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Authors: Tabor Evans

Tags: #Westerns, #Fiction

Longarm and the Whiskey Woman (16 page)

BOOK: Longarm and the Whiskey Woman
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Longarm said to Sally, "Honey, you better get your robe on and go on back in the house. Let's get a chance to talk to your daddy about this. All right?"

She gave him a quick kiss and then slipped out of the bed and put on her robe. In another instant, she had flitted out the door. As she went out, Mark stepped back through. Longarm came out from under the covers with his revolver. He said to the angry brother, "I've got to get dressed, too, Mark, and I don't particularly care for you watching me, either. Now, you just step back unless you want to play 'Let's both get killed.' I can shoot you dead before you can pull the triggers on that shotgun, I promise you. Now, get on out of here and I'll get dressed and be out there in three or four minutes."

The brother's voice was furious. He said, "All right, damn you, you son of a bitch. We're going to get this matter settled."

"Just get the hell out of here!"

Once again, Mark backed out through the door, pulling it to behind him. He yelled, "But I'll be waiting right out here, and there ain't no other way for you to go."

With a sigh, Longarm got up out of bed and began pulling on his jeans, shirt, and boots. The whole mess just seemed to get more and more and more complicated.

CHAPTER 8

They were all seated at the kitchen table when Longarm arrived. With the exception of old man Colton, they were all dressed, even Sally. Longarm wondered how she had managed to get into her clothes so quickly. He reckoned, though, looking at her and looking at the shape of her breasts underneath the thin dress, she hadn't bothered much with underwear.

The old man was wearing a long, woolen nightshirt. Even at such a quick moment, he had somehow managed to get a cut of tobacco stuffed into his jaw and was spitting into a tin can as Longarm walked into the kitchen. Longarm wondered if maybe he didn't sleep with a cud in his mouth.

Except for Sally, they all stared at him as he walked into the kitchen and took a chair just to Asa Colton's right. He said, with no trace of sarcasm, "Good morning, everybody. We're up a little early, aren't we?"

Asa Colton spat again and said, "Now, sir. I want to get to the bottom of this business and see what it's all about."

Mark jerked his thumb at Longarm. He said, "Daddy, it ain't about nothing. It's plain and simple. We caught this son of a bitch in bed with Sally. The son of a bitch was fixing to do things to her. She was nekkid and so was he."

The old man chewed slowly for a moment. He said, "You done told me that. Now, I want to hear how it came about." He turned his head and looked over at Longarm. "What's your version of the situation, young fellow?"

Longarm shook his head, keeping his eyes carefully off of Sally. He said, "I've got nothing to say, Mr. Colton, except your sons, at least this one..." and he jerked his thumb equally as viciously at Mark, "... busted into a place I was given to sleep in as a guest. Busted in with that shotgun that he's holding so lovingly in his hands. No, I've got nothing to say."

Mark half rose. "Well, I've got a bunch to say, and I'd like to do my talkin' with this!" He picked up the shotgun from where it rested on the table and slipped his finger inside the trigger guard. He said, "The son of a bitch was with my baby sister. What are we gonna do about it, Pa?"

Asa Colton held up his hand. "We ain't gonna do nothing in this here kitchen. You let that scattergun get loose in here, and me and you and everybody else will have Rebecca down on us. You just set yourself back down in that chair."

Mark put the shotgun down and said insistently, "Hell, Daddy, that fancy man from over at Russellville came over here and just put his hands on Sally and you had him taken out in the woods and shot. This son of a bitch was in bed with her, both of them nekkid."

Asa turned to Longarm. "That right, son?"

Longarm was halfway curious as to why the old man didn't ask Sally. He wasn't going to admit to anything, especially when it related to a lady's honor. These people didn't seem to understand that. "I'm going to tell you the same thing as before, Mr. Colton, and that is that I've got nothing to say on the matter other than I don't think it's very hospitable for someone to break into somebody's sleeping quarters with a shotgun at full cock."

From down the table, Mark shouted, "That's a damned lie. I never had that gun cocked, and you know it, but you damned sure had your revolver cocked under the covers because I heard it."

Longarm looked coolly down the table at Mark. "You don't know what I had under those covers, and you don't know whether it was cocked or not. Just sit down, little boy, and shut up before I come down there and fix it so you don't eat so good tomorrow."

Mark sputtered, he was so angry. He pointed his finger at Longarm. He said, "Listen to him, Daddy. Now he's insulting your very own sons."

A smile came over Asa's face. He said, "Sons? I ain't heard him say a word about John. Seems to me he was talking to you."

It was at that moment that Sally chose to speak up. She said, "Daddy ..." She reached out and tugged at his nightshirt sleeve. "Daddy, Mark ain't got nothing to do with this." She nodded her head at Longarm. "I choose this one. I want this one."

The old man looked at her for a moment and then his gaze came slowly back to Longarm. He said, "Him?"

"Yes, Daddy. He's the best-lookin' thing I've ever seen."

Mark sent up a howl, but Asa Colton raised his hand. He said, "Shut up, Mark, for the last time."

Then he turned back to Longarm and sat intently as if he was looking for something that Sally was seeing that he wasn't. He said, "You want to marry this one?"

"Yes."

Longarm felt a hollow feeling inside. A flame of fear rose inside him as sharply as he had ever felt. He said, "Marry? When did we ever start talking about marrying?"

The old man said slowly, looking at Longarm, "Well, son, I don't know how it is where you come from, but when a stranger comes in and goes to beddin' down with a man's daughter, there'd better be a marriage, or there's gonna be a funeral. You understand what I mean by all that?"

Longarm swallowed. For once, he was totally at a loss for words. He just stared at the old man and then at Sally.

Asa Colton said, "Now, daughter, you sure? Marrying is not the same as bundling. You can bundle and then not be there the next day, but you marry, you've got to be there the next day. You want to wash his shirts and fix his meals and have his babies for the rest of your life? That's what marrying means, daughter."

She said stubbornly, "I've seen a bunch of them, and he's the first one I wanted. Daddy, I choose him. I told him the first time I got my hands on him that I chose him."

Longarm could remember her saying that before. He could also remember wondering exactly what she meant by it. Now he knew. It gave him a deep, sinking feeling inside.

The old man scratched his head. "Well, it looks like we're gonna have a weddin'." He looked down the table at John. He said, "Son, how long will it take to get a preacher here?"

John shrugged. "I can send a man later on in the day, but it kind of depends on whether or not you want the rest of the kinfolk to get here. You know, we've got this big shipment, and we ain't got but a couple more days before that train's due at the siding."

Asa nodded. He looked at Sally. He said, "Well, can you wait three days, girl?"

Sally said, looking a little unhappy, "I can wait if we can bundle."

Asa shook his head. He said, "No, if y'all are betrothed, then there can't be no more bundlin' until the preacher says the words over you. No, ma'am, I can't have that."

Longarm felt like a man in a deep, dark prison seeing the first glimmer of light. He said, "That's only fitting, Sally. You've got to do these things right, the way your daddy says. Yes sir, I give you my word, Mr. Colton. We won't do no more bundling until after the wedding."

Colton nodded slowly. He said, "Well, son, I knowed from the first time I laid my eyes on you that you were a gentleman and that you had some good blood in you. I reckon I'll trust my daughter to you."

A thought struck Longarm. "You realize, Mr. Colton, that I live in Arizona and that your daughter will have to go with me?"

He felt certain that the idea would cast a serious pause over the idea of marriage. But Mr. Colton said, "It's only fittin'. In the Bible, it says that a woman's supposed to follow her man. If you're a-takin' that whiskey back to Arizona, I reckon that Sally'll be goin' with ya after the words get said."

Longarm said, "But are we going to get that whiskey loaded and ready to go before the wedding?"

John said, "I don't see why we don't have the wedding right then. They can get married and get on the train right there."

Longarm, desperate for a way out, said, "But, Mr. Colton, I won't have the money. What if Frank Carson doesn't get back here on time with the money?"

Mr. Colton snorted. He said, "Son, you'll be family then. It won't make no difference about the money."

It had to make a difference about the money. Money had to change hands. Longarm said, "Oh, no, sir. I've got to pay for that whiskey. That deal was struck before the marriage. No, sir. I cannot take your daughter's hand in marriage and twenty-five hundred dollars' worth of whiskey at the same time. No, sir, I can't do that."

John said, "Why don't you let it be a wedding present from the whole family? That wouldn't be too much."

The old man looked at Longarm. He said, "There. That's a bargain for you. You get a pretty little girl and two thousand gallons of whiskey. A man can't get a better deal than that, can he?"

Longarm could feel his heart sink as he sought for a way out. No man with a lick of sense would turn down such an offer. He said, "Mr. Colton, I've got a sense of honor about these things, sir. A business deal is a business deal."

The old man shrugged his shoulders. He said, "Aw, shucks. We ain't got to worry about it right now. Hell, it's three o'clock in the morning, and here we are a-sittin' and talkin' about a weddin' and whiskey and all that sort of thing and there ain't no call for it. Mark, you put that damned shotgun up, and if you ever point it at your sister's betrothed again, it's liable to be you gets taken out into the woods and laid bare with a pissellum club, so you just keep that temper of yours down. I'm the one watches out for my children, not you."

Then he turned to Longarm and put out his hand. He said, "I'm mighty obliged to have you for a son-in-law. You'll make a good one."

Longarm looked over at Sally. She was smiling contentedly. She said, whispering to him, "I can wait, but it's going to be hard."

Longarm just nodded weakly. There was not another word he could say.

They all stood up. The old man said, looking first at Sally and then at Longarm, "Remember now, no bundlin'. We'll get this whiskey shipped, then get y'all married, and then y'all can go on out to Arizona. How does that sound?"

Sally was radiant. She said, "Oh, Daddy. Oh, Daddy. I'm just thrilled."

Longarm said, "Sounds just fine to me."

"Then let's get on to bed. There's been enough of this foolishness."

Longarm went on back to the cabin and sat down in front of the bottle of whiskey and poured half a glassful and didn't even bother with the water. Instead, he took a straight jolt and let it burn all the way to his stomach and then let it extend all the way from his stomach down his legs and back to his scrotum. He could feel his privates shrivel and his ears burn, such was the power of the whiskey. He thought out loud, "I am in some serious kind of a trap. This is all Billy Vail's doing, and he is probably dying laughing right now. Marrying? Hell, I'll shoot my way out of here first. Marrying? She's as pretty a girl as I've ever seen, but I ain't marrying her."

He spent the rest of the night trying to unscramble the mess in his mind, but it was just one of those kinds of knots that wouldn't come unwound. Billy Vail had warned him to stay out of the backwoods of the Ozarks. There was danger in these mountains. There were ambushes everywhere. Billy hadn't told him what kind of danger there was and what kind of ambush to look out for. He'd walked straight into one, and it was just about as soft and sweet and juicy an ambush as he'd ever walked into. A man could get healed from a bullet wound, but he didn't reckon he'd ever recover from a marriage. And the hell of it was, now that the matter was out in the open and declared, he wasn't even allowed to have any more pie. That was a hell of an arrangement. A man got invited into the bakery and then told he couldn't have any more pie until such time as certain formalities were gone through. As far as Longarm was concerned, pie was pie, and the saying of words or whatever it was that they did, didn't change the flavor of the pie. Finally, in disgust, he toasted the sun's arrival with some more of the vile-tasting raw whiskey.

It was an awkward day. He went in to breakfast. Sally was there, letting off a kind of glow. She didn't speak to Longarm, but she kept her eyes steady on him, so strong and steady that it almost made his hands tremble as he tried to eat his eggs and grits and bacon. Somehow, several more women had managed to squeeze in at the breakfast table, and they seemed to be well up on all the details. From time to time, one would whisper to another and then they would all giggle and stare. He could feel himself redden whenever they did. John was cordial and a cousin named Samson that Longarm had never met but only nodded to was friendly. Only Mark had a glower on his face. The old man, as if Longarm were already part of the family, began talking about the making of whiskey as if Longarm were familiar with every step and could appreciate the fine art they were practicing.

BOOK: Longarm and the Whiskey Woman
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