The Valley of the Wendigo Read Free Page A

Dekker asked.
    â€œHell, yeah, recently. He ain’t stopped huntin’.”
    â€œYou got any idea how old he is?”
    â€œDamned if I know. Sixty? Eighty? All I know is the man’s a damned good hunter.”
    â€œBetter than you?”
    â€œBetter than anybody.”
    â€œSo why should we hire you, then?”
    â€œWell, first off ya ain’t hirin’ me, I’m goin’ after the bounty,” she said. “Second, if ya do wanna hire me that’s another story. Third, ya must not be happy with Jack because you was tryin’ ta hire this jasper. So why not me?”
    â€œDo you know who this jasper is?” Dekker asked.
    She was drinking from her mug when he asked, so she wiped her mouth again and said, “I musta missed that part of yer conversation.”
    â€œThis is Clint Adams.”
    â€œAm I supposed ta know who that—wait a minute.”
    Dekker did wait a minute, while Clint just sat back and watched the two of them, amused by the byplay.
    â€œThe Gunsmith?”
    â€œThat’s right,” Dekker said, “the Gunsmith.”
    â€œHell,” she said, “his rep ain’t got nothin’ ta do with huntin’.” She turned to Clint. “No offense meant to ya.”
    â€œNone taken,” he said. “I was just telling the sheriff the same thing.”
    â€œHe can shoot,” Dekker said, “better than anybody livin’. That’s all I care about.”
    â€œHe can’t shoot better than me,” she said. “I bet he can’t shoot better than Fiddler. Faster maybe, but not better.”
    â€œShe might be right,” Clint said.
    Dekker gave him a look that said: “You’re not helping.”
    â€œAnybody want another beer?” Clint asked.
    Fiddler picked out the supplies he needed. As Styles made a list, he frowned at each item. He wondered how long it would take him to get his money from the town.
    â€œIs that all?”
    â€œI’ll need some ammunition—”
    â€œThere’s a gun shop in town,” Styles was quick to point out. “It might be able to help you better.”
    Fiddler stared at the man, then nodded and said, “You may be right. That’s all, then.”
    â€œWhen will you need it by?”
    â€œTomorrow morning?”
    â€œI’ll have it ready,” Styles said. “What time?”
    â€œI would like to get started at first light,” Fiddler said. “I could pick up the supplies tonight—”
    â€œNo need,” Styles assured him. “I’ll be here and I’ll have everything ready.”
    â€œI am in your debt,” Fiddler said.
    No , you’re not , Styles thought as the Cree left his store, but the town is.

FIVE
    â€œSo if you’re after the bounty, why talk to me?” Sheriff Dekker was asking when Clint returned with beers for all of them. This time he paid the bartender, which made the man smile.
    Dakota shrugged and said, “I thought maybe I could get more if I was hired private.”
    â€œWell, if what you’re tellin’ me about Fiddler is true,” Dekker said, “then maybe we have hired the right man.”
    â€œSo then you ain’t gonna keep tryin’ ta hire this Gunsmith fella?” she asked.
    â€œClint,” he said.
    â€œHuh?” She looked at him.
    â€œYou can call me Clint, Dakota.”
    She turned her head back to Dekker.
    â€œYou ain’t gonna keep tryin’ ta hire Clint, neither?” she asked.
    â€œI can’t hire anybody,” he said. “I’m just the sheriff.”
    â€œWho should I be talkin’ ta, then?” she asked.
    â€œThe mayor, I guess,” Dekker said. He stood up, grabbed his mug, and drank half of it. “I gotta make my rounds. Clint, think it over.”
    â€œI’ll think it over, too,” Dakota said.
    â€œThere’s nothin’ for you to think—oh, forget