Hot Lead, Cold Justice by Mickey Spillane

Author:Mickey Spillane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-03-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

The snow had reached the bottom of the windows of The ranch house kitchen where Willa Cullen served Caleb York scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, and biscuits with honey.

York was back in the clothing that had dried overnight, having retrieved them from the hearth of a fireplace where flames were still working. Willa wore a white bib apron over a tailored dress (likely a ready-made, York figured) the color of her cornflower-blue eyes—straight-cut bodice, high collar, and tapered sleeves. No plaid shirt and denims today—was she painting a picture of the wife she might one day be to him? Had this been contrived to ensnare him? If so, when had a sprung trap felt so comfortable?

She served herself and sat down next to him at the table for four.

They ate in silence for a while, exchanging shy smiles, embarrassed but in no way ashamed. The wind was whistling at the moment, not roaring, and the snowfall seemed to have let up some. Some.

Between bites of eggs, York said, “I guess we’ve moved past it.”

She blinked at him. “Past what?”

“The friendship stage.”

She smiled a little, and he grinned.

Willa got up—was she blushing, and turning her back to him to hide it?—and took the coffeepot from the stove, then refreshed his cup.

At his shoulder, she said, “So what’s next?”

“We’ll both have to mull that. I’m no rancher, and you aren’t cut out for town. So for now . . .”

She leaned in and nibbled at his ear. “Very good friends?”

“Real damn good,” he admitted.

She went back to her chair. “I may not have a ranch after this.”

He shook his head. “You’ll have a ranch. Like you were saying last night, the going may be different, here on out. But it’d take a lot more than a little snow to bring down George Cullen’s daughter.”

She was smiling, picking at her scrambled eggs. “A little snow?”

He forked up some potatoes. “This is New Mexico. There’s gonna be more sun than snow, when the reckoning comes.” He pushed his plate away a few inches. “Afraid I have to get back to Trinidad. Not sure what a sheriff can do to help much, when Nature gets in a mood. But I have to be available.”

Her frown was of concern. “Please tell your deputy I’m thinking of him.”

“I will do that.”

Soon they were at the door. He had a hunch she’d be getting out of that dress that matched her eyes and into her rancher-gal plaid shirt and jeans as soon as he left, but he appreciated the trouble she’d gone to for him. Loving this young woman wasn’t tough at all, and he liked that she had both a hard and soft side. A woman in this country, in such times, needed that.

“I heard coyotes last night,” she said. “Sounded mean and hungry.”

“There were wolves out there, too. Howling like they were tryin’ to sing along with the wind.”

“I heard them.”

He was putting on the long black frock coat. “All manner of predators come out in weather such as this, when their prey’s at its weakest.

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