Ellis looked at one another, then back at Karl Nolly. “Who said we was
worried
about Dawson?” asked Ellis. He patted theColt on his hip. “The fact is, we plan on killing him, first chance we get. Ain’t that right Moon?”
“Sure is right,” said Moon, a grin coming across his whisker-stubbled face. “First chance we get, he’s graveyard dead.”
“Graveyard dead,” Nolly chuckled. “I admire a man with confidence.” Looking them up and down, he wondered if their confidence was founded on anything more than tough talk. “It doesn’t bother either of you, the things folks are saying about Dawson killing three men at Turkey Creek?”
“I’d have to see the
three men
before I’d be greatly impressed,” said Cleveland Ellis. “I heard one was an idiot who stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time.”
As they spoke, the two councilmen came dragging Freedman out of the saloon between them, his arms draped limply over their shoulders. Freedman moaned pitifully, his head bobbing slightly on his chest. His back was a glistening pulp of blood and tortured flesh. “Lord!” said Moon Braden, “He looks like a skinned possum!”
“I heard how things went wrong for Lematte in Hide City,” said Nolly. “He doesn’t intend to let the same thing happen here. We’re keeping this town under our thumbs.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Ellis. “Suppose we can buy ourselves a drink now that all the bullwhipping is over?”
“Not if I can help it,” said Martin Lematte, stepping out onto the boardwalk straightening his coat sleeves. He offered the two newcomers a friendly smile as he pulled out a handkerchief and blotted his sweat-beaded brow. “Your money is no good here today. Drinks are on the house.”
“Howdy, Lematte,” said Cleveland Ellis, returning Lematte’s grin. “It’s about damn time somebody bought me a drink. I was beginning to think me and Moon smelled bad.”
“Nonsense!” said Lematte, “You smell no worse than you ever did. Come on inside, take a look at our setup…I might even manage to round you up a couple of women to straighten the kinks out of your backs.”
“Moon,” said Ellis as they walked into the saloon, “I like this place already.”
PART 2
Chapter 7
Cray Dawson watched Carmelita stand up from the bed naked and not bother to pick up a robe, or a sheet, or anything else to cover herself. For some reason that bothered him. He had no idea why, since there was no one within miles and there were no secrets their bodies had held back from one another. The first two days he’d been here had been little more than blur. He recalled her washing him with a cool, wet cloth. He had glimpses of her spoonfeeding him warm broth and soup and raw eggs and goat milk until his stomach grew more acceptable to holding down solid food. He had been like a man with a terrible fever, and he could not accurately say when that fever had broken.
But in the middle of the third night, as his strength and his senses came back to him, she had slipped into the bed beside him, naked, and held him against the length of her until she felt his needs awaken and press against her warm flesh. “Rest, relax, I will be gentle,” she had whispered warmly into his ear. And so she was…
Now he watched her pad barefoot across the stone floor through the early morning shadows of the
hacienda
. When she was no longer in sight he waited fora moment, listening until he heard the slight creak of the front door closing. Then he looked out the half-raised window of the bedroom and saw her in the side yard. First he saw her through wavering panes of glass, then more clearly when he lowered his level of vision and saw her beneath the raised window edge.
Rosa
…he murmured silently to himself.
In the thin dawn light she became ghostlike, still naked but wearing his tall boots. Dawson thought of her sister as he watched her gather mesquite twigs and oak kindling and strike up a small fire in
worried
about Dawson?” asked Ellis. He patted theColt on his hip. “The fact is, we plan on killing him, first chance we get. Ain’t that right Moon?”
“Sure is right,” said Moon, a grin coming across his whisker-stubbled face. “First chance we get, he’s graveyard dead.”
“Graveyard dead,” Nolly chuckled. “I admire a man with confidence.” Looking them up and down, he wondered if their confidence was founded on anything more than tough talk. “It doesn’t bother either of you, the things folks are saying about Dawson killing three men at Turkey Creek?”
“I’d have to see the
three men
before I’d be greatly impressed,” said Cleveland Ellis. “I heard one was an idiot who stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time.”
As they spoke, the two councilmen came dragging Freedman out of the saloon between them, his arms draped limply over their shoulders. Freedman moaned pitifully, his head bobbing slightly on his chest. His back was a glistening pulp of blood and tortured flesh. “Lord!” said Moon Braden, “He looks like a skinned possum!”
“I heard how things went wrong for Lematte in Hide City,” said Nolly. “He doesn’t intend to let the same thing happen here. We’re keeping this town under our thumbs.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Ellis. “Suppose we can buy ourselves a drink now that all the bullwhipping is over?”
“Not if I can help it,” said Martin Lematte, stepping out onto the boardwalk straightening his coat sleeves. He offered the two newcomers a friendly smile as he pulled out a handkerchief and blotted his sweat-beaded brow. “Your money is no good here today. Drinks are on the house.”
“Howdy, Lematte,” said Cleveland Ellis, returning Lematte’s grin. “It’s about damn time somebody bought me a drink. I was beginning to think me and Moon smelled bad.”
“Nonsense!” said Lematte, “You smell no worse than you ever did. Come on inside, take a look at our setup…I might even manage to round you up a couple of women to straighten the kinks out of your backs.”
“Moon,” said Ellis as they walked into the saloon, “I like this place already.”
PART 2
Chapter 7
Cray Dawson watched Carmelita stand up from the bed naked and not bother to pick up a robe, or a sheet, or anything else to cover herself. For some reason that bothered him. He had no idea why, since there was no one within miles and there were no secrets their bodies had held back from one another. The first two days he’d been here had been little more than blur. He recalled her washing him with a cool, wet cloth. He had glimpses of her spoonfeeding him warm broth and soup and raw eggs and goat milk until his stomach grew more acceptable to holding down solid food. He had been like a man with a terrible fever, and he could not accurately say when that fever had broken.
But in the middle of the third night, as his strength and his senses came back to him, she had slipped into the bed beside him, naked, and held him against the length of her until she felt his needs awaken and press against her warm flesh. “Rest, relax, I will be gentle,” she had whispered warmly into his ear. And so she was…
Now he watched her pad barefoot across the stone floor through the early morning shadows of the
hacienda
. When she was no longer in sight he waited fora moment, listening until he heard the slight creak of the front door closing. Then he looked out the half-raised window of the bedroom and saw her in the side yard. First he saw her through wavering panes of glass, then more clearly when he lowered his level of vision and saw her beneath the raised window edge.
Rosa
…he murmured silently to himself.
In the thin dawn light she became ghostlike, still naked but wearing his tall boots. Dawson thought of her sister as he watched her gather mesquite twigs and oak kindling and strike up a small fire in
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