“He sounds like a bad one,” Longarm said grimly.
“He is! I had some friends with enough guts to pull him off of me, but they say he stomped my leg as he was being hauled off my poor, quiverin’ body. They say he was screamin’ like a man gone crazy. I know he’d have killed me in a few more minutes. I never been hit so damned hard in my life!”
“Is he still in the town of Redcliff?”
“Hell,” the cowboy said between still puffy lips, “I don’t know! Janice took me in and nursed me awhile. She’s a whore, but she has a good heart and I always liked her a lot. I guess I stayed with her about a week before she gave me some money and told me to ride out and find some other friends.”
“And that’s why you’re headed for Cheyenne?” Diana asked.
“Yep. I got some people that will winter me up and I hope to be fit enough to cowboy next spring. I don’t know though. I suspect I’ll never be patched up enough to bust broncs again. Everyone says I’m lucky just to be alive.”
“Maybe you are,” Longarm said, thinking that it had been a long time since he’d seen anyone so badly beaten.
“But I’d like to kill Buck,” Arnie growled. “Why, wouldn’t you if some giant sonofabitch beat you and then tried to kill you with his bare hands?”
“Yeah,” Longarm admitted, “I suppose I would.”
“I been whipped bad and I’ve won my share of fights,” Arnie said with a sad shake of his head. “But I never been beaten like that. When I woke up in Janice’s little room, first thing I tried to do was climb to my feet, get a gun, and go huntin’ for Buck Zolliver. I’d kill him in a minute if I got him in my sights.”
“Why didn’t you go looking for him?” Longarm asked.
“He’d left town early the next morning. Everyone said he rode over to Whiskey Creek. I heard that he was looking for his kid brother, Clyde. Clyde is said to be even meaner and tougher than Buck, but I don’t believe that. Buck could whip any man alive, but someone will put a bullet in him one of these days. You don’t fight a man like Buck Zolliver with your hands. You go at him with a gun, or a singletree or, if you feel brave, a damn big club!”
Arnie swallowed. “I want to find Buck and settle the score, but I’m not much good with a gun and I heard that he’s real good. So Janice made me promise just to go to Cheyenne. But she didn’t know that’s where Buck and his accursed family is from. I expect that I’ll meet up with Buck this winter or next spring and that I’ll shoot him on sight.”
“That could get you hanged,” Longarm said.
“Maybe,” Arnie said, “but after someone does what Buck Zolliver did to Janice and me … well, it’d be about worth it.”
Longarm leaned on his saddle horn. “Did you ever hear of a man named Nathan Cox?”
“No,” Arnie said. “What’s he look like?”
Longarm provided a description, but Arnie just shook his head. “I’d have remembered him and those Thoroughbred horses. I’m awful mindful of horses. I forget faces, but not horses, and I’d have remembered if he’d come to Redcliff.”
“Thanks,” Longarm said, lifting his reins. “I sure hope that you get mended.”
“Oh, I will,” Arnie promised. “You going to Redcliff, or to Whiskey Creek?”
“Whiskey Creek.”
“It can’t be more than two, maybe three hours up ahead. Just keep to the right when the road forks.”
“Thanks.”
Arnie started to lift his reins, but then he said, “Mister, you and the lady might even hear a song about me someday if I get hanged for gunning Buck Zolliver down.”
“I hope not,” Longarm said.
Arnie wiped a battered hand across his eyes. He looked ready to topple off his horse into the mud. “Mister,” he asked, “why are you so curious about Buck and this Nathan Cox?”
“I got my reasons,” Longarm said, touching his heels to the flanks of his horse. “So long, Arnie. Just forget about Buck Zolliver and find a good cowboying job next spring.”
“Well,” Arnie said, looking sick and depressed, “I can’t rest until I settle my score.”
“Maybe,” Longarm said as he rode away, “I’ll have to do it for you.”
“You mean that!” Arnie managed a lopsided grin.
“Maybe,” Longarm called back as he and Diana put their horses into a ground-eating trot down the muddy road toward Whiskey Creek.
When they reached that mountain settlement, Longarm rode down the center of the street and made sure that there wasn’t a marshal’s office to visit first.
“This town looks rough as a cob,” Longarm said as hard faces stared out through saloon and poor-looking little business doorways.
“Nice enough looking hotel though,” Diana said, pointing toward the Paradise. “Can we stay there, Custis? I really need a bath and a soft, dry bed.”
Longarm needed them too, but he said, “Diana, you told me just a couple of nights ago that you were satisfied in any bed that we shared.”
She stared at him. “I actually said something that stupid?”
