Blood Valley (Blood Valley 1) by Johnstone William W
Author:Johnstone, William W. [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp
Published: 2012-08-07T07:00:00+00:00
I didnât sleep too good that night. Done a lot of tossinâ and turninâ, with my head filled with boyhood memories about me and Jack and our ma and pa and all the other younguns. I wondered what had become of them. Were they doinâ all right? Had they married and settled down? Did they have families and all that went with that?
Iâd sleep a while and then wake up and start to thinkinâ again. And all my thoughts had Pepper all mixed up in them.
I pulled out before dawn, after Pepper fixed me breakfastâshe really could cookâand then give me a promise-of-things-to-come kiss right on the mouth. I rode Pronto into the darkness, headinâ for town.
The night past, weâd all gathered up in the fancy sittinâ room and Iâd told them all about my childhood, and all that I could remember about brother Jack.
âForgive me for saying this, Cotton,â Rolf said. âBut this Jack appears to be the carrier of the bad seed in your family.â
He was sure right. I couldnât deny that.
âAinât nothinâ to forgive when a person is right, Mister Baker. And youâre sure right. Now that Iâm a man grown, and lookinâ back, I an see where a lot of the things Jack done was just lowdown dirty mean.â
All that was on my mind as I rode into the spreading silver dawninâ of the day. But I wasnât dwellinâ just on that. A good part of me was on the high alert for any trouble that might be hidinâ in the shadows.
But all my attention to danger was for naught, and when I rode into town, the streets and boardwalks of Doubtful was quiet and empty of anything except for a few dogs and cats. I rode slowly to the stable and put up Pronto. I told him to stay calm and donât kick no slats out of his stall.
Pronto, he shoved me back up against the stall and tried to bite me.
The gimp-legged man had just opened his cafe as I walked up the boardwalk. Noddinâ my good morninâs, I took me a table by a window and ordered coffee and breakfast.
Pretty soon, Rusty come walkinâ up the way, his spurs jinglinâ. He spotted me and joined me at the table.
Rusty, he ordered breakfast and coffee, and over coffee, I asked, âAnything interestinâ happen while I was gone, Rusty?â
âYou might say that.â He sugared and creamed his coffee and stirred. âBuck Hargon, Doc Martin, and that Canadian gunfighter, Sangamon, rode in. Theyâre over to the hotel.â
âLeast itâs slowed down to a trickle. Hell, Rusty, there canât be that many more gunslingers thatâs out there out of work.â
âYeah.â His reply was glum. âAnd for a fact, Jack Crow is cominâ in. He was spotted a few days ago near the Salt River Range.â
âThen heâll be in any day now.â
âYeah. Sheriff, do you realize theyâs more than fifty known gunhands now in the valley?â
âI know.â
The cafe man brung us our food and for a time, we concentrated on eatinâ.
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