Free Louis L'Amour by The Cherokee Trail Page B

“Ain’t likely.”
    “…what I think,” the younger man said. “Some mistake.”
    They finished eating, and one of the men rolled a smoke. The younger glanced around again. “Tidy,” he said, “right tidy.”
    “Thank you, sir! It’s the only way a poor girl can hold a job these days, to do something better than the men.”
    The younger man got up. “Come on, Joe. We’ll see the boss in Laporte.”
    They went out the door, stepped into their saddles, and rode away.
    Wat turned to Matty. “I thought I knew him! That’s Turkey Joe Longman. He’s a horse thief and gunman, only he’s never been caught at it. I don’t know the younger one.”
    When the sound of hoofs had died away, Mary came back to the station. Matty turned as she came in. “Wat says he knows the older one. He’s a horse thief.”
    “So is the younger one.” Mary Breydon’s eyes showed her anger. “The horse he’s riding was one of ours from back home. I know that horse, and he would know me, I think.”
    “It’s been how long, ma’am?”
    “Almost two years since that horse was stolen. He was one of the last ones driven off by Flandrau’s men.”
    “Can you say for sure it was him?”
    “I can say it, but I cannot prove it, and he was using another name then. Flandrau was the name he used when he was not robbing and stealing.”
    “We must tell Mr. Boone, ma’am. He will know what to do.”
    “What to do is my problem, not his. I’ll not be getting him into a shooting because of my troubles. This is for me to do.”
    “You’ve made friends, ma’am, good friends. They’ll not see you put upon.”
    “Leave them out of it. I’ll handle it.”
    But how? She could not continue to hide whenever a stranger came by. She had done so this once because she needed time. There was a chance now they would not realize for a few days, at least, that Matty was not the woman in charge. Then they would come back.
    “They’ll not be fooled,” Wat said. “By now there will be talk of you all along the line. Ma’am, I know cowboys, and I know the West, and by now they will be speakin’ of you from El Paso to Uvalde to Salt Lake. A good-lookin’ woman who can
cook
?
    “Word gets around, ma’am. The West has no secrets. There’s little enough that’s news, and a man in El Paso will know what the town marshal looks like in Denver, he will know there’s a card sharp in Kansas City who looks at his watch just before he deals. They know there’s something crooked going on, but nobody’s caught him at it yet. So they will know you’re here.”
    “Thank you, Wat. I needed a little time, just a little.”
    “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but you’re goin’ to need a lot more than that. Those are mean men, mighty mean.”
    She stood looking out the window, looking down the road. Of course, Wat was right. All she had done was to gain a little time, time to think, to plan.
    Of course, Jason Flandrau must be careful. To go further with his plans, he must not allow any taint of suspicion to touch him. He must seem to have nothing at all to do with what happened, so it was unlikely he would use any men who were known to work for him or be friendly to him.
    Whatever else he might be, Jason Flandrau was no fool. He had acted quickly to kill her husband, but he had no choice, and that was a gun battle, and there were many men in Colorado and the West who had engaged in gun battles. Why even Andrew Jackson had once killed a man in a gunfight!
    To kill a woman was another thing, so it would be done with care by somebody unconnected to him, by somebody…perhaps even a renegade Indian?
    She must get a pistol.
    She would go into Laporte, for, of course, they needed much else. There were odds and ends of clothing she must obtain for Peg and herself and a little other shopping. And she must be thinking of schooling for Peg, and as there were no schools close by, she must handle that herself. For Peg and Wat, she reminded herself.
    Long ago, her