Longarm and the Whiskey Woman

by Tabor Evans

  Longarm had begged off by saying that he was wearing riding boots and didn't feel like doing any walking.

  John had said, "You ain't got that much walking to do, not with the dogs we've got. They'll have four or five coveys pointed out and spotted up within two hundred yards of the house. Besides that..." and he had given Mark a look, "... it'll put a shotgun in your hands in case you need one."

  But he had still begged off, saying that he was tired from the night before and wanted a nap.

  Supper hadn't been much better, but he managed to bring it off a little better than lunch. One of the women had began giggling about how quiet he was. She said, "He's scared already. Reckon what it'll be when the preacher gets in front of him. Reckon someone'll have to hold him up? Stand him up there and then work his jaw and tell him what words to say?"

  The whole table had laughed and Longarm had turned crimson. He could feel the flush on his face, feel it burning all the way down to his feet.

  The old man had cackled. He said, "Now, y'all leave my new son-in-law alone. A man's got a right to get a little fidgety when he sees that horse collar coming. Hell, if anybody knows how a mule feels, it's a married man. Gonna spend the rest of his life pulling a plow. Now, y'all just leave him alone."

  Longarm had been grateful. He had slept that night in comparative peace. The problem was still not resolved, but at least no one came bursting through the door with a shotgun.

  For a little while before he went to sleep, he had contemplated what it would be like to be married to Sally. He had an idea she'd make a perfect wife. He didn't think, however, she'd be so eager to marry him once she found out that he was a United States deputy marshal and spent about twenty-nine days out of every thirty away from home. He didn't think she'd be very interested in being married to a man who had three or four bullet-hole scars on his body as well as a couple of knife slashes. She also might not be very interested in being married to a man who liked women as well as he did and would expect him to be celibate all the time he was gone. No, he really wasn't husband material, any way you looked at it. It pained him that he was going to be hurting her and giving her disappointment. She obviously wanted a man, and she obviously loved to be with a man. He didn't know of too many women he had ever met who took such joy out of making love, and from the way she talked, it was something she seldom had a chance to engage in.

  Well, he thought, that was the problem of being a member of a large clan like the Coltons. It would be very difficult for anyone in those mountains to be good enough for her. He figured most of the attraction he held for her was that he was not from the Ozarks, that he was from Arizona. He was different. He was a strange new face. He'd like to believe otherwise. He'd like to believe he was as handsome as she thought he was, but he knew it wasn't true.

  To his great relief, Frank Carson rode in early the next afternoon. At least now, Longarm thought, there would be another strange face for the clan to occupy their minds with. He saw Carson come riding in through the window of the cabin. He saw him tie his horse up in front of the big house and then turn and walk toward the cabin. Longarm was glad of that. If he had gotten word accidentally or by mistake from Billy Vail about Longarm's true identity, he would have gone straight on into the big house and told the Coltons. But now he was walking straight toward the cabin with his saddlebags over his shoulders. Longarm could see a valise tied to the back of Carson's horse. It looked like Longarm's.

  He opened the door and yelled at Carson before he could get very far from his horse, "You forgot my valise!"

  Carson nodded and went back and untied the valise from the saddle and then came back, carrying the valise in one hand and his saddlebags over his shoulder. Longarm could read nothing from his expression.

  As Carson was making his way, Longarm went to the table and got a quart of the four-year-old whiskey that the old man had given him. He poured them both out a drink and then sat down at the table. When Carson came in, Longarm said, "Where the hell have you been? I thought for certain that you'd taken my money and run."

  But Carson had a serious look on his face. He didn't even pretend to smile. Instead, he shut the door behind him and then dropped Longarm's valise and his saddlebag at the end of Longarm's bed. He came over to the table, sat down, picked up his glass, drank off half of it, and then looked at it. He said, "I see you've managed to get yourself in good with the old man."

  "How's that?"

  "I was coming here nearly two years before he ever offered me any of this stuff. Mostly what I got was that pop-skull we've been getting."

  "What are you looking so damned serious about?"

  Carson studied his glass. He said, "You've got trouble. That's what I'm looking so serious about."

  A chill went through Longarm. Billy Vail had fouled up. Somehow, he had let Carson know who Longarm really was. But he said with as much nonchalance as he could muster, "Oh, yeah? What kind of trouble I got? With you?"

  Carson shook his head. He said, "No, not with me. If you had trouble with me, you'd already know it. I wouldn't be sitting here drinking with you."

  The fear that he was exposed was growing larger and larger in Longarm's chest. Would anything go right with this damn job? He said, "Are you going to tell me what this trouble is?"

  Carson looked over at him. "I want you to know that I had nothing to do with it. I don't know how it happened."

  "What? Dammit!"

  "I reckon Morton Colton ain't more than an hour behind me. I damned near killed my horse trying to get here in time to warn you."

  Longarm sat up. His voice was a mixture of surprise and relief. "What? What do you mean, Morton Colton's about an hour behind you?"

  "Exactly what I said. He braced me up in town and said he was coming out here with me."

  "I thought you said you didn't know him."

  "I told you that I wasn't supposed to know him, if you'll remember. You don't come into town and act like you know Morton Colton. That's about like announcing you're in the whiskey business, but I know him and he knows me. We don't socialize together or go to church together. But he knows you're here."

  "How the hell could he know I'm here?"

  Carson shook his head. "I don't know, but he does. Maybe somebody sent word in to him. Have you made an enemy out here?"

  Mark Colton's face instantly flashed into Longarm's mind. "Yeah, you might be able to say that with no trouble."

  "Anyway, he knows you're here, and he wanted to ride out here with me. I told him I didn't want to be seen with him and I wasn't mixing into any trouble between you two. My best advice to you is to forget all about buying any whiskey, saddle that horse of mine, and go on back to Little Rock. Leave the horse at the livery stable and get on the next train."

  Longarm was starting to relax. Hell, it was just Morton Colton. He said, "No, I like it here. I think I'll stick around awhile. Besides, I am getting married in three or four days."

  Carson blinked and blinked again and then stared at Longarm. "I thought you just told me you were getting married in three or four days."

  "I did."

  "Somebody in Arizona?"

  "No. A very nice lady right here."

  "There ain't nobody here that they would let you marry."

  "Well, she more or less asked for me herself in front of the whole family."

  Carson looked at his glass and then drank a part of it and then looked at the glass again. "This stuff must be making me drunk faster than I realize, because the next thing I know, you're going to tell me that you're going to be marrying Miss Sally and I'll know we're both drunk."

  "Then I guess we're both drunk."

  Frank Carson was silent for a moment. "I know you ain't kidding because that ain't something you'd josh about. It's just hard for me to believe that all of this has happened in the three days that I've been gone."

  Longarm nodded his head slowly. "Well, it happened. They done invited me to marry her."

  "I take it you said yes?"

&nb
sp; Longarm gave a short bark of laughter. He said, "Would you have said no to a family that brings shotguns to the breakfast table?"

  "I reckon not, and she is a most luscious piece of goods. Pardon me for talking so familiarly about your intended bride."

  "That's all right, I don't mind you admiring her so long as you do it from afar."

  Carson was silent for a moment. "Well, this does kind of mix up apples and oranges. Morton is coming here, and I don't reckon his intentions are peaceful. But now you're damn near going to be a member of the family and they don't allow feuding in the family. This could get right interesting. I can't imagine what old Asa is going to say or think or do."

  Longarm said, "What do you think Morton is going to do? Seems to me he's the one to be concerned about."

  Carson shook his head slowly. "I don't know. I do believe the old man will tell him he has to lay off of you, but whether he will or not is yet to be seen."

  "What difference is it going to make to the old man if I'm going to marry his daughter? I thought you told me they didn't care for Morton anyway, period, no matter who was involved. You told me that my best invitation down here was that I was on the outs with Morton."

  "That is true, but now you're coming down to the family name, and his last name is Colton and yours ain't. I don't know what's going to happen, I can't even make a prediction. If I's you, I'd forget all about it and get on that horse and get on out of here."

  "I'm not so sure about that, Mr. Carson. I'm not so sure that's what you'd do."

  Carson pulled a face. He said, "Well, at least one of us ought to do, or both of us, if we were in that situation. That's what a smart man would do. Of course, I ain't very smart."

  Longarm sighed. This damned situation kept getting more snarled up. He said, "I reckon I'm not, either."

  "Well, you ain't got much time to make up your mind."

  "Oh, my mind's already made up. I just want to see how it plays out."

  "You're going to wait, I take it?"

  "Yeah, I was always one to have a great amount of curiosity. Besides that, I don't much care for Morton Colton. I doubt seriously that he'll stand up to me or anybody else. I read him for a coward."

  Frank Carson took a moment to pour them both out some more whiskey. He said, "You might be making a mistake about that."

  They talked on, mostly about the shipment of whiskey and how it would be handled. Longarm was just about to pour them out another drink when he saw motion flash past the window. Frank Carson saw it at the same time, and he got up and peered out. He said, "Well, there he is. He's dismounting and going into the house. You ain't going to have long to wonder what his intentions are or what the old man will let him do. Any instructions to me?"

  Longarm gave him a half-smile. "Well, you might let me know if you got my money. So far, you've managed to talk about everything else but my twenty-five hundred dollars."

  Carson gave him a surprised look. He said, "Oh, was I supposed to get you some money?"

  Longarm sighed. He said, "Looks like it's going to be a double-killing day. I'm going to have to kill you for stealing money, and then I'm going to have to kill Morton Colton just for the hell of it."

  Frank Carson turned and walked over to his saddlebags. He said, "Don't get in such a hurry. I'm not in the mood to get killed today." He unbuckled one of the pouches and took out a fat envelope. He walked over and pitched it on the table in front of Longarm. He said, "There, and if you count it, I'm going to take it as a personal insult."

  Longarm looked inside at the fat bundle of fifty- and one-hundred-dollar notes. He closed the big envelope and put it back on the table. He said, "It looks close enough for government work. I guess I'll save your dignity for you."

  Carson sat back down and pointed at the envelope. He said, "Would you make out a will now and put it in there that I'll get that money?"

  Longarm said, "I believe you're rushing my death a little, wouldn't you say?"

  Carson craned his head to look out the window. "Here comes John Colton. I reckon we're going to know something here in a little bit."

  They both sat there, staring expectantly at the door. In a moment, it opened, and John Colton stood there. He said to Longarm, "Daddy wants you to come to the house. It looks like we've got trouble. Morton is here, and he's ranting and raving his head off."

  Longarm said, "I don't want to come over and see Morton Colton in your daddy's house. You go tell Morton Colton that if he's got anything to say to me, he can say it out in the open where he can't bushwack me from a window or a door or from around the side of the building."

  John shook his head. "He wouldn't dare do that. Daddy would string him up in a tree."

  "I don't want to give him a chance."

  John stood, holding the knob of the cabin door, worrying it with his hand. He had a perplexed look on his face. He said, "What am I supposed to go back and tell Daddy?"

  "My problem ain't with your daddy. My situation is with your cousin, or whatever he is-"

  "He's our cousin."

  "All right, my trouble is with our cousin, and I think it ought to stay between him and me."

  John looked down at the floor. He said, "That ain't the way it works around here, exactly."

  "You mean you ain't got no say in the matter?"

  "Yes, sir. You come over and Daddy will tell you both how he wants you to do."

  "Your daddy's going to say he wants us to shake hands and be friends."

  "No, no, no. Daddy knows better than that. He don't trust Morton any farther than he could sling a bull. No, sir. He just wants to hear both sides of it."

  Longarm said, "I caught the son of a bitch cheating in a poker game, and I shoved a pistol in his face. That's my side of it. I don't know what his side of it is, and I don't care."

  John said, "You won't come over?"

  "I'll walk out in front as soon as Morton Colton comes out in front and we can talk right there."

  Frank Carson spoke up. He said, "Mr. Long, this ain't none of my business, but if I's you, I'd go on over and hear what the old man has to say. Could be that the matter could be resolved with no further trouble."

  John said, "See. That's what I've been trying to tell you. Daddy is trying to head off any trouble."

  Longarm said with disgust in his voice, "Yeah, I know Mr. Colton is trying to do for the best, but you can't turn sour milk fresh once it's turned sour. Morton Colton is sour milk. But I'll go with you. If that son of a bitch is waiting to bushwack me, there's going to be a hell of a lot of lead flying and some innocent people could get hurt."

  John shook his head. "Daddy won't let that happen."

  Longarm gave Carson a significant look. He said, "Daddy might not be able to stop it. Morton Colton don't strike me as the kind of man who listens to anybody but himself."

  Frank Carson said, "I'm going to be right behind you, Mr. Long, so if any bushwhacking happens, I'll be able to see it at the same time as you, and there will be a lot of lead flying."

  Longarm cocked his head and looked at Carson. He said, "You don't know me that well, Mr. Carson. It could get a little dangerous out there."

  "Oh, I like that sort of thing. Let's go."

  Longarm shrugged and started for the door, loosening his revolver in the holster as he did.

  CHAPTER 9

  They met in the kitchen. The old man and John and Mark were seated at the table. Morton Colton was standing with his back against the far wall. He was dressed much as he had been when Longarm had first seen him. He was wearing a white ruffled shirt with a black vest and the plantation broad-brimmed hat. Longarm noticed that he wore a silver buckle shaped like a concho. His boots were black and shiny, with silver tips.

  As Longarm entered the kitchen, Morton took two steps forward, his eyes dark and angry. He had his hand a scant inch from the butt of the revolver he wore in a black, tooled-leather holster. Longarm stopped in the middle of the room and stared at Colton. John went around him and took his seat at the
table. Longarm glanced back. Carson had stopped short of the door. He nodded at Longarm as if to say, I'm here but I don't want to intrude.

  The old man said, "Mr. Long, I'm much obliged at you seeing your way clear of coming over here. I know there be bad blood between you two, and we need to get it cleared up."

  Longarm said, "There's no bad blood between us, Mr. Colton. That son of a bitch standing over there next to the wall got caught cheating at a poker game, and he didn't much like what I done to him."

  Asa Colton said, "I think we've got to forget all about that. Let it be. I'm trying to make some peace here."

  Morton Colton suddenly stepped forward. "There ain't gonna be peace except I get a piece of that son of a bitch standing there. That no-good bastard shoved a gun in my face." Now, he turned and talked directly to Longarm. "You thought you'd seen the last of me, you cowardly bastard. You ran off up here in the hills and hid. You didn't know I'd find you, did you?"

  Longarm said carelessly, "No, I figured you'd find me. I just didn't figure you'd have the guts to come looking for me."

  Morton Colton's face went red with rage. He was almost sputtering when he said, "You son of a bitch! You and me's gonna get this settled."

  Longarm said, "You got that right, mister. I ain't about to hang around and give you a chance to back-shoot me."

  Asa Colton broke in. He said, "Boys, boys, boys. Stop this. We don't want no feuding or no trouble here. You're marrying into the family, Mr. Long."

  Longarm said, "I ain't marrying into that son of a bitch's family." He pointed at Morton Colton. "I wouldn't let my dog know that son of a bitch's dog."

  Mark Colton broke in. He said, "Daddy, ain't it just like I said it would be? I told you he wouldn't make no peace. I told you this fellow ain't fit for us. Ain't that what I told you?"

  Asa Colton said, "Shut up, Mark. You're not helping this matter any. You just keep it shut." He turned to Morton. He said, "You know, you ain't even supposed to be here. You're not welcome here. We made a deal a long time ago that if you stayed clear, you'd get your cut. And yet you come riding in here, creating a lot of trouble. We don't want no trouble around here. This is a happy time for us. Now, you get back on your horse and you ride on out of here."