Kim Stover peered out at him, the lamplight making a red halo of her hair, as Longarm said, “Evening, ma’am. You folks rode off before I could get around to asking one or two more questions.”
“Mister Long, if you’ve come to make your bid for Cotton Younger…”
“Uncle Sam don’t work that way, ma’am, but let’s leave your odd notions aside for now. You see, there seems to be more’n one outlaw working this neck of the woods. He took a shot at me in Bitter Creek the other night, and tonight I learned he wasn’t funning. I thought we might talk about it.”
“Are you suggesting one of my friends took a shot at you?”
“No, ma’am. I think you and yours are just being surly. You see, somebody came up here to bust Cotton Younger out of your so-called jail. Somebody else gunned him. But that’s all been looked after. What I wanted to ask you about was new faces in the valley.”
“You mean since we captured Cotton Younger? You’ve met them all by now.”
“How about before your friends caught the boy skulking round? You have any new hands on the spreads, hereabouts?”
She shook her head and said, “No. Everyone I know in Crooked Lance has been here for some time.”
“How much time is some, ma’am?”
“Oh, at least five years. Wait a minute. Timberline did hire some new hands when they made him ramrod of the Rocking H. The cattle company that owns it has expanded in the last few years. There’s Windy Dawson, came to work two, maybe three years ago.”
“He’s that short, fat feller who throws good?”
“Yes, Windy’s one of the best ropers in the valley.”
“I took him for a top hand. I’d say he was a cowboy, not a train robber. Anyone else you can think of?”
“Not really. Windy’s the newest man in the valley. there’s Slim Wilson, but he was hired earlier and, like Windy, is considered a hand who knows his way around a cow. I’d be very surprised to learn that Slim wasn’t a man who started learning his skills early, and he’s no more than twenty, right now.”
“What about Timberline?”
“Are you trying to be funny? He’s cowboy to the core, and was one of the first men hired by the Rocking H.”
“Just asking. A man his size stands out in a crowd, too, and I don’t have anything like him on any recent flyers. You mustn’t think I’m just prying for fun, ma’am. It’s my job to put all the cards out on the table for a looksee. I’d say what we have here is a lone gunman who hides good on the ridge lines, or somebody playing two-faced.”
“Your killer has to be one of the men on your side, then. What was that you said about an attempted jailbreak?”
Longarm hesitated. Then he said, “I reckon it’s all right to level with you, ma’am. That old French Canuck I rode in with wasn’t. He made that fool play at the jailhouse door to get a look at the prisoner and maybe slip him a word or two. But he wasn’t out to kill Cotton Younger. He was sent, or came here on his own, to set a kinsman free.”
“And you saw through his scheme? You do know your job, don’t you?”
“Well, it was the Mountie that made him for a fake Canuck. Who gunned him, or why, is still pure mystery. From the few words I got out of him before he died, he seems to have had a misunderstanding with someone, and I know it wasn’t the man you have locked up; they never got to see each other.”
“Oh, that must mean there’s another member of his gang here in Crooked Lance. But why are you telling me all this? I thought you were cross with me and mine.”
“I am, a mite. You see, ma’am, this notion you have on holding our prisoner for some sort of fool auction is getting serious. You folks in Crooked Lance are playing cards for high stakes with professionals, and—no offense intended—some of your cowhands could get hurt.”
“You know our stand about the money, damn it.”
“Yep, and it’s getting tedious. You ain’t a stupid woman, Miss Kim. You must know time is running out on you. Any day now, the army will send in a troop of cavalry to back Captain Walthers, or a team of federal officers will be coming to see what’s keeping me. If I was you, I’d go with the Justice Department. One feller just made himself a modest bounty tonight, by cooperating with me.”
“Could you give me something in writing, saying we were due the reward on Younger and his gang, whenever they’re caught?”
“I could, ma’am, but it wouldn’t be worth the paper it was written on. You see, Cotton Younger has to stand trial before it’s legal to hang him, and there’s always that outside chance some fool jury might set him free. The reward’s for capture and conviction. As to Frank and Jesse James, us federals might make a deal with Younger and we might not. I could put in a good word for you if it was a federal man that caught them rascals, but there’s others looking. So the James boys might get caught by other folks. They might get turned in for the reward by anybody. They might never be caught at all, since nobody’s seen hide nor hair of either one for a good two years or more. You see how it is?”
She sighed and said, “At least you’re likely more honest than some of the others. Sheriff Weed’s promised us the moon, but he gets cagey every time I ask him to put it in writing.”
“You’re not likely to get anything on paper, and if you do, it won’t be worth all that much. The position you’ve taken just won’t wash, ma’am. The longer you hold that prisoner, the more riled at you his rightful owners are going to get.”
She hesitated. Then, with a firmer tilt to her head, she said, “I have to think about it. You’ve got me mixed up, as you doubtless intended.”
Longarm believed in riding with a gentle hand on the reins, so he tipped his hat and said, “I’ll just let you sleep on it, then. Good night, ma’am. It’s been nice talking to you.”
They were waiting in the shadows as Longarm rode out to the main trail. He saw they weren’t skulking, so he didn’t draw as Timberline and another tall man fell in on either side of him as he left the redhead’s property. Longarm nodded and said, “‘Evening, Timberline.”
“What was you pestering Miss Kim about, Longarm?”
“Wasn’t pestering. Wasn’t cutting in on you, either. As she’ll likely tell you, it’s no secret I was asking questions.”
He turned to the other rider and asked, “Would you be Slim Wilson?”
The youth didn’t answer. Timberline said, “A stranger could get hurt, messing about my intended, Mister.”
“I gathered as much, but like I said, that ain’t My play with the widow. I only want what’s mine. That owlhoot you and she are holding in defiance of the law.”
“Oh, hell, that pissant’s caused more trouble than he’s worth! If she’d just let us string the rascal up and have done with him, the valley could get back to its business, raising cows!”
“Why don’t you just let me take him off your hands, then? We’d all ride out and you could be free to pick posies for your gal, Timberline.”
“It’s tempting, but she’d never talk to me again. You may have noticed Kim Stover is a stubborn woman, Longarm.”
“I did. You really want to marry up with her?”
“Hell yes, but she’s stubborn about that, too. Says she has to know me better. Hell, I’ve known her half a dozen years already, but she’s skittish as a colt about a second try.” Timberline’s voice dropped lower as he confided, “That Ben Stover she was married to was a mean-hearted little runt, just like his father over to the general store.”
“I noticed his old woman and the gal look tuckered some. Haven’t had more’n two words with the storekeeper. Seems a moody cuss.”