Apache Ambush

The mere thought of food made Fargo’s stomach try to crawl up his throat. Shaking his head, he moved to the window. Freight wagons lined the street from end to end. The teams were mules, not oxen, which made sense given that although oxen were stronger and hardier, mules were faster, and in Apache country speed counted far more than strength. The quicker Cranmeyer reached Silver Lode, the less time he and his wagons spent on the trail, and the higher the likelihood he would get there alive.

Just then Fargo spied Cranmeyer and Krupp over by one of the wagons. He remembered Cranmeyer saying how he would change his mind about accompanying the freight train, and chuckled.

‘‘What do you see?’’ Tilly inquired.

‘‘A gent who is a flop at predicting the future.’’ Fargo gazed at the enclosure over the hot springs. After his coffee he would mosey on over and sweat the liquor out of his system.

‘‘Any sign of the triplets?’’

‘‘The who?’’ Fargo responded.

‘‘The Frazier girls. The mule skinners. They are as alike as three peas in a pod. Wherever they go, they are an attraction. Men drool and the womenfolk are jealous.’’

‘‘Does that include you?’’ Fargo teased.

‘‘I admit I feel a pang of green,’’ Tilly revealed. ‘‘God saw fit to grace them with uncommon beauty.’’

‘‘You are an eyeful yourself.’’

‘‘Why, thank you, kind sir,’’ Tilly said with self-deprecating humor. ‘‘But I know my limitations. And I am telling you those three are as perfect as the female form can be.’’

‘‘I will believe it when I see one,’’ Fargo said offhandedly.

‘‘Most likely you will find them over at the saloon. That is where they usually deport themselves.’’

‘‘You don’t say,’’ Fargo said. Except for doves like Tilly, most females avoided saloons as if afraid to step through the batwings for fear of coming down with a case of bad morals.

‘‘I know you do not believe me but you will when you see them. They are an eyeful and then some.’’

‘‘I have met a lot of eyefuls,’’ Fargo told her.

Tilly looked up from the stove. ‘‘Not like those three. All that beauty, yet they hold their own with men.’’

‘‘There you go again.’’

‘‘For better or worse, this is pretty much a man’s world. I mean, men control things, don’t they? More than they should, if you ask me. But be that as it may, the Frazier girls have done what most women only dream of doing. They are equal to men in every respect.’’

The feeling in her voice surprised him.

‘‘I would love to be as they are but I lack the gumption. I am content doing what I do.’’

Fargo walked over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘‘You won’t hear me complain.’’

Grinning, Tilly returned the favor. ‘‘I don’t expect you to understand. You are a man. You have never been treated as women are treated. We are second-rate citizens. Hell, we don’t even have the right to vote.’’

‘‘I could really use that coffee,’’ Fargo said.

Tilly laughed. ‘‘See? You are a typical male. You don’t even want to hear what I have to say.’’

‘‘I am a male with an avalanche between my ears,’’ Fargo set her straight, ‘‘and I want it to stop.’’

‘‘Serves you right,’’ Tilly teased, and then stiffened when loud knocking shook the front door.

‘‘Expecting company?’’ Fargo asked.

Shaking her head, Tilly went over but she did not open it. ‘‘Who’s there?’’ she nervously demanded.

‘‘The name is Krupp, Miss Jones. I work for Tim Cranmeyer.’’

‘‘What do you want?’’

‘‘Mr. Cranmeyer sent me to talk to your guest. I cannot go until I have, so please, make this easy and have him come to the door. I promise that I mean him no harm.’’

‘‘My guest?’’ Tilly said.

‘‘We know Fargo spent the night with you but that is neither here nor there. What you do is your own affair. All Mr. Cranmeyer wants is a few words with him.’’

Fargo saw no sense in pretending not to be there. ‘‘Go pester someone else. I told your boss before and I am telling you now that I am not interested.’’

‘‘He says it is important.’’

‘‘Not to me,’’ Fargo said.

‘‘I will wait out here until you show yourself and then I will take you to him,’’ Krupp informed him.

Fargo did not like the sound of that. Striding to the door, he yanked it open. ‘‘You are welcome to try,’’ he said.

‘‘I have no interest in fighting you,’’ Krupp assured him. ‘‘I am only doing what I was told.’’

‘‘Keep on doing it,’’ Fargo said. ‘‘Let your boss know that if he bothers me one more time, there will be hell to pay.’’

‘‘You can let him know yourself,’’ Krupp said, and motioned. ‘‘After you, if you don’t mind.’’

‘‘I do,’’ Fargo said. He was fast losing his patience. ‘‘Now scat, you big lump.’’

Krupp let out a sigh. ‘‘Mr. Cranmeyer said you would say that. He also said you would take special convincing. ’’ Raising his arm, he snapped his fingers. ‘‘I envy you.’’

‘‘What the hell are you babbling—’’ Fargo began, and caught himself as astonishment flooded through him. He looked, and blinked, and said the first thing that popped into his head. ‘‘I’ll be damned.’’

7