“That suits me,” Longarm told the others. “Makes pretty good sense, I’d say.”
Belle could see that none of them was going to listen to her, but she battled to the finish. “Suppose there’s a slip-up? What if a posse takes after us and we have to break up before we can stop to split the take?”
“Then we’ll all meet back here,” Longarm suggested. “But you’re suppose to have things fixed so that won’t happen, Belle.”
“it won’t. Or shouldn’t.” Belle was on the defensive now. “You can’t control everything all the time, though. Something could go wrong.”
“All right,” Floyd agreed. “We’ll do like Windy said, meet back here and wait until we’re all together before we divvy up. But provided your setup holds good, and we ride away from the job free and clear, it’s going to be one hell of a long time before you’ll see me at Younger’s Bend again. It’s been too damned unlucky a place for me.”
“Amen to that,” Steed said. “I’ll be riding on when the job’s finished, too. How about you, Windy?”
“I didn’t aim to stay this long when I headed here. Just a night or two.”
“It’s all settled, then?” Belle asked. She spoke tautly, and they could all see she was holding her anger in check. “If it is, we’d better get ready and go.”
“All that’s left is for you to tell us where to ride if we get separated after the job,” Floyd told her. “You said you knew trails we could use to get to other hideouts, places where we’ll be safe.”
“I’ll tell you all that tonight, after we’re in camp,” Belle replied. “There’s no use wasting time on it now. We’ll be getting a later start than we ought to, as it is. I’ll be ready in ten minutes. I suppose all of you can be ready then?”
They broke up at once, to make their individual Preparations for departure. Longarm took fewer than the five minutes he’d told Belle he would require. All he had to do was roll up his bedroll, toss loose items into his saddlebags, and pick up his rifle. Carrying the bedroll and saddlebags balancing one another on opposite shoulders, his rifle in his hand, he returned to the barn. He was saddling the hammerhead bay when Belle came in.
“It looks like you’ll be the first one saddled up, Windy,” she said.
Longarm turned to look at her, and his jaw dropped. Belle was wearing men’s clothes, denim jeans tucked into boots, a flannel shirt, and a linsey-woolsey jacket that fitted loosely over her torso. She’d pulled her hair up under the low-crowned, wide-brimmed Stetson she had on, and her face under the brim might have been that of a callow youth, except for the age-lines it bore and loose flesh of her neck that showed above the loose shirt collar. She hadn’t abandoned her pearl-handled, silver-plated revolvers, though. She still wore them as she had when she’d been in a dress, in front, ahead of her hips, as was necessary when she roed sidesaddle.
Longarm said, “I didn’t look for you to be dolled up in an outfit like that.”
“I’ve worn men’s clothes before, when I was on a job,” she replied. “Mat’s why nobody credits me with a lot of jobs that I pulled off with Sam and with Jim Reed or Blue Duck.” Then she remembered her old boast and added quickly, “And Jesse and Frank James, of course.”
Longarm finished tightening the cinch around the hammerhead’s belly and dropped the stirrups down to hang by the horse’s sides. “I guess it’d fool somebody who just got a quick look,” he said.
“That’s not what you started to say, though,” Belle told him. “You’re all ready, I guess?” Longarm nodded. “Then will you do something for me?
Yazoo doesn’t know for sure we’re all leaving. Will you ride up to the stillhouse and tell him? I want him to sleep down here while we’re gone, and keep an eye on things.”
“You expecting somebody to come calling?”
“No. But I wasn’t expecting you, either, was I? You never know who’ll be riding in, here at the Bend. If Yazoo’s asleep at the stillhouse, he wouldn’t know it if somebody came and carried the damned house away.”
“Sure, I’ll tell him.” Actually Longarm welcomed the idea of being out of the way of everyone else during the period that was going to follow. He knew that tempers grew short when men were preparing to ride into danger, whether they were outlaws or a posse or soldiers.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“No. He’s got all that sugar up there, so he’ll have plenty to do to keep him busy. You should be back here by the time we’re ready to go. The others still have to get their horses saddled.”
“If I don’t get back by the time you’re ready to ride, just go ahead. I’ll catch up,” he said. He led the bay out of the barn and swung up on its back. As he rode off, he saw Floyd and Steed and Bobby, loaded with their saddlebags and bedrolls, heading up toward the house from the cabins.
There was no sign of Yazoo at the stillhouse, but the door was open and noises were coming from inside. Longarm went in, gagging at the overpowering smell of souring corn mash, old wood smoke, and the effluvium of whiskey that had escaped into the packed dirt of the floor. Yazoo was stirring a fresh batch of mash in a tub made from a sawed-in-half hogshead.
“Howdy, Windy.” From the old man’s speech, Longarm judged that Yazoo had been sampling his product pretty steadily since breakfast. That didn’t interfere with his work, apparently.
“Yazoo,” Longarm greeted him with a nod. “Belle wanted me to give you a message.”
“Decided to ride out and take care of that bank job, did you?” Yazoo nodded judiciously. “I sorta had the idea you would, the way they was talking this morning at breakfast, afore you come in. You know, Belle was sure riled at you, Windy, for having that cousin of Sam’s down visiting you last night.” He somehow managed to chuckle and leer at the same time. “Not that I blame you myself. Only thing wrong with Belle is, she’s jealous.”
“I never gave her any cause to be.”
“A’course you didn’t! But Belle gets mad if every man that comes here don’t fall for her.” He dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper. “Belle’s a whore at heart, Windy. Never did get over the days when Jim Reed used to give away a piece of her ass to cinch a tough horse-trade.”
