No Place to Hide (The Plains Series Book 4) by W.R. Benton

Author:W.R. Benton [Benton, W.R.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781944476540
Publisher: Loose Cannon Ent.
Published: 2017-07-21T00:00:00+00:00

The evening was warm, and not a cloud in the sky. The four men stood at the railing of the paddle-boat, making small talk. The gentle rocking of the boat had Jeremiah ill; it was his first time on a boat ever, and he was seasick. He'd skipped supper and was still in his bunk attempting to adjust to the constant movement of the vessel. Ty and the rest knew he'd eventually get over the movement of the boat, but it took time for some men.

Two days later they landed at the docks in New Orleans and Jeremiah was one happy young man. He'd been sick the whole way and hadn't cared for the trip at all, but even he had to admit it was faster than by horse or stage.

They got two rooms, with the young man sharing with Ty and Jarel. Jarel had been teaching the young man the Sioux tongue, while Ty was teaching him Indian sign language. He was a fast learner and seemed to be very skilled at languages, which meant he'd picked them up quickly. Ty recognized the simple fact that the young man would make a good mountain man, if he lived long enough. One mistake out west was usually a man's last.

The town had a different feel to it than Saint Louis and Jarel pointed out the French, while active in both cities, had developed New Orleans to be more European. The young man didn't know exactly what that meant, but he'd heard of Europe. He walked and looked, asking very few questions. While Deacon and Jeremiah were out strolling, Ty and Jarel were spreading the word about Smith and offering bounties for information. So far, they'd had no success.

Back in the room they discussed what they'd done, who they'd talked with, and what to expect next. All they could do now was wait.

Jeremiah had his full appetite back, and as a growing boy he ate anything he could digest. He was eating three meals a day now, with jerky in between meals. Jarel loved to see the young man eat, because he remembered being that age and the constant craving he had for more food.

“Tonight, and for as long as we're here, we'll be eating supper at saloons that offer free food for paying customers. Now, the bartenders I spoke with this morning offer shrimp, cornbread, soups, fish dried, fried or baked, crawdad tails and rice. Ya don't see many taters here, just rice.”

“Oh, I don't know if Jeremiah can live on just seafood and cornbread.” Deacon teased.

There sounded a light tap at the door to the room.

Ty pulled his hog leg, cocked it and made for the door. Cracking it open just a bit, he saw a filthy man he'd spoken with earlier, so he whispered, “What do ya need?”

“Ya still buying information about Smith?”

“Yep, and it brings top dollar too. Come in.”

After the man entered, Ty could smell him across the room.

“How'd ya like to know where the man is right now? Well, I know where he lives.

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