Jason and Curly just looked at each other until Curly shrugged and took Jason’s reins from him. “Man wants a hot walker, he gets a hot walker. Steve!” he shouted toward the barn. “Come up here and get these horses!”
To Jason, he said, “Have one for me while you’re in there. Y’know, I don’t believe I’m ever gonna understand him so long as I live.”
Careful to avoid the dead snake, Jason stepped up on the porch. “You’re in good company, Curly,” he said, then turned and followed Rafe and Matthew into the house.
Two hours later, a drunken Rafe and an only slightly more sober Jason threw wide the door to Matt’s house, and stepped out on the porch (or, as Matthew liked to call it, his veranda) and took a couple of good, deep breaths of the night-chilled desert air. Jason came away from the experience still thinking that Matt was an asshole of the first order. He didn’t know what Rafe thought. He was one tough fellow to read.
Their horses had been properly walked out, then watered, and stood tied to the porch railing, dozing. Rafe said, “Let’s walk or jog ’em back, all right?”
“Good idea.”
They both checked their girth straps and their bridles, and mounted up, while Jason puzzled over what had just happened. And then, out of nowhere, Rafe said, “He’s sure one peckerwood box’a tricks, ain’t he?”
Jason laughed out loud. “That he is,” he said when he could. “That he is. Just never heard it put quite that way before. The only reason we didn’t get a bigger crowd at the house was that everybody else owes him money.”
“Oh, yeah. He owns the bank, don’t he?”
“Yup.”
“And his sister, Miss Megan?”
“She runs it for him. Does a damn good job of it, too!” Jason was proud of Megan, and sniffed at people who thought women should stay out of business. He knew that Matt sure couldn’t do the job!
Rafe nodded. “I think she told me that. Strange job for a female, but if you’re good at somethin’, you ought’a do it, I figure.” He rolled himself a cigarette as they rode along, which put Jason in the mood. He pulled out his fixings bag, too.
When they were both smoking, Jason asked, “Rafe, how’d you get started on your so-called life’a crime, anyhow?”
Rafe shrugged. “That thing with my daddy, I reckon. That was the first. And once there was paper out on me, it seemed like there was some dumb cluck hidin’ behind every tree tryin’ to kill me for the bounty. Didn’t seem fair, somehow.” And then he paused for a half second. “Shit. My smoke went out.”
As he dug into his pocket for a new match, he said, “After I killed a couple of bounty-happy kids in self-defense, I got to thinkin’ what I just told you. Y’know, if you’re good at somethin’, do it. So I hired myself out to a rancher who was havin’ troubles with cattle thieves.” He stopped again, to light his cigarette.
“What happened?” Jason asked him.
“The trouble with the rustlers stopped. They don’t get put on wanted posters, y’know, unless they’re on ’em already. I mean, unless they get tagged for doin’ some other crime. My boys were fairly new to the trade, I reckon. That, or fairly good at not gettin’ caught.”
“How many?”
“Three. Killed the bossman and his ramrod, sat down with the kid helpin’ ’em and threatened to castrate him if I ever caught him thievin’ cattle again.” Rafe smiled. “He agreed, and I let him go. You ain’t never seen such a quick exit in your life as that kid made!” He broke out into laughter again, just picturing it.
Jason smiled, his head shaking. If he’d been that kid, he would have beat it, too!
The rest of the ride into town proved uneventful, except that by the time they came in sight of Fury, they had both sobered up to a large extent. Several of the people who’d been at the house came up while Rafe was putting his gelding away, asking if there’d been any Apache, and all received the same answer.
When Rafe had seen to his horse, he walked along back to Jason’s house, where Jason put his palomino up alongside Jenny’s.
“Two palominos?” Rafe asked, surprised.
Jason shrugged. “Well, Jenny needed a horse, and she’d always admired Cleo, so . . . I thought I’d keep it in the family, y’know?”
“So, what Jenny wants, Jenny gets, right?”
Jason nodded and laughed. “That’s about right. Now, if we don’t get up there and demand dessert pretty damn fast, there’s gonna be hell to pay. At least for me. You get to run off and hole up down at the saloon, but I have to live here!”
They found the girls in the living room, playing checkers.
“Well, it’s about time!” Jenny said before Jason had time to open his mouth.
Megan looked up. “No Indians?”
Jason said, “Nope,” and she looked satisfied when he did. He continued, “Jenny, we’re here for some of your world-famous dessert!”
“You’re lucky I didn’t toss it out,” she said as she stood up.
“Miss Jenny,” Rafe interjected, “seems to me that you got a lot of attitude for somebody who made her brother ride out there on some fool’s errand. Jason, if I was you, I think a visit to the woodshed would be in order.”
Well, that shut Jenny up! Not only did she not utter a word while serving them dessert, but she gave them extra-large portions of what turned out to be apple crumb cake. Jason reminded himself to buy even more dried apples come fall. She worked magic with them!
However, Megan made up for Jenny’s silence by asking questions. She particularly enjoyed the part about Rafe shooting the snake and her brother vaulting the three steps up to the porch. In fact, she laughed until tears were rolling down her cheeks, and Jason, caught up in her infectious laughter, was roaring, too.
“Hell!” marveled Rafe. “Didn’t think it was that funny.”
“Oh, you would if you knew Matt,” Megan managed to blurt out.
She wiped at her eyes, then fell back into laughter.
Jenny spoke for the first time since Rafe had embarrassed her. “I think you’re all too hard on him,” she scolded. “He’s just trying to protect what’s his, that’s all. And you, Megan! You’re his sister! I’d be ashamed if I were you.”
Rafe’s mouth quirked up as he listened. He said, “I think it’s healthy for at least one person in a family to have a sense’a humor. That was sure a fine dessert, Miss Jenny. Hope you’ll invite me again sometime.” He wiped the last traces of apple crumb cake from his mouth, then smoothed his napkin out on the table.
He pushed back his chair, but before he could get all the way up, Jason said, “Coffee, Rafe?”
Jenny glared daggers at him.
But Rafe said, “I thank you for the offer, Jason, but I’d best be gettin’ back to my no-good ways, which means playin’ cards and drinkin’ up to the saloon.” Both men had taken off their hats when they entered the house, and now Rafe took his from the hat rack, swept the hand holding his hat wide and to the side, and said, “Ladies, Marshal, it’s been a pleasure.”
Jason called after him, “Best take the back way, Rafe. And tell Salmon that everything’s all right out at the Double M.”
Rafe’s reply was another bow, then a swing of his hat to the top of his head, with a tip of the brim to the ladies.
Jason closed the door behind him and went back to the kitchen. Slouching in his chair, he said, “What’s wrong with you tonight, Jen?”
“Me?! What’s wrong with me?” she fairly snarled at him.
He could only stare at her, blinking.
“You’re the one who wanted to kill him just a few days ago. You’re the one who was all het up just because Megan and I just talked to him at Abigail’s! You’re the one who—”
Jason held up his hands, palms toward her. “If you’re gonna get up a lynch mob, just do it and quit jabberin’ at me. I’m the marshal, you know, and I had a right to be concerned about that little meeting, not only as a lawman, but as your brother. And I didn’t want to kill him so much as I just wanted him out of my town. We still don’t know what element he’ll attract, though we’ve got one gunslinger after him already.”