Free Longarm Giant #30: Longarm and the Ambush at Holy Defiance by Tabor Evans

men and the deputy marshals?”
    “Billy didn’t say. But if it’s not in the report there, I reckon it’s a subject we’ll have to cover when we get to the ranger post in Broken Jaw. I know a few of the boys down there. They’re likely hell-bent on finding the men who shot their pards, and they’ll most likely want to be the ones who serve up the gun justice good and hot, but they’ll be as helpful as they can be.”
    “If they had been able to serve up this gun justice, as you call it, they probably would have by now. Which means they must be pretty much in the dark about who killed those men.”
    “Most likely.” Longarm sat back in his seat, tipped his hat brim down over his eyes. The rye had worked its magic on him. “Well, if you’ll forgive me, I reckon it’s time for a nap. We got a long pull ahead. Figured we’d ride horses from Belen. The train south of there is notoriously slow and the Southern Pacific west through Broken Jaw ain’t quite finished yet.”
    He squinted one eye at her beneath his hat. “You can ride a horse, can’t you?”
    “Of course I can ride. Just as well as you, Marshal Long.”
    “Well, proof of that will be in the puddin’,” he said, chuckling ironically. “But I do apologize. This is the first time I’ve been paired up with a woman. I mean,
professionally
, of course.”
    “Of course.” Haven rolled her eyes in disgust.
    “Since I have my hoof in my mouth, anyway, I might as well go ahead and ask you if you have proper riding attire. That dress…while it does fit you dang nice…would be a little uncomfortable—”
    “You worry about your own proper attire, Deputy,” she said crisply, “and I’ll worry about mine.”
    “All right, all right.” Longarm pulled his hat down loweron his forehead. The improbability of their situation continued to amaze him, and he realized he was grinning again when he heard her say, “I realize this is all very amusing to you, Deputy Long, but I really must insist that you put the other night behind you. I know I have.”
    He opened his left eye and was about to respond that he was dearly trying to do just that but held his tongue when he saw a group of men in dusty leather trail gear studying him and Agent Delacroix from their seats a few rows up from Longarm and on the left side of the aisle. Most of their attention was on the girl, of course, and they weren’t so much studying Haven as ogling her.
    Speaking just loudly enough to be heard above the train’s irregular roar, he said, “Watch yourself.”
    She’d immersed herself in the file but looked up at him curiously. He lifted his chin to indicate her admirers. She turned her head to follow his gaze, then turned back to him and gazed down once more at the open folder in her lap.
    “Don’t worry, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
    “Yeah, I seen that little popper you had in Leadville.”
    “That ‘little popper,’ as you call it, is quite the efficient weapon. I’ve turned many an hombre toe-down with it.”
    Longarm arched a surprised brow at the girl. “‘Many an hombre toe-down’?” He snorted a laugh and closed his eyes, knowing that if any of the girl’s oglers approached he’d likely smell him before he heard him.
    “What’s so funny about
that
, pray tell?”
    “I do believe you’ve read too many yarns by Deadeye Dick, Miss Delacroix.”
    “I thought you were going to take a nap, Marshal Long,” she said in a strained, admonishing tone, suggesting that she’d long come to the end of her leash regarding one Custis P. Long.
    Longarm opened his right eye halfway, looked at the girl’s admirers once more through sun-bleached lashes. They occupied two seats, beneath a billowing cloud ofcigarette and cigar smoke. There were five of them, and from what Longarm could see of them, they appeared well armed with both long guns, short guns, and knives.
    A Mexican with a sweeping mustache grinned at the girl with his sombrero tipped back of his