Liza nodded and wiped her eyes. She left the bed sheet and hurried back to the house.

"I'm going to bury it," Andy said, staring at the creek. "Make sure this never happens again."

"That's a good idea," Tracker said, shaking mud off the vine.

"Give it back," Andy said.

Tracker looked at the vine. "I can't. The Doc needs to see it."

"Not that," he said impatiently. "My token. Give it back." He held out his hand.

"Andy," Ben said hesitantly. "I think you're bleeding."

"Give it back," he demanded.

Tracker placed the coin into his palm. Andy shoved it into his pocket. Rolling down his sleeves, he said, "By noon, this creek will be gone. I'll no longer suffer it."

Chapter Twenty-One.

It hadn't been much of a fight. Billy and Mary bickered with each other by the wagon, but it was hushed and no one could hear. Silas cupped his ear and leaned over so far that he nearly fell into the fire, but still had no luck.

Mary pointed a finger at her husband.

Billy shook his head and motioned to Jack and Charlie.

Finally, Mary nodded, turned on her heel, and marched back toward the fire pit.

"They're done," Silas said. "Looks like Billy got his way. Will wonders never cease."

When they broke camp, Mary sat in the wagon seat with Billy, while Jack, Silas, and Charlie sat in the back. If Charlie was offended by Mary's suspicion, he didn't show it. Jack figured he was just thankful to get a ride.

With a crack of the reins, they continued north, bouncing and jostling their way to Brush town. Although it was nice to be out of the sun and off their feet, they paid for it in noise. The axles rattled and the pots and pans clacked together. Silas jawed about his dream wh.o.r.e and even thought up a song about her. Jack tried to ignore it all by sitting on the edge of the wagon and watching the land, but it didn't help much. People and things always made such a racket. Especially people.

Once Silas had exhausted the topic of wh.o.r.es (which took a very, very long time), he started asking Charlie more questions about the Chewak. Was it true they ate the bones of their enemies? Was it true they could ride a buffalo like a horse? And, most importantly, was it true (as a friend named Picker Tom once told him), that all Indian women could cast spells?

Thinking about it, Charlie nodded and said, "Yes, it's all true. In fact, the most frightening sight in all of creation is an Indian woman riding a buffalo while waving a white man's leg bone. You see that, and you best run for your life. Because if she catches you, she'll turn you into a toad."

Silas's mouth fell open. "No," he said.

"A toad, if you're lucky," Charlie added.

"And what if you ain't so lucky?"

Charlie smiled. Leaning back, he tipped the bowler over his eyes and left Silas staring at him.

They stopped only once during the day. Mary built a small campfire and roasted some pork. She had five hunks of corn bread left and handed two to Jack. He a.s.sumed one was for Charlie. She sat close to her husband.

Billy asked Charlie to say grace.

"Of course," Charlie said.

After he finished, Silas twisted a finger in his ear, saying, "Yeah, you're a preacher all right. I could've reached Lone Pine, built my house, and planted my crops by now."

Mary swatted him and hazarded an apologetic glance at Charlie.

"It's all right," Charlie said, smiling at her.

She looked down at her food and ate quickly.

After eating, they lounged in the gra.s.s while Billy fed and watered the oxen. Compared to the wagon, Jack felt as if he were lying on a bed of goose down. He had nearly fallen asleep when Silas nudged his boot and said, "We're moving."

They walked after the wagon and climbed on. Silas jumped aboard, singing, "Go to town, look around, till you find your pain-ted cat. Pain-ted cats oh the pain-ted cats, fall in bed with a pain-ted cat!"

He clapped his hands and fell back into a sack of flour.

"Silas!" Billy barked.

While Silas rea.s.sured him the flour was fine, Jack turned back to the prairie. All day, he'd kept a look out for the black coyote but hadn't seen a thing. Perhaps the sight of Silas and Billy had scared it off. Perhaps it would finally leave him alone. Jack, of course, was doubtful. At one point, he saw Charlie watching the gra.s.s. He clearly had his doubts as well.

Trying to ignore his thoughts, Jack looked into the sky, eager for the sunset. A few more hours and it would melt like colored wax. No painting could match a prairie sunset. He'd seen some grand sunsets from Hannigan's Tree.

Who did this to you?

Some rancher. It don't matter, Jack.

You can't let them hurt you, Sally. Look at the bruises on your arm. You got all the colors of a sunset and then some.

So? It's sure as h.e.l.l not the first time.

Tell me who did it.

He's gone, you ninny, leave me alone!

"Jack?"

Jack lifted his head from the wagon bow. He turned his head to see Silas and Charlie staring at him. "Yeah?" he said.

"You hear Billy?" Silas said. "We're almost there."

Jack looked out the back of the wagon. The sun was almost gone. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A while," Charlie said.

"We tried to rouse you for a game of cards, but you were gone," Silas said. "Resting up for the girls, huh?"

From the front, Billy announced, "You got any weapons other than that rifle, you better get them out now."

"Rough town?" Charlie asked.

"Sure it's rough," Silas said. "But that ain't the reason. Brush is the stomping grounds of old Chuck Garnell."

"Who's that?" Jack asked.

"The sheriff of Brush," Billy yelled back. "Serious about firearms. If you don't surrender them willingly, he'll take them from you."

"That means he'll shoot you," Silas said, grinning.

They pa.s.sed a sign declaring: BRUSHTOWN.

And another sign below it: NO GUNS.

Jack leaned out of the wagon as they rolled into town. Brush was big, the size of two Gasher Creeks lashed together by side streets and back alleys. Although not a rusher town, the main thoroughfare was packed with traffic. On either side, rows of gaslights illuminated the sidewalk. They were choked with townsfolk buzzing in and out of the numerous stores and businesses: banks, cafes, restaurants, dry good stores and, of course, wh.o.r.e houses, gambling halls, and saloons.

Silas stuck his head out and inhaled deeply. "Can you smell that? Cheap cigars and perfume."

"All I smell is horses.h.i.t," Jack said.

"Look," Silas said, pointing. "The Lady Bird Saloon. I bet them girls make you feel like flying. What do you think, Jack?"

The wagon lurched to a stop and Silas nearly tumbled out. A man with a shotgun and a handlebar moustache appeared.

"Not in town a moment and we're already getting robbed?" Silas moaned. "Didn't you see the sign, mister?"

The man pointed to the deputy badge on his coat. "Out," he said, looking at Jack.

Jack stared back. This is it, he thought. They got you now- Jack slid out of the wagon and stood before the deputy. He waited for it, for Cole to appear from around the wagon, for Sheriff Tracker to exit from a saloon with his gun c.o.c.ked and aimed. He was such a fool. Of course they'd send a posse to Brush.

Swallowing, Jack raised his hands.

The deputy raised his gun.

Jack shut his eyes.

"I said all of you!" the deputy barked. "And bring your iron."

Charlie and Silas slid out. "Put your hands down, Jack," Silas whispered. "You look like a wanted man."

Jack dropped his hands.

"Follow me," the deputy said, his eyes locking on Charlie.

An older man, gripping a Remington .44, stood at the front of the wagon. His face, tanned and ruddy, looked cut from old saddle leather. A salt and pepper colored beard sprouted from his cheeks and chin like a wild bush. A gut, round as a washtub, threatened to swallow his belt. A sheriff's badge lay pinned to his coat. "Welcome to Brush," he said, his voice part gravel, part growl. "The name's Garnell."

"Billy Dorgan," Billy said. "This is my wife, Mary, and my brothers Silas, Jack, and Charlie."

Garnell looked at Charlie. "He your brother?"

"Yes he is."

The sheriff didn't look convinced, but said, "What's your business here?"

"Just pa.s.sing through. We'll be making camp on the other side of town."

"Yuh," Garnell said. "There's a train of wagons out there, all going to Lone Pine."

"That's where we're headed," Billy said.

Garnell holstered his gun. His deputies-one behind him and the one still staring at Charlie-kept their aim. "Were I a younger man, I'd make that trip myself," he said, winking at Mary. "Nothing like your own land."

"No sir," Billy said.

Garnell nodded. "Well folks, you're welcome to our stores and gaming establishments, but I must ask you to hand over all weapons and firearms for the remainder of your stay. When you're ready to leave, you just come on over to the sheriff's office."

Mary lowered the shotgun. Garnell touched the brim of his hat and took it from her. Charlie and Silas handed their guns to the deputy.

"Hold it," the deputy said. "This Indian speak English?"

"Sure he does," Silas said. "He can even quote you a poem if you fancy."

Scrutinizing Charlie, the deputy said, "Got any knives?"

"No," Charlie said.

He swatted at Charlie's pockets, his waist. He flipped Charlie's hat off. "Lift your cuffs," he said.

Charlie lifted his trouser cuffs. Nodding, the deputy said, "All right, then. Don't go causing a stir now."

"I won't."

"Good to hear," he said, and nodded to the sheriff.

"Thank you folks," Garnell said. "Enjoy your stay in Brush."

Billy thanked him and clicked the reins. Jack, Silas, and Charlie followed along on foot.

"Next time, turn him into goat," Silas whispered to Charlie.

As they reached the outskirts, Jack spotted a dozen campfires burning in the darkness. The wagons stood huddled around each other, some in a semicircle, others side by side. The women tended the campfires while the men stood together, talking and smoking their pipes. He smelled roasting meat and smoke.

Billy stopped the wagon and set the brake. "This is where we'll sit for the night," he said, climbing down. "I'll head into town for supplies while Mary starts supper. Jack, you're welcome to stay with us for the night, but I'll be wanting to know your direction come sun up."

Jack nodded, although he still had no idea.