Longarm sighed. “Your boss knows what this is about.”
“Look, maybe I can talk to him.”
“Go ahead.”
“If you’d just tell me what it is you want …”
“Restitution,” Longarm said.
“Pardon me?”
“The word is …”
“Oh, I know the word. I just don’t understand you using it in connection with this here. Whatever has Clete done that you’re wanting him to make restitution?”
“He knows. I’m sure he’ll understand if you tell him what I’ve said.”
“Mister, I’d be willing to memorize a bunch of nonsense from you if that would get things back to normal.”
“Then all you need to tell him is that one word, friend. Restitution. He can take it from there if he wants.”
“I’ll sure try it.” The bartender looked indecisive for a moment, then shrugged. “What the hell. He said I was to take charge.” The fellow raised his voice and called out, “We’re closing again, boys. Everybody go on now. We’re shutting down for the night.”
It wasn’t yet eight o’clock.
Longarm waited until everyone else was out, then stood outside and watched while the place was closed down and locked. He would check again later, of course, to make sure they didn’t reopen once he was gone. What he was figuring, though, was that Clete Terry was a man who couldn’t stand to lose money too many days in a row. And for the time being he would be spending more to keep his saloon afloat than he was taking in from the few paying customers.
Before very long, Longarm figured, Terry would be wanting to reach an accommodation. Or square off in a last-ditch fight. One or the other. The truth was that Longarm didn’t much give a shit which way Cletus Terry decided to go.
He left the dark and silent saloon behind and went to see about a dinner for three that he could carry back to the Fulton house.
Chapter 25
Longarm was proud of himself. Angela had had Buddy change the sheets on her bed this afternoon, and Longarm had been able to get all the way through the meal without slopping any broth, clabber, or honey-sweetened tea onto the clean bedding. He considered that an accomplishment of the first water.
“You look a lot better this evening,” he said as he piled the dirty dishes onto the tray he’d brought from the cafe.
“You’re just saying that,” Angela protested. “I’m sure I look a perfect sight.”
He grinned. “If you’re feeling up to fishin’ for compliments, ma’am, then I reckon you’re on the mend for certain sure.”
“Compliments? Why, I intended no such thing.”
“Huh. So you say. But I been around a while, y’know. An’ any time a pretty lady goes to mentioning how bad she looks, it’s for sure she wants a gentleman to correct that statement by telling her how good she looks. Mind you remember that, Buddy. It’s a truth every man should oughta know.”
The boy grinned. Angela tried to, but ended up wincing as the expression pulled at the corners of her mouth where her scabs were still mighty tender.
“I can take them dishes back, Mr. Long,” Buddy offered.
“Those dishes,” his mother corrected.
“Yes M.”
“Thanks for the offer, son, but I have to go right past there anyway.”
“Could I help you carry them then? I’m strong, you know. I can help.”
“All right. That sounds fair.” Longarm figured the boy probably wanted to help pull his weight. Possibly his mama had spoken to him about that before Longarm returned that evening. Whatever, there was no reason why he couldn’t carry some of the stuff if he wanted to. “That all right with you, Miz Fulton? I’ll send him right back in case you need anything before I come in for the night.”
“I’m fine here. Really.”
“Good. Buddy, you can go ahead an’ gather up the rest of the things. I’ll take the tray an’ you can carry that pail there.”
Not the least bit shy about the open display of affection, Buddy kissed his mother goodbye, then he and Longarm took the soiled containers and whatnot that Longarm had brought from the cafe, carrying them out into the young night.
It wasn’t late, but the night air was cool and pleasant. The sky was cloudless, and the stars were as brilliant as far-off gas lamps overhead. Longarm noticed the stars, but Buddy paid them no mind.
“Mr. Long?”
“Yes, son?”
“Do you like my ma?”
