Hangtown Hellcat by Jon Sharpe

Author:Jon Sharpe [Sharpe, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Westerns, General
ISBN: 9781101604571
Google: 5uPOP4nPpVMC
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2013-05-07T04:00:00+00:00

10

Fargo, worn out after his pleasant interlude with Jasmine, was just entering the Land of Nod when a hot string of curses jolted him awake.

“The hell’s your beef?” he snapped at Buckshot, who had just returned to the room.

“That crazy, highfalutin bitch, that’s what. And me thinking she wanted to play bury the picket pin.”

Fargo chuckled. “There’s a saying among poker players: If you look around the table and can’t find the chump, it’s probably you.”

“Sing it, brother. All she done was prod me with questions mostly ’bout you. That high-hatting little bitch.”

Fargo rose up on one elbow. “Keep your voice down. What questions?”

“Was you really a ‘knight in buckskins’ like some of them ink slingers say. Did you ever break the law, do you bitch about being poor, do you ever talk ’bout what you’d do if you ever come into money, have you ever outright murdered anybody, shit like that.”

“Hunh. How’d you play it?”

Buckshot yanked his boots off, still muttering curses. “Just like me and you planned it. I told her the newspaper stories was swamp gas. I said me and you done some smuggling and how we sold guns to warpath Injins and such. And if she asks you, you gunned down a sheriff in Arkansas after he caught you selling whiskey to Choctaws.”

“Sounds like you laid it on pretty thick, hoss.”

“At least pretend I ain’t a soft brain. I told her the sheriff was crooked as cat shit, and how you was mostly a straight arrow but now and then you got bucked off the straight and narrow path when temptation got the best of you—’specially when a comely lass was in the mix.”

“Well, she’s mighty sharp,” Fargo said. “Maybe she saw right through you and maybe she didn’t. Anyhow, it’s a good sign for us that she asked all those questions—sounds like she’s thinking about cutting us into her operation. Or maybe it was all a smoke screen just to keep us guessing. Did she feel you out, too?”

“Yup. Asked me flat out if I was tired of the penny-ante game. I told her I was like most men drifting around the West—willing to do most anything if it wouldn’t get me jugged or hanged.”

“Sounds like you played the best hand you could. But we can’t look too eager to throw in with her—we have to let her nudge us a little, make her think we’ll fall, all right, but only with a little push.”

Buckshot suddenly sniffed the air. “Damn your bones, Fargo! I wunnered where Jasmine disappeared to. You trimmed her while I was dickin’ around with them little Chinee tiles—I can smell the woman scent.”

Fargo grinned. “If a ripe apple falls off the tree, I eat it.”

“Uh-huh. Was the apple any good?”

“Never mind that. Any idea where our weapons might be?”

“I looked around best I could but couldn’t see no hiding places. I’d wager them two dickless yacks got ’em somewheres in their room.”

“Distinct possibility,” Fargo agreed. “Now get some shut-eye. I got a hunch we’re gonna need it.

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