Free Long Road to Cheyenne by Charles G. West

face. He turned then to see the dark rider emerge from the pines. His natural reaction was to reach for his Colt, only to recall that it was on his saddle with his rifle. There had been no thought that he would have need of it. Maybe he wouldn’t. He had no choice now but to wait and see. Taking a quick glance at Raymond, he guessed that Mary’s brother-in-law knew the rider, and from the expression on his face, he was not especially glad to see him.
    Sensing something was wrong, Mary stepped away from Raymond and hurried to gather her daughters up close to her. The stranger smiled menacingly at her as she called to Emma, who had paused to gawk at the visitor. Aware that Cam had gotten to his feet, the rider pulled his horse to a stop between him and the saddle on the ground where his weapons lay. He then glanced at him, still with the confident smile in place.
    “What are you doing here, Rafer?” Raymond asked, clearly angered.
    “Hello, Mr. Bishop,” Rafer replied, making no effort to disguise a sneer. “You don’t look happy to see me again.”
    “What do you want?” Raymond demanded.
    “I came to collect for that little piece of business I done for you.”
    “Our business is finished,” Raymond shot back. “You got every bit we agreed on, and our deal was that you would never come back here again.”
    Rafer glanced at Cam again to make sure he wasn’t about to make any sudden moves toward his weapons. “Yeah? Well, I’m changin’ our deal. I think you bought me off too cheap, Bishop. I got to thinkin’ about it and I think that job I did for you was worth twice as much as you paid me. So why don’t you just come up with the other half of my payment, and maybe I’ll ride away and not bother this little family picnic?” He smirked, enjoying his advantage over the two men. “You know, money’s the only thing that keeps my tongue from waggin’ too much.”
    “You son of a bitch,” Raymond blurted. “We had a deal, and I kept my end of it.”
    “And I kept mine,” Rafer roared back. “The son of a bitch is dead.”
    “Shut your mouth!” Raymond demanded, looking anxiously back and forth between Mary and Cam.
    “Like I said, nothin’ shuts me up like a few bags of gold dust, and it looks to me like you’re handin’ ’em out right now.” He nodded toward Mary.
    “There isn’t any more,” Raymond insisted. The situation was becoming more desperate with each statement that came out of Rafer’s mouth. Not anxious to explain any more than had already been said, he decided it better to try to buy Rafer off. “All I’ve got left is one more five-pound sack. I’ll give you that if you’ll go away and leave me alone.”
    “You think you’re dealin’ with a damn fool?” Rafer shot back, irritated by what he considered a cheap attempt. “Yeah, I’ll take the other sack, and them two the woman’s holdin’. Then we’ll dig up some of the rest of that dust you’ve hid, and the sooner you get to it, the sooner we’ll be done.”
    Feeling helpless to do anything about the confrontation between the stranger and Raymond, Cam could only hope for some opportunity to make a move to protect Mary and the girls. He was afraid of what he felt certain was slated to happen. This man Raymond called Rafer was a gun hand, a killer, and Raymond had evidently paid for his services. It was not difficult to imagine who the victim might have been. Rafer, like Cam, knew without doubt that there was a helluva lot more gold dust hidden somewhere around this camp. And Cam also knew that it was highly unlikely that Rafer planned to ride away, leaving live witnesses behind. He glanced furtively under the belly of the gray horse at the rifle and pistol he could see lying on his saddle, so close, yet they might as well be fifty yards away.
    Mary, frozen in fear moments before, began to think rationally again, and she gradually realized the same thing that Cam had figured out. The more she thought about it, the