Longarm and the Wyoming Woman (6 page)

The trip up to Cheyenne across the rolling grasslands pocked with buffalo wallows was uneventful, and after the previous night of vigorous and frequent lovemaking, both Longarm and Addie slept in their seats nearly all the way north.

When the train pulled into the Cheyenne station, they disembarked and found a nice room at one of the best hotels in town, then ordered dinner brought to their door.

Later that evening, while sitting in an easy chair sipping an excellent brandy and smoking a much better grade of cigar than he did in front of his boss, Longarm asked, “How far away is Buffalo Falls?”

Addie thought a moment, then said, “As the crow flies, it's about one hundred fifty miles and it's northeast of us.”

That was farther than Longarm had expected. “Is there a regular stagecoach to carry us up to Buffalo Falls?”

Addie shook her head. “There are supply wagons that also carry mail, leaving maybe once a week. I rode one of them down from our ranch when I left for Denver. But I don't know when and if it leaves on a regular schedule.”

“In the morning after breakfast, we'll ask around and find out what we need to do. I'd rather take a stagecoach than ride a horse that many miles.”

“I'd rather ride a horse,” Addie said with a troubled smile as she rubbed a medicinal ointment on her knees. “But I'll take either just so long as we get there as fast as possible.”

Longarm studied her. “Your eye is looking a little better and the knees a little worse.”

“They're just scabbed up. In two or three more days, the scabs will be gone and they'll look just fine. They are the least of all my concerns.”

“You're pretty worried about your father, aren't you.” It wasn't a question.

“Yes,” she said. “I should have left Denver a month ago when I got Father's last letter.” Addie took a deep swallow of the brandy they'd ordered and said, “What if he's already dead? What if Father was killed by Stoneman or one of Stoneman's hired guns!”

Longarm didn't know what to say in response. “If he's gone, Addie, it'll be one more nail in Stoneman's coffin.”

“That's not much consolation.”

“I know,” Longarm said, coming over to pull her close and comfort her. “But since we don't know otherwise, let's just assume that your father is alive and holding on. If we have to travel a hundred fifty miles, we can do it in three or four days.”

“Three,” she said, “if we buy a pair of really good horses.”

“All right,” Longarm agreed. “We'll get up first thing in the morning and see if there is a stagecoach or wagon leaving for Buffalo Falls. If not, we'll buy a couple good horses and provision ourselves for a fast trip north.”

“Are you much of a horseman?” she asked with a slight grin.

“I can keep up with you,” he vowed. “But I'm no cowboy, and I'll get saddle sores and butt blisters traveling that far that fast.”

Addie laughed. “You're
more
than a cowboy, Custis. My father is going to like you a lot . . . especially when he learns how you saved me and our money back in Denver.”

Longarm put his drink on the table and yawned. “Addie,” he said, “if we're going to travel far and fast over the next three days, I'm going to take advantage of our soft hotel bed and get a good night's sleep.”

She managed to smile. “Maybe we should see how those bedsprings bounce before we start counting sheep.”

“You up to it?” he asked in surprise.

“No,” she said, “but the real anatomical question is . . . are
you
up for it?”

Longarm was wearing only his underwear and when he glanced down at his manhood, he saw that it was limp. “Not yet, Addie, but I'll bet you can take care of that shortcoming.”

Addie came into his arms and her fingers were soft, but strong and insistent. In only a few minutes, the two of them were testing out the mattress and box springs, and all the worry and bad thoughts about Wade Stoneman vanished from their minds like leaves blowing in a strong Wyoming wind.

Longarm and Addie got moving early the next morning. By eight o'clock, Longarm had learned that the next supply wagon bound for Buffalo Falls wasn't going north for five days.

“Too long for us to wait,” he said to the friendly owner of Cheyenne's largest general store. “Mister, where can I buy a couple of good horses at a fair price?”

“Galloway's Stable,” the man said without hesitation. “The owner, Mike Galloway, is honest and he treats people fair, although he thinks that he knows everything there is to know about anything and everything. Mind if I ask why you want to go to Buffalo Falls? From what I hear, it's not a healthy or happy place to be anymore.”

Addie stepped forward. “This is Deputy Marshal Custis Long and he's come from Denver to investigate the illegal activities of Wade Stoneman. Custis used to work with Stoneman.”

Longarm could have choked Addie, and yet he knew that it was his fault in not telling her that he really didn't like people knowing his business unless it was absolutely necessary. But like it or not, the cat was out of the bag so to speak, and Longarm felt sure that soon half of Cheyenne would learn who he was and why he'd been sent from Colorado.

As if sensing Longarm's displeasure at her blurting out the reason for their wanting to ride north, Addie tried to rectify her mistake. “But, mister, we'd appreciate it if you'd keep this information under your hat. Do that and it would make things easier for us both and maybe improve our chances of taking Stoneman down.”

The store owner nodded with understanding. He was a man in his forties, short and bald, but still fit-looking and rather handsome. “Sure! I know how to keep a secret, and from what I've heard of Wade Stoneman, the last thing you want to do is give him any warning. So don't worry, I'll keep what you've told me in strict confidence.”

“In that case,” Longarm said, spotting a well-stocked gun rack behind the counter, “why don't you fix us up provisions for the trail? Also, I see that you carry quite a few rifles and shotguns.”

“I take them in trade for supplies when people are down on their luck. People have to eat, but they don't necessarily have to own a rifle or shotgun.”

Longarm leaned over the counter and studied the rack of weapons with serious interest. “Which is the best rifle in that rack?”

The man carefully took down a fine Winchester repeater. “This one is hardly used at all. I haven't test-fired it, but I'm sure it shoots straight and has no malfunctions. I'll bet it hasn't fired fifty rounds. At least, that's what the man that traded it in told me.”

Longarm examined the rifle. “How much do you want for it?”

“Twenty-five dollars . . . and just to show you I'm a fair man, I'll throw in a full box of ammunition.”

“Sold.” Longarm looked to Addie. “What about you?”

“I've got a Colt and a derringer packed away in my valise, and I expect my father still has my favorite rifle waiting up at the ranch.”

“Does he own a shotgun?” Longarm asked, spotting an extremely impressive shotgun on the store owner's gun rack.

“Why, no. Why should he?”

“No good reason, I guess,” Longarm said. “But I like the peace of mind they can give a man who is outnumbered. Mister, how much for that fancy double-barreled shotgun with the light-colored stock?”

The store owner grinned. “Now
that
is a real crowd tamer and a mighty fine weapon that was made in some little country called Belgium . . . or maybe it was Spain. I forget. It's beautifully engraved, as you can see, and you won't find a finer shotgun anywhere, not even in Denver.”

“Those barrels are big. What gauge?”

“It's an eight-gauge and I guarantee that it'll blow off the barn doors at each end and then knock down a couple of horses.”

“Where'd you get a weapon like that?” Longarm asked, becoming even more interested in the beautiful shotgun.

“Glad you asked,” said the man, taking down the shotgun and holding it with near reverence. “You see, there was a rich English gentleman here hunting game birds this summer. But the shotgun kicked him so hard that he said it nearly broke his right shoulder. He had been shooting it on a guided hunt, and when he came to my store to unload that fine weapon, his arm was resting was in a sling and he couldn't hardly move his shoulder. That's why I purchased that fine sporting weapon for a fraction of its true value. Marshal, I'm willing to pass my good fortune on to you.”

“You got shells for this little cannon?” Longarm asked, taking the shotgun and hefting it for balance, then checking the barrel and breech. It was far too beautiful to kill men, but it had really caught Longarm's eye and fancy. He wanted it very much.

“I do. Two boxes.”

“How much do you have to have for it?” Longarm asked, doubting he could afford the weapon.

“Hmm, well, I sure don't want to give this beauty away, Marshal.”

“How much,” Longarm repeated.

“How about . . . how about this remarkable shotgun and two full boxes of shells for just sixty dollars.”

Longarm whistled and shook his head. “Afraid that's a little rich for a working lawman.”

“Marshal, this gun would easily bring a hundred dollars in Denver. Easily! And it would bring twice that much money back East.”

The man was right. Longarm figured that, if he survived Buffalo Falls, he could take the impressive sporting weapon back to Denver and sell it for maybe a hundred fifty dollars. It would be a nice profit. Hell, that kind of profit would be worth a month's salary . . . if he could bear to part with such a beautiful shotgun.

“Mister, you're probably right, but I just don't know if I can afford it,” he said more to Addie than to the store owner. “Provisions and a buying a horse, saddle, and that Winchester are taking up almost all of my travel money. If I spend another sixty dollars on top of all the rest for this shotgun, then I'll be pretty near busted.”

“I'll buy it for you,” Addie said without hesitation.

“Aw, I couldn't let you do that!”

“I'm afraid you're going to have to,” Addie told him. “After all the money you saved me from losing in Denver, it's the least I can do. Besides, you just might need it to help me and my father against Wade Stoneman.”

Longarm wasn't a man to take gifts, but in this case if he declined Addie's generous offer, he reckoned that it would be an example of a man being overcome by his foolish pride. “Okay,” he said. “But when this is over, if we're still standing, then you can have the shotgun for your own.”

“I wouldn't even want to think of shooting that cannon,” Addie said with a grin. “It would knock me over and probably break my shoulder. Uh-uh, Custis. When we walk out of here, this shotgun is yours and yours alone.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “I'll come back for it and the Winchester when we get the horses bought,” he told the store owner. “If you could have the provisions in a sack, we'll pay the damages just before we leave town.”

The store owner was very happy. He'd already made more than an average day's sales in just a few minutes. “I'll have everything ready, Marshal. Do you need two bedrolls . . . or one?”

Longarm could see how the man's mind was running, and he started to say two, but Addie answered, “One good, heavy bedroll and a tarp will get us up to Buffalo Falls reasonably warm and dry.”

“Good enough,” the store owner said. “And how about a little whiskey for the cold nights on the trail? You could get snowed on at this time of the year.”

“Whiskey and a dozen cigars would be good,” Longarm said. “And we'll want a couple of good-sized canteens and rain slickers to fit.”

“Done!”

Longarm started to leave, but then turned and said, “How much do you reckon this will all cost us?”

The store owner frowned and toted up the figures in his head. “I'd say about one hundred twenty-five dollars, give or take five dollars.”

“And that buys your word that you will keep silent about who I am and why I'm riding with this lady up to Buffalo Falls?” Longarm asked, his eyes piercing.

“Mister, you have my word on it! I'd keep my silence even if you didn't buy a dime's worth of hard rock candy.”

“That's what I wanted to hear,” Longarm said. “Where is Galloway's Stable?”

The man gave them directions and they went up the street. Addie said, “Do you think that man will keep your secret?”

“At least until we're out of Cheyenne,” Longarm replied. “But I saw a ring on his finger, so he's married. Most likely, he'll have to tell his wife, and then she'll tell her friends who will tell their friends. I'd give it a day before the whole town knows my name and why we've ridden north.”

Addie wasn't so sure that the store owner would break his promise. “You may be wrong and maybe that nice man will never say a word.”

“Hope you're right.” Longarm looked ahead and saw the livery. “You want me to do the pickin' and dickerin' for our horses?”

“I'll pick the horses,” Addie said. “I think I know more about them than you do. After that, you can dicker over the price. If I think you've done well, I won't make a peep. But if I think you're getting taken, I'll have to step in and do the horse trading.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Longarm told her.

They bought the best two horses in Galloway's Stable. A red roan mare with a flaxen mane and tail for Addie, and a tall buckskin gelding for Longarm. They also bought saddles, bridles, halters, and blankets in addition to a couple of saddlebags.