Hard Ride to Wichita by Ralph Compton, Marcus Galloway Page A

“We’re both headed in there to see some of them fine ladies.”
    The stable man wasn’t outwardly impressed. “Fifty cents a day, then. That’s for each horse, including feed and water.”
    â€œNot charging for water?” Luke said. “How generous.”
    â€œDon’t pay no mind to my friend,” Red said as he handed over a dollar. “He’s just desperately in need of Stormy’s services.”
    â€œAin’t we all?” the older man grumbled.
    Already in high spirits, Red laughed while unbuckling his saddlebags to drape them over one shoulder. “There any places in town where I could purchase a gun?” he asked while handing over the reins.
    The stable man looked at the pistol tucked under Red’s belt, but his eyes lingered on the double-rig holster strapped around Luke’s waist. “Looks like you already got guns.”
    â€œIt’s a dangerous world out there,” Red said. “And we don’t intend to stay here for long.”
    â€œBest place would be Jordan Bickle’s store down on Westminster. The Eastern Trading Company. He gets a good supply of just about anything you might need.”
    â€œMuch obliged.” With that, Red sauntered toward the back door of Stormy’s, which was currently being held open by a curvaceous redhead in a black dress with lace trim.
    Luke took the bag from his saddle horn and then removed the ones attached to his saddle.
    â€œYou two headed to Wichita?” the stable man asked.
    Luke became still and studied the man’s dirty face carefully. “Why do you ask?”
    â€œLots of folks pass through here looking like you.”
    â€œLooking like what?”
    Obviously not concerned with his own outward appearance, the stable man replied, “Carrying guns.”
    Luke’s hand drifted toward the old Colt when his fingers brushed against one of the pistols he’d taken from Scott. The extra weight on his hip had taken some getting used to and was now second nature. Being reminded of where he’d acquired the shooting irons and what he intended to do with them still hadn’t sunk all the way in.
    â€œMen of all sorts make their way through these parts,” the stable man continued. “The cattle barons and gunmen tend to favor Wichita or Dodge City.”
    â€œI suppose they would.” After the stable man took hold of Missy’s reins, Luke started to walk away. At the back door to the main building, Red was already being sweet-talked by the woman who’d come out to greet them. Luke was about to head that way as well when he stopped and turned back around. “You said lots of gunmen come through here?” he asked.
    â€œThey do.”
    â€œYou ever heard of a man named Granger?”
    The stable man pulled in a breath and looked up as if the memories he was looking for would be drifting among the clouds that wandered above him in the pale blue sky above him. “Name does strike a chord. He a friend of yours?”
    As much as it pained him to say it, Luke replied, “Yeah. I’ve been hoping to catch up with him.”
    â€œI believe he may have passed through this way, but it was some time ago.”
    â€œHow long?”
    Once again, the stable man’s eyes wandered. Instead of the sky, he gazed over toward the backside of the closest neighboring shop to Stormy’s. “I’d say at least three months or so. Maybe longer.”
    â€œWhat did he look like?”
    â€œAin’t he your friend?”
    â€œSure he is,” Luke replied with a smirk. “But it’s been a while. A man grows a beard, maybe gets his hair cut real short, he looks different. If I know how he’s keeping himself nowadays, it’ll help me ask around once I reach Wichita.”
    The stable man seemed suspicious, but that didn’t keep him from saying, “I suppose I could recall his features and such. A favor like that