'Figured that much already,' said Longarm. 'I wouldn't want to do her any harm, Joe. You got my word on that.'
Traywick nodded. 'Good. Glad to hear it.'
Of course, Longarm reflected, having heard Molly's boasts about her lusty exploits back in Boston, it was debatable whether or not he would be harming her by a friendly little romp. That seemed to be exactly what she wanted. But it would sure as blazes complicate his current chore, which was to get proof of who was attacking Aurora Mcentire's timber operation and put a stop to it. Business before pleasure, Longarm reminded himself.
That was a good rule... but one that wasn't always easy to follow.
The next morning after breakfast, Longarm and the Chinese cook, whose name was Wing, got on the spring wagon that had been used to pick up Molly at the train station and headed for Timber City. Wing had a long list of supplies he needed for the ranch's kitchen, and Longarm was supposed to help him load them onto the wagon, along with several rolls of barbed wire. On the way into town, Wing chattered incessantly in a sort of pidgin English. Longarm smoked and didn't pay much attention to what the Chinaman was saying.
Suddenly one of Wing's comments intruded itself on his attention. 'Missy Molly ver' pretty, ver' smart. Make some man good wife, you bet.'
Longarm grinned over at his companion. 'You trying to marry me off to your boss's daughter, Wing?'
'Just telling you. Missy Molly like Custis. Wing see it in eyes.'
'Well, old son, you'd better just keep on looking, because I ain't the sort to settle down. Though I'll agree that Miss Molly is mighty pretty and mighty smart.'
'Diamond K good spread. Man who marry Missy Molly wind up with ranch too.'
Longarm threw back his head and laughed. 'You're a hell of a salesman, Wing. But like I said, I ain't the kind of man she needs.' The cook shrugged and said, 'Cannot blame Wing for trying.'
'No, I reckon not.' Longarm played a hunch and went on. 'What do you think about all the troubles Mr. Kinsman's been having lately? You reckon those loggers are behind it, like him and Mr. Traywick think they are?'
'Wing cook once for logging camp. Timber men hate cowboys. Not like 'em at all. Ver' much hard feelings.' Wing's head bobbed up and down. 'Lumberjacks could try hurt Diamond K.'
'You've been around timber cutters before, you said. Did you ever run across any of 'em who knew one end of a cow from the other?'
Wing frowned. 'Lumberjacks not like cattle, except eat.'
'That's right. Seems to me like they'd have had a hard time rustling very many steers, especially since whoever did that was so slick they didn't even leave a trail.'
'Wing not think of that. Confused now.'
'You and me both, old son,' Longarm told him. 'You and me both.'
The previous night Longarm had again listened closely in the bunkhouse for anything that might give away the culprits, and again he had come up empty. This was turning into an odd case. There was trouble on both sides of the argument, and he had likely suspects for all the wrongdoing, but not an ounce of proof for anything. His years in law enforcement had taught him that the simplest explanation was usually the right one... but there were always exceptions that proved the rule.
He pondered on the situation all the way into Timber City. Once they arrived, he was too busy to think about it very much. Wing kept him hopping as they gathered their supplies and loaded them into the back of the wagon. The barbed wire was at the depot, having come in on a freight from back East. The talkative ticket agent noticed Longarm hefting the rolls of wire and tossing them into the back of the Diamond K wagon, and he strolled out of the building to say, 'See you got a job.'
'Yep,' said Longarm. 'Riding for the Diamond K.'
'Well, good luck to you.'
Longarm waved at the man, then, when he was finished with the barbed wire, told Wing, 'I'm going down to the hotel to pick up my gear.'
'Ver' good. Start back to ranch soon.'
'I'll be right back,' Longarm promised.
The desk clerk at the Ponderosa House was the same one who had told Longarm to wipe his feet a couple of days earlier. He looked at Longarm and said, 'Well. I didn't know if we'd see you back here or not.'
'I paid for two nights,' Longarm reminded him. 'That means my warbag and Winchester ought to still be up in my room.'
'Actually, they're here behind the counter. I had one of the boys bring them down earlier this morning.'
Longarm supposed the clerk had been within his rights to do that, but it still annoyed him a little. He gave the clerk a curt nod as the man handed the rifle and the warbag over the counter to him.
'Leaving town, are you?' asked the clerk.
'I'm riding for the Diamond K now,' said Longarm. Wouldn't hurt to spread that news, he thought. Having a job in the area would allow him to poke around without arousing any suspicions--he hoped.
He had to get word to Aurora Mcentire that he was still working on her behalf, despite his employment on Matt Kinsman's ranch. The best thing to do might be to pay a surreptitious visit to the lumber camp as soon as possible. He would keep his eyes open for an opportunity to do just that.
He slung his warbag over his shoulder and carried the Winchester back down to the depot, where Wing was waiting impatiently on the seat of the spring wagon. The reins were already in the cook's hands when Longarm tossed his warbag in the back on top of the supplies. He kept the rifle across his knees as he settled down on the seat next to Wing.
