Free Riders From Long Pines by Ralph Cotton Page A

the sheriff from Albertson?” she asked Quinn, eyeing a shiny new badge on his chest that peeked from behind the loose lapel of his riding duster.
    â€œWe’ll ask the questions here,” said Black before Quinn got the chance to answer. “You just answer and do as you’re told.”
    Do as you’re told? Quinn gave him a sidelong look, getting a good idea of just how far Black would go, left to his own judgment. “Yes, I’m Sheriff Peyton Quinn,” he said, taking a step forward away from the edge of firelight and the perimeter of woods. “This is Deputy Grady Black. He’s what you could call a recent admirer of yours.”
    All right, Maria thought, she understood. A woman alone in a campsite in the middle of a dark night. She saw where this would soon be headed if she couldn’t manage to put a stop to it. Ignoring the remark, she asked, “Did you bring a team of horses to pull the stagecoach?”
    Quinn stopped. He looked back at Black, then back to Maria with a thin, flat smile. “Didn’t you hear my deputy? We’ll ask the questions. You do as you’re told.” He stepped closer. “Who are you, and where is Ranger Burrack?” He looked at the ranger’s blanket lying crumpled on the ground near the fire.
    He knew perfectly well who she was before he’d ever walked into the firelight, she told herself. “I’m Maria,” she said, staring at him in a way as to make him understand that she knew this was all a game of his.
    â€œOh, Maria,” he said with a grin.
    â€œRanger Burrack went into the woods for a moment. He is on his way back right now,” Maria said, hoping her voice sounded convincing, enough to defuse any explosive situation these two might try to create. “May I lower my hands now and pick up my rifle?” She tacked on “Now that we know we are all on the same side.”
    â€œNot so fast, little lady,” said Quinn, enjoying himself, still wanting more. “How do we know you are who you say you are?”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Black. “As far as we know, you could be part of the ones who robbed this stagecoach. The ranger could be lying dead somewhere for all we know.” He remained standing at the edge of the firelight and the woods line in a strained, awkward position, as if embarrassed to step closer right then. She understood. . . .
    All right, trouble had arrived. These two had talked themselves into it on their way here, perhaps even as they had watched her from a spot in the darkness, like two hungry wolves. She thought about her gun belt still lying at her saddle, the butt of her Colt beneath the edge of her blanket.
    â€œWhat is it you want from me?” she asked almost as if in submission. But she knew the answer. She had to make a move. She couldn’t wait for Sam, and she didn’t want him walking into danger unknowingly.
    Quinn gave a suggestive smile. “I don’t know what you have in mind, ma’am,” he said, even his voice sounding lewd and filled with double meaning. “We’re just hardworking lawmen doing our job. But now I’m starting to wonder myself if maybe you’ve done something to the ranger.”
    â€œHe will be back any second,” Maria repeated in a cool, level tone. She knew that when the moment came she would make a leap for the Colt instead of the rifle, simply because that was the move they wouldn’t expect her to make.
    â€œThen I think we best be prepared to meet him,” said Quinn. “First of all, my deputy is going to search you all over, real thorough-like .”
    â€œI am warning both of you to keep away from me,” Maria said. “You’ve had your fun, now let it drop.” She was ready. In one fast leap, she would land on the blanket, grab the Colt and keep rolling. She rehearsed it in her mind, standing tense, ready to do it.
    To Grady Black, Quinn said,