A Fire in the Blood by Shirl Henke

Author:Shirl Henke [Henke, Shirl]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Shirl Henke
Published: 2011-01-30T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

While Lissa and Dellia were having their adversarial breakfast visit, Jess and Tate Shannon were having a tense confrontation of their own with Ringo Pardee in a shabby old bar on the edge of Cheyenne.

Pardee straddled a rickety cane chair and eyed the rotted plank floor strewn with filthy sawdust. His eyes were dark and as colorless as deep water; his thin, angular face was etched in cruel contours. He had a hooked nose and a thin, leering mouth. "This place is a dump. You pick it cause they'd serve yer nigger friend?"

Jess stiffened, but Tate placed a restraining hand on his friend's arm. "We both been called worse, Jess. Let it be—for now," he said, his eyes sending Pardee a clear message.

"You know the job I need done, Pardee. Shannon watches my back. You have a problem with that?"

Pardee raised his big, gnarled hands in mock surrender. "No problem, Robbins. Money's good. I gathered me ten of the best guns between here and the Mexican border."

"I asked for twelve."

Pardee shrugged as the fat, greasy-looking bartender waddled toward them with a grayish towel thrown over his sweat-stained shirt. He set down a glass of whiskey in front of Pardee, then looked at Robbins and Shannon, who had pulled up chairs around the plank table. "Ten of my men are worth twenty of them Wyoming boys," Pardee replied as Jess motioned the barkeep away.

"Since we need to ride this afternoon, I reckon they'd better be," Jess said. "The inside man's left a message for the rustlers. They're going to hit a big herd of beeves in the north basin tonight. We have to be there, hidden and ready to give them a little surprise."

Jess began to oudine his plans for the trap, setting up a crude map for Pardee with the used whiskey glasses he commandeered from surrounding tables.

Pardee nodded when the situation was all laid out. "When do we ride?"

"I don't want to draw attention."

"You still think someone with the Association is mixed up in this, Jess?" Shannon asked. "My money's on Brewster."

"You could be right, Tate, but I'm not taking any chances. That's why I picked this place to meet," he said meaningfully to Pardee. "Have the men ride out a few at a time, heading in different directions, then swing northwest until they pick up the

railroad tracks to Laramie about five miles from here. We'll be waiting."

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