“Well, if you’re gonna twist my arm…” Matt said. He took the jug, lifted it to his mouth, and polished off the last few drops of moonshine. Then he licked his lips in appreciation.
“Want anything to eat?” Harlow asked.
Sam shook his head. “No, thanks. We had supper in town with Marshal Coleman and his daughter.”
“Ol’ Marsh Coleman’s a fine hombre, sure enough. Knowed him ever since he come to Cottonwood. Hate to see a fella like that put in such a bad position.”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“Havin’ to enforce that liquor law like he does. I know good an’ well Marsh don’t believe in it.”
“He’s sworn to uphold the law, though, whether he agrees with it or not.”
Harlow nodded. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. If he caught Frankie or one of us sellin’ booze in town, he’d be bound to arrest us. He wouldn’t like it, but he’d do it.”
“I don’t know,” Matt said. “Could be he’s turnin’ a blind eye to Loomis’s secret saloon in that old barn. Surely he’s heard rumors about it by now.”
“Mebbeso,” Harlow said. “I wouldn’t want to risk it, though. That’s why we only make our deliveries at night, and we’re mighty careful about it even then. Or Frankie is, I should say.” He clasped his hands together in front of him. “Well, if you gents are ready to turn in, don’t let us keep you up. Alf, get these fellas some blankets to take out to the barn. Plenty o’ hay in there you can bed down on, and there shouldn’t be any varmints. Got a couple o’ old cats that’re damn fine mousers.”
“We’re much obliged for the hospitality,” Sam said.
“We’ll figure out some way to pay you back,” Matt added. “Maybe give you a hand with your troubles.”
“Matt…” Sam began.
Thurman Harlow held up a hand. “Don’t you two go to squabblin’ again. Ain’t no need for that. We’ll be fine. We’ll figure out some way o’ dealing with Cimarron Kane.”
Alf Harlow came back with an armload of blankets. He handed them to Matt and Sam, who took the bedding and said their good nights. They headed out to the barn.
“You’re bein’ downright rude,” Matt said as they walked through the night.
“How?” Sam asked. “By not wanting to get us mixed up in a shooting war that’s none of our business?”
“You saw for yourself in town what Kane’s relatives are like. And then tonight the rest of them ambushed a helpless girl!”
“Frankie didn’t look all that helpless when she was shoving a gun against your throat.”
“She wouldn’t have stood a chance against Kane and his bunch, though, and you know it.”
“I reckon you’re right about that,” Sam agreed. “I don’t like it when anybody attacks a woman, no matter how good she is at defending herself.”
“You see? You heard what Mr. Harlow said. The Kanes have them outnumbered two to one. They’re in for a heap of trouble.”
“Well…they wouldn’t be if they gave up making moonshine and let Kane take over the illegal whiskey trade.”
Matt growled in frustration. “You just don’t understand, do you? Since when did you become such a champion of law and order? I seem to remember you bein’ right beside me a few times in the past when we were bendin’ a few laws.”
“That’s true, but we were trying to help folks who needed our help. People who were the victims of injustice, or who couldn’t defend themselves.”
“I’d say it’s an injustice for Cimarron Kane to try to murder these good folks.”
“Good folks who are making illegal whiskey.”
Matt threw his hands in the air. “I give up! I don’t know what’s got into—Wait just a damned minute.”
“What?” Sam asked.
Matt came to a stop and faced his blood brother. “This is about Hannah Coleman, isn’t it? You still want to help her father because of how you feel about her.”
“Hannah’s got nothing to do with it,” Sam insisted.
“Sure she does. You’re sweet on her. I said it before, and I still believe it.”
“You can believe whatever you want,” Sam said stiffly. “That doesn’t make it true.”
Matt grunted and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s it. I see it all now.”
“I’m not sure you see anything…except the way Frankie fills out those jeans she wears.”
“Blast it, Sam, you’ve got no call to go talkin’ like that!”
“Just let it go, Matt,” Sam said with a sigh. “I’ve got a hunch we’re not going to be able to see eye to eye on this argument.”
“Huh. Bet a hat we won’t.”
They went into the barn and found a couple of widely separated places to spread the blankets Alf Harlow had given them. Then they curled up in the hay to sleep. Both of the blood brothers had trouble dozing off, though. Each was thinking about the trouble they had unwittingly ridden into here in western Kansas.
