She walked over to him and whispered in his ear. “Yeah, but now I do feel like a hooker.”
She was wearing just a hint of perfume. He said, “Well, you don’t look like one. You look elegant. Mighty ladylike. And I’m glad to see you let your hair down.”
She leaned against the far end of the plank bar. “I’m glad you approve. I always like to please the boss.”
Higgins cleared his throat and got his big watch out of his vest pocket. He said, “Sylvie, do you know it is goin’ on fer ten o’clock? It’s a good ways past our bedtime. We can let Miss Rita Ann shake down on the divan, can’t we?”
“Oh, my goodness, yes. I can fix that up real comfortable. I got a eiderdown quilt, dear, that is warmer than a good man on a cold night. But, Herman, if I mean, if Mr. Long is going to sleep out here, you better build him up a fire in the fireplace. This room gets mighty cold at night, Ma-” She had almost made the mistake twice and it flustered her. She said quickly, “I’ll be goin’ and gettin’ your bedclothes, Rita Ann.”
“I’ll help.”
Longarm helped Higgins put some big log chunks on the fireplace dogs and get it all lit. Higgins said, “They bring us the wood in from down south whenever anybody thinks ‘bout it. Ain’t much to be found hereabouts.”
“I wouldn’t reckon,” Longarm said.
Higgins said, “I’m right sorry about the way my old woman nearly give the business away. I’ll speak right sharp to her about that.”
“No, don’t. No harm done and she has been mighty nice. Besides, it may not matter about the girl knowing. I might tell her myself in a couple of days. Except then she won’t take no more money from me.”
“I’d better get to bed, Marshal. We rise right early here. But I reckon you do too.”
Longarm walked back to the bar. “I’ll be ready for the coffee before it stops brewing.”
Higgins bade him good night, and then disappeared behind the door of his quarters. Longarm sat at the bar, nursing the last of a drink, wondering if Rita Ann would come out to bid him good night. Likely she wouldn’t. She’d think that the Higginses would notice and might not approve.
He was surprised five minutes later to see the Higginses’ door open and Rita Ann come through, closing it behind her. She came straight to him and leaned sideways against the bar, very near. He could smell that faint perfume she was wearing. She smiled. “Really like the dress?”
“I reckon,” he said, his voice a little husky. He took a quick drink of whiskey, trying not to let his imagination get to work.
She said, “I’d like to thank you for what you’ve done for me.”
He gave his head a quick shake, trying not to notice how the bosom of the dress cupped her breasts. He said, “No thanks needed. None wanted or expected.”
“I still want to thank you.” As she said it she leaned slightly closer.
He studied her for a second. “How, by punching my card?”
She frowned. “What?”
He shook his head quickly and poured some more whiskey in his glass. “Nothing. You want a drink?”
“No. I want to know what you meant.”
In spite of her denial he pulled over a fresh glass and splashed a little whiskey in it for her, and then added some water out of a pitcher. He pushed it in front of her. He said, “It’s nothing, just an old saying. Used to be a whorehouse down in Del Rio that would give cards out to their regular customers. Each card had ten little boxes on it, and every time a customer would come in the lady he was with would punch out one of the boxes, punch his card. When he had ten boxes punched the next time was free.” He shrugged. “I shouldn’t have said it.”
She was still frowning. “You damn sure shouldn’t have.”
He gave her a look. “You come out a while ago and said you felt like a hooker. I didn’t know it was such a touchy subject.”
“I was trying to tell you I wanted to thank you.”
“Well, how the hell else was I supposed to figure you meant it? What was you going to do, come over and offer to oil my saddle?”
“For all you know, I was going to offer to wash your shirts.”
“Mrs. Higgins already done that.”
“Oh? And what did you do for Mrs. Higgins?”
He looked around quickly. She had a small smile on her face. It made her look younger than she was. He said, “You over your little pout?”
She moved close enough that she could put her arms around his shoulders and cup her hands behind his neck. But she made no move to bring her face closer to his. She said, “I can’t figure out who the hell you are.”
He looked away. “I told you. I’m a businessman in the cattle trade.”
“No, you’re not. I’ve known businessmen and you’re not a thing like them. You’ve got too much of an air of, of authority about you. Even I can feel it, and Mr. and Mrs. Higgins act like you hung the moon. You act like a man used to giving orders and having them obeyed. Are you some kind of boss of this stage line?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m sure not. I’m no more to this stage line than you are.”
“Then how come Mr. Higgins uses the telegraph for you?”
“He used it for you, didn’t he? Wired about your bag.”
