William Johnstone - Winter Kill

“Just do it!”

Hopkins laid a heavy revolver on the table and stood up. He glared at Frank as he moved toward the doorway.

Frank got to his feet, keeping his Colt in his hand. The men drinking in Clancy’s must have sensed that something was going on, and at the sight of Yeah Mow’s gun and now Frank’s, they knew it. Most of them headed for the door, eager to get out of the line of fire if gunplay broke out.

“You’re going to walk me back to the hotel, Soapy,” Frank said.

“The hell I will,” Smith snarled.

“It’s that or I gun you down right here and now and take my chances.”

Their eyes dueled for a second; then Smith muttered a curse and stood up. “All right. But you’re gonna regret this, Morgan.”

“Now, you see, that’s another mistake.”

“Another?”

“Your first was thinking that I’d ever throw in with a polecat like you,” Frank said. “It’ll be your second if you don’t let this go. You see, I didn’t come to Skagway to clean up the town or anything like that, Smith. I don’t like you, and somebody ought to put a stop to what you’re doing here, but I have another chore I need to take care of, namely keeping a promise to an old friend and getting those women to Whitehorse. We’ll be leaving tomorrow, and if you and your boys don’t bother us in the meantime, we won’t bother you. But if anything does happen…I’ll be coming for you, Soapy. And that’s a promise, too.”

“You always act so high-handed with folks, Morgan?”

“Only those who deserve it.”

Muttering under his breath, Smith turned toward the door. Frank followed closely behind him, gun still drawn. As they stepped out onto the plank sidewalk, Frank glanced in both directions. He saw Yeah Mow Hopkins standing nearby, along with Big Ed Burns and the opium addict, Sid Dixon. There was no sign of Joe Palmer.

“If Palmer tries to bushwhack me, my thumb’s going to slip off this hammer, sure as hell,” Frank told Smith. “At this range, the slug will blow your spine clean in two. I’d speak up if I was you.”

“You’re trying to make a fool of me in front of the whole town,” Smith said between clenched teeth.

“You made a fool of yourself when you asked me to help you turn those women into whores.”

Smith took a deep breath, then said in a loud voice, “I’m gonna walk over to the hotel with Morgan. Nobody better bother us.”

Frank nodded. “Go ahead.”

With Smith in front, the two of them walked around the corner toward the hotel. As they approached, Pete Conway stepped out of the livery stable across the street, holding a rifle. “Are you all right, Frank?” he called.

“Yeah, fine,” Frank replied. Dog stepped out of the stable as well and stood there stiff-legged, the fur on his back ruffled with anger. Frank knew that at a word from him, the big cur would bound across the street in the blink of an eye and rip Smith’s throat out before anyone could stop him.

The two of them came to a stop on the hotel porch. Frank said, “You can send Salty’s gold over here to the hotel. I’ll see that it gets to him, and I’ll expect it before ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“You believe in pushing your luck, don’t you?” Smith said.

“It’s not luck if you can back it up. And I can, Soapy. Don’t doubt that for a second. I’ve been through all sorts of hell getting here with those women, and I’m not going to let a second-rate crook like you stop us now. So take my advice. Return the old man’s gold, let us go on about our business, and you go on about yours. Just forget we ever came to Skagway.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

From the hollow sound of Smith’s voice, Frank knew that was unlikely.

“Go on back to Clancy’s. I don’t expect to see you again.”

Smith stalked off without a word. As soon as he was gone, Conway hurried across the street, along with Jennings and Dog.

“What the hell happened?” Conway wanted to know. “How come you marched Smith over here at gunpoint?”

“He did something that bothered me,” Frank said. “He suggested that I partner up with him so we could put the ladies to work as soiled doves.”

“You mean he wanted to turn Jessica into—” Conway’s hands tightened on his rifle. “I ought to go down to that saloon and—”

“It’s already taken care of.” Quickly, Frank related the highlights of the conversation in Clancy’s and its outcome.

Jennings said, “Do you really think he’ll return the old man’s gold and leave us alone?”

“That would be the smart thing to do. We’re not trying to drive him out of power here in Skagway. He can go on fleecing the citizens until they decide they’ve had enough of him…or he can try to stop us from leaving and wind up with a war on his hands. So tell me, Bart…how smart is he?”

“He’s smart, all right,” Jennings said, “smart as he is crooked. But he’s loco, too, and he may lean more on his pride than his brain when he goes to makin’ up his mind what to do.”

“In that case,” Frank said with a slight smile, “we may have to fight our way out of here.”

Now that Smith knew Salty was one of Frank’s allies, Frank didn’t think it was safe for the old-timer to stay at the shack alone. He sent Conway to fetch him and left Dog at the stable to guard the horses. Then he called the women together in the hotel to explain the situation to them.

“Why, that…that scoundrel!” Fiona exclaimed when she heard what Smith had proposed to do. “You should have shot him, Frank!”

“I thought about it,” Frank admitted wryly. “I figured that might just shake things up even worse, though. At least Smith has some control over what happens around here. If he was dead, all hell might break loose. The important thing is that we get out of Skagway and get started toward Whitehorse as soon as possible. Until we do, I want all of you to be alert. Keep your guns handy, and don’t be afraid to use them.”

Meg pushed her blond hair back off her forehead. “We should set up some sort of schedule for standing guard, and maybe we should all be in the same room.”

Frank nodded and said, “I was thinking the same thing. It’ll be crowded, but at least you can keep an eye on each other that way.”

“What are you going to do?” Fiona asked.

“As soon as Conway gets back with Salty, we’re going to start getting ready to leave early tomorrow morning. I want to line up our dogs and sleds and supplies today, if I can.”

“We have to go by dogsled?” Marie asked.

“Part of the way, according to Salty. We’ll take the horses as far as we can.” Frank paused. “It’ll be a rough trip, make no mistake about that. But we’ll get through, and once we get to Whitehorse, you’ll have your new husbands to rely on. It’ll be all right.”

They seemed to take some comfort from his encouraging words, but a sense of worry still hung over the group. Frank understood that well enough. He was worried himself.

He became more so when he stepped outside and saw that the leaden sky had started spitting down snowflakes. The snow was falling only lightly now, but as he gazed up at the clouds, he had a hunch it was going to get worse. If a blizzard blew in tonight, they might not be able to take the horses at all and would have to leave Skagway by dogsled.

They had come too far to turn back now, he told himself, and besides, with Soapy Smith as an enemy, it wouldn’t be safe to try to spend the winter in Skagway. They had to make the run to Whitehorse.

Conway came along a few minutes later with Salty Stevens. The old-timer said to Frank, “The young fella tells me you had a big fallin’-out with Soapy on account o’ me.”

“That wasn’t all of it, by any means,” Frank said.