Free Cotton's Devil (9781101618523) by Phil Dunlap

the red scarf stopped at the livery before venturing into a countryside he didn’t know his way around in. He asked the stable boy how to get to Old Hill Road. The young boy leaned on his pitchfork and looked at him as if he were stupid.
    â€œYou makin’ fun of me just because I’m muckin’ out horse shit?”
    â€œI’m not makin’ fun of you at all. Just want to know where the damned road is, that’s all. If you don’t want to tell me, I’ll be on my way.”
    â€œYou’re on it, mister. Don’t you know nothin’?”
    The man’s first impulse was to draw his Remington and put a hole straight through the scrawny smart-mouthed kid, but he decided instead to ride on, erasing his anger by sucking on the whiskey bottle as he went.
    As soon as I find that sheriff’s lady friend
, he thought,
I reckon that’s when my job begins
.

Chapter 11

    E mily had come out on the porch when Henry Coyote called to her about an approaching rider. As she took a step closer to Henry, the rider pulled up just in front of the steps. He did not offer the courtesy of tipping his hat to a lady but instead leaned forward, dark, brooding eyes searching about as if he expected to find someone else.
    â€œWhat can I do for you, mister?” Emily said.
    â€œI’m lookin’ for a gent I was told would likely be here.”
    â€œWhat gent would that be?”
    â€œA man named Cotton Burke. Where is he?”
    â€œWhy would you figure him to be here?”
    â€œI was told in town that if he wasn’t there, this is where I could find him. Spoke like you was his woman. You sayin’ that ain’t true?”
    â€œI reckon you’ve been led astray. I’m nobody’s woman, and he isn’t here. Now it’s time for you to move on,” she said, and turned to go back inside. “And don’t come back or I’ll have you thrown off the ranch.”
    â€œDon’t believe a word you’re sayin’. I can see it in youreyes. And don’t you show your backside to me, lady. I won’t stand for dismissal from no damned bitch. Now tell me where I can find this Cotton Burke. And be quick about it. I ain’t a patient man. Got a message for him.”
    â€œWhat message would that be?”
    â€œI been on the road a spell, and I’m plumb tuckered, so tell me what I want to know, or else you ain’t gonna like what comes next.”
    The man in the dusty black flat-brimmed hat clenched his teeth as he drew a nickel-plated .38 from a shoulder holster beneath his duster. He thrust it out straight, pointing directly at her. Emily froze in place, her eyes wide in a mixture of surprise and fear. No one had
ever
pointed a gun in her direction before.
    â€œI told you once and I’m not going to tell you again, he isn’t—”
    Before she could finish her sentence, the man followed her with the little spur-trigger .38, a couple inches to the right in the direction she’d moved, keeping it aimed directly at her as he cocked the hammer and placed his finger on the trigger.
    â€œLast chance,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
    Emily stood her ground with a defiant jut of her chin, arms crossed.
    â€œGo to hell,” she spat, with a venomous scowl.
    That’s when he made his move, but Henry moved quicker. He shoved Emily out of the way, taking the full force of the explosion himself. He fell on top of the surprised woman. As the stranger raised the gun to shoot again, one of the ranch hands came around the corner of the house, six-shooter drawn. He pulled off a quick shot that hit nothing but air. It did, however, serve its purpose. The man yanked hard on his reins and wheeled his horse about, then spurred the mare to a dead run toward the gate.
    Struggling to free herself from beneath Henry, Emily felt something wet as she gripped his arm. Blood dripped onto her shirt and onto the porch. Henry had been shot.