Buchanan 17 by Jonas Ward

Author:Jonas Ward
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: the old west, apache indians, piccadilly publishing, pulp westerns, ebook westerns, william r cox, texas westerns, brian garfield, westerns 1880s, buchanan western series
Publisher: Piccadilly

Nine

Steve Quick had an inborn ability to mimic manners. He stood by the sideboard with a glass in his hand, one finger stuck out and his lips pursed like a rich dude. Warrenrode rolled silently into the big room in his wheelchair, catching Quick by surprise; but if Warrenrode noticed Quick with his private stock of whisky, he gave no sign of it. His look was dry, barren; his shoulders were straight and his voice curt. “No word?”

“Not a thing.”

“Jesus,” Warrenrode cried. Quick could see how much graver he had become, how much more beaten down. It was waiting that did that—waiting and silence and not knowing. Quick’s lip began to curl with secret contempt.

The kitchen door opened. He watched Antonia enter, her skin the color of bronze, heavy breasts bubbling under the thin cotton dress. She said, “Where’ve you been? I’ve waited supper for you.”

“I had a chore in town,” Quick said.

“It would’ve waited, couldn’t it?” Warrenrode snapped. “You were needed around here today.”

“What for? To join the mourning crowd?”

Warrenrode’s head turned slowly, heavily like a tired lion’s. He glared at Antonia. “Maybe love makes a woman blind, but it sure seems to make you see a lot more in this cowboy than I do.”

Quick’s lips pinched into a thin, pale line, but he didn’t say anything. Warrenrode prowled toward the back of the house, thrusting the wheels of his chair with powerful, impatient rolls of his big shoulders. Before he disappeared into the corridor, he said, “’Tonia.”

“What?” Her answer was sullen.

“Stay tough,” Warrenrode muttered. “Don’t ever get sentimental.” He rolled himself out of the room. The door slammed.

Antonia said, “What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’. Don’t pay him no mind. He’s all busted to pieces.”

“You want to eat?”

“Sure, why not?”

Quick followed her into the kitchen and sat down. He watched her put food in front of him. She took the seat across the table. Quick picked at the steak. “What I need is a drink, that’s what I need.”

“You just had one.” He pushed his plate aside and cursed. Antonia said, “Why are you staring at me?”

“You know.”

“Someday I’d like to get inside that clever little brain and find out what you really think.”

“I’m thinking I used to like to leave my women where I found them.”

“You want me to bawl?” she said. “Nobody’s keeping you here.”

“No,” he said. “I ain’t runnin’ out this time. I won’t start at the bottom. I been there, and it’s too crowded.”

“What a shame.”

He said, “Don’t get high and mighty with me, querida. You want to eat beans the rest of your life? You need me as bad as I need you.”

She reached across the table. “Do you mean that, Steve? Do you love me?”

Eyes at odds with his lips, Quick made a smile. “You’re a lot of woman, ’Tonia.”

He got up and walked around the table, lifted her to her feet, and kissed her. Her lips were still and stiff under his; he said, “What’s the matter?”

“I never know when to believe you.

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