been filled with a malicious amusement, bold and made brash by the indisputable advantage of having caught Sierra’s agent with his back turned. While that back was still turned he had filled his hand, exulting in the prospect of seeing this fellow crawl, of humbling and making him ridiculous in the goggling eyes of that whey-faced mozo. Now that prospect was shattered, blotted out in the incredible grimness of the man’s unexpected advance.
Bennie backed up a step. His gun jumped to focus. He tried to squeeze its trigger but somewhere the impulse must have shortcircuited and he was locked in his tracks, frozen in the certainly of the doom looking at him from those unwinking eyes beneath Descardo’s red hat.
Bennie, without even realizing it, began backing. His gun fell out of nerveless fingers, thudding dully in the dust of powdered hay and dried horse droppings. His shaking hands went above his head and Reno followed him through the runway’s arch and into the windy blackness of the night with Cordray’s horse, on the reins, catfooting behind him.
Just as the horse cleared the doorhole, Bennie tripped. With arms flailing wildly he struck the ground on his back. A muffled curse whined out of him and, staring down at him, Reno said from the saddle, “Never get in my way again,” and was gone.
NINE
I N THE SANCTUARY of her room Linda sat a long while with her thoughts and her conscience before she could bring herself to take her Dad’s pistol and leave it where Reno must inevitably find it.
Once the deed was accomplished she was filled with confusion, prey to shame and regret, to remorse and misgivings. How could she so abuse Don Luis’ trust and hospitality?
She paced the narrow confines of her room, distraught and frightened. Twice she went to the door, determined to gain peace of mind by removing the gun before he could find it. But each time, with her hand on the latch, something stopped her.
A thousand questions clawed at her mind, but full dark had come and none of them were answered when she heard the horse.
Don Luis, in his office, also heard the horse and wondered who could be departing Tadpole at a time so near the cook’s call. He wasn’t particularly interested and yet the wonder remained at the outer fringe of his awareness, intruding upon the contemplative tenor of his thoughts with a nagging sense of increasing disquiet. At last he put aside the papers he’d been examining and called for Juan.
The fat major-domo sidled into the room with an anxious smile and stood twisting his hat, uncomfortably reminded of the purloined cigar he had enjoyed behind the stables. The box lay open but the saints were good. Don Luis’ brusque query put his worry at rest.
“I do not know, patron, who has left the ranch at this hour.”
“Then find out. And be quick about it.” Don Luis picked up his papers again but as the Mexican turned away he said testily, “Make sure first of all the señorita is still in her bedroom.”
In some ways, he reflected, that Tejano was right. He had not been giving enough time to the girl. Because in his own mind the fact was established, he had taken her ultimate surrender perhaps a little too much for granted. He would remedy that. Tonight he would court her. He would have a couple of the mozos sing outside her window. It was true that one who would enter a low door must stoop. Blood of Christ, he could play the bear if he had to! If all else failed there was still the bank and, beyond that, foreclosure. In the meantime an ounce of honey might be just what the situation wanted. And the affair might not be without interest. Many a leg gets warm neath the blanket.
About to select a fresh weed from the box, Don Luis’ head canted to the renewed sound of hoofbeats. “Valgame Dios!” he snarled, jumping up, and threw open the win-down the better to hear. But he’d heard right with it shut Another horse was departing, heading south in a hurry.
Cordray pulled in his head
Bennie backed up a step. His gun jumped to focus. He tried to squeeze its trigger but somewhere the impulse must have shortcircuited and he was locked in his tracks, frozen in the certainly of the doom looking at him from those unwinking eyes beneath Descardo’s red hat.
Bennie, without even realizing it, began backing. His gun fell out of nerveless fingers, thudding dully in the dust of powdered hay and dried horse droppings. His shaking hands went above his head and Reno followed him through the runway’s arch and into the windy blackness of the night with Cordray’s horse, on the reins, catfooting behind him.
Just as the horse cleared the doorhole, Bennie tripped. With arms flailing wildly he struck the ground on his back. A muffled curse whined out of him and, staring down at him, Reno said from the saddle, “Never get in my way again,” and was gone.
NINE
I N THE SANCTUARY of her room Linda sat a long while with her thoughts and her conscience before she could bring herself to take her Dad’s pistol and leave it where Reno must inevitably find it.
Once the deed was accomplished she was filled with confusion, prey to shame and regret, to remorse and misgivings. How could she so abuse Don Luis’ trust and hospitality?
She paced the narrow confines of her room, distraught and frightened. Twice she went to the door, determined to gain peace of mind by removing the gun before he could find it. But each time, with her hand on the latch, something stopped her.
A thousand questions clawed at her mind, but full dark had come and none of them were answered when she heard the horse.
Don Luis, in his office, also heard the horse and wondered who could be departing Tadpole at a time so near the cook’s call. He wasn’t particularly interested and yet the wonder remained at the outer fringe of his awareness, intruding upon the contemplative tenor of his thoughts with a nagging sense of increasing disquiet. At last he put aside the papers he’d been examining and called for Juan.
The fat major-domo sidled into the room with an anxious smile and stood twisting his hat, uncomfortably reminded of the purloined cigar he had enjoyed behind the stables. The box lay open but the saints were good. Don Luis’ brusque query put his worry at rest.
“I do not know, patron, who has left the ranch at this hour.”
“Then find out. And be quick about it.” Don Luis picked up his papers again but as the Mexican turned away he said testily, “Make sure first of all the señorita is still in her bedroom.”
In some ways, he reflected, that Tejano was right. He had not been giving enough time to the girl. Because in his own mind the fact was established, he had taken her ultimate surrender perhaps a little too much for granted. He would remedy that. Tonight he would court her. He would have a couple of the mozos sing outside her window. It was true that one who would enter a low door must stoop. Blood of Christ, he could play the bear if he had to! If all else failed there was still the bank and, beyond that, foreclosure. In the meantime an ounce of honey might be just what the situation wanted. And the affair might not be without interest. Many a leg gets warm neath the blanket.
About to select a fresh weed from the box, Don Luis’ head canted to the renewed sound of hoofbeats. “Valgame Dios!” he snarled, jumping up, and threw open the win-down the better to hear. But he’d heard right with it shut Another horse was departing, heading south in a hurry.
Cordray pulled in his head
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