The Devil to Pay by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pinnacle Books
Published: 2018-03-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“The dog ate the gingerbread, licked his lips, and smiled,” Kate said.

“Dogs don’t smile, not really,” Frank Cobb said.

“Believe me, this one smiles, really,” Kate said.

“I’d smile too if Doña Maria Ana let me rest my head on her lap and fed me gingerbread,” Trace Kerrigan said.

Kate frowned at her son. “Trace, do you know that every time a young man has an impure thought, Our Lady sheds a tear?”

Frank grinned. “She must cry buckets around this place.”

Kate’s frown deepened. “And she also weeps when a certain segundo makes fun of her.”

Frank let that go. “All right. Tell us about it. I mean, all of it.”

“I’ve already told you all there is to tell,” Kate said.

“Did you recognize either of them?”

“Of course not.”

Trace squirmed in his chair as the parlor rapidly filled with dusk shadows. “Where was that Aragon feller?”

“Maria Ana left him at home.” Kate glanced out the window into the growing darkness. “Winifred is neglecting her duty. It’s time to light the lamps.”

“I wish I’d been there,” Frank Cobb said.

“If wishes were fishes starving men would dine.” Kate smiled. “I’m sorry, Frank, I’m being silly. I wish you’d been there, too.”

“The wounded man needs a doctor, so I doubt he’ll return,” Frank said. “But just to be sure, I’ll have the hands take turns to watch the house for the next few nights.” He leaned forward in his chair. “How did the shoulder hold up?”

“Fine,” Kate said. “It’s a bit stiff now, but not as painful as it’s been.”

What lay unspoken between her and Frank was a date for the vengeance ride. Trace was also aware that the subject crouched in a dark corner like a black dog.

The entry of Winifred, a lighted spill in her hand, banished the topic, at least for now.

As the maid began to light the lamps, Kate rose to her feet. “I feel like I was born in riding clothes. I must bathe and change before dinner.”

Frank and Trace followed her lead and stood.

Frank said, “Kate, you done good today. Where is Maria Ana?”

“Playing with her dog, I guess.”

“She stood up, held her ground,” Frank said. “You told us that.”

Kate nodded. “Yes, she did. She’s got spunk.”

Frank smiled. “That lowdown border trash must be sorry they met up with two such formidable ladies.”

“Well, one of them is for sure,” Kate said.

* * *

Against her better judgment, but because Mrs. Kerrigan had experienced such a traumatic day, Jazmine Salas cooked boiled salt pork and cabbage for dinner, Kate’s favorite dish from the old country. She accompanied what Kate praised as “a fine feast indeed” with a silky parsley sauce and glasses of Irish stout from a fresh barrel.

Predictably, Maria Ana was horrified, but after tasting the dish, her face lit up, and she said to Jazmine, “My compliments to the chef. This is even better than your gingerbread.” She also waxed eloquent about the bread and butter pudding with Irish whisky sauce that followed and insisted that her precious Toro should have a taste.

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