She had a pert and lovely face, cheekbones high enough to suggest more than a smattering of Indian hiding high in the branches of the family tree and lips that looked so hot it was a wonder there weren’t brand marks all over Crockett. Or hell, maybe there were. But in places he didn’t show around for just everybody to see.
Her hair was sleek and glossy and fell to someplace south of her waist. Which Longarm suspected could be spanned by a pair of warm hands.
Not that he would ever find out.
“Miz Crockett.” He bowed and swept his Stetson off, which drew a dimpled smile from the town marshal’s old lady. “Mister Short,” she said in response as Crockett was going along with the fiction of Longarm’s identity even at home now. “Welcome.”
Longarm glanced sideways toward his new friend and saw something of a sparkle in the man’s eyes. Crockett knew what he had here and was damned proud of it. Well, no wonder. Longarm reckoned he would have been, too, if he’d gotten himself a new play-toy as fine as this one.
“I hope you’ll settle for potluck,” Crockett said.
“Whatever you have,” Longarm answered, knowing that Crockett’s pleasures at home need have nothing to do with food.
“Juana, put a plate on for Mr. Short if you please.”
“It is already done, cara. Mama saw you coming up the street with your guest. She had the place fixed before you reached the door. Go wash now. You too, Mr. Short. Hurry or everything will be cold and ruined before it reaches your plate, no?”
When they went into the kitchen, Longarm saw what Crockett meant earlier when he said there wouldn’t be any danger of them running out of food even if a guest hadn’t been announced ahead of time.
There were pots, platters, and steaming plates enough to feed half the town and still have scraps left over to throw to stray dogs.
And there were more than enough folks on hand to get around it all. He got lost midway through the introductions but in addition to Boone and Juana Crockett there were Juana’s father and mother and sister—not but ten or eleven now but with a dark-eyed beauty whose appeal might someday rival her sister’s—and three younger brothers and four or so cousins and … hell, Longarm gave up trying to figure out who they all were. He put the total number somewhere above twenty, the total only a rough estimate due to the ambled comings and goings through a busy back door, and left it at that.
No wonder Crockett hadn’t been concerned about adding a mouth at the table.
Besides, he probably liked having someone around who spoke English. Crockett claimed to have no Spanish, and most of Juana’s people either had no English or hid the knowledge right well if they did understand it.
Crockett and his guest were given places at the kitchen table along with Juana and her parents. Everyone else seemed to wander in, fill a plate and saunter back out again. It was purely amazing the quantities of food that disappeared over the course of the meal.
“That was good,” Crockett said at length, reaching out to give his wife a pat on the backside as she carried a bowl of refritos to the table. People were still coming and going, and Longarm wasn’t sure but that some of the faces belonged to fresh visitors. Juana beamed and paused long enough to wiggle her pretty butt at him before completing her task. Shy she was not. Happy though. Longarm guessed that Crockett and his child bride got along uncommonly well despite the presence of the army of relatives that came along with the package.
After supper, seated in rocking chairs on the front porch with a pair of Longarm’s excellent stogies providing some stomach-soothing smoke, Crockett leaned back and explained, “Best damn thing that ever happened to me, finding Juana.”
“So it looks like,” Longarm agreed.
“I never had much family. My ma died early, giving birth to what would’ve been a brother. After that there was just me and my daddy and the stories he’d read to me about all the old-time heroes. I’m not complaining, mind. My daddy was a good man and he did his best for me. But I like having a big family. And they like knowing I want to take care of them all. Anyway, we get along pretty good, all of us.”
“Nice folks,” Longarm said diplomatically, “and your wife is lovely.”
“She is, isn’t she. Been married almost a year now.” He winked. “Time we start thinking about having a kid of our own to add to the stew.”
Longarm wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that so he settled for pulling some smoke out of his cheroot. Damn, but this was an uncommon fine batch of cigars he’d blundered into.
“Juana!” Crockett raised his voice only a little, but within seconds the girl was at the door to see what her husband needed. “Yes, dear?”
“Me and Chet will be going over to the cathouse soon as we’re done smoking. You wanta ask that brother of yours if he’d like to get laid tonight?”
Juana giggled and disappeared.
Longarm wasn’t entirely sure if the question was a tease … or if it might actually be serious.
Crockett grinned. “Relax, Short. Juana knows how I work. Besides, it was Belinda Joy Love that sold her to me in the first place.”
The man waited for Longarm’s confusion to run full course across his features—Crockett was not disappointed in what all he might see there, Longarm was sure—then said, “Juana and her folks were part of a traveling harvest crew. Her little sister got sick and needed doctoring, which the SOB in charge of the outfit ran into a big debt. Which he discharged by selling Juana to Belinda Joy Love. Belinda Joy, bless her moss-covered heart, isn’t half bad. She knew Juana didn’t deserve any such, so she called me in on the deal. Amongst us we prosecuted that son of a bitch. He’s in the pen now making little ones outa big ones and likely cussing me, Juana, and Belinda Joy Love every morning he wakes up. Me, I took one look at Juana and fell hard. Would’ve married her right on the spot that first day I ever seen her. As it happened, though, she made me wait six whole weeks while her mama got her dress sewed and her father got sober after all the celebrating. We been a family ever since.”
“And the brother?”
