The Last Sunset Page #3

reason to follow a man this far.

What was Jimmy Graham to you?

Hmm?

He was married to my sister.

Your sister?

Mmm.

So that's where the bear

sits, in the buckwheat.

Pretty little girl

Mr. Stribling!

You left a calf behind.

Where?

He lost his mother.

Well, we'll have to give

him a new one. Come on.

Come over here, miss.

Now, blow your breath three or

four times in each side of his nose.

Go ahead.

Keep on petting him.

That's right.

Now, stay right where you are so

you're the first thing he sees.

Get back on your horse.

See, miss, cattle

don't see very well.

The only way this little fellow can

tell his mother from any other cow

is by her smell. When he

loses that, he's an orphan.

So we give him a new smell to

follow. You're his new mama.

Now, walk away slowly,

see what he does.

Thanks for saving

that calf back there.

Why should you thank me?

Well, that calf

could have been mine.

Yours?

Sure.

You see, part of my deal with Breckenridge

was that I get a fifth of the herd.

A fifth?

Well, I delivered him the best

trail boss in the business, didn't I?

That's worth something,

isn't it?

Come on now, my fifth. Hey,

there! Come on there, boy!

Mr. Stribling, you may

make camp wherever you wish.

I'm riding on ahead

to Tres Santos.

That's a pretty rough

town, Mr. Breckenridge.

I think I can find

extra hands there.

This time you can

really count on me, Mrs. B.

I swear I'd sooner

milk a wildcat.

Come on, Jack-boy.

Come on, Jack-boy.

Jack-boy, come on. Come on.

Come on, Jack-boy.

Come on. Come on.

Come on. Come on, Jack-boy.

That's a boy.

Your husband get back

from town yet?

No. I hope he hasn't

run into any trouble.

Maybe I ought to ride in,

see how he's making out.

I wish you would.

All right.

Get me some tobacco,

will you?

I don't know your brand.

Oh, any kind will do.

Maybe you ought to come

along. Pick it out yourself.

Oh, it's not that important.

Take your time. I'll just stick

around here and keep an eye on things.

Right, Jackie-boy?

I only suggested

you come along.

Now I'm telling you to.

On your way, cowpoke.

That's an order,

O'Malley.

What did you say?

Bren, please go with him.

Don't make trouble for us.

Whatever you want, Belle,

that's the way it's going to be.

Gentlemen, our cups

are running dry of nectar.

Patron, a drink for my friends,

and everyone is my friend.

Bartender, drinks all around.

Gentlemen!

Gentlemen, gentlemen.

A toast to a great soldier,

a devout Christian.

To the bravest of the brave,

General Stonewall Jackson.

You're not fit to

speak that name, sir.

At whose side it was

my privilege to fight

during the long and tragic years

of the war between the states.

Gentlemen,

I give you General...

Reach for your gun, sir.

I decline to shed the

blood of a fellow Virginian.

You decline every kind

of a fight, don't you?

It's right nice seeing

you again, Breckenridge.

We had the privilege

of fighting alongside him

under Stonewall Jackson

at Fredericksburg.

And he ran.

That's not true.

He didn't just run,

he deserted us!

That's just not true.

I was wounded at

Fredericksburg.

Where were

you wounded?

Go ahead and show us where

you were wounded, Breckenridge.

Yes, sir. Show us.

We would all like to see.

Well, the wound is obvious.

I limp...

Drop your pants and

show us your backside.

You've no right to

ask me to do that.

Your pants.

Or your gun.

Show us your wound.

Oh, God,

is there no mercy?

Show us the wound!

Talking's all right,

you can say anything you want,

but no man has the right

to make another man do this.

Keep out of this.

What's he to you, sir?

Don't ask questions, mister.

Just do what the man says.

Let's get out...

Now wait a minute...

You shut up!

Let's go, Mr. Breckenridge. I

don't think we're welcome here.

How'd my papa really die?

Like we said,

some buffalo skinners

started to make trouble and...

Well, your father

waded in to stop it...

You make that up

because of Mama?

'Cause she knows.

And so do I.

Know what?

That Mr. Breckenridge was too

gentle to ever get into a fight.

Maybe that was

the good in him.

Bedtime, Melissa.

So early?

It's not early,

it's late.

Goodnight, Mr. O'Malley.

Goodnight, Missy.

Well, I'm ashamed of you,

Stribling.

Poor Breckenridge isn't even cold yet

and already you're thinking of his widow.

You might be right.

Forget it, cowpoke.

She's mine.

I'd worry about that if I thought

you were gonna live long enough.

Well, when the time

comes, you'll see.

Don't count on it.

You'll never get the chance

again to ruin a woman's life.

You're still talking

about that sister of yours?

You like the truth?

Here it is.

Your sister put more horns

on Jimmy Graham

than a porcupine's got quills.

By the time he

got himself killed,

he wasn't good for anything except maybe

to stuff and hang over the fireplace.

That sister of yours, Stribling,

was just a free drink on the house.

And nobody ever

went home thirsty.

I mean nobody.

If you two want to kill

each other, go ahead.

But at least wait until you cross

the border and fulfill your contract.

If you're not going to

stick with it, get out now.

By the way, O'Malley,

three days after you

killed Jimmy Graham,

my kid sister took a length

of rawhide and hung herself.

Now what's wrong?

Just pointing the wagon tongue

toward the North star.

Help us get our bearings

in the morning.

If that's such a good idea, why haven't

we done it before, Mr. Stribling?

Probably because I didn't need

an excuse to talk to you before.

Oh.

I just want to

tell you not to worry.

I mean to bring that herd through

in good shape, you can count on me.

Good.

There's one thing more.

If you'll pardon my saying so,

you know, sometimes

it only makes grief worse

when you bottle it up.

Thank you.

If you...

When you're feeling better,

if you need a friend to talk to

about your plans for the future,

I mean, your plans

and Melissa's,

I'd like to be that friend.

I'll remember that,

Mr. Stribling.

Good night.

Good night.

I didn't know there were any

women connected with this outfit.

Make any difference?

Not to me,

it don't.

Women like that are worth $1,500 a piece

delivered to a Dutchman in Veracruz.

That's more than

a whole herd's worth.

You're looking for somebody?

Fellow named

Breckenridge.

Hired us to go through with this

outfit to Crazy Horse, Texas.

We heard he got killed.

So we trailed you

from Tres Santos.

Figured you could really

use some more hands.

We got a paper he signed.

Show him.

Paper doesn't matter. We

need men. Have you got names?

Sure. Frank Hobbs.

This is my brother Ed,

that fellow over there calls

himself the Julesburg Kid.

All right.

Let's get to work.

Hey, kid.

You hard of hearing?

All right, we got a big herd

of cows here. All round here.

Now, bunch them up so we can

move out of here right away.

Well, now, you ought to

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