between the tables holding plates of steaming food aloft to clear the heads of her patrons.
“Don’t be shy,” she said, catching the marshal’s eye. “Find yourself a seat anywhere and I’ll fetch you some coffee soon as I set these down.”
Drummond took a seat at a narrow, empty table near the fire in the hope that no one would join him. He preferred to eat alone, quickly and without conversation, and be on his way, although he didn’t actually know which way that was. If Trask had stopped for breakfast before leaving town, maybe Bertha had seen which way he’d headed.
He was still thinking that thought when a mug of coffee was placed in front of him along with a chipped plate that contained two sourdough biscuits and a large spiral bun, redolent of sugar and cinnamon and trimmed with a loop of vanilla icing. His stomach grumbled loudly.
“New in town,” Bertha said, taking stock of him. “Eggs and ham work for you?”
“Sure does, ma’am,” he replied. “As for the other, I’m just traveling through.”
“I’ll have you back on the trail quick as a wick on a fastburning candle.”
True to her word, Bertha was back with his breakfast as he was polishing off the bun. He couldn’t remember ever having tasted anything quite so fine. If he didn’t have a man to catch he might have asked for another, but as it was he was feeling guilty for having enjoyed such a treat when little Betsy Jensen would never eat another meal.
Drummond wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, since Bertha hadn’t supplied him with any linen for that purpose. “I’m lookin’ for a man by the name of Trask,” he said when she came to refill his coffee mug. “Any chance you know which way he headed when he left town?”
Bertha’s brows lowered over her eyes and her mouth contracted into a tight line that cinched in her round face like a tailor’s thread. “So long as he was leavin’, I was right happy with the situation,” she said, looking at the marshal from a grim, new perspective. “I wouldn’t figure the two of you for knowin’ one another.”
“Well, ma’am, the truth is I intend to hunt him down and bring him to justice.” He wasn’t sure why he’d admitted that, why in fact he’d felt the need to be less harshly judged by this woman whom he was not likely to see again.
Bertha’s face relaxed. “Then I’ll be pleased to tell you I heard him jawin’ with one of them prospector fellas sittin’ near him. Wanted to know how many days’ ride to Albuquerque. Bein’ of a curious nature, I looked out the door when he left and saw him headin’ in that very direction. I’ll be wishin’ you Godspeed on your journey.”
Drummond finished his coffee, and as he pushed back from the table Bertha appeared at his side holding a bundle wrapped in an old piece of checkerboard cloth. “I daresay this won’t last you for too long, but it’ll sure sweeten the road for a time.”
The marshal didn’t have to ask what was in the parcel; the aroma gave it away, making his mouth water even though his stomach was already full to brimming.
“On the house,” Bertha said when he tried to pay her for the additional food. “I make more than enough on the lard heads who eat here every day.”
When Drummond emerged from Bertha’s his heart lay a mite lighter in his chest now that he knew where Trask was headed. In his youth he’d explored large portions of New Mexico, and he knew that a man on horseback would do best to keep to the flatlands until he reached Las Cruces, where he could replenish his supplies before turning north to Albuquerque. The marshal reached into his vest pocket, withdrew the tin star he’d hidden there before riding into Goose Flats and pinned it back on his chest. Where he was headed it would serve him better to be known as a lawman. Then he mounted the chestnut and headed east where the sun was climbing into the sky on a ladder of clouds.
Chapter 10
“H ow did it go?” Zeke
“Don’t be shy,” she said, catching the marshal’s eye. “Find yourself a seat anywhere and I’ll fetch you some coffee soon as I set these down.”
Drummond took a seat at a narrow, empty table near the fire in the hope that no one would join him. He preferred to eat alone, quickly and without conversation, and be on his way, although he didn’t actually know which way that was. If Trask had stopped for breakfast before leaving town, maybe Bertha had seen which way he’d headed.
He was still thinking that thought when a mug of coffee was placed in front of him along with a chipped plate that contained two sourdough biscuits and a large spiral bun, redolent of sugar and cinnamon and trimmed with a loop of vanilla icing. His stomach grumbled loudly.
“New in town,” Bertha said, taking stock of him. “Eggs and ham work for you?”
“Sure does, ma’am,” he replied. “As for the other, I’m just traveling through.”
“I’ll have you back on the trail quick as a wick on a fastburning candle.”
True to her word, Bertha was back with his breakfast as he was polishing off the bun. He couldn’t remember ever having tasted anything quite so fine. If he didn’t have a man to catch he might have asked for another, but as it was he was feeling guilty for having enjoyed such a treat when little Betsy Jensen would never eat another meal.
Drummond wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, since Bertha hadn’t supplied him with any linen for that purpose. “I’m lookin’ for a man by the name of Trask,” he said when she came to refill his coffee mug. “Any chance you know which way he headed when he left town?”
Bertha’s brows lowered over her eyes and her mouth contracted into a tight line that cinched in her round face like a tailor’s thread. “So long as he was leavin’, I was right happy with the situation,” she said, looking at the marshal from a grim, new perspective. “I wouldn’t figure the two of you for knowin’ one another.”
“Well, ma’am, the truth is I intend to hunt him down and bring him to justice.” He wasn’t sure why he’d admitted that, why in fact he’d felt the need to be less harshly judged by this woman whom he was not likely to see again.
Bertha’s face relaxed. “Then I’ll be pleased to tell you I heard him jawin’ with one of them prospector fellas sittin’ near him. Wanted to know how many days’ ride to Albuquerque. Bein’ of a curious nature, I looked out the door when he left and saw him headin’ in that very direction. I’ll be wishin’ you Godspeed on your journey.”
Drummond finished his coffee, and as he pushed back from the table Bertha appeared at his side holding a bundle wrapped in an old piece of checkerboard cloth. “I daresay this won’t last you for too long, but it’ll sure sweeten the road for a time.”
The marshal didn’t have to ask what was in the parcel; the aroma gave it away, making his mouth water even though his stomach was already full to brimming.
“On the house,” Bertha said when he tried to pay her for the additional food. “I make more than enough on the lard heads who eat here every day.”
When Drummond emerged from Bertha’s his heart lay a mite lighter in his chest now that he knew where Trask was headed. In his youth he’d explored large portions of New Mexico, and he knew that a man on horseback would do best to keep to the flatlands until he reached Las Cruces, where he could replenish his supplies before turning north to Albuquerque. The marshal reached into his vest pocket, withdrew the tin star he’d hidden there before riding into Goose Flats and pinned it back on his chest. Where he was headed it would serve him better to be known as a lawman. Then he mounted the chestnut and headed east where the sun was climbing into the sky on a ladder of clouds.
Chapter 10
“H ow did it go?” Zeke
Similar Books
