Disturbing the Peace
The second Clint heard the shot, he dropped to one knee and reached for his pistol. Another shot followed the first, but that was just different enough in pitch to have come from a different gun. Soon the camp outside was filled with gunshots. The inside of the tepee wasn’t in much better condition.
“They’re trying to kill me!” Tolfox shouted.
That was all the braves needed to hear before they swarmed in two directions. Half of the warriors closed in around the chief and the other half ran from the tepee. A few of them stayed right where they were, however. Those were the ones who’d surrounded Clint.
“I didn’t fire a shot!” Clint said as one of the braves grabbed his arms and another drew a long blade from a scabbard hanging from his hip. “You were watching me the whole damn time!”
The Indian who’d laid down the law to Clint was the one who got up close to him now. Pressing the knife against Clint’s throat, he said, “If any of those soldiers did this, you will die.”
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THE GUNSMITH 320 STRAW MEN
J. R. ROBERTS
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
STRAW MEN
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2008 by Robert J. Randisi.
All rights reserved.
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ISBN: 978-1-1012-1530-2
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
ONE
The poker game had been going for close to two weeks straight. Having taken over one of the biggest tables in the back of the Jackrabbit Saloon, the game had brought more attention to the little town of Juanita than the night when Billy the Kid had used the place for a temporary refuge. Unlike that other time, the poker game could be talked about in the open and without fear of legal entanglements.
It was a bright day in Juanita and the air was warm without drifting too close to hot. But no matter how comfortable it was outside, nearly everyone in town was seeking the shade. That, after all, was where the action could be found.
The Jackrabbit Saloon was situated in the hub of the little town, so it was usually the first destination for newcomers. As such, nobody took much notice when a rider thundered up to the front of the saloon, kicking up enough dust to leave a gritty cloud in the horse’s wake. The rider jumped from the saddle, flicked the reins around a hitching post, and stomped into the saloon. Even with all of this noise, the rider had yet to draw more than one or two quick glances.
“This where the Evans game is being played?” the rider asked.
The man tending the bar was a stout, balding fellow with pasty skin and a bulbous nose. “Sure is,” he replied. “It’ll cost you two hundred dollars to buy in.”
“I don’t want to buy in. I’m looking for one of the men that’s supposed to be playing.”
So far, the barkeep hadn’t even glanced toward the front door. When he’d answered the rider’s question, it was plain to hear that he’d answered it several times already and was getting tired of hearing his own voice. Now that he had another reason to take his eyes off what he was doing, he seemed grateful for the disturbance. Once he got a look at the rider, he gri
nned from ear to ear.
“Well now,” the barkeep said as he took in the sight of the short woman dressed in buckskins. “If you’re looking for someone, I’m the man to ask.”
The rider stepped up to the bar and rolled her eyes at the man’s response. Since she had gotten that sort of reception plenty of times in recent days, she paid no mind to the barkeep’s wandering eyes. Once she got closer to the bar, those eyes were forced up toward her face anyhow.
“The man I’m looking for is Clint Adams,” she said. “Is he still here?”
“He ain’t about at the moment, but he should be around here before too long.”
“How long is that?” a dirty man standing farther along the bar asked. He looked to be somewhere in his late forties and had a long, narrow face covered in graying stubble. His chin was pointed and his eyes were cast in a severe squint. Shoving up to put himself closer to the barkeep, he also managed to shove the rider over a few steps.
“Take it easy, George,” the barkeep warned.
George’s squint got even worse until it seemed like a miracle that he could see at all. “To hell with easy! Adams cheated me out of more’n three hundred dollars! Unless you want to pay me back, you’d best tell me where that cocksucker is!”
The rider in the buckskins gritted her teeth and knocked her shoulder against George with enough force to reclaim her original spot at the bar. Even though she was just shy of five and a half feet tall, she carried herself like someone who towered over the angry man beside her. Judging by the look on George’s face, he surely hadn’t expected to be pushed aside so easily.
“Watch your manners, mister,” the rider growled. “I was having a conversation.”
“An’ you can still have it,” George replied. Now that he’d had a chance to look her over, his angry squint eased up a bit. “Matter of fact, you can talk with me if you like.”
The rider’s buckskins covered her from neck to toe and were accented by a few layers of tattered fringe. A few strands of light brown hair hung down over her forehead and the rest was kept in place by a weathered hat or was tied behind her head. But her hair didn’t seem to be what was holding George’s attention. His eyes were fixed upon the curves of her breasts beneath the tanned leather. Her hips were slender, but the buckskins wrapped around them nicely.
Glaring up at George, the rider said, “You won’t be able to do much talking once I break your jaw. Now, I suggest you back up a step before this gets messy.”
George started to laugh at her, but stopped short when he saw the fire in the rider’s eyes. Doing his best to keep his scowl in place, he stepped back and shifted his gaze to the bartender. “This is your place, and I bet you’d lose a whole lot of business if it got out this big game was crooked.”
“It’s not crooked,” the bartender said. “Everyone’s just getting bent out of shape over nothing.”
“I’m not getting bent out of shape!” the rider protested.
“And three hundred dollars ain’t nothin’!” George added. The moment he saw the bartender look over to the rider, George lunged over the bar to grab the man by the front of his shirt. “The bitch will wait her turn! I want this matter resolved right now!”
“What did you just call me?” the rider asked.
“You heard me, dammit. Now just wait yer turn!”
Before the bartender could say a word to either of them, he saw the rider pull back her arm and send a fist straight into George’s mouth. Although George was stunned by the blow, he obviously wasn’t going to take his lumps and be done with it. His hand flashed toward the gun at his hip as a string of obscenities spewed from his mouth.
So far, the men at the game in the back of the room hadn’t looked away from their cards.
TWO
“Hold on, hold on!” the barkeep pleaded.
Neither George nor the rider seemed to hear a word coming from the bartender’s mouth. Instead, George was fumbling for his gun while the rider took a few steps back to put some space between herself and the man she’d just punched.
George’s draw wasn’t quick and it wasn’t pretty, but it got the job done. By the time he pulled the rusty .44 from its holster, George was muttering, “I ain’t one for hurting a woman, but no bitch is gonna smack me around like that.”
Lunging forward to close the distance between them, the rider said, “If you talk to all ladies like that, I’m surprised you don’t get smacked around more often.”
Although George had his gun in hand, he hadn’t brought it up to aim it at her just yet. He shook his head and took a step back while raising his arm. He took half a step before stopping. George’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and his gun hand froze a few inches shy of taking proper aim. Although the rider was still directly in front of him, George wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he pulled in a slow breath and slowly shifted his eyes downward until he got a good look at what was happening below his belt.
The rider’s hand was down there and it was wrapped around the handle of a hunting knife. The blade of that knife was wedged between George’s legs so the sharpened steel was just making contact with him.
Grinning, the rider asked, “You ready to take back what you called me?”
At the moment, George was barely able to form a word. When he felt another hand drop heavily onto his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
“I’d suggest you make amends, George,” Clint Adams said as he stepped around while keeping his hand upon the man’s shoulder. “From where I’m standing, it looks like she’s got you where it counts.”
George wasn’t about to move a muscle. When he twitched his eyes to look over at Clint, he muttered, “God damn you, Adams. If this…”
Suddenly, George felt a bit more pressure as the blade pressed against his crotch.
Gulping loudly and nodding to the rider, George said, “If this lady didn’t have that knife on me, you wouldn’t be talking so loud.”
Clint stepped around George and leaned over to make a show of taking in the sight in front of him. When he got a good look at the knife being held between George’s legs, Clint pulled in a dramatic breath and winced. “I didn’t have anything to do with this lady or where she decided to put her knife, but from my experience I’d say you probably had it coming.”
“There ain’t no need for this,” George said as he lowered his gun and then dropped it into its holster. “See? I don’t even have my gun no more. Any harm comes to me and it’ll be criminal.”
“It’ll be a favor to clip a piece of manure like you,” the rider snarled.
Clint raised an eyebrow and nodded. “I’d have to agree. What did you do to deserve this, anyway?”
“I was…lookin’ for you, Adams,” George grumbled.
“What for?” Clint asked. “Was it about that three hundred dollars?”
“Hell…yes, it was.”
Although he’d been able to get a quick look at the rider, Clint took a few seconds to look at her again. Her buckskins were obviously well worn and contoured to her body, which told him that she was in them more often than not. He could also see enough of her curves to get a good idea of what might be under those buckskins. Her face was dirty, but became a whole lot prettier when she showed him a quick smile.
“What’s your name, ma’am?” Clint asked.
The rider might have held Clint’s gaze longer if she hadn’t been so concerned about taking her eyes off George. “Abigail,” she replied.
“I’m Clint Adams. Now that we’re on friendlier terms, why don’t we have a more civilized talk?”
“Fine with me. This asshole was the one who made things get nasty.”
“George is just upset because he’s been on a losing streak. I’m sure he’s had a minute to calm down. Haven’t you, George?”
“Yeah,” George grunted as he forced himself to nod. “My business ain’t with her anyways.”
“So if Abigail puts her knife away, you won’t step out of line?” Clint asked.
>
“She can go to hell, for all I care.”
Clint stepped between Abigail and George so he could reach out with his left hand to ease her arm down. Although she resisted at first, Abigail allowed her arm to be lowered until the knife blade was no longer between George’s legs. From there, she stepped back and planted her feet so she could still square her shoulders to both men.
“There now,” Clint said as he put himself directly in front of George. “Your business is with me, so let’s hear it.”
“You know what I’m gonna say,” George snapped. “You cheated me outta three hundred dollars and I want it back.”
“You bet two hundred dollars on a pair of sixes,” Clint replied. “I just raised you. There’s no law against that.”
“There’s a law against cheatin’. How the hell did you know what I was holdin’?”
“Because you’re a terrible cardplayer,” Clint replied without taking so much as a second to think it over. “Considering how many gamblers have come to town for this game, I’d think you were lucky to get out after losing only three hundred. Take your losses like anyone else and don’t make it any worse on yourself.”
George shook his head slowly and then faster until he seemed close to twisting it clean off his shoulders. “Oh, no. To hell with this and to hell with the both of you! First this bitch here thinks she can push me around and then you wanna keep what you took from me?”
Straw Men Page 1