Butte Bloodbath (A Gatling Western #6) by Jack Slade

Author:Jack Slade [Slade, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: action hero, American frontier, Colt.45, ebook, fiction, Gatling, gunfighters, Peter McCurtin, Piccadilly cowboys, Pulp fiction writing, the Old West, Western series
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2023-05-31T23:00:00+00:00

Later, after she shuddered all over for the third time and Gatling let go, she lay back panting and didn’t say anything for a long time. Then she giggled and said, “You sure know how to give a woman what she wants. I always say quiet men make the best ... I mean they know what they can do so they don’t have to brag about it.”

“You’d make any man come to life,” Gatling said gallantly.

“I’m just a country girl.” Now they were lying side by side on the narrow cot. She played with the hairs on his chest. “Ethan, will you fetch the bottle?”

Gatling got the bottle and the cup, but all she wanted was the bottle. “I know,” she said. “None for you because you get too wild.” She tilted the bottle and drank from it. “I’d like to be with you when you’ve had a few drinks. I’ll bet you’re glad I came to see you tonight, but you must think me awful brash.”

“No such thing. I like a woman that’s honest about her feelings.”

“You say that nice, Ethan.” She took another drink. “I like you, Ethan. You must know I do.”

“Sure thing.” Gatling was thirsty and wanted a beer, warm or not, but he stayed where he was. He figured she was leading up to something. It came quicker than he expected.

“I wouldn’t want anybody to do you harm, so what I’m going to say is said out of true friendship. I don’t want you to get panicky because of what I tell you, but I have to tell you that policeman Fallon has been asking questions about you.”

“Fallon the sergeant? Why would he want to do that?”

Molly pushed his hand away from her breast. “Stop that and listen. Shush now. Listen.” Gatling nodded. “Good,” she said. “Fallon has been checking up on you ever since you got here. If he isn’t asking me, he’s asking the room clerks. What time do you go in and out? Do you ever have visitors? I’ve seen him talking to Jules, the Frenchman who has charge of the dining room. Watch out for both of them. They’re as thick as thieves. All these questions, what do you think it means?”

Gatling shifted his weight, trying to get more comfortable. Iron slats dug up through the thin mattress; the blankets under him smelled of stale sweat. Molly didn’t seem to notice.

“Beats me,” Gatling said. “I’m just a gunsmith and storekeeper trying to make a living. Why should that call for questions? I did kill that man Zell, but everybody in town knows it was self-defense. If the Chief didn’t believe that, why did he let me go?”

“Maybe he let you go so they could watch you.” Molly finished the pint and let the bottle drop to the floor. It didn’t break. She smelled of whiskey and cologne and sex sweat. “I can’t think of anything else, Ethan.”

Gatling shifted again; the goddamned cot was killing him. “It doesn’t make sense,” he said. “The Chief said he was going to check me back to Kansas City.

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