Free Three-Ten to Yuma and Other Stories by Elmore Leonard

troubles.
    Virginia moved over to the stove and lighted the fire under the coffeepot. She said to him, “Are you hungry, Dave?”
    He shook his head. “Not very.” And I’ve got to worry about Ginny on top of all of it. And then he thought: or, are you feeling sorry for yourself?
    â€œAre you?” Her head nodded to the man on the cot.
    â€œI don’t think I’d hold it.”
    Boland asked him now, “When were you shot, Red?”
    â€œYesterday, in Clovis. Somebody musta recognized me and told the marshal. He hit me by surprise.”
    â€œRight after you killed this man?”
    â€œHell, that was months ago in Dodge. We been hiding since. Went into Clovis yesterday for grub and somebody seen us.” He was breathing easier and went on, “We lost them last night. Damn marshal hit me by surprise—”
    Boland said, “I suppose you were drunk in Dodge.”
    Red grinned sheepishly. “Fact is, I don’t even remember shootin’ the man.”
    â€œBut Jeffy told you you did.”
    â€œYeah, Jeffy said I was actin’ mean and—”
    â€œAnd lost your nerve and shot him when you didn’t have to.”
    Red looked surprised. “Yeah. That’s just what he said.”
    Boland waited, watching the man think it over. Then, “You starting to get any notions in your head?” It occurred to him then for the first time. He had been thinking Red was a damn fool hiding all that time because of Jeffy—unless his face was plastered all over the country. Otherwise, how would anyone in Clovis have known him? Then it hit him: a reward!
    Virginia moved past him holding the coffeepot and a porcelain cup. She handed the cup to Red. “Try some coffee. Maybe you’ll feel better.”
    â€œI don’t think I’d hold it.”
    â€œWell, try, anyway.”
    He held the cup over his lap in his left hand and she leaned closer to pour the coffee. Suddenly she moved the pot to the side and emptied the scalding coffee on Red’s gun hand.
    His hand went up as he screamed and the gun flew over the foot of the cot, and in the instant she pushed the palm of her hand over his mouth forcing his head against the wall and muffling his scream.
    Boland came up with the gun. He did it without thinking; and now, as he leveled it in Red’s face he looked at Virginia with disbelief in his wide-open eyes. They followed her as she moved across the room, replaced the coffeepot on the stove and returned to stand awkwardly near the cot. She bit her lower lip nervously, watching the man.
    The violent motion had ripped open his wound and now it was bleeding again. He hugged his arm to his side, groaning, with his scalded hand held limply in front of him.
    Virginia’s head lowered closer to his and she said, “I’m sorry,” embarrassedly.
    For another moment Boland continued to stare at her, but now with curiosity in place of surprise, as if he wasn’t quite sure he knew this woman he had married.
    He handed her the pistol. “Want me to cock it?”
    â€œI can do that.”
    â€œIf he budges, shoot him quick.”
    He moved toward the door and hesitated momentarily before turning back to Virginia. He kissed her mouth softly and looking into her face as he drew away, her features seemed not so sharp and pointed. And there was more color to her skin. He moved to the door anxiously, but glanced at her again before going out.
    The rain had worn itself to a cold drizzle and there was no moon to make shadows in the blackness. He moved around the house slowly, cautiously, and hugged the adobe as he passed the garden. His pistol was in the saddlebag hanging in the barn-shed and now he thought: why in hell didn’t I bring it in!No, then Jeffy would have it now. But he wouldn’t know it was in the saddlebag. I’ve to get the gun—and then Jeffy. But where is he?
    He reached the back of the house and crouched