Читать книгу Deadly Road to Yuma - William W. Johnstone - Страница 8

Amelia was persistent, and Sam Two Wolves was as human as the next fella. By evening, she had worn down his resistance and talked him into taking her back to one of the little rooms behind the Ten Grand.

That left Matt to take care of putting their horses up at the livery stable and renting a couple of rooms for them at the local hotel, which was one of only two two-story buildings in town, the other being the bank, which was built solidly out of red brick.

Matt didn’t mind tending to those chores. Sam would have done the same if the situation had been reversed. In fact, he had done the same many times when it was reversed, which it usually was.

When he was finished with that, he wandered back to the Ten Grand. No sign of Sam and Amelia in the barroom, so he figured they were still occupied out back. Matt went over to the bar and nodded to the portly bartender, Archie Cochran, whose acquaintance he and Sam had made during the afternoon.

“Give me a beer, Archie,” Matt told him. He dropped a coin on the hardwood to pay for it. He and Sam weren’t short of money, only supplies, and if they needed to, they could have more dinero wired to them the next time they came to a settlement that had a telegraph office.

“There you go, Mr. Bodine,” Archie said as he placed the mug in front of Matt.

“I see Sam’s not back yet.”

Archie smiled. “Amelia’s a mighty inventive gal when she wants to be. She can come up with all sorts of pleasant ways for a gent to pass some time.”

“I’ll bet.” Matt took a drink of the cool beer. “What’s the best place around here to get something to eat?”

“Got a jar of pickled eggs down at the end of the bar,” Archie suggested.

Matt frowned and shook his head. “I was thinkin’ of something a little more substantial, like a steak maybe.”

“Try Hernando’s, right down the street.”

“Mexican place?”

“Hernando’s a Mex, but he cooks American. Good, too. You got to watch him, though, ’cause every now and then he’ll slip in some chili peppers.” Archie rubbed a palm over his aproned chest. “Can’t take ’em myself. They make me feel like I’m on fire inside.”

“I like spicy food myself. We’ll give it a try when Sam gets back.”

Archie chuckled. “He’ll probably have worked up an appetite by then, that’s for sure.”

Matt just smiled, shook his head, and sipped his beer. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man push the batwings aside and enter the saloon.

It was a matter of habit for Matt to watch everything that went on around him. A matter of survival, too, because there were varmints in the world who held grudges against him and Sam, as well as ambitious hombres who might want to make a name for themselves as the man who killed Matt Bodine…even if it took shooting him in the back.

Didn’t take him but a second, though, to size up this newcomer to the Ten Grand and realize that the old-timer was no threat.

He was a scarecrow of a man, scrawny and dressed in ragged, dirty clothes and a shapeless old felt hat. When he came up to the bar, Matt got a look at his face and saw that one eye had some sort of film over it. He felt a twinge of pity for the old man.

Archie Cochran didn’t look all that sympathetic as he went over to the newcomer and asked curtly, “What’ll it be, Ed?”

“Can I…can I have a beer?”

“You got any money?”

“I do.” The man reached into the pocket of his stained, torn corduroy trousers and pulled out a coin. “I got enough, see?”

Archie took the coin and said, “All right. That’ll buy you a beer. One beer.”

He drew it and set the mug in front of the old-timer called Ed, who licked his lips in anticipation.

Archie’s mood seemed to grow a bit more friendly as he said, “Haven’t seen you around for a while.”

“I been busy. Lookin’ for gold, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t look like you’ve hit a bonanza yet.”

“Oh, you never know, you never know,” Ed said. He picked up the mug and drained half of the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his turkey neck as he swallowed.

When he lowered the mug, foam covered his upper lip. He set the mug on the bar and gave a long sigh of satisfaction.

Then he glanced over at Matt, nodded, and said, “Howdy.”

“Howdy yourself, old-timer,” Matt replied. He didn’t introduce himself.

Ed turned back to the bartender. “Anythin’ interestin’ goin’ on here in town, Archie?”

“Not much. We had a little excitement earlier this afternoon when Matt there and his partner rode into town. Cyrus Flagg saw ’em coming and got worried they might be part of Joshua Shade’s gang, scouting the town for that bunch of owlhoots. Turned out they weren’t, though.”

Ed glanced at Matt. “Is that so? The sheriff’s worried about Shade, is he?”

“Wouldn’t you be?” Archie asked with a snort. “After all the hell those varmints have raised, anybody with any sense would be worried. That’s why Cyrus says we got to take precautions.”

“What sort o’ precautions?”

“Oh, you know, like watching out for strangers and posting lookouts.”

“Lookouts?” Ed repeated.

This was the first Matt had heard of that, too.

“Yeah, he just decided on that a little while ago, after Matt and Sam rode in. Figured it might be a good idea to post some fellas on the roof of the hotel and the bank so they can keep a watch around the town all the time. That way, we’ll spot anybody who’s headed this direction.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, all right,” Ed said as he nodded. “Already got guards up there, does he?”

“You bet. One man on top of the bank, one on the hotel. Nobody’s gonna sneak up on us now.”

“Well, knowin’ that’ll make me sleep better at night while I’m in town.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Archie frowned. “You’d better be careful, roaming around the countryside like you do, Ed. You might run right into that bad bunch.”

“I sure wouldn’t want to do that. I figure if I ever saw that Joshua Shade, I’d plumb die o’ fright right then and there.”

As if just talking about the infamous outlaw leader made him nervous, Ed’s hand shook as he raised the mug to his lips and drank down the rest of the beer.

Matt had paid just enough attention to follow the conversation between the bartender and the old prospector, although he had been somewhat interested in the talk about posting lookouts on the bank and the hotel. That sounded like a good idea to him, too, although it didn’t matter all that much to him since he and Sam would probably only be in Arrowhead for one night.

At that moment, Sam and Amelia came in through a door in the rear of the barroom. Sam looked vaguely embarrassed but happy, and Amelia had a big smile on her face. Matt grinned and lifted his mug of beer in a salute to them.

Sam said something to Amelia, who came up on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. Then he walked over to join Matt at the bar.

“Ready to go get something to eat?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, I am. Fact of the matter is, I’m pretty hungry.”

On the other side of the bar, Archie chuckled and said, “What’d I tell you?”

Sam frowned. “What’s he talking about?”

“Never mind,” Matt said. “We’re goin’ to Hernando’s.”

“What’s that?”

“Place with the best steaks in town.”

“Sounds good,” Sam said. “Lead me to it.”

Hernando’s turned out to be a narrow, hole-in-the-wall sort of place, but the smells that filled the air had the blood brothers licking their lips as soon as they went in. Hernando was a little fella with a lush, luxuriant mustache that curled up on the ends, and he greeted them with a big smile.

There were only three tables in the café and two of them were occupied, so Matt and Sam grabbed the empty one while they had a chance and ordered steaks with all the trimmings. When Hernando brought the food, they found that it was as good as Archie had said it would be.

Matt saw what the bartender meant about the spices, though. The steaks had a definite kick to them.

Once they were finished with the meal, they paid Hernando and promised that they would be back before they left Arrowhead. “Come back in the morning for my huevos rancheros, señores,” he told them with a big smile. “The best you ever had!”

“We’ll just have to see about that,” Matt said with a grin of his own.

As they strolled back toward the hotel, Matt asked, “You want to stop at the saloon again for another drink?”

Sam stifled a yawn. “Actually, I think I’d rather turn in. We rode quite a ways today.”

“Yeah, I reckon you’d be tired, all right, after that long…ride.”

“Damn it, Matt—”

Matt dug an elbow into his blood brother’s ribs. “Take it easy. I’m just joshin’ you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And it could be that I’m just jealous. Amelia’s a mighty pretty girl after all, especially for a soiled dove.”

“She’s just doing that for now, until she makes enough money to go to San Francisco.”

“Oh. I see.”

“You don’t believe her?”

“I didn’t say that.”

A rueful smile crept over Sam’s face. “Yeah, she was probably just telling me the same thing she tells everybody who goes with her. But maybe it was true. You never know.”

“You sure don’t,” Matt agreed. “Anything can happen.” He pointed with his thumb. “Here’s the hotel.”

They went inside, claimed their keys from the desk clerk, and headed up to the second floor. On the way, Matt told Sam about how Sheriff Flagg had posted sentries on the roof, as well as on top of the bank.

“Good idea,” Sam agreed. “I hope Joshua Shade stays far away from this town, though.”

“At least while we’re here,” Matt said. “You know how we love to avoid trouble.”