you personally, also.'
'Oh, go to hell, Mr. Long. But what is all this business in here about a treasurer? You got a company big enough to have a treasurer and an assistant treasurer?'
'Happens we do.'
'What the hell is the name of this company?'
Longarm thought swiftly and then put the initials of his name and Billy Vail's name together. He said, 'It's the V & L Land and Cattle Company. We don't expect to include the whiskey part.'
Carson shook his head, folded the paper, and then stuck it into his shirt pocket. He said, 'Well, you've got a strange way of doing business, Mr. Long. You come down here to buy some whiskey and you don't bring no money. Your credit is no good. Boy, you're really some kind of slouch, I have to say.'
Longarm was pulling a roll of money out of his pants. He said, 'Let me hand you some cash. Heaven knows I don't want you to be out of pocket, Mr. Carson.'
Carson gave him a wave. 'Forget it, Mr. Long. You can reimburse me when I get back.' He smiled slightly. 'Assuming I do get back. Twenty-five hundred dollars, you know, is a lot of money. The reason I know that is because you told me. Before that, I thought twenty-five hundred dollars wasn't much, just small change to folks in Tennessee.'
Longarm said, 'Mark Colton has got the wrong man as the smart aleck. I don't think he's looked you over good or listened to you.'
'I've got sense enough to keep my mouth shut around these kind of folks. I've got better sense than to compliment a woman who has probably fried around a half million chickens on frying a chicken. That's about like complimenting her on how she dips snuff.'
'Is that what's the matter with everyone's teeth around here?'
Carson smiled. He said, 'Hell, yes. What did you think?'
Longarm said, 'I'm glad to see that Sally hasn't taken the habit up.'
Carson said, 'I should have warned you about her mother dying. She just up and was gone all of a sudden. I was here about six months ago, and she had just died. Just went like that.'
'It was probably from frying chicken or from dipping snuff, I would guess.'
Carson gave Longarm a look. 'I wouldn't be making any jokes about that around here, if I were you.'
Longarm sat down on his bed. He said, 'Frank, I can promise you that until you get back, I am going to be the quietest son of a bitch you've ever seen. In fact, I may not even move out of this cabin. I may not take a step outside this door.'
Carson said, 'That wouldn't be a bad idea.'
The next morning, Carson left right after breakfast. It was a quiet affair with eggs and ham and coffee. As usual, no one talked. Sally was not there, nor were any of the other women except the stringy-haired one, who supervised breakfast but did not sit down to eat. Longarm tried to sit down and talk to Asa Colton but got nothing but a series of silences and grunts. It finally struck him that these were folks who didn't much care to talk at the breakfast table. As near as he could figure, they did not much care to talk at any time.
After the meal and after Frank Carson was gone, Longarm wandered out beyond the outer buildings, walking over the rough ground toward the meadow full of cornstalks. He was just ambling along in the cool morning air, stepping carefully in his high-heeled boots. He was about a half mile from the house when he heard a sound from behind. He turned and was startled to see Sally Colton not far away, standing stock-still and looking at him. She was wearing a tight-fitting blue and white print gown with a square bodice that showed her lightly tanned skin. It contrasted wonderfully with her raven hair, her dark, greenish blue eyes, and the red of her lips.
She was a small girl, he had noticed. Small but with what apparently were fulsome breasts. She was, he thought, his type, but he had no intentions of touching her, no matter what her type. The job came first; his life also came first, and he had the distinct impression that he would be killed quicker for showing an interest in her than if he were to pull out his U.S. deputy marshal's badge. He wasn't, of course, afraid of anyone on the place in anything resembling a fair fight, but he knew well and good that these mountain folks did not fight fair. They were masters of the bushwack, the ambush. Their method of fighting was with a long, accurate rifle from about a quarter mile away. They were back-shooters, a sudden knife in the belly. Vengeful, mean, and dangerous.
And yet, there she stood, not much more than ten or twelve feet away, her eyes locked on his face, her lips slightly parted. He had been thinking about Frank Carson and his trip into Little Rock, speculating on how long the business would take. He had calculated a day into the city, a day to tend to the business for both of them, a day to wait for the telegram, and then a day back. He did not expect Carson to return for more than four days, and he thoroughly believed it was going to be about as long a four days as he had ever spent.
But now all those thoughts fled from his mind. They were a half mile from the main house, protected and sheltered by the outbuildings. He could not see another soul in sight. Behind him was a large, long cornfield, the stalks five and six feet high. Sally came toward him. He didn't move. She came straight up and stopped right before him and looked up into his face. She said in her soft, warm voice, 'You're different.'
She said it flatly, as if stating a fact that had just occurred to her.
Longarm said, 'Miss Sally, I don't think we ought to be out here like this.'
Sally said, 'Shut up.' Then she reached forward and took his hand in hers and walked around, leading him behind her. He went unwillingly, but he went. She led him straight into the field of corn. As they stepped into its cool greenness, he noticed that it was floored with hay. He imagined that was for a mulch to keep the weeds down and to help the soil retain moisture. She walked straight ahead, pulling him along between one of the middle rows. Once inside the green vastness, Longarm felt a sudden sense of aloneness, of solitude, of being hidden. She slipped easily between the rows while his wide shoulders brushed against the stalks on both sides. She walked twenty yards, then thirty yards, and then a little farther until they were about halfway into the stand of corn.
Sally stopped and turned to him and looked at him. For a moment, she neither moved nor spoke. Then she reached up with both hands and took him by the neck, pulling his face down to hers. Her mouth was already open as she began to kiss him. At first, he didn't know what to do, but almost unwillingly, he put his arms around her. He could feel her clinging to him pressing her front against him. The heat rose in him, and he could feel his jeans getting tight. He could feel his heart and the blood pounding in his ears. It had been a long time since he had had a
