Free Turnback Creek (Widowmaker) by Robert J. Randisi Page A

we’re ready. We just have to go to the livery and get our horses and then to your stable for the buckboard.”
    “I’m having someone hitch the team up as we eat,” she said. “I arranged for it yesterday.”
    “Thank you,” Cooper said. “That’ll save us some time.”

    After breakfast they went outside together. Molly shook hands with both of them, holding onto Locke’s a little longer.
    “Good luck to both of you,” she said. “I’ll see you at Turnback Creek tomorrow afternoon.”
    “We’ll be there,” Locke said, sliding his hand free.
    “If you’re not, for some reason,” she said, “I’ll wait an extra day before panicking.”
    “Is there a telegraph office here in town?” he asked her.
    “No,” she said. “That’s why I’ll wait.”
    “If something goes wrong,” Cooper said, “we’ll try to get a message to you somehow.”
    “All right,” she said.
    They stepped from the boardwalk into the wet street and started walking toward the livery. It wasn’t raining, but there was more in the offing, so they were carrying their slickers, along with their rifles.
    “This is the day I’ve been waiting for,” Cooper said. “The day we finally get started.”
    “We’ve got a lot of hard days ahead of us, Coop,” Locke said. “Are you ready for it?”
    Cooper looked at his friend. “Don’t I look ready?’
    He did. His eyes were clear, and there was a spring in his step that had not been there the day before. Any remnants of the man Locke had found unconscious in the Three Aces Saloon two days ago was gone.
    “You look amazingly ready,” Locke said.
    “I feel like a young man again,” Cooper said, “like ten or twelve years have melted away.”
    “I guess we’ll see how young we both feel when we hit that mountain, Coop,” Locke said. “A couple of duffers like us …”
    “You’re no duffer, John,” Cooper said. “You’re still a young man.”
    “I’m only six or seven years younger than you, Coop.”
    “Seems like more,” Cooper said. “Sometimes it seems like there’s a lifetime between you and me. I’ve always admired your strength, John. Did you know that?”
    “I’ve always admired your courage, Coop,” Locke said. “I guess we’re both going to be put to the test in the next few days, huh?”
    “More than you know, John,” Cooper said. “More than you know.”

TWENTY-THREE
     
    K ingdom Junction was the largest town within a hundred-mile radius of Turnback Creek. What John Locke didn’t know was whether the railroad had made it the biggest town or if it had already earned the title before that.
    They rode past the train station on the way into town, saw that it was empty. No train, no people on the platform.
    “What time’s the train due?” Cooper asked Locke.
    “What’s it matter?” Locke asked. “It’ll get here when it gets here. That’s how trains are.”
    “So, what do we do in the meantime?” Cooper asked. “Kinda hard for us nondrinkers to pass the time, isn’t it?”
    “You just have to perfect new combinations.”
    “Like what?”
    “Coffee and poker.”
    “In a saloon?”
    “That’s where you usually find poker.”
    Cooper looked at the empty platform again. He was driving the rig with his horse tied to the back of it.
    “Okay,” he said. “So, we’re in the saloon, and the train pulls in. How do we know?”
    “Come on, Coop,” Locke said. “It’s not like you never heard a train whistle before. They always blow it before they pull in. We’ll hear it.”
    “You want to play poker that bad?”
    “No,” Locke said. “It’s just a way to pass the time.”
    Cooper rubbed his hands over his lips.
    “I tell you what,” Locke said. “Forget the poker and the coffee. We’ll go inside, ask about the train, and then hit the saloon. One cold beer each to wash down the dust, then we’ll come back here and wait.”
    Cooper touched his mouth again and said, “Deal.”
    Cooper pulled the buckboard over, and Locke