The problem was, Kate was growing on him,like a flower blooming in the spring. The longer it bloomed, theprettier it got. He'd never met a woman that could twist his gutinto. And never knew a woman like her that could kiss so well.She'd shocked him that day with her sweet kiss. God, that kiss madehim want things. Things he figured a long time ago he'd never have.Never met a woman he just wanted to be around all the time. Justthe mere touch of her soft cheek filled him. She was a good woman,a hard worker, and a great cook but the urge to touch his lips tohers was growing stronger every day. That's why he needed this tripinto town. At least, that's what he told himself.
He parked the wagon at the end of the streetand walked to the saloon.
The smell of rot gut whiskey assailed him. Apoker game was going on, smoke curled in the air, and the dancehallgirls were milling around the bar with the two customers that weredrinking heavily.
One girl sidled up to him fast. She waslovely, with black flowing hair, and big dark eyes that stared intohis. "What will you have mister?" she purred at his ear.
"Just a beer, it's too early for anythingelse."
Then another girl ambled up to him, "Wes,haven't seen you in here in a while. What have you been up to?" shecurled her arm into his.
"Work. And lots of it."
"Sounds like you need a little rest andrelaxation, honey."
But he knew he'd made a mistake the minutehe came in here. This wasn't where he wanted to be. Funny, but formoney these girls would do anything for him. Still it held nochallenge for him. He knew the difference in love and lust and onenight with these girls would be nothing but lust. He suddenly knewhe wanted more than that.
"Actually, just want to drink my beer, playa bit of poker and then I got a friend to visit."
The girls backed off. He could tell theywere shocked that he didn't take their invitation seriously.
Wes got his beer and ambled over to thepoker table. Three men were playing, two of which he knew fromanother time, another game. The other one appeared to be atraveling peddler of some kind as he had a knapsack of pots andpans by his chair. Thoughts of him playing poker with Kate ranthrough his mind. He couldn't shake her even though he tried, shewas in his mind and messing with him.
He sat down to play and after he won twogames he got up and left. That wasn't where he wanted to be, and heknew it. Why had he come here? He realized that somewhere down theline, he'd outgrown the saloons of late.
He'd go talk to Dickens a while.
He fussed at himself all the way out toDickens place.
But the minute he pulled up into the yard heheard the quiet and knew again something was wrong. He glanced overin the pen and saw three dead hogs and the others were making allkinds of noise. Blood was everywhere. He saw the barn doorswinging. He saw the front door to the house was open.
He got down quickly and ran up on the porch."Dickens, you home?"
There was no answer.
He pulled his gun, something was wrong. Hewent inside and nothing looked amiss. Then he headed for the barn.He approached it carefully. He peeked his head inside, it was morethan a little quiet except for a swinging stall gate.
He called out, "Dickens, you in here?"
There was no answer. He walked around theoutside of the barn first, nothing was a miss there either.
He went back to the door and walked inside."Dickens," he hollered a little louder.
Then he heard some kind of muffledsound.
He ran toward the sound, and there he sawit, Bubba was laying across the stall, his eyes unseeing. Wesreached down to check to see if he was breathing. He wasn't. Bubbawas dead. The sound had come from the horses, they smelleddeath.
Dear God, the cat! Just from the looks ofBubba, Wes knew it was the cat again.
He swallowed hard. Where was Dickens.
Realizing that Dickens might be dead too,his heart began to hammer wildly. Where was the old man?
He started walking about the place, maybehe'd gone after the cat himself. Wes felt his heart race, worryingabout the old man.
He walked all over the property, finally,along the fence line he saw him. It was Dickens. He ran and stoopeddown to check him.
"I ain't dead yet," Dickens cried out athim. "Damn cat, killed Bubba, and three of my hogs…. " Dickens wassaying as tears ran down his cheek. "I heard the ruckus and went tofind them, he got the hogs first, then I saw the barn doorflappin'. I went inside, about that time the cat came out,screeching and running. But I heard Bubba and I went to see if Icould help. He died right there in my arms. I liked that boy. Iliked him a lot."
"You need a doctor. Let's get you to thedocs." Wes cried.
Wes picked him up and carried him that'swhen he saw the huge claw marks on Dickens chest.
He didn't want to think about it too much.The old man was doing good to help him get to the wagon. Wes drovelike crazy to get to the docs. When he got there, he holleredoutside for the doc. The doc opened his door.
"What's wrong?" The doc asked as he driedhis hands on a towel.
"Dickens, he's been hurt bad from theCougar."
"Let's get him inside," the doc didn'thesitate to help him.
An hour later he came out of the room wherehe treated Dickens. He wiped his hands on a towel and sat down totalk to Wes.
"How is he doc?"
"I sewed him up, the best I could,disinfected the wounds. The one on his chest is pretty bad. Whathappened?"
"Not sure doc. When I got over there,
