Chapter 10

Doc stepped forward, putting himself between Millie and the trapper who had so unexpectedly claimed Millie as his mail order bride. He held up his hands for silence, and people began to stop their nervous chatter. When it was quiet, he spoke.

"How do we know any of this is true?" he asked. "Millie can't remember anything of her past."

Black postured. "Her name is Jenette Duchette, and I paid a hundred and fifty dollars fer the right to marry up with her. It don't matter if she cain't 'member it. She's mine, and I come to git her. Now you stand aside. Yer keepin' a man from his married rights!"

"Where did you send this money?" asked Doc. "What documents do you have to show any of this happened?"

"I sent it back east, and that's all I'm sayin'," yelled Black. "Now gimme her, cause she's mine!"

"Now hold on there just a second," came another voice. The crowd turned to see Dusty swaggering into the open. "I bought me a mail order bride too, and I been waitin' for her. I never thought about how as Miss Millie might be her, but now that I do think about it, I reckon she could be my wife!"

"What?" Boots' cry caused people to jump.

Dusty showed surprisingly white teeth in his tanned face. "I guess we'll just have to send a telegraph back east and have them shed some light on this issue, before either of us can make a claim," he said.

Black's grimace made it plain that things weren't going the way he had planned. He lifted the hand holding the rifle.

"I ain't here to dicker with no wet-behind-the-ears cowpoke," he growled. "Ain't no other woman got offen that train, so she's mine, and I aim to take her."

"I don't think you paid nothin' fer no mail order bride," said Dusty, his voice suddenly low and hard.

"You callin' me a liar?" Black's voice grated and the rifle came up to point at Dusty.

"Where's the sheriff?" somebody's voice rose in the back. More voices began to rise as people moved away from the line of fire behind Dusty.

Randy Divine inched out of the crowd, his hands held up.

"There doesn't have to be any unpleasantness here," he said carefully. "As Jesus said, we must learn to turn the other cheek, and seek peace."

"You the Padre around here?" asked Black, exposing blackened, rotting teeth in a vicious grin. The rifle swung to point at the preacher.

"I am a minister of God!" said Randy, squaring his shoulders.

"Good. You kin just do the onners then. Doc, you git out of the way. I don't want to have to shoot you. I might need yer services some day. Now, Jennifer, you git on over here and let's git hitched. Then we're gonna go back to my camp and have us a honeymoon. I'm gonna make you squeal like a little piggy."

"I thought you said her name was Jenette," said Dusty.

The rifle swung back to center on Dusty's chest.

"It don't really matter, now does it. I paid the money. She's gonna marry up with me, and I'm the one who's gonna make her squeal like a pig. And if you say another fucking word, and I'm gonna kill you dead, cow fucker!"

It was just then that a flying body, wearing a pale blue dress, came in from Black's blind side. Arms wrapped around his shoulders as that body twisted, executing a maneuver that would someday be described as the perfect open field tackle in a game that hadn't been invented yet.

Boots didn't say a word as she took Black down. When he hit the floor, she hopped up and stomped on the wrist of the hand holding the rifle. Even though she was wearing moccasins, he howled and released the firearm. She fell, landing with her right knee in the trapper's gut, and his foul breath whooshed out in an agonized cry.

Then she commenced beating his face with both fists. He got a foot in her middle and pushed her away, rolling to come up with a snarl in his throat and a knife in his hand. Screams erupted from the stunned crowd as Boots danced around the man, unafraid of the weapon he waved at her. As he swung and missed, his body turned and she darted in to snap a kick between his legs. He collapsed with a groan. She got possession of the knife by the simple expedient of biting his wrist, drawing blood. Then, so quickly the astonished crowd could only gape, she used the man's razor sharp skinning knife to stab at the hands covering his screaming balls. He jerked them away with a howl of anguish. Boots pressed the knife tip into the bulge she had just kicked, and Black went very still. Only his chest moved as he panted.

"You seem mighty anxious to use what you got in them pants," she said, almost conversationally. She wasn't even out of breath. "But you see, here's the deal. Millie is my friend. And she ain't no mail order bride from back east. She's a high bred lady. Now to be honest, I'm sort of agreein' with Dusty. I think yer lyin' through yer rotten teeth, tryin' to take advantage of a pore woman who fell on some rough times, just so's you can get yer filthy dick serviced."

She pressed harder and the tip of the knife disappeared through the cloth. Black gasped and half sat up, but Boots reached and shoved him back down.

"It's possible I'm wrong," she said, casually. "So I'm not gonna cut yer dick off right this instant. But I also think Dusty was right about that telegraph back east idea, and if we have to go to all that work and expense, and then I actually come to find out you were lyin' about all this, then I am gonna come find you, wherever you are, Jim Black, and I'm gonna cut yer dick off and feed it to the coyotes. Ya got that clear in yer mind?"

"Let me go," rasped Black. "I didn't mean nothin' by it. She ain't got no memories. I heard about that. I just figured that it wouldn't much matter to her one way or the other."

Boots leaned on the knife again and it sank in further as Black screamed. So did at least ten of the women watching. Another dozen men groaned.

It was at that point that Sheriff Miller, who had been delayed in the outhouse by a little constipation, arrived on the scene.

"What the hell is going on here?" he shouted.

"I'm a-fixin' to make this here bull into a steer," said Boots. Other people tried to speak too, and the room as a jumble of voices.

"Get off of him, Boots," yelled the sheriff.

"As soon as I cut his nuts off, I'll be happy to," she yelled back, reaching for the trapper's rope belt.

Miller reached for his pistol. Dusty stepped in and reached down toward Boots. He didn't have time to plan things, really, or he might have altered his grip. And, to be honest, Boots didn't cooperate, and wiggled a lot. The fact is that by the time he pulled her up off of the trapper, his hands were squarely gripping her big, soft breasts. It was probably that, that caused her to drop the knife. Miller, seeing it was a skinning knife, and knowing that Boots carried a Bowie knife, correctly assumed she had taken the weapon from the man lying on the floor. He saw the rifle lying several feet away and smelled Black, all of which led him to point his gun at the trapper instead of Boots.

The sheriff yelled for quiet, and got it.

"Now ... one at a time ... somebody tell me what's going on here," he said.