Grizzly Fury

Petty’s head snapped around as if he were a turkey gobbler that had heard the call of a rival. “So that’s what this is, is it?”

“Mayor?” Rooster said.

“I only have your word for it that there’s another bear,” Petty said. “Maybe there isn’t. Maybe you concocted this tale to try and get more money.”

“We didn’t concoct the dead family,” Rooster said.

“No, I doubt you’d lie about something like that.”

Rooster pushed out of his chair and stabbed a finger at the mayor. “But we’d lie about a second bear? Is that it? Why, you miserable son of a bitch.”

“Here now,” Petty said. “I won’t be talked to like that.”

“You just called us liars, damn you. If I was twenty years younger I’d bust you one. I still might, if you call me a liar again.” Rooster marched to the door and swept it open. “Coming, pard?”

Fargo went out and closed the door and stared at Rooster, who was muttering to himself.

“What?” the old scout demanded.

“You’re a silver-tongued devil,” Fargo said.

The Nesmith family was well liked, and the news of their deaths spread like a prairie fire. So did news of a second bear. By the middle of the morning another exodus of bear hunters had taken place.

Fargo and Rooster weren’t among them. They drank and played cards at the Three Deuces and discussed how they were to find their elusive quarry.

“If all we do is go look for tracks every time somebody is killed, it could be months before Brain Eater is careless enough that we get a shot at him,” Rooster summed up their situation.

Fargo would rather not spend that long at it, and said so.

“As for this new bear, it may never kill again. People, I mean. Bears don’t usually make a habit of it, thank God.”

“Man-killers are rare,” Fargo agreed, and was refilling his glass when the batwings parted and in strode Moose. Behind him filed Cecelia Mathers and her three children.

The bartender was wiping the bar and hollered, “Hey, lady. What did I tell you about bringing those kids in here?”

“They’re mine and they go where I go,” Cecelia said.

“I could get in trouble.”

“Anyone says anythin’, you send them to me and I’ll box their ears,” Cecelia returned. “Now shush or I’ll box yours.”

The bartender opened his mouth to respond but closed it again and shook his head.

“Morning, fellers,” Moose said. He was grinning and looked fit to bust with the news he wanted to share. “You’ll never guess what I did.”

“You partnered up with Cecelia,” Fargo said.

Moose’s jaw fell. “How did you guess?”

Rooster snorted. “It was easy, you lunkhead.”

“Don’t insult my man,” Cecelia said, “or you’ll answer to me.”

“Your man?” Rooster repeated. He looked from Moose to her and back again, and laughed. “Damn, Moose. When you partner up, you really partner up.”

Fargo almost laughed, too, when Moose blushed.

“Enough about us,” Cecelia said. “We came here to talk.”

She turned to her offspring. “Abner, Thomas, Beth, I want the three of you to go sit by that wall there and don’t let out a peep until I call you.”

“Yes, Ma,” the oldest boy said, and he and his siblings dutifully obeyed.

“Now then,” Cecelia said, pulling out a chair. “Moose, you sit here.”

The big bear hunter sank down as meekly as a kitten and placed his rifle on the table.

“Ain’t life grand?” Rooster said.

Cecelia claimed the last chair and speared a finger at Rooster. “I ain’t dumb and I won’t be teased.”

“He’s teasing you?” Moose said.

“He’s teasin’ us,” Cecelia said. “But never you mind. He’s your friend so we’ll let it pass.” She sat back. “Now then. I don’t believe in beatin’ around the bush so let’s get right to it. Moose and me did a lot of talkin’ last night—”

“Is that all?” Rooster interrupted her, and winked at Moose.

Moose did more blushing.

“Consarn you.” Cecelia’s hand came from under the table. She had produced a derringer from the folds in her dress, and thunked it down, saying, “Mr. Strimm, I am tryin’ to be polite. You’re an ornery cuss so you can’t help bein’ contrary but there is only so much I’ll take.” Rooster went to say something but she held up her hand. “I ain’t done. You poke fun at us but you have no idea what it’s like to be a widow alone with three small children, and how hard it is to find a good man willin’ to accept you and them. And I do mean good. Not someone like you who’d poke a gal and go his merry way but a man who’d stick. So I’m tellin’ you. Make fun of my Moose again and I’ll shoot you.”

“I’m your Moose?” Moose said.

“You are after last night.”

“Oh.”

“Well now,” Rooster said.

Cecelia looked at Fargo. “How about you, mister? You don’t say much, do you?”

Fargo raised his glass. “Here’s to the happy couple,” he said.

“Now that’s better.” Cecelia smiled. “And we thank you. But Moose and me didn’t come here to talk about us. We’ve got a plan to collect the bounty but we can’t do it alone and Moose said we should ask you two first because he likes you.”

“Ask us what?” Rooster said.