Finally, it was Roman who impatiently broke the silence.
“Of course, I could be persuaded to keep my mouth shut.”
“Oh? How?”
“Well, I’m sure for as long as you’ve been, um, in business you’ve probably put away a decent amount of money—maybe even in our bank.”
Brand did not respond.
“Okay, look, I’m gonna give you some time to think this over,” Roman said, taking his foot off the step, “but don’t take too long. I might get impatient.”
Roman hesitated, waiting to see if Brand had anything to say, and when nothing was forthcoming he turned and walked away. His back itched, even though he knew Brand was not wearing a gun.
Brand watched the lawman walk away and wondered what had happened. How had the man found out who he was? Was there really someone on the way—a lawman? a bounty hunter?—who was looking for him, or was that a lie?
Or worse, was that man already here?
He thought back to that job where he had accidentally killed the boy. Surely a poster would have been issued on him as a result of that incident.
Who, he wondered, would dare try to collect the bounty on a man with his reputation?
He knew of a lot of lawmen who would track him because it was their job, but there were only a few men he could think of who would track him for money.
The most prominent of those was a man called Decker. Brand knew the man’s reputation. He even knew what kind of gun Decker wore, and he knew about the hangman’s noose he carried on his saddle.
If Decker was here, then his world in Broadus was very close to coming apart.
Brand stood up and went into the house. Entering the bedroom he shared with Josephine, he opened a closet and reached all the way in the back on the floor. He took out something bulky that was wrapped in cloth and then slowly unwrapped it. Removing the gun from the holster, he inspected it.
It would have to be cleaned.
He always cleaned his gun just before he used it.
Josephine was surprised not to find Brand waiting for her on the porch, as he usually was. She entered the house and, not seeing him in the parlor or kitchen, went upstairs to the bedroom. She found him in front of the closet and was about to say something when she saw what was in his hand.
“Are you leaving again?” she asked, suddenly frightened.
He turned, surprised by her presence. The gun in his hand automatically pointed at her, and he abruptly turned it away.
“No, no,” he said. “I’m not leaving…”
She entered the room.
“Then why do you have your gun? You don’t usually take it out unless you’re leaving.”
“Jo—”
“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Is that it?”
“There
“If it concerns you, then it’s something for me to worry about,” she said earnestly. She put her hands on his chest and said, “Brand, I never ask you what you do when you leave, but if you’re in trouble, I want to help.”
He tucked the gun into his belt and took her hands in his. “Let’s sit down,” he said, guiding her to the bed.
“Jo,” he began, “in some parts of the country I’m considered something of…of an outlaw…”
The beer at the Dice Box was not as cold as the beer at the Broadus House, but there certainly was enough gambling to satisfy a gambling man. Decker wasn’t really a gambling man, but he enjoyed a good poker game as much as anyone.
It was getting on into evening now, and another thing the Dice Box had this time of day was women. They were young, attractive, and dressed in low—cut, sequined gowns. Decker decided to stay around for a while and then go back to the Broadus House, which was more his kind of place.
He took his beer and walked around, watching some of the gambling tables, listening to the conversations. It was possible that he might hear something helpful.
At one point one of the girls came over and leaned on his shoulder.
“Can I get you something, honey?” she asked, tracing the outline of his jaw with a long, painted nail.
She was young, very pretty and had a very deep, creamy cleavage, but she was wearing so much perfume that his head hurt and his nostrils burned.
“No, thanks,” he said. “Why don’t you check with one of the players?”
“Maybe later?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he said, promising nothing.
She sashayed off and talked to some of the men who were playing blackjack, and it looked to Decker like she was having more luck with them than she’d had with him.
He was returning to the bar for another beer when he saw Sheriff Roman walk through the batwing doors. He stood at the bar, waiting to see what the lawman was going to do. In a few seconds Roman spotted him and came over to him.
“Evening, Decker.”
“Sheriff,” the bounty hunter said. “Making your rounds?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, my rounds. Hey, Ernie, give me a beer, huh?” the sheriff said to the bartender. To Decker he said, “Interested in gambling?”
“Not really. I play a little poker now and then.”
“Some pretty women working here.”
“Sure are, but this really isn’t my kind of place.”
“Oh? What is?”
“The Broadus House. It seems a little simpler, much more my style.”
“This place usually gets most of the action.”
“That’s why I’m still here.”
“Hoping to hear something about this man you’re looking for?”
“You never know,” Decker said. “You haven’t heard anything, have you, Sheriff?”
“Me? No, not a word,” he said. “Oh, but I did hear something about you sending telegraph messages ahead to some of the other towns.”
The only way he could have heard about that was to check with the telegraph office. Why would he have done that? Decker wondered.
“What’s that all about?” Roman asked. “Trying to get the local law to do your job for you?”
“Just asking for some co-operation, is all. It could save me some time in the saddle.”
“You don’t really expect to get any help from real lawmen, do you?”
“Why not? You’ve been pretty co-operative, haven’t you?”
“Sure I have,” Roman laughed, “but I’m a helluva guy.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Does this mean you’ll be staying in Broadus a little longer?”
“At least until I get some replies.”
“I see.”
Roman finished his beer and set the empty mug down on the bar.
“Well, I’d better, uh, continue my rounds. See you around, Decker.”
“Sure, Sheriff. See you around.”
