'You're not giving me much.'
'I did the first day. You were in bad shape when I came to visit you the first time.'
'I suppose that I was. Dr. Hubbard kept looking at me like I had one foot in the grave. He was pretty relieved when I got that hundred dollars of expense money from Denver.'
'Dr. Hubbard barely makes a living. People pay him with milk, eggs, butter, chickens, and about everything except cash. He needed your government money, Custis.'
'What about you?' Longarm gazed into her blue eyes.
'Willa, you haven't asked me for a cent.'
'No,' she said with a smile, 'not yet.'
'I'm giving you fifty dollars,' he decided out loud. 'I know you've lost wages and tips because you've spent so much time with me this past week.'
'Thanks. It was a pleasure.'
'I've got to go,' Longarm said, pushing off of her warm, soft body and pausing to admire it one last time. 'No man ever had a better nurse.'
'Any time,' she said, enjoying the admiration she saw reflected in his eyes. 'Any old time.'
Longarm dressed quickly and strapped on his gunbelt. His lips raised in a slight smile and he said, 'My belt is one notch farther out, thanks to your cooking.'
'You're still too skinny,' she told him. 'You could use another twenty pounds, easy.'
'I guess.'
'And I could put them on you in about two weeks, if things change and you find you can stop over for a while on your way back from Yuma.'
'Not likely, but I'll keep it in mind. Besides, for every two pounds I gain, I work one of 'em off in bed with you, Willa.'
She giggled, but when he came over to kiss her goodbye, her eyes were shining with tears and she hugged his neck tightly, not wanting to let him go.
'Time for us both to get back to work, Willa,' he said, feeling his own throat lump. 'Time for me to climb on that early morning stage to Yuma.'
She took a deep breath and said, 'And I guess I ought to go back to the Sagebrush Cafe and serve breakfast.'
Longarm slipped fifty dollars into her dress pocket and blew Willa a kiss good-bye. He had already paid Dr. Hubbard, which did not leave him much cash. But he had sold both his horse and Lucy's strawberry roan for a pretty good price, so he knew that he would be just fine.
'Back to Yuma, huh, Marshal?' the driver said fifteen minutes later as Longarm pitched his saddlebags and bedroll inside.
'That's right.'
'Well, we've only got two other passengers to keep you company today. The Reverend Bertram B. Cheshire and his wife, Agnes. They'll keep you awake.'
Longarm glanced inside the stage. It was still empty, meaning the reverend and his wife had not yet arrived. 'What does that mean?'
'Are you a church-goin' man?'
'I go to weddings and funerals.'
'Well,' the driver said with a wink, 'you'll sure hear the word of God. I expect that old Bertram will want to put the fire of redemption in your soul.'
Longarm expelled a deep breath. 'Thanks for the warning,' he said, climbing into the coach and wanting nothing better than to rest quietly as this stagecoach carried him back to Yuma.
'They're real nice people,' the driver said. 'Agnes can get a little tedious, but she's probably got a picnic basket packed with food, and they're both generous people.'
'Glad to hear that.'
'But don't be carrying whiskey and takin' snorts in their presence,' the driver warned. 'Both Bert and Agnes are just death on drink.'
'I haven't any whiskey,' Custis said. 'But it sounds as if maybe I should buy a bottle. Perhaps that way they'd write me off and leave me in peace to rest.'
'Doubt it,' the driver said, 'but if you did that, you'd miss out on the picnic basket.'
'Life is full of hard choices,' Longarm said, climbing inside and taking his seat.
Five minutes later, the reverend and his wife appeared. He was a little man, bald with round spectacles and a slight hitch in his gait. Longarm judged the reverend to be in his mid-sixties, and despite his slight limp and diminutive size, he looked lively and cheerful. Agnes was quite his opposite. She was a very large woman. Agnes dwarfed her husband and wore a shapeless print dress, pink crocheted sweater, and her shoes were so tight the tops of her feet sort of puffed out. She looked crabby and critical to Longarm, and her brows were knitted in disapproval. Longarm could see right away that Agnes would take up the entire bench, while he and the reverend would be forced to share the opposite seat. It was, he thought, a good thing that there were only the three of them traveling down to Yuma.
'My dear, let me help you up,' the reverend said, giving Longarm a glance.
