The Brazos Firebrand by Leslie Scott

Author:Leslie Scott [Scott, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western Fiction
Publisher: Ace Books
Published: 1953-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

Despite old Abe’s avowed enmity for all nesters and all their works, Loring frequently visited the farmers south of the valley. He found that Norma Ray had established herself somewhat west of the farm lands. The farmers banded together and built her a small but comfortable ranchhouse.

Loring offered what assistance he could in getting the place in working order, but was curtly refused.

“She’s sort of set against all big outfits,” Jake Sutton said when Loring discussed the matter with the leader of the farmers. “She holds the Circle Cross, up in the Panhandle, responsible for the death of her father.”

“She shouldn’t hang onto a grudge like that,” Loring said. “After all, it’s not right to—”

He stopped abruptly. He was hardly in a position to moralize on this particular subject.

“She’s mighty shorthanded with just those two old hands riding for her,” he observed.

“That’s right, but reckon she can’t afford to hire any more,” Sutton said. “I’m afraid she’s mighty up against it. But she’s almighty proud and won’t accept any help. Us fellers tried it. Of course we built her a ranchhouse and bunkhouse and so on, but that’s customary in this country, for folks to band together to handle such chores, and she couldn’t very well object. But she won’t take anything more.”

Loring glowered, but didn’t see what he could do about it.

A couple of weeks after his talk with Sutton, Loring had occasion to spend the night in town. After completing his chores, he repaired to Gus Flint’s Ace-Full saloon for something to eat and possibly a hand or two of poker.

The Ace-Full was the biggest and busiest place in town, and the most turbulent, especially on railroad pay nights. Here gathered the railroad builders, miners from the hills to the north, wandering cowboys from the Big Bend ranches, Mexican vaqueros from south of the Rio Grande, and gentlemen who dressed and looked like cowhands but were not, to discuss in frank and manly fashion the topics of the day, sometimes to the cheerful accompaniment of gunsmoke and flashing steel. Sanders had a mayor and a town marshal and the sheriff had his office there. But minor disturbances in the Ace-Full were passed over in deference to the master-mind who sat in the gloomy room back of the general store.

Loring walked into the Ace-Full, glanced idly about the crowded room and abruptly went rigid.

On the cleared dance floor a girl was doing a solo dance, a girl with big blue eyes and tossing brown curls. She was small and slender. Her legs, showing beneath her billowing short skirt glittering with spangles, were slim and shapely. Her feet were amazingly tiny and clad in satin slippers. Her low-cut bodice revealed the proud up-thrust of her young breasts and the snow of her rounded shoulders. Her lips were vividly red and sweetly curved. On the bridge of her little straight nose were three freckles.

Loring stared, his eyes narrowing, his mouth suddenly dry. No, it couldn’t be. But it was. It was Norma Ray.

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