The Man from Del Rio by Peter McCurtin

Author:Peter McCurtin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wild west, cowboys, old west, gunfighters, outlaws, western pulp, western frontier fiction, jack slade, lassiter, peter mccurtin
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Chapter Eight

In the morning, Lassiter saw to it that Ellen was out of his blanket with the first gray glimmer of dawn. The sun came up quickly in these mountains, heating up the rocks before the morning was hardly begun. They breakfasted quickly and Lassiter had just mounted the Appaloosa when he heard the reverend’s sonorous voice talking to the captain but taking them all in.

“In view of yesterday, Captain, I’d feel a lot safer riding along with you wherever you’re going,” the minister said. “Those poor souls have yet to learn the way of righteousness.”

“I’d insist, Reverend,” Captain Dodd said. “I, for one, welcome the comfort of having a man of the cloth along.”

Lassiter’s patience with the captain was long exhausted but he only grinned thinly and wheeled the Appaloosa around. He wondered if the captain really knew what had kept him alive this long. Ellen swung in beside him and she’d put on a thin, lightweight cotton blouse, sleeveless, that rested delicately on her full breasts. He thought of how they’d felt cupped in his hands last night and grinned down at her. Her eyes, darkened and brooding, returned the grin with an angry stare.

“All right, so you were right about last night,” she said, her voice low, husky. “It only made things worse.”

“Just think about how much you’re going to enjoy next time,” he grinned. “And shut up. I’ve got some important things to figure out.”

He turned his mind from the tantalizing creature riding alongside him and did a fast spot-check on where everybody was. Trooper Beaton was riding with the captain. Montes, Davis and Trooper Smith were clustered together. Reverend Herbert came up behind, alone, reading from his Bible as he rode. Lassiter felt his skin itching and he watched the captain intently. The man was scanning every cluster of boulders, now, frowning, pausing a moment before riding on as he’d pass a particular spot. Time was drawing near, Lassiter knew, and he realized that he’d been thinking too much about who among them was going to be the one. He had to give some thought to his own problem, namely how the hell to move all those heavy chests of silver alone. More and more he began to think that he’d have to ride herd on the stuff as they started back and watch for a spot to make his move. But that plan didn’t really sit too well as he gave it more thought. What if he didn’t find a spot? Or what if they picked up more freeloaders on the way back to complicate matters more? He discarded the idea and searched for another. He shot a look at Ellen Kinder. What if he could convince the girl that the only safe way to assure the silver getting back to Daddy was for them to make off with it? She wanted him bad, real bad, and a woman in that state wants to believe anything a man tells her. But that would still be only the two of them, he mused.

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