And I’d not have believed that anyone could whip him … except maybe his own brother.”
“Buck was half drunk,” Longarm said, voicing his own thoughts on the matter. “If he’d have been completely sober, it would have been a lot rougher. Buck’s reactions were shot and his punches slow and wide. if he’d have been sober, I think I’d have had no choice but to go for my gun instead of giving him a whipping.”
“Like he gave to that cowboy named Arnie.”
“Yeah,” Longarm said, deciding that he had better return to the hotel and a very worried Diana Frank. “So long, Terrence. Thanks for the fine whiskey.”
“Anytime you’re passing through, the drinks are free in your case,” Terrence said. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m on my way to getting looped either. I mean it! As long as I own this place, if you come here, you drink free.”
Longarm smiled, but then winced with pain. “That guy sure had a punch,” he said.
“Watch out for him, Marshal. Buck will be coming after you as soon as he sobers up and can stand to ride a horse.”
Longarm supposed that was true as he walked back to the hotel and rejoined Diana, who had been soaking in a hot tub of bathwater but was now standing naked and dripping before him.
“Darling! I thought you might be dead by now! Oh,” she cried, “look what happened to your poor, battered face!”
“It’s all right,” Longarm said, glancing over the tub. I’m just a little sore and a little drunk. Help me get undressed and into that tub to soak.”
Diana helped him and then, when his chin began to dip and he started to fall asleep in the bath, she pulled him out, dried him off, and put him to bed, where he slept like the dead until ten o’clock the following morning.
Chapter 13
Since leaving Whiskey Creek on the run almost two weeks earlier, Rolf Swensen wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen from one day to the next. Nathan hadn’t recovered from his pistol-whipping, and although it was clear that he would survive, Rolf’s new friend remained dazed and disoriented. It was a frightening thing to see Nathan suffer so, and Rolf didn’t know what to do to help him. Carole and Teresa helped take care of Nathan, but neither of them knew where they were going or for what purpose save covering enough ground so that a Zolliver didn’t overtake and kill them all.
“Poor Nathan needs to see a good brain specialist,” Carole kept repeating. “A real doctor who can tell us what has happened to his mind.”
“It got scrambled,” Teresa said. “You said that Clyde pistol-whipped him real hard. Clyde was awful strong. I think Nathan’s mind was scrambled like an egg.”
“Don’t say that!” Carole protested. “Nathan will be all right. He just needs some time. He’s getting better and better every day.”
“No, he’s not,” Teresa argued. “His color is good, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m not even sure that he thinks anything.”
“Of course he does!” Carole cried. “He’s just … just confused.”
And so the pair would argue, leaving poor Rolf to wonder who was right and what was going to become of them. He had found the United States mint’s property in Nathan’s packs and was shocked to realize that his best friend was a counterfeiter and a thief, one who was probably being hunted by lawmen all over the country. Rolf had also found thousands of dollars worth of cash, mostly in hundred-dollar bills. Rolf had no doubt in his mind that they were counterfeit, although it was obvious that his friend had taken some pains to make them appear old and hard used.
As yet, Rolf had not told either of the women about his discovery. He was hoping that Nathan’s mind would clear and that his friend would take charge again and make those kinds of decisions.
“What’s the name of that little settlement up ahead?” Carole asked from the back of the buckboard, where she chose to ride beside Nathan in case he suddenly became alert and needed to speak to someone.
“I don’t know,” Rolf said. “But we must be in Arizona by now, since we already crossed the Colorado River.”
“How much did you have to pay that ferryman anyway?” Teresa asked. “He wanted a lot of money.”
“It turned out he didn’t really want that much,” Rolf said vaguely. “Not considering all these horses and the buckboard and the swiftness of the river.”
“I thought we were going to overturn for sure,” Teresa said, shaking her head as if to rid it of the memory. “I don’t mind telling you that I was terrified.”
“Me too,” Rolf admitted. “But we made it, and that’s all that matters.”
“That and Nathan getting well,” Carole said.
“Of course,” Rolf said.
Rolf was driving and Teresa was sitting beside him on the buckboard seat. The Thoroughbreds were shuffling along behind, and had grown so used to the road that Rolf didn’t even bother to tie them to the wagon anymore. They just followed, partly because of the sacks of oats resting in the wagon but also because they seemed to realize that they were ill suited to survive on their own in this rugged, high-desert country. At night Rolf kept them picketed when they were camping on the trail, and he always checked their feet for stones and fed each one their grain separately. They had become as tame as little dogs, and Rolf had grown enormously fond of each animal.
“Looks like a mining town,” Teresa said. “Maybe we’d be better off to circle around it. They can be pretty rough.”
“I would, except that we’re almost out of food and running low on grain,” Rolf told her. “Besides, maybe they have a real doctor that could examine Nathan.”
