Chapter 2: The Camp

“I have a real nice gun safe here, Clint. Would you like to use it this weekend?”

“That would be real nice of you,” Clint replied. “I’d be much obliged, Ma’am.”

He wanted to see it and she smiled. The safe was in her tent. The square canvas tent, of the style used by the 1850s to 1870s military officers, left the floor as a grass-covered carpet. She lifted the tent flap so that Clint could bring his weapons inside.

Janie was very familiar with this tent, having camped many times. She remembered from earlier experience that she needed to dig trenches around the edges of the tent. She’d lost a lot of black powder to a flood that swept through it at a disastrous camp out several years ago. There was a footlocker style safe inside and to one corner. A screw stake in the ground secured the safe by a chain and lock.

“I guess that you have a tempered steel tiedown with that safe.” Clint theorized. He continued when she nodded. “No bolt cutter would touch them. I see a real metal combination dial too. You won’t be breaking into that anytime soon.”

She spun the combination dial on the safe and the door clicked open. Janie placed her Winchester in the safe and removed the gun rig from her hip while making a show for him. Clint couldn’t help watching as she bent and untied the leather strap from her leg. That same tightness he’d experienced in his pants returned. He moved to rearrange himself while her attention was on putting her rig away.

He slipped his own rig off and placed the 44-40 Colt in the safe. She closed the door and spun the dial. Taking Janie’s proffered hand, he led her outside again.

“I had a thought; it isn’t proper for a lady to invite a male into her room without a chaperone. I must apologize for the indiscretion. Will you forgive me?” her eyelids fluttering trying to imitate a southern belle.

Her lyrical voice was having the desired effect on the man next to her. She inwardly smiled at the thought of having Clint as a friend, a companion, and hopefully even as a lover if it came to that. Janie wished that he would want her with all her heart. She didn’t know that he regarded her in the same way.

Clint never dreamed that he could find someone as sweet, kind, generous, and beautiful as Janie to call his own in a million years.

Clint and Janie were better known personalities at these gatherings. Acquaintances would greet one or the other, or both, as they walked through the ever-growing crowd. The crowd swelled as more spectators and tourists showed up. The noise of the milling crowd began to overtake them and speaking to each other became difficult. Unlike those participants awake at the crack of dawn, the public didn’t arrive until after eight in the morning. They came in droves when they did, and today was no exception!

The duo made it to the participant parking area with little trouble from the crowd. There was one exception. A lost child was the cause.

“Look Clint, I think there’s a lost child over there. See how she’s crying and turning in circles? Come with me.”

Janie took charge of the situation as she squatted down to the child’s level.

“Hey there, little one, did your mommy get lost?” Janie asked. Her voice soft and easy to match her non-threatening posture. The little girl rubbed her eyes and nodded.

“Mommy was right by me and she was gone when I turned around, and I can’t find her,” the tot explained.

“Would you like my man and me to help you find her? My mommy got lost at the fair once and this big man with a white hat helped me find her.”

Janie continued when the little girl in the cowgirl outfit nodded. “Would it be OK if Clint here lifts you up high so that you can see better? You should be able to see your mommy from up there. Isn’t he tall and handsome?”

“Oh, yes Miss. That would be good. I could see all over if I was up on his shoulders. Gee, you sure are lucky.”

The girl then whispered to Janie, “Is he your husband?”

Janie thought for a minute before whispering back, “Not yet.”

Clint took his cue to hoist the girl to his shoulders when Janie pointed to the girl first, and then his broad shoulders. The little one hugged his neck as she looked over the crowd. A woman exclaimed “Daisy!” at last, and came running up to the trio.

“This nice lady and this handsome man lifted me up ‘cause you got lost, Mommy. I knowd you would see me. He’s my hero. Isn’t he handsome, Mommy? Don’t you wish you had a man like him to be your bestest beau?”

“Hush now, Daisy. You need not bother these people.” Daisy’s mother scolded, her face turning scarlet. “Thank you for finding my daughter. She gets to be too much to handle sometimes.”

“Think nothing of it, Miss. We were glad to help.”

She breathed a sigh of relief when he handed the tyke down. The little girl thanked him for saving her from the minions of the bad men she’d seen. In reality, it was the mother’s ex-boyfriend who was skulking around shadowing her at the exhibit. He’d been drinking, and he was a mean drunk.

Clint whispered in Daisy’s ear “Can you point the bad man out.”

Daisy pointed to a redneck sitting in the beer tent which wasn’t open yet. Clint would recognize him when he saw the man again. He planned on having a ‘talk’ with him later. Janie overheard the byplay between Daisy and Clint. She got his attention and nodded her head as she flipped her chin at the ex.

They both said goodbye to Daisy, and Janie told her to let them know if she had ANY trouble. Clint led Janie away while she waved to Daisy. They headed for the car again. Once at the car, Clint unloaded his stuff from the huge trunk of the old Impala that he had made famous. It too was a known entity at these events. He had even brought a Radio Flyer to help carry the extra stuff. He could make it in one trip if he was careful when he packed the wagon. It took time to get it accomplished. He situated his tent (which was very similar to hers) in the clearing with Janie’s help near, but not next to hers, since the tree was between them. They got it set as a committeeman for the organizers approached. He was about to tell Janie that she needed to share the space. He moved along without saying anything since she was already sharing.

Clint laid his camp area out as it would have been like a hundred fifty years ago. He built a fire ring with the stones he’d brought with him. He had brought his own stones and firewood, knowing that onsite stones would be non-existent or very hard to find. Experience taught that there would be no wood except what was for sale by some intelligent entrepreneur. The man charged outrageous prices for each piece of wood. Clint was right, too. Janie would forgo the campfire, but he built one in the space between the two tents so that they could share it.

Clint had retrieved his long guns from the car. He had a 45-110 Quigley rifle (1874 Sharps Buffalo Rifle from the Shiloh Sharps Rifle Manufacturing Company of Big Timber, Montana. It had cost him over four thousand dollars) with a Creedmoor sight. He also had his Winchester 73 rifle with the period appropriate scope. The rifle’s scope matched the length of the rifle. It was chambered for the 44-40 shell, matching his revolver. Janie took them and placed them in the safe with the others. Clint had brought plenty of black powder cartridges; blanks for the fast draw, and wax loaded for the accuracy shooting. Clint used Army surplus canisters to store them and kept the canisters in his tent. They were waterproof, and it was always best to keep your powder dry. Who knew when the need would arise. Clint also carried live loads in his containers, just in case a mountain lion appeared in camp.

The first day was the preliminaries for traditional fast draw, new style fast draw, and targets. Clint was second in traditional fast draw and first overall with targets in his brackets. Finals and long gun shootouts would be tomorrow. He was a killer with the 45-110 and was certain that he would take the prize for distance. He was excellent with his Winchester and would respectably place in the offhand shoot. The match rules prohibited competing in both bench and offhand, so he chose offhand. He was sure that the number one shooter would take bench, so he had a chance with the offhand class.

Janie had checked once registration was closed. Nicole Franks was absent from the event. Janie thought that she had a real good chance to take the bacon on this one; she was in the lead after they tallied the first day scores. Only Nicole could beat her in blanks and it was a real tossup for the 15 ft. wax contest. Clint was proud to have others see him with Janie after the competition. They both received congratulatory slaps on the back. Janie only gave her fellow female contestants that privilege. Butterflies welled up in her stomach when Clint dared to place a kiss on her cheek in a moment of excitement. She covered it with her hand as if to rub it in, and she flushed crimson. The blush spread out over her head and neck again, although she noticed that it interestingly influenced Clint.

Her imagination took off again. She came back to reality as Clint quickly apologized for taking such liberties and she assured him that it was okay. Emboldened, she grabbed his collar, pulled him in and planted a return kiss square on his lips. She caressed his cheek as they continued their kiss. She was breathless when she released him. Clint gasped for air and the blood from his brain rushed to other parts of his body. Janie scanned down and back before he noticed and grinned at the thought of his enjoyment of their moment together.

“Now will you get it through that thick skull of yours that I don’t mind one bit if you kiss me,” she scolded. “I’m sure that you enjoyed that as much as I did, so quit acting the fool. You’re allowed, do you understand?”

He responded with a simple nod. “As you wish.”

Trying to get his mind off what he’d like to do, Clint suggested that they go get themselves helpings of buffalo steaks at the big food tent.

“You know that they have buffalo steaks at the food tent at this shindig. I’ve had it before and it’s excellent. The way they cook it makes the meat juicy and tender. It’s just like you’d expect on a trail drive or a buffalo hunt. Why don’t we head over and give it a try? I sure am hungry.”