“You don’t give up, do you? It’s Tull’s horse and my revolver, or it’s nothing. Which will it be?”
“You don’t leave me much choice.”
“I don’t leave you none.”
Fargo was a bit surprised that Sten hadn’t tried to blow out his wick. Now that Sten had learned the truth about Tull, or thought he had, there was no reason for Sten to keep him alive. Fargo figured Mary must have something to do with it; Cud was trying to impress her by not killing him.
The dealer began shuffling the cards.
“Deal me in,” Fargo said, and jerked a thumb at where Rika still stood over in the corner. “How about your friend? Does he want to join us?”
“What the hell do you care? He does what he wants. Unlike these other lunkheads, I can always count on him to do what’s best.”
Lear glared at Fargo. “I don’t like this varmint much. I get the notion he’s a tricky son of a bitch.”
From over at the stove Mary said, “Mr. Lear, your language, please.”
“Oh, hell.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Lear switched his glare to Cud Sten. “How much longer do we have to put up with her? This ain’t a church social, for God’s sake.”
“You’ll treat her nice and like it,” Cud said flatly, and placed his hand on his club.
“Oh, hell,” Lear said again.
Fargo considered the cards he was dealt. “I have an idea,” he announced.
“Not another one,” Cud said.
“How about if we play a hand with my horse and rifle as the stake? I win, I get them back.”
“Mister, you plumb amaze me. When you gnaw on a bone, you don’t let up. What makes you think I’d gamble for them when we already have them?”
Fargo decided to put his immunity to the test. “I just thought you might want to show Mrs. Harper that you’re not as big a bastard as everyone says you are.”
Everyone at the table froze.
That included Cud Sten. His face resembled stone. But then, ever so slowly, his features shifted until they mirrored pure, vicious hate. “No one talks to me like that.”
Mary picked that moment to come over carrying the coffeepot and several cups. “I don’t have enough for everyone, so you’ll have to use some of your own.” She set a cup next to Cud and began filling it.
Sten was struggling to control himself. His face twitched, his mouth worked, and his jaw muscles bulged.
“Cat got your tongue?” Mary asked.
“No, ma’am,” Cud said harshly. “It’s him. You didn’t hear what he just said to me.”
“Oh, I heard,” Mary said sweetly. “I’ve heard everything. And I’m appalled, Mr. Sten. You steal from him and act like you’re doing him a favor. Here I thought you were trying to show me how much of a gentleman you could be.”
Cud’s eyes were twin daggers. “You can’t expect me not to be me. It doesn’t work like that.”
“All I know is that I couldn’t like a man who lords it over other folks. I’m disappointed. Here we were starting to be friends, too.” Mary turned and placed a cup in front of Fargo and began pouring.
Cud Sten’s whole body seemed to swell with rage but gradually the fury drained away and a cold smile replaced his bloodlust. “I don’t want you thinking poorly of me, gal. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll gamble for them like he wants. How would that be?”
“You would do that? For me?”
Cud was like a puppy that had been patted on the head. “All I care about is pleasing you.”
“See? You can be nice when you try.” Mary set the pot down. “Help yourselves. I have to finish supper.”
Cud watched her, and when she was over at the counter, he leaned toward Fargo and said so she couldn’t hear, “Your horse and rifle ain’t all you’re playing for, you rotten son of a btich.” Sitting back, he smiled and said, “Now, then, how many cards do you want?”
Fargo had two kings, two twos, and a ten. Another king or another two and he would have a full house. The odds were high against drawing either, but even if he didn’t, he’d still have two pair. He discarded the ten. “I’ll take one.”
“I’ll stick with these.” Cud dealt a card from the top of the deck and slid it across.
Covering it with his hand, Fargo peeked. It was a queen. Of no use to him whatsoever.
“What do you have?” Fargo flipped his cards over. “Two pair, kings and twos.”
“Ain’t that a shame.” Cud Sten slowly turned his cards over. “I’ve got me a straight. You lose, mister. You lose big.”
14
“You have to escape. He’s going to kill you,” Mary whispered to Fargo when she brought his plate.
He was seated by the fireplace, his back to the wall, his knees drawn to his chest. “I know.”
Cud Sten kept staring over at him, always with the same cold grin, a cat playing with a mouse.
“Why did you bait him like that?” Mary whispered. “If you’d kept quiet, maybe he would have let you live.”
“Who’s fooling who?” Fargo never doubted for a moment that Sten intended to turn him into maggot bait.
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing.” Fargo didn’t want her to be part of it. He didn’t want her hurt. Cud Sten might easily turn on her if she got him mad enough.
Mary straightened. Her eyes were moist and she had to swallow to say, “I can’t just stand by and let that beast murder you. Not after we—” She couldn’t finish.
“It’s not just me you have to think of,” Fargo reminded her.
“We’re in this together. They want to help, too.”
From the table came an angry bellow. “What are you two whispering about over there? Mary, gal, you shouldn’t have anything to do with him. I don’t like him much.”
Mary wheeled. “I”ll choose my own friends, Mr. Sten, thank you very much.”
The vehemence in her voice made Cud sit up. “Now, now, don’t get all female on me.”
Fargo marveled at Mary’s self-control. Her spine ramrod stiff, she marched to the stove and put two plates on a tray. “I’m taking these to Nelly and Jayce.”
“They’re welcome to join us at the table,” Cud said. “I like your sprouts. That girl of yours is almost as pretty as you.”
Mary glanced at Sten and Fargo saw a new fear creep into her eyes. But she smothered it, crossed to their bedroom, knocked, and went in.
No sooner did the door close behind her than Cud Sten was out of his chair, his club in his right hand. The others rose, too, their hands on their hardware. Over in the corner, Rika raised the Henry to his shoulder.
About to cut a piece of steak, Fargo grinned. “Looks like I won, after all.”
Halfway to the hearth, Cud stopped in puzzlement. “Won what?”
“I bet myself you couldn’t wait until she goes to bed to do it. You and her boy are about the same age.”
“Are you loco? I’m a grown man.” Cud wagged his club. “On your feet. You’re going to the outhouse.”
“I am?”
Cud took another step. “Don’t make me do it here. She won’t like having your brains smeared all over her floor.”
“Easy, now,” Fargo said, rising. He would wait until they got him outside. It was safer for the Harpers that way.
Keeping his voice low, Cud turned to Lear. “You and Charlie take him out. Tie him and gag him and stick him in the woodshed.”
