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Authors: Tabor Evans

Tags: #Westerns, #Fiction

Longarm and the Whiskey Woman (20 page)

BOOK: Longarm and the Whiskey Woman
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"What do you think happens now?" Longarm said. He flexed his arm several times, making sure it didn't stiffen up. "You reckon they'll be taking a dim view of this matter?"

Frank Carson shrugged. He said, "They're fair people. I know they look a little backward, but they're still fair. Old Asa knows what Mark tried to do. He tried to bushwack you, and he got himself killed in the process. He knows you were defending your life. He knows that Morton Colton should never have come here, and that this situation should never have happened. That's why he was trying to make peace. He knew it would go wrong if y'all got guns in your hands."

"What do you reckon will happen now?" Longarm said.

Carson took a drink of his whiskey. "Let me finish this, and I'll go over there and see what the weather is like. If you see me coming on the run, you'd better go out the back door."

Longarm said dryly, "There ain't no back door."

Carson finished his whiskey and then stood up. "Then you better make one."

Longarm sat pondering the situation while he waited for Carson to return. It could be that the gunplay had blown up the whole investigation. He might likely be facing an armed party of Coltons or the old man might simply order him off his property. Longarm had no idea what was going to transpire. He felt a good deal of satisfaction about Morton Colton, but not so much as to what he had been forced to do to Mark.

After about a half hour, Longarm saw Frank Carson walking back from the house. He was carrying some long, white strips in his hand. Longarm figured they were torn-up sheets that he was going to use to bandage up his shoulder. He realized that he had been lucky in this whole process. If Sally hadn't screamed, Mark would have caught him with the full spread of the buckshot. He wouldn't have just been hit in the right shoulder. He would have caught the load all through his upper body and his head. Most likely, if he hadn't been badly wounded, he would have been killed.

Carson said, "Brought some bandages to do you up proper. First, splash some whiskey on them wounds."

"You mean you want me to do that to myself?"

"You ain't got the nerve for it?"

Longarm picked up the glass of whiskey and poured it onto his raw flesh. It still bit him so bad, he had to grit his teeth.

Carson pulled a chair up next to Longarm's side and began wrapping the bandages around his upper arm and over his shoulder. It was a difficult job, and he made clumsy work of it, but in the end he tied it off and pronounced it the best he could do.

Longarm asked, "What about Mr. Colton? What did Asa have to say?"

Frank Carson shook his head slowly. He said, "He didn't really say anything to me. He's coming over in about a half hour to have a talk with you. It'll just be him and John."

"You reckon talk is all they have on their mind?"

"If they were going to do anything about it, they'd have already done it. There'd be bullets coming through these windows, making both of us dance."

Longarm gave him a look. He said, "Mr. Carson, I want you to understand, this is not your trouble. It's mine, and I think you'd be well advised to stay out of it."

"Have no fear, Mr. Long. I intend to stay out of it."

CHAPTER 10

Asa Colton came over to the cabin, accompanied by his son, John. His manner was grave and reserved and sad. He and Longarm sat on opposite sides of the little table, facing each other. Longarm said, "Mr. Colton, I want you to know that I feel mighty bad about what-"

The old man held up a hand. "Ain't no time for words about that now, Mr. Long. Saying sorry don't bring the past back. Mark wasn't much account, but he was my boy, and I want you to bear that in mind when I tell you what I have to tell you. There ain't nothing personal in it, and I don't hold no grudge again' you, but it's just got to be the way it's got to be. I can't let you marry my daughter Sally. Not after you killed her brother."

Longarm found his role very difficult to play. He had never intended to marry Sally, but if he was what he had presented himself to be, he wouldn't lose her without some argument. He had to play his string out as the Arizona cattle and land businessman who was trying to get into the whiskey business. Two men, neither one of which was of much account, had forced him to kill them. He didn't feel a damned bit bad about it, and he had no intention of not going through with his job. He felt sorry for the sad-eyed old man sitting across from him, but that wasn't his responsibility. He had been forced to kill the old man's son. If Mark hadn't been out there with a shotgun trying to kill him, he wouldn't have gotten himself killed. Longarm felt sorry for Asa, but he was still going to do his job.

He said, "Mr. Colton, that ain't fair. You and I both know that Mark was trying to kill me. You can't take Sally away from me on account of defending myself. Now, you let that snake Morton come in here and cause me trouble. It don't seem fitting that you would hold me to account for what he and Mark got up to. I never set out to kill nobody."

The old man nodded slowly. "I reckon what you say is true, Mr. Long, but it just wouldn't work out for you to be married to Sally. The rest of the family would hold it again' you. Mark was wrong. He was trying to ambush you with a shotgun. He was helping that sorry Morton. I've got to thank you for killing that rattlesnake. In the end, he'd of ruined more than one of the Coltons. He's already ruined several of them, and I hate it that the last one he ruined was my own flesh and blood. I don't hold it again' you for killing him--Mark, I mean. I don't hold it again' you for nothing. He was shooting at you. In fact, he shot first. I seen it. Mr. Long, I know what happened."

John was standing right behind his daddy. In a strained voice, he said, "Mr. Long, what Daddy is trying to say is there never would be a way for you to be accepted into the family. Mark's wife would hold it again' you, and eventually, she'd hold it again' Sally, and so would the rest of the family. Y'all would always be on the outside. Sally's crying her eyes out right now, but there ain't no other help for it. Daddy is already having her clothes packed. He's going to send her with her aunt until you get cleared of the country. She don't want to go, and she's putting up a hell of a struggle, but if she has to go tied hand and foot, she'll be leaving within the hour. You ain't never gonna be seem' her again, Mr. Long."

Longarm sighed. He said, "That comes as a blow to me, John. I don't think it's fair and I don't think it's right, but if that be your daddy's decision, ain't a damned thing I can do about it."

Old man Colton nodded. He said, "I appreciate it kindly. By kindly, I mean I appreciate you not standing up and making a squawk about it. It's for the best, Mr. Long. I know my kinfolk, and I know it just wouldn't work."

"Well, that's that, then. And I reckon, except for the whiskey, our business is finished."

The old man said, "There do be one more thing, Mr. Long. I'm a-feared I can't sell you no whiskey now."

Longarm was truly startled this time. "The hell you say! How come you can't sell me no whiskey? Here you take the woman I love away from me and now you say you ain't gonna sell me no whiskey?"

Asa Colton shrugged. He said, "I thought it through and I figured it to be for your own good. You can't ever come back here in this holler and you can't ever do any more business with this family. One load would just whet your appetite for more, like Mr. Carson here. He's been buying whiskey from us for five, six, seven years. Buys four or five times a year, I don't remember exactly how many. So, you see, one little load of two thousand gallons ain't gonna set you up for much."

Longarm said stubbornly, "Yeah, but I've come all this way, and I ought to at least take back some. That little old two thousand gallons, at least I ought to be able to take that back. What are my partners going to think that I've been doing out here? If I come back with no whiskey, Mr. Colton, then I'm going to look mighty bad. Now, I ask you, would you like to be in the position you are putting me in?"

The old man thought for a moment. Finally he said, "No, I reckon not." He looked up at John. "Son, what do you reckon? Should we let him have that two thousand gallons?"

John shrugged. He said, "It's already loaded on the wagons and they'll be starting up any time. What difference does it make? Mr. Long has to get out of this country somehow. He might as well get out on that train."

Longarm said, "There. Thank you, John, I appreciate it. Lord, it's hard enough to take a man's woman but then to try to take his whiskey..."

Asa nodded. He said, "Well, in that case, if we're going to let you have the whiskey, then I think it's only fair that you do Morton's job on the account of it was you that killed him. I was thinking about asking Mr. Carson to do it, but he's a customer that will be coming back, and you ain't ever going to be coming back, so it seems fair to ask you to do it."

"Do what?"

"Well, the way we handles it with them two federal fellows is, we pay them off at the train as it's loaded on the siding. We pay them ten cents per gallon. We're going to be shipping twelve thousand gallons, so we'll have twelve hundred dollars to hand to them for the whole shipment. Now, I don't ever let no Colton hand them the money."

"Hell, Morton was a Colton."

The old man shook his head. "No, his last name was Colton. He wasn't a Colton. If he'd been the only one that you killed, there would have been no trouble. But someone has to hand over the money, and I'd take it kindly if you'd handle that for me, Mr. Long, and we'd be quits and there'd be no hard feelings, not that there is any now."

Longarm was calculating in his mind. It would have been better to have one of the Coltons hand over the money to the Treasury agents. It wasn't as good with him doing it. But what was important was that they took it. If they took it from his hand, then the Treasury agents were just as guilty as if they had taken it from the hand of Morton Colton or any other Colton or anybody else connected with the whiskey so far as that went.

Longarm thought about it for a good long moment. Finally, he nodded. He said, "Yeah, I reckon I could do that."

The old man nodded. He said to Longarm, "For that, I'll let you have the whiskey, but I won't let you pay the money for it."

Longarm was alarmed. He said, "Sir, I wouldn't feel right about that. I feel the need to pay for that whiskey."

Asa Colton studied the situation for a moment. "You get your cash money from back home?"

Longarm nodded. "Yes, Mr. Carson brought it to me."

"Well, you just pay them government folks the money they got coming out of your cash, and we'll be square. That'll give you a pretty good price per gallon, and you can make a little more profit."

It didn't matter to Longarm what the price was, so long as money changed hands. "I'm much obliged for that, sir. Do you mind if I ask what the names of them Treasury agents are?"

John said, "Not that it makes much difference, but their names are Colley and Small."

"They got first names?"

Behind him, Carson laughed. He said, "Hell, Mr. Long, do you plan on getting social with them? What the hell do you care what their first names are?"

Longarm realized he had gone too far. He said, "I don't really give a damn what their names are. I just wanted to make sure I give the money to the right people."

Asa chuckled. He said, "You'll be able to tell which ones they are. They'll be the ones with their hands out. There might be some confusion about Morton not being there, but you just tell them that you are taking his place, that he met with some kind of accident."

Longarm said, "I reckon I can handle that."

Asa Colton got up. "There's one more thing, Mr. Long. I'm going to ask you to stay in this cabin for the balance of this day and tonight. I know it seems unfair, but there's some hard feelings over at the big house, and I wouldn't want you to run into any more trouble. I'll have you some supper sent over. You and Mr. Carson will be leaving early in the morning. The wagons will be pulling out right after dark."

"I don't understand all that I know about this train business. Can you explain this to me?"

John said, "There ain't really nothing that you need to know, Mr. Long. You ride along with Mr. Carson. He's done this a half dozen times before, and he knows the way."

Longarm said, "How come the wagons are leaving here tonight?"

"Because it's a hard pull up and down some of these hills for the horses and oxen. That whiskey weighs considerable more than you think it does. Twelve thousand gallons is a pretty good load of whiskey."

"All right," Longarm said. The two men were moving toward the door. "I'm sorry it turned out this way, Mr. Colton. I wish we could have gone on doing business in the future."

The old man stopped and shuffled his feet for a second. He said, "You never can tell. Time has a way of healing old wounds. I hope you don't feel too bad about Sally."

Longarm said, "Naturally I feel mighty bad about Sally. I hope she finds a good man who won't cause her trouble with her own folks. I wish it could have been me."

John said, "Well, we'll bid you a good-bye now, Mr. Long. Y'all have a good rest this evening."

BOOK: Longarm and the Whiskey Woman
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