T. Edson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Sample Book
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing
Published: 2018-04-30T23:00:00+00:00

Ten – Who Is Wild Bill Hickok?

‘BY cracky, mister, I wouldn’t’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen you do it,’ Calamity Jane declared, halting the vehicle and thinking how fortunate she was not to have been driving her more massive Conestoga wagon as raising it in such a fashion would be beyond even the tremendous strength of her gigantic rescuer.

‘Thanks.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ the Texan replied, then nodded towards the fire. ‘Would that be a coffeepot I see boiling up?’

‘It surely would,’ the girl confirmed. ‘Set and rest up a spell while I unhitch my team, then I’ll cook us both up a mess of victuals.’

‘That’s right neighborly of you-all,’ the blond giant asserted. ‘Fact being, I was figuring on finding some place to bed down for the night when I saw you.’

‘Here’d be as good a place’s anywhere around,’ Calamity remarked, in an off-hand tone which held neither a promise nor concern over having a stranger so close to her intended camp. ‘Fire’s going already and, even if I say it’s should, I’m a pretty fair hand at cooking.’

‘Gracias, I’ll take you up on your kind offer,’ the Texan replied. ‘But I’ve never been one for standing ’round and watching a lady working. So I’ll ’tend to my horse while you’re unhitching and cooking.’

After attending to his bloodbay stallion, the blond giant carried his saddle and the bedroll he had unstrapped from its cantle to the side of the fire. Dropping the latter, as no cowhand worth his salt would ever chance damaging his rig by standing it on its skirts, he set the former down on its right side. Doing so caused the Winchester Model of 1866 rifle in the saddleboot to be on top and available should it be needed.

With the needs of the horse satisfied, the Texan walked across and offered to help Calamity complete the unhitching of the team. Her first instinct was to refuse, but she decided he was likely to take her at her word and she was eager to get the task finished so she could prepare and eat a meal.

‘Going to say something?’ the big blond inquired.

‘Sure,’ the girl replied, annoyed that her rescuer had noticed she was about to speak and went on with the first thing to come into her mind. ‘I told you my name—!’

‘And now you’re wanting to know mine?’ the Texan guessed.

‘Me, heh!’ Calamity snorted, tossing her head back in an entirely feminine manner which failed to produce any response from the person at whom it was directed.

‘All right, keep it to yourself happen you’re so minded.’

‘His name’s “Counter”,’ the blond giant introduced. ‘My amigos call me “Mark”.’

It said much for the red head’s ability as a poker player that she was able to prevent her mixture of surprise and annoyance from showing. When she had first seen him and deduced he was a Texas cowhand of the first water, she had thought her rescuer might be Captain Dustine Edward Marsden ‘Dusty’ Fog. Discovering he did not wear his Army Colts in cross draw holsters had shown her she was in error.

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