The
food was delicious with an underlying flavor that
Wasey couldn't put his finger on.
"Dang
but this is fine tasting grub, Walt. If yore breakfast
is half as good as yore supper, I can well understand
why Pig Face kept you around." He took a bite of
biscuit
and
savored the taste. "Is that cinnamon I taste in them
biscuits? And what's that flavor in the stew?"
"It's
in da biscuits and da stew." Walter replied. "I put
cinnamon in almost everydin' I cook."
"It
appears Cade likes yer cookin' too, Mister Born With
A Tooth."
Cade
finished shoveling the rest of his plate into his
mouth and then got up to get some more. "Fair dinkum,
that's the best food I've tasted since I left Peace
River Town."
"So
what the hell are you doing out here?" Wasey asked.
"The last I saw you was helpin' Jacque at the trading
post."
"I
reckon after six months I'd had enough clerkin' at
the Company Store. The jobs steady and I reckon the
excitement is too." Cade paused "Anyway, in the middle
of January old Glenn Henson comes to the store. You
remember Henson. . .been trappin' out here forever.
Well, turns out he's had enough and he's goin' to
take the train back east and live with his recently
widowed sister. I asked Glenn if it'd be 'right and
use his cabin, it bein' a shame to waste a good cabin.
Dead set, so Glenn draws me a map and tells me to
help myself. The next day I'm on the trail."
"Jacque
must have been thrilled with yer leaving." Wasey laughed,
"What'd he say?"
"'Course
he tries to talk me out of it, telling me it's too
soon after I got back my health to take a risk like
that, but ever since. . ."Cade dug the rubber ball
out from the waistband of his pants and tossed it
to Wasey. "I started squeezin' that ball I've been
getting' the dexterity back in me hand. Since that
happened I've been lookin' for an excuse to get away
from town for awhile.
"Fair
dinkum, you should of seen Jacque the morning I left.
The old bugger was givin' it to me in two languages.
Bitchin' about deserting my job and telling me I should
at least wait until he found a replacement, and on
and on." Cade laughed, "I think Jacque likes
havin' me around, but he's afraid to admit it. I'm
the only one in that whole town who ever tells him
he's full of shit. A person needs to be told that,
every so often, what ya reckon?"
"I'll
agree to that." Wasey could see the real reason Cade
wanted to get out by himself. "How many rounds fer
the pistol did you bring out with yer?"
"Tarnation
Cade!" Wasey laughed, "With all that blastin' going
on it's a miracle I didn't hear ya. We couldn't have
been mor'n two or three hundred miles from each other."
He added dryly, "Small wonder yer got such a good
batch of furs. Those animals yer didn't shoot outright
likely succumbed from fright.
"So
where'd yer get the money for the ammo and the rest
of yer grubstake? I thought Roberts got all yer cash."
"He
did, but I had enough for ammo and when Jacque saw
I wasn't going to be dissuaded," Cade laughed, "he
outfitted me, sayin' lack of equipment wasn't going
to be my death. We had an understanding that should
I survive the winter I'd pay him back from the sale
of my furs."
Wasey
could just see Jacque haranguing Cade while he stomped
around the trading post gathering supplies. "Well
cousin I'm happy yer hands almost back to normal and
I figure yer'll have a nice jingle in yer britches
even after payin' Jacque back. What with collectin'
the reward on Pig Face, and all."
"You
mean we don't you?" Cade corrected Wasey. "You were
in on it too. We'll split the reward on Pig Face."
"All
right Cade, that's damn fair of ya. And we may as
well split the reward on Davey, over there, while
we're at it."
Wasey
got up for some more food. "So Davey Otter. What's
the reward for yore capture?"
"Only
five hundred." Davey replied with a sour face. "Dat's
too little considerin' Pig Face's reward is twenty-five
hundred. Hardly seems fair."
Wasey
burst out laughing. "But yer just a little inconvenience
compared ta Pig Face Boucher. That crazy Metis was
terrorizing the northwest fer the last ten years."
"Ya.
. .and who do yer dink was ridin' with him?"
"Well,"
Cade offered, "you can rest assured if it was up to
my mate and I, the bounty on yer ass would be the
same as Pig Faces."
"Danks
McCord," Otter smiled, " that's decent of yer ta say
dat."
Wasey
was finding it hard to believe what he was hearing.
That crack Otter got from the rifle butt must have
addled the man's brains. Wasey poured a cup of coffee
and spooned some more stew on his plate. "How 'bout
it Walt, yer ready for some more of this choice stew
and another biscuit?"
"No
danks, I've had my fill."
Wasey
nodded and then shared the last four biscuits with
Cade. He scrapped the rest of the stew onto a plate
and gave it to Davey Otter.
"Dat's
it? Just dis little bit of stew?" Otter complained.
"What about a biscuit? Can't you mecs give
me one? Give me da smallest one, I won't complain."
"I
reckon yer wouldn't, yer brazen bastard." Wasey snarled.
"Yer should be thankful yer getting fed at all!" He
was finding it hard to believe that Davey didn't understand
the pickle he was in. "I'd be more concerned about
the necktie party yer goin' to be attendin', then
about one dern biscuit."
"Can't
yer at least untie my hands? How's a mec supposed
ta eat?"
"Davey
yer stompin' on thin ice and if'n yer say another
word that stews going back in the pot!"
Wasey meant his words and Otter knew it 'cause the
man balanced the plate on his knees and grasped the
spoon with both his hands. The outlaw gave him a furtive
glance and started shoveling the stew into his mouth
as fast as he could. Wasey shook his head, still flustered
at Otter's brass. He should have just shot the bastard
and rote it down to a bad case of nerves.
This
is an excerpt from Chapter Two of The Last Best West
by Longfellow Deeds. Copyrite © 2002 All rights
Reserved. No portion or part maybe reproduced by any
physical, mechanical or electronic means. Please
contact us at
for further information
or assistance.
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