“That’s the idea,” Longarm told the man. “Don’t wake me for at least three hours.”
“Enjoy your nap!” Ford Oakley called from his cell. “Soon, you’ll be rotting in Hell and you can sleep forever.”
Longarm raised his hat and gazed at the man. “It sure is going to be a pleasure to see you swing from a noose in Denver.”
“That’ll be the day!”
Longarm dropped his hat back down over his eyes and relaxed. He knew that he was getting himself into a tough deal, but he didn’t see that there was any choice in the matter. Might as well turn his mind to pleasant things, like Sophie Flanigan and the time they’d had making love together last night.
What a woman! Just thinking about her caused a stirring of arousal in Longarm. If this wasn’t going to be such a crowded and a dangerous trip, Longarm thought he might even have invited Sophie to join him on what was apparently going to be a long road to Elko.
Chapter 5
Longarm awoke from his nap about sundown and glanced over to see Deputy Trout staring daggers at him.
“Deputy, if you’ve got something to say, spit it out,” Longarm ordered. “And if I’m not going to be able to trust my back to you, then you’re staying here in Gold Mountain. I’m going to have my hands full watching Oakley. I damn sure don’t need you as an extra worry.”
Trout leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head. “I’m coming with you all the way over the Ruby Mountains to Denver. I want to make sure I collect that reward. Abe and I have talked it all out and that’s part of the deal.”
“You’re both a couple of fools!” Oakley called from his cot in the cell. “Ruby Mountains, shit! I’ve got friends and they won’t be fooled!”
“Sure they will,” Longarm replied. “I’d bet a month’s pay that they’re camped beside the road the stage uses this very minute. And by the time they realize we’ve spirited you out of Gold Mountain and circled around and over the Ruby Mountains, it will be too late.”
“In a pig’s eye!” Oakley called. “My friends know this country like the back of their hand.”
Oakley came to his feet and walked over to the bars. He gripped them in his big fists and said, “Besides, I don’t need any help. I’ll figure a way to get the drop on you two fools and kill you both all by myself.”
“You got us both shaking to death,” Trout blustered. “Ford, you’re going to the gallows.”
“We’ll see,” the outlaw replied. “The fact of the matter is, I think you’re going to play Hell just getting me out of this cell. The minute you boys step inside, I’m going to kick both your asses.”
Trout was young but he wasn’t all stupid. Ford Oakley was big, tough, and strong. He wasn’t the kind of man you wanted to meet in a dark alley or in the tight confines of a jail cell. Looking at Longarm, Trout said, “What are we going to do about getting him handcuffed and out to the medicine wagon?”
“We’ll figure out something.” Longarm strolled over to the window and yawned. “It’s about dark enough to get this show going. Where is Marshal Wheeler?”
“He’s at home for supper. The marshal decided everything here would go smoother if he just stayed out of the way until tomorrow.”
“How convenient for him,” Longarm drawled. “Did he get that wagon and the four horses hitched, the supplies loaded, and everything brought up behind the jail?”
“I did it mostly. I even put a couple of shotguns and rifles in the wagon, just in case we have to fight off that big sonofabitch’s friends in the Ruby Mountains.”
“Good idea,” Longarm said. “And what about supplies for us and the horses?”
“Couple hundred pounds of oats in the wagon,” Trout replied. “I also got plenty of eats for us as well. Everything is taken care of.”
Oakley rattled his bars and snorted with derision. “I doubt everything has been taken care of.”
“What do you mean?” Trout asked.
“Well,” Oakley said with a tight smile, “have you fellas made out your last will and testimonies yet? Or talked to the undertaker and told him what you wanted carved into your tombstones?”
Trout charged over to the cell, leaned close, and said, “You rotten, murdering sonofabitch! I’ve had to listen to you for too damn long!”
Oakley yawned with contempt. “You’re not even worth talkin’to, kid. It’s your big friend that is going to give me a bit of a challenge. I can see that clear enough. But you … well, Deputy Rick Trout, my old lady could have whipped your ass with one hand tied behind her back.”
The young deputy grabbed the bars and shook them in fury.
Longarm called, “Just let it ride! He’s baiting you and hoping you’ll do something foolish.”
But Trout was too mad to listen. His hand dropped to his gun, and it came up smooth and lightning fast. He cocked the weapon and pointed it through the bars. “Ford,” he grated, “I might just shoot you right now! That will forever shut your big mouth!”
Oakley looked over at Longarm and said, as casual as anything, “You gonna let this young hotheaded fool murder your prisoner, Marshal?”
“Leave him alone,” Longarm ordered the deputy, “And put that damn gun away before I feed it to you.”
Trout whirled on Longarm and started to say something, but at that very moment Oakley shoved both of his long, muscular arms through the bars. One forearm looped around the deputy’s neck to choke and pin him helplessly against the cell while the prisoner’s other hand stabbed for the deputy’s six-gun.
