the construction of the Central Pacific Railroad a little more than a decade earlier. A lot of those former coolies had a way with grub, Longarm knew, so he expected dinner would be good.
The inside of the house showed the same care as the outside. Molly had been away at school in the East for several years, so it wasn't a particularly feminine place, but Longarm could see a woman's hand at work here and there. The windows all had curtains on them, and the rugs were clean. Chairs and sofas made of heavy wood and thickly cushioned were scattered around the big main room. Through a wide doorway with a thick beam above it was the dining room, complete with a long table that had been polished to a high shine. A glass-fronted cabinet on one side of the room contained the late Mrs. Kinsman's china and crystal, and all of it sparkled in the light of the oil-burning chandelier that hung over the table. The place settings tonight weren't anything fancy, but the plates and cups and silverware were functional enough to suit the cowboys who were gathering around the table.
The table itself was loaded with platters of food. Longarm saw steaks and fried chicken, bowls full of mashed potatoes and green beans, corn on the cob, steamed carrots, biscuits, gravy, and sliced tomatoes. Longarm felt hunger pangs clutch at his belly. The lunch he had grabbed quickly in Timber City before riding out had been both meager and a long time ago. He was ready to eat.
Matt Kinsman was already seated at the head of the table, with Molly at his right hand. Joe Traywick took the chair at the other end of the table. There was a vacant seat to his left, and he gestured for Longarm to take it. As Longarm did so, he looked across the table and found himself staring into the angry face of the young cowboy, Seth Thomas. Seth's jaw was already starting to turn purple where Longarm had clouted him.
There weren't any other empty chairs, and to move at this point wouldn't have looked very good anyway, so there was nothing left to do except brazen it out. Longarm smiled and nodded at Seth, who just glowered that much more. A glance at the other end of the table told Longarm that Molly was watching what was going on, but he couldn't read the expression on her face.
'Say grace for us, Joe,' rumbled Kinsman, and all the cowboys bowed their heads. Traywick muttered a blessing. Then, almost as one, eager hands shot out toward the platters of food, and the next few minutes were filled with the clatter of silverware as the cowboys served themselves and passed along the platters.
Longarm heaped his plate and dug in with enthusiasm. The Chinese cook carried around a coffeepot and filled everyone's cup. There was glasses of buttermilk too, cool enough so that little beads of moisture formed on the outside. The meal was every bit as good as Longarm expected it to be.
Like most of the other ranch crews he had been around, these men weren't talkative when there was serious business like eating to be taken care of. Conversation would come later in the bunkhouse, while they were playing cards or mending tack or whittling or just shooting the breeze. Though he would never go back to it, cowboying wasn't a bad way to live, Longarm thought. The work was hard and sometimes dangerous, the pay was poor at best, but it was a life that had its own special rewards.
Sort of like being a deputy United States marshal.
When the meal was over, most of the hands headed for the bunkhouse. Seth gave Longarm an especially baleful stare before he went. Longarm returned the look blandly, not letting the youngster see that he was getting a little annoyed. As Matt Kinsman scraped back his chair and stood up, he said, 'Joe, you and Custis stay here a minute, if you don't mind.'
'Sure, Matt,' said Traywick, and Longarm nodded.
Kinsman turned to his daughter. 'Molly, you can go on upstairs.'
'What if I don't want to?' she asked. She had changed into a simple dress with little blue and yellow flowers all over it, and Longarm thought she looked mighty pretty.
'Blast it, girl, I'm goin' to be talkin' business,' Kinsman said with a scowl.
'And who's going to be running this ranch someday?' said Molly.
'Your husband, damn it!'
Molly made a delicate sound of utter disdain that Longarm imagined must have been part of the curriculum back there in Massachusetts at Miss Hallowell's Academy for Young Ladies. Every woman he had ever encountered had known how to make it, from soiled doves to countesses, so he figured somebody had to be teaching it somewhere.
Kinsman was just as stubborn as his daughter, however, and after a few minutes of stubborn, mutually glowering silence, Molly gave up and left the dining room. Longarm heard her steps on the stairs leading up to the second and third floors. He wondered idly which floor her bedroom was on ... not that he was likely to be finding out.
Kinsman led Longarm and Traywick into his study, the walls of which were lined with bookshelves and gun racks. As he sat down behind a big desk, the rancher asked Longarm, 'Did Joe fill you in on the trouble we've been havin' around here?'
Longarm nodded. 'Yes, sir, he did.'
'You look like a man who's seen a mite of trouble in his time,' said Kinsman bluntly. 'That's one of the reasons I hired you. What do you think of the situation?' Carefully, Longarm said, 'Sounds like those lumberjacks up on the mountain are a mite too big for their britches.'
'Damn right,' said Kinsman with a snort. 'They're behind all of it, I'll warrant. And I'll not take any more from them, either. Next timber-cutter I find gettin' up to mischief on my range, he's goin' to rue the day he was born, by God!'
'Maybe you ought to take the fight to them,' suggested Longarm casually. It wasn't likely Kinsman would admit to a near stranger that he was behind the problems up at the lumber camp, but anything was possible. Sometimes long shots paid off.
But not this time. Kinsman scowled and shook his head vehemently. 'Nope. I ain't one to hunt trouble, and as long as I'm left alone, I'll leave the other fella to go on about his business.' His fist came down on the desk with a thump. 'But I'll not be trifled with neither. I just want you to know, Custis--you find any of those lumberjacks on Diamond K range, you handle it however you see fit and I'll back you up on it. I wouldn't say that to all of my hands--some of 'em are too young and hot-headed--but I figure you've been around enough to know what to do.'
Longarm nodded solemnly. 'As long as I'm drawing pay from you, I'll look out for your interests, Mr. Kinsman. You got my word on that.' That wasn't exactly a lie, Longarm added to himself. He didn't intend to ever draw any wages from the rancher. He planned to have this case wrapped up and be long gone from Oregon by the time a
