died! That’s all!”
Longarm came up, took Susanna’s arms, and led her away from the table. She was trembling but not crying. He took her outside to the porch and sat her down on the bench. In the house, he heard Floyd say to Belle and Sam, “By God, he’s dead, all right.”
“Too bad,” Belle said. “Damned if you’re not having rough luck, Floyd. Maybe we’d just better call off that job we figured on. Seems to me like there’s a jinx on it.”
“No, by God!” Floyd replied angrily. “We’re not calling off anything, Belle! I’m holding you to your word! We’ll find somebody to fill in for Mckee and Lonnie, even if you and Sam have to take their places.”
“Now that’s something to think about,” Belle said slowly. “I’ve dressed like a man before; I don’t see why I couldn’t do it again. Borrow a pair of Bobby’s pants and a shirt, paste on a false horsetail mustache. I guess I could still carry it off.” Sam said quietly, “I don’t think you could, Belle. You’ve got pretty big in the ass lately.”
“Well, damn you, Sam!”
There was the sound of a slap, and Sam came running out the door, clattered across the porch, and disappeared into the barn. Belle came to the door after him.
“Where’d he go?” she asked Longarm. “No husband of mine is going to make snide remarks about my figure! You think it’s all right, don’t you, Windy? You don’t think my butt’s too big?”
“You look just fine to me, Belle,” Longarm said. He thought he might divert her from pursuing the luckless Sam. “Of course, I never did see you before just recently, so I don’t know what you used to look like.”
“Well, I haven’t changed all that much,” Belle snapped. She pulled her skirt tightly around her hips and swayed in front of Longarm. “See?”
“I don’t know what you’re all thinking about!” Susanna burst out. “Lonnie just died, and everybody’s fighting and arguing! Windy, is there somewhere around here that you can take me where I can just be quiet a little while?”
“Sure, Susanna. I’ll walk you down to my cabin. You’re tuckered out anyhow, and you need to rest up awhile.”
Belle said, “Listen, missy. You’re new at this game. I’m Belle Starr, the Bandit Queen, and I’ve seen a lot of men die, including a husband or two. You’ll find out, after you’ve been around awhile, that when something bad happens, you can’t waste time mourning over it. You grit your teeth and laugh if you can, and you go on living!”
“Well, it seems real heartless to me!” Susanna said. Her eyes were still dry, but her mouth was drawn down at the corners and her chin was trembling.
“You’ll think differently after you’ve lived a little bit longer,” Belle said. Then, turning to Longarm, “Go ahead, Windy. Take her down to your place and let her sleep a while; that’s what she needs. You come back when you get hungry. Sam’s going to have breakfast ready pretty soon.”
As they walked across the rough, rock-strewn soil of Younger’s Bend to the cabin Longarm was supposed to be occupying, the lawman realized that Susanna was suffering from exhaustion as well as from a delayed reaction to Taylor’s death. She stumbled several times on pebbles during the short walk from the house, and, halfway there, her legs began to tremble and her body to wobble.
“Help me, Windy!” she pleaded. “I don’t think I can walk the rest of the way by myself.”
Longarm put an arm around Susanna and supported her until they got into the cabin. He led her to one of the bunks. She slumped down on it, and he lifted her legs onto the tattered mattress. “Thank you, Windy,” she said. “All of a sudden, I’m so… soo… sleepy…”
Her words trailed off with a sigh. Her breathing, which had been ragged, almost spasmodic, settled down into the easy regularity of sleep. Longarm stood for a moment, looking down at her.
Now, in real light, he could see that she must be past her mid-twenties. At the corners of her eyes, fine lines promised crow’s-feet soon to show. Delicate lines were also faintly visible running from her nostrils to the corners of her mouth. The mouth itself was almost perfectly circular, with lip-peaks and corners almost imperceptible; her lips were virtually the same width all the way around the small, slightly protruding teeth that showed when her lips were parted with her breathing. Her chin was round, like that of a child whose face is just settling into adulthood. Under her thin dress, the twin globes of firm, round breasts jutted high. Her long ashen hair lay tumbled around her head and shoulders.
Longarm left Susanna sleeping and walked back to the house, where the argument had shifted from the job planned by Floyd to a dispute over who was going to dig Taylor’s grave.
“Damned if I’m going to push that shovel into this hard dirt ever again!” Floyd proclaimed. “Mckee was my partner a long time. Taylor I don’t hardly know.”
“You’ll have to bury him then, Sam,” Belle told Starr, who had apparently returned from the barn. “But if you can get Floyd to help you carry him up to the grove, you can put off digging his grave until Yazoo shows up to help you.”
Longarm waited outside until Starr and Floyd came out, carrying Taylor’s body between them. He’d learned the army lesson that began somewhere in the dim past, with Attila’s hordes or Caesar’s legions, never to volunteer. When Floyd and Starr rounded the corner of the house on their way to the grove, he went inside.
Belle sat in a chair at the table, staring at the bloodstained tabletop. “You’ll have to wait until Sam gets back and scrubs the table before we can have breakfast,” she said. “Unless you want to wash it yourself.”
“I’ll wait,” Longarm told her curtly. “I want a drink before I eat, anyhow.”
“There’s coffee on the stove and some whiskey left in the bottle,” she informed him. “Take your choice.”
“Meaning no offense toward your whiskey, Belle, but I’ve got what’s left of a bottle of Maryland rye out in the barn. I’ll just step out and get it.”
“What’s wrong with Younger’s Bend whiskey?” she demanded. “Yazoo is as good a whiskey-maker as any you’ll find in a regular distillery.”
