Longarm stiffened and said, “If you weren’t a lawman, I might be inclined to kill you for saying that, Ivan. But I’m going to let it pass this time. I told you the truth. Olliver knew I was a U.S. marshal. He sounded like he was in a bad fix and he wanted to talk to me in private. That’s as much as I can tell you.”
“He should have come to me, damn his eyes!” Kane kicked the water trough so hard it spilled over. “He should have come to me!”
“Maybe so,” Longarm said. “But he didn’t.”
“And it cost the fool his life.”
Longarm took a deep breath. His head was beginning to throb like a Kiowa drum.
“I’m going back to my room and get some rest,” he told Kane. “That is, if you have no more questions.”
“I do have more questions,” Kane snapped angrily. “But they can wait until morning. Be at my office by nine o’clock.”
Longarm didn’t say another word as he shuffled back up the street toward the U.S. Hotel. He felt dazed, weak, and thoroughly confused by this tragic turn of events. When he came to Henry Olliver’s body, he knelt beside the corpse and saw that the man had been shot twice, both times in the back. Olliver had skidded on his belly across the dirt, and now he lay with bulging eyes staring into the dirt.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” Longarm muttered before he plodded on toward the hotel and the comfort of Megan Riley’s arms.
Chapter 9
Longarm dragged himself out of bed the next morning and staggered over to the mirror. “I look like I’ve been pulled sideways through a knothole, Megan.”
“Getting shot and making love all night will do that to a man when he gets a little age on him,” Megan said, looking devilishly happy for such an early hour. “Are you going to take me to breakfast before you go see Marshal Kane?”
“Sure,” Longarm said. “After last night, this poor old body could definitely use some replenishing.”
“It won’t take me long,” Megan said, jumping out of bed and grabbing her pants.
Longarm, despite his aches and pains, had to grin. Megan was like a schoolgirl, and Longarm knew that he was her first real beau. Flushed from a night of lovemaking and filled with innocence and wonder at the pleasure that a man and a woman could bring each other, Megan was a joy to watch.
“I hope you have some money,” she said, “because I’m famished. I want a steak, some fried potatoes, eggs, and lots of coffee and maybe even a slice of pie for dessert.”
“You’re going to be expensive to keep if you eat every meal like that,” he said as he slowly dressed. “And what are you going to do while I’m trying to get to the bottom of Bodie’s can of worms?”
“I’m going to go to Stuart Kirkwood’s and look at some horses and saddles,” she informed him. “Maybe I can find some bargains to buy and then resell in Reno.”
“You’re a horse trader, huh?”
“I generally do pretty well,” Megan said, hitching up her pants and buckling her belt around her narrow waist. “You see, at first men tend to think of me as helpless and naive. Then, after I begin to dicker with them on a horse or piece of tack, they often get mad and think I’ve no business knowing as much as I do about horses and saddles. They’ll generally try to dazzle me with their knowledge, and so I just listen and nod my head.”
“And play dumb?”
“For a while,” Megan said. “For as long as I can stand it while they blow off steam. Sooner or later, though, I just get fed up with their bullshit and lay things on the line. I tell ‘em everything that is wrong with their horses and saddles. That really puts their noses out of joint.”
“Hell of a way to get on their good side,” Longarm said dryly.
“Well,” Megan said, “I’m not finished. You see, after I sort of pick their property apart, then I say something nice about the horse or the saddle. That throws them off balance, and that’s when I hit ‘em with an offer.”
“A damned low offer, I’ll bet.”
“Yes, but they’ll almost always take it and then tell their friends how they slickered a damned woman.”
“And do they sometimes?”
Megan shrugged. “I’ve never bought a lame horse that some crook has managed to sneak by me as sound. And I’ve bought quite a few that were thought to be hopeless cases either because of unsoundness or bad habits that made them very undesirable or even dangerous.”
“And I suppose you have your ‘special’ ways of breaking and training outlaws?”
“Of course,” Megan said, unable to mask her pride.
“Basically, I spend more time with problem horses than anyone else has been willing to devote. If the animal has leg problems, I wrap the tendons and joints and use balms and even blisters. If the animal has bad feet, I keep them clean and medicated. If he has worms or has been foundered or-“
“I get the idea,” Longarm said, cutting her off. “And I suppose, if we’re talking saddles, you just replace the worn or rotten leather and redo the stitching, that sort of thing.”
“Exactly.” Megan pulled on her shirt and buttoned it to the neck. “You wouldn’t believe some of the old saddles that I’ve restored to better than new.”
“Yes, I would,” Longarm said, touching the wound at his temple to make sure that Megan’s bandage was still in place. “Are you ready to go?”
“Almost,” she said, reaching for her boots.
