“Would you like to go for a walk?” he said to Megan.
“I could use the air and the exercise.”
“Sure,” she replied. “What about that sorry excuse for a horse you’ve got tied outside?”
“We can lead him back into town.”
“But after that, where are you staying tonight?”
“I don’t know,” Longarm said.
Megan blinked. “Well, what about your bags? You must have some extra clothes and things.”
“I do,” Longarm said. “But they were supposed to be put on the eastbound train. I sure hope that the stationmaster had the good sense to keep my things and not send them east.”
“There’s always a telegraph operator on duty,” Megan said. “We could walk back into town and ask him. He’ll have a key to the baggage room and you could get your things.”
“That’s a good idea.” Longarm glanced at Bill. “He’ll be all right?”
“Yes. He’s had too much to drink, like he does most every night, but he’ll sleep well. He’s in considerable pain, you know.”
“No,” Longarm said. “He never said anything about it.”
“He’s got a cancer,” Megan said, her eyes misting. “His drinking doesn’t help.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Come on,” Megan said, heading outside, “let’s get that fresh air we both need.”
Longarm untied his livery horse, and then they all walked along in silence toward the town until they came to the livery. Longarm unsaddled the poor horse and then turned it loose in an empty corral.
They couldn’t leave until Megan was satisfied that the poor beast had plenty of hay and water. “Even an ugly horse deserves good treatment,” she explained. “After all, it can’t help the way it looks any more than we can.”
“I suspect that’s so,” Longarm said.
They continued on into town, and when they reached the Truckee River bridge, Megan stopped and picked up a pebble and threw it into the river. The surface of the water was burnished like copper in the moonlight, and they watched the ripple spread out across the surface, slow and lazy.
“A penny for your thoughts, Megan.”
Stirred from her reverie, she turned and looked at him.
“I was thinking of you, actually.”
Longarm grinned. “Good.”
“No,” she said, “not good. I was wondering if you will wind up like my father. Old and discarded. A man whose memories haunt him and who wonders if God in heaven will judge him harshly for all those that he has killed.”
Longarm took a deep breath. “If you’re talking about men like Fergus MacDonald, I’ll take my chances,” Longarm said. “I’m not a bit worried about the killing I’ve done because I’ve never killed except in the line of duty when every other alternative failed.”
Megan turned to Longarm. “I know that,” she said softly.
“It’s always amazed me that some men like you and my father could deal with so much violence and still retain your decency. Your job requires that you see the very worst in people.”
“Sometimes the best,” Longarm said. “I’ve seen a lot of courage and sacrifice. I’m sure that your father has also told you of the many acts of bravery he’s witnessed.”
“He has.”
“Megan, what will you do when he’s gone?”
She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll do what I’ve been doing. Nothing much will change, except that I won’t have a man to burn meat for and to tease a little the way I do with father. I’ll keep on working with horses and leather.”
“I don’t hear any talk of a husband and children.”
“I’ve never thought much about them one way or the other,” she admitted. Then she smiled and added, “When I was a girl, I had a few beaus come by to pay their respects.”
“As pretty as you are, more than a few, I’ll wager.”
Megan didn’t deny it. “But Old Wild Bill ran them all off. He’d let them in the house, but then he’d get drunk and rowdy and scare ‘em half to death. They never came back again. After a while, the word got around to all the young men and they just stopped paying their visits.”
“You’re still a young woman.”
“I am,” she agreed, “but I’m pretty stubborn and set in my ways. I’m not sure that any man could put up with me. He’d have to be a horseman, of course.”
“Of course.” “I’d never marry a merchant or someone like that. “No,” Longarm said, “that would never work.” “I’d want a man like my father, but one not quite so demanding. He was tough on my mother. I can remember that he bossed her around something fierce.”
“I can well imagine that he would.”
Megan’s eyes narrowed and she grew very serious. “I won’t be bossed around, Custis. If someone pushes me into a corner, I get mad and want to fight. You can’t order me around and treat me like I’m some second-class Citizen.”
“Of course not.”
Megan picked up another pebble and tossed it over the bridge toward the Truckee where a bullfrog was raising a ruckus. The bullfrog splashed away and the night grew still again, except for the sounds of laughter and music that floated out of the Virginia Street saloons.
“But I’d want a strong man,” Megan said, talking to the water below. “For all his faults, my father was always strong and I can’t abide weaklings.”
“Have you ever even had a man?” Longarm asked quietly.
Megan sighed, and it was a long time before she said, “I don’t know whether to haul off and slap you or to truthfully answer your question.”
“You just answered it,” he said, pulling her tight against his chest. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
She gulped. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with that, even at my age.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin at any age,” he told her in his gentlest voice. “All it means is that you haven’t met the right man.”
“Are you thinking you are the right man?”
“No,” he said.
Megan blinked, and Longarm knew his answer had caught her by surprise. “You aren’t? Then …”
Longarm kissed her mouth. Megan’s didn’t resist, but she clearly was unsure of herself and hadn’t had any practice in kissing. Her mouth was closed tight and her lips were unresponsive. “Relax,” he whispered. “Just enjoy the feel of it.”
“I’m not sure that’s the wise thing to do,” she told him. “And anyway, what if someone sees us?”
“That wouldn’t be the end of the world either,” he said. “Now would it?”
In answer, Megan pressed her mouth tighter to his own and clung to him. She was strong, smelled of horse and sweat, but was still someone extremely desirable. Longarm could feel his loins stir, and his pulse began to race.
“Maybe,” he said a moment later, “we should both find a place for the night.”
“No,” she panted, recoiling. “I … I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because I might like it too much, and then you’d be leaving for Denver and where would I be?”
“You’d be fine,” he assured her. “You’d start thinking about a husband … just the kind that you described. And then maybe even children some day.”
“I don’t think I want children, and I’m not even sure I want a husband. I like horses best.”
Longarm couldn’t help himself. He laughed despite the seriousness in Megan, and then he said, “That could change over time, Megan.”
“I hope not.”
“Come on,” he said, taking her arm and heading across the bridge. “Let’s find out if my baggage is on its way to Cheyenne or if the stationmaster was sharp enough to keep it here for me.”
Megan smiled up at Longarm and said, “I’ll bet I’m the worst kisser you ever kissed, huh?”
“Not the worst,” he said teasingly, “but you do have a ways to go.”
“Like what should I do different?”
“Relax and enjoy how it makes you feel.”