Chapter 12

The bad part was I already had my mind on Helga and her fabulous body. The even worse part? It was only a little after one now. I saddled Bob and took off for a looksee at the outer edges of the fort, such as it was.

Even though it wasn't such a much as a town, it was still sectioned off sorta. Things weren't quite as pronounced as they would have been back in the east, but there were a few houses that looked pretty nice in one spot and some that seemed almost respectable in another.

Then there was shantytown. You couldn't really call these hovels houses even though they were habitations for human living, sorta. Most of them looked like they'd been thrown together with whatever could be found, stolen, or maybe even bought if it could be had cheap enough. There seemed to be an Indian female in residence at almost every one of them and often as not the was an obviously drunk Indian male laying around close somewhere. Usually there was a naked kid or two playing in the dirt.

I rode on off from shantytown without taking too close a look. I didn't want to spend much time thinking about what whiskey peddlers had let Indians do to themselves. That wasn't really the whole truth though.

Indians were people too, and they had the same weaknesses white people did. They couldn't resist the lure of the white man's technology and of his whiskey. The two civilizations should have never been mixed. Then again, there was no stopping them once European peasants found out about free land and a chance to have a meaningful life with a place of their own.

There wasn't one thing I could do to solve the problems of the world though. I was as busy as a cat covering up shit taking care of my own problems.

Bob was turning out to have smarts to match his physical attributes. It didn't take us long to come to an understanding, and within an hour I could provide plenty of guidance for him in most situations, without the bother of handling the reins. A little pressure on one leg or the other did fine for steering, and a forward or backward lean was cue enough for him to move out, or stop. Bob also had the most valuable trait of a smart riding horse. He paid attention to what the rider was trying to tell him.

A couple of hours on Bob let me know for sure I'd come across another damned good horse, and even cheaper than I got Red. Red was no slouch himself, and he'd already showed Bob who was the fastest overall. Red didn't have Bob's natural ability with cows but he could deal with them. They were both probably better horses than I deserved, but then again I was the herd bull for a hell of a lot more pretty women than I deserved too. That didn't mean I wouldn't try to cover another one if I got the chance.

"Hey mister. Wait up," a man called to me from the porch of a small store of some kind.

I reined in, bailed off, and tied Bob to the hitch rail in front. Hell, I didn't have anything to occupy myself right now and he'd sounded like he was issuing an invitation for an hour or so in a bullshit session. If he was a local he might even have some actual useful information.

"What ya got on your mind bud?"

"Well, I's just sittin' on my lazy ass here in front of my shop and you come ridin' by on the best Steel Dust I ever seen. Least he looked that way at first glance. I hollard ya down to see iffen you'd mind if I gave him a look see. Jasper Norwood's my name."

"Frank Grogan's mine and since I know you'll be braggin' on Bob after you get a better look I don't mind if you do," I told him.

He got up off his chair and stood near me. He looked Bob over from one end to the other and then asked if he could take the saddle off so he could have a better look at his back and the top of his hips. I didn't give a shit so I let him.

"That's a damned fine horse Frank. Mind tellin' where you got him?"

"Not a bit. I took him out from under a young brave a week or so back down the trail. The son-of-a-bitch stolt one of my daughters and run off with her while the train I was in was tryin' to ford the Republican," I said, and I could see by Jasper's look he wanted to say I could be lying but wasn't about to.

"You know much about a Steel Dust Jasper?" I asked.

"I hope to shout I do, and I'm wondering how you ever caught the Indian. That's what I'm wonderin'."

"My other horse is a pretty good one too. I got him when I come through Kentucky. Bob's a damned fast horse, but Red ain't no slouch, and in 'bout four mile he run Bob down and I shot the buck," I said.

"Oh, then that don't even sound like a tall tale. I'll bet you lost ground at first though, didn't ya?"

"I said I was on a Kentucky horse didn't I? Of course I lost ground at first. I might have give up if it wasn't my daughter he was stealing, but I doubt it. I'd a done it all for the girl, but Bob just turned out to be a big bonus. I got a nice flint knife and tomahawk outta the deal too."

"Sounds to me like you done a good days work for it all. Too damned bad the Injun didn't have no saddle that fit him right."

"Well, you can't have everything, and I'm gonna buy him a damned good saddle of his own soon as I find one."

"Keep talking Frank, keep talking. Have you got any cash money?" Jasper asked, and I wondered why. He sure as hell wasn't gonna try to rob me in broad daylight, especially since he wasn't even wearing a gun.

"As a matter of fact I do have some gold in my pocket, but we ain't going into the story of how I come by that."

"Don't worry, even old Jasper ain't that nosey. Come on in my shop and let me show you something," he said, and headed that way.

I laughed when I went through the door cause Jasper was a saddle maker. He walked right to one and claimed it would fit Bob perfectly, and it sure looked like it would. Jasper did good work too. It didn't take five minutes to convince myself of that.

"Did you stop me just to make a sale?" I asked, but was smiling when I did.

"Not prezactly. I wanted a better look at the hoss, but I'll admit I could see the saddle you was ridin' didn't fit him so good."

"Well you done me a favor cause I never even knew you was a saddle maker. You oughta put up a sign or something. Let's go see how this thing sits on Bob's back."

He grabbed up a new Navajo blanket off a stack of nice ones and I picked up the saddle. When we put them together with Bob it was perfect. I could tell just by lookin'.

"Fork him and give it a try. I can look and see everything's just right, but I want you to be sure."

"I'm gonna, cause I want me to be sure too."

"Bob and I made a round around town for about fifteen minutes and then came back to Jasper's shop. I got off and tied Bob up again."

"Well, what about it?" Jasper asked.

"I like my new saddle a lot. What's it gonna cost me."

"Whooee! That's what I like to hear before the dickerin' starts," he said, and grinned.

"I hate to spoil you're fun, but there ain't gonna be much dickerin'. You're gonna tell me what you want for the saddle and I'm gonna count out gold. I like the saddle too much to try talkin' ya down."

"Well, I put a lot of work in it, but folks coming through here usually ain't got much money. I'll take forty dollars for the saddle."

"No you won't neither. I'm paying sixty or I'm leaving it here. I already like you too much to cheat ya. I need a scabbard for a Henry and I'm gonna need one for the other side too if you can make it afore we have to leave."

"I might have one already made. What'll you be carrying on the other side."

"One of them new break-open ten gauge Greeners. They ain't quite the same as a regular Greener up about the trigger."

"I better have it here when I make the scabbard then. I've heared of them, but I ain't never seed one. I'm sure I can have it did before the moaning though."

"Good. Do you make riatas too?"

"Used to when I was down in south Californy, but up here it's mostly just hard and fast throw ropes," he said.

"Damn. Since you got a dally horn on that saddle I's hoping I could get a good riata."

"I never said I didn't have any, I said I didn't make 'em much no more. I've got six nice ones ain't never even been throwed. How'd you learn to dally rope anyway?"

"Hell you can't tell I'm from Texas?"

"Sounded like it, but I didn't know, and some folks is touchy about things like that," he said.

"Well I's borned and raised there and daddy wouldn't let me ride a horse til I could rope my own. I'll take all the riatas you got and the next guy needs one can just wait til you can make it.

"Here's five double eagles to get started. I'm gonna ride Bob back to my wagons and then ride Red up here to get him a better saddle too, if you got one'll fit him. I'm glad you stopped me. I didn't have a damned thing to waste my time on till supper before you did," I said, and then took off.

Jasper had been a life saver for the rest of the day, not to mention the makings of a good friend. I wondered what the hell he was doing here. It wasn't exactly the best place for a good saddle maker. Most of the people coming by didn't know a good saddle from a kick in the ass.

I spent the rest of the afternoon talking to and buying from Jasper. He was entertaining along with having plenty of handy ideas and merchandise. He'd even come up with a sort of half-assed forestock for Henry repeaters. It was made mostly out of rawhide but with a soft leather lining that kept it from scratching up the metal. It also kept you from blistering your hand if you had to keep shooting for your life.