you,” he said mildly. “The last preacher who passed through was ages ago and he didn’t stay long.”

Phil Tanner broke his silence. Unlike the mousy squeak of his sire, his voice was the boom of a bull elk. “I doubt the collections plates were to his liking, Father.”

“Now, now, son,” Lloyd said. “We shouldn’t speak ill of a minister.”

“Why not? He uses the outhouse like everyone else.”

Gertrude laughed merrily. “You must excuse my son, Reverend Storm. He always speaks his mind, but he does not mean anything by it.”

“Oh?” was all I could think of to say.

Phil frowned in annoyance. “I most certainly did, Mother, or I would not say it.” He smiled at me, as cold a smile as I ever received. “You must excuse her, Parson. Like most mothers, she thinks she knows everything.”

“Phillip!” Lloyd exclaimed. “I will ask you to show more respect. Apologize for that unseemly remark.”

The true state of the Tanner household was betrayed by Gertrude’s next remark. “Don’t make more out of it than there was. Phil adores me. He would never intentionally insult me.”

“Of course not,” Phil agreed.

“I still think it was rude,” Lloyd said meekly.

Both mother and son regarded him as if he were a bug they would dearly love to squash, and Gertrude responded, “If I say he wasn’t, then he wasn’t. Honestly. I’m sure the parson did not come all this way to listen to us squabble.”

She was bear fat and axle grease rolled into one, that woman. I smiled and said, “Never fear, Mr. Tanner. I expect to stay in these parts a week or two. There seems to be a great need for spiritual guidance.”

“Oh?” Phil said with a hint of mockery.

Calista defended me. “There was an incident in my restaurant today. Two of your cowboys confronted two of the Butchers.”

“Which of my hands?” Lloyd asked. “I have given specific instructions that they are not to cause trouble. I will see to it they are punished.”

Gertrude motioned with displeasure. “No, you will not. I commend them for having the gumption to stand up to those miserable cow thieves. And now the Butchers are killing our cows out of spite.”

“We can’t prove they are to blame,” Lloyd said.

“Who needs proof?” This from Phil. Evidently the mother and the son liked to combine their assaults on the father, the better to keep him in his place. “Were it up to me, I would wipe out every last member of that thieving family.”

“Who knows, son? You might just get your wish.” Gertrude had icy twinkles in her eyes as she added, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.” She bestowed those twinkles on me.

Chapter 4

The meal was fit for kings and queens.

We started out with a brandy toddy. I didn’t finish mine. Whoever made it added too much sugar and it was much too sweet. As I was to discover, that was deliberate. Gertrude Tanner had a hankering for sweets and favored foods that suited her craving. As we sat sipping and chatting at the long table in the dining room, she mentioned that after the meal she would like to show me around the ranch. I answered that would be fine.

Next came fish chowder. The fish were from a stream that watered the LT. I can’t say as I cared for it either. I seldom ate fish growing up and never have had a taste for it. It didn’t help that they mixed in pieces of corn. The chowder smelled awful and looked like vomit.

My appetite was about spoiled when they came to the main course. Or should I say courses? You wouldn’t guess it to look at them, but the Tanners ate like hogs. There were slabs of beef. There was chicken with all the fixings. There was pigeon. I was partial to the calf’s head. Whoever boiled it had remembered to leave the wind- pipe sticking out. The brains were downright delicious. They had been mashed and mixed with bits of bread and sage.

There were dodgers. There was coleslaw. There were vegetables. There was even a bowl of macaroni, which I found I liked a lot. There was pudding. There was sweet potato pie. Thankfully, there was piping hot coffee by the gallon to wash the food down.

I overdid it. When I finally pushed the last plate back, I was fit to burst and feeling as sluggish as a snail in winter. I told the maid to relay my praise to the cook, and Gertrude mentioned that they had imported him from New Orleans. That was supposed to impress me, and it did with how much she loved money and the trappings that came with having a lot of it. Once again, though, I had to wonder how they could afford feeds like this. The LT wasn’t that big. I knew of other spreads in Texas that ran many thousands more head, yet the owners did not live in the grand style to which the Tanners were accustomed.

Lloyd and Phil clipped and lit cigars. That was when Gertrude rose and invited me to take a stroll. Her husband did not seem to mind. Calista, though, gave me a strange glance.

The air felt nice after the stuffiness. I stretched and allowed as how I could sleep for a week.

“Sleep on your own time,” Gertrude said sharply. “I am not paying you to lollygag. I want them exterminated as quickly as it can be done.”

“By them you mean the Butcher clan?”

“Who else? They are rustling our cattle and I will not stand for it.”

I leaned against a post and folded my arms. Horses were milling over in the corral, and at the cookhouse the cowboys were indulging in a noisy supper. “The two Butchers I met today claim they have had nothing to do with your missing cattle.”

“Have you ever yet met a guilty man who didn’t profess his innocence?” was her counter.

She had a point. It was a rare badman who admitted to being bad. Lynching bees are not all that popular with those being lynched. “There are women involved.”

Gertrude gave me that pointed stare of hers. “So? You have killed women before, I understand.”

“Once or twice,” I admitted.

“Then what is the problem?”

“I always like to be sure with women.”

“I must say, I never expected you to be so particular,” Gertrude sniffed. “Killing is killing.”

“If you think it’s so easy, do it yourself. Or have your husband and son do it. Or your cowhands.”

“Be serious. The finger of blame must not point at the LT. Word might reach the Rangers and I wouldn’t want that.”

She had another point. The Texas Rangers were a salty bunch. I would as soon be dropped in a pit of alligators as tangle with a company of Texas’s finest.

“How soon can you get it done?”

I looked at her. “Understand something. I don’t rush. Ever. Rush leads to sloppy and sloppy leads to dead. I will take as long as I need to take and not a minute less or a minute more.”

She pursed her lips as if she had just sucked on a lemon and begrudgingly said, “Very well. Just don’t take too long. There are factors involved of which you are unaware.”

“Then make me aware of them,” I said.

“Personal factors. All that should concern you is the job and the money.”

Among my peeves is being told what I should and should not be concerned about. “Speaking of which, I want five hundred dollars before I leave tonight or you can hire someone else. The rest is due after they are all dead.”

“I will fetch your money shortly.” Gertrude placed her hand on my arm. “How long will it take? I hate to press you, but it is important.”

I shrugged. “Two weeks, at the most.”

“Surely not.”

“There are nine of them,” I reminded her.

“Couldn’t you just catch them when they are all in their cabin and blow them up?” Gertrude asked.

And folks accuse me of being bloodthirsty. “I could if you want it to be in every

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