Halliday 6 by Adam Brady

Author:Adam Brady
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gunfighters, revenge story, claim jumpers, piccadilly publishing, story prompts, pulp westerns, ebook westerns, westerns ebook, westerns 1800s, adam brady westerns
Publisher: Piccadilly

Six – She’s My Girl!

With Sheriff Tarry buried and word left with the townsmen that Rudy Larnard would pay for information concerning the return of Tam O’Rorke or the arrival of Billy Hunt, the three rode out of Yosemite Valley and headed for Armer Fallon’s spread.

They made good time to the foothills and through a stretch of desert before they came to a tall-grassed plain. There were plenty of cattle prints and the occasional hoofmarks of horses.

But there was nothing suspicious enough to cause the three any concern as they checked out the surrounding countryside.

Sundown came and with it a cool wind. Larnard increased the pace and they rode into Armer Fallon’s yard three hours after sundown under a blanket of stars and the wash of a full moon.

Larnard drew rein at the ranch house steps, swung down and brushed himself off carefully, even taking the time to dust the brim of his hat and finger-comb his hair. He pulled his gunbelt higher on his waist and polished the toes of his boots on the back of his pants. Then he stepped up onto the porch.

Seymour made no attempt to come out of the saddle, so Halliday stayed mounted beside him, allowing Larnard the free rein he wanted.

The door opened and a short, bull-necked man of middle-age stepped out. His narrow-set eyes squinted first at Larnard and then he came eagerly forward, his face suddenly brightening.

“Rudy, by hell, you did come! It’s been two weeks since I sent you that letter and even then I wasn’t sure it would get to you.”

Armer Fallon enthusiastically pumped Larnard’s hand before he extended his hand up to Seymour.

“Tom,” he greeted.

“Glad to be back, Armer,” Seymour said with what Halliday recognized as genuine warmth. Then Fallon’s stare swung Halliday’s way.

“I guess you’re a friend of these two, mister. That being so, you’re welcome in my house. I’m Armer Fallon.”

“Buck Halliday,” he told him, shaking the rancher’s hand and finding the cattleman’s grip to be almost as firm as his own.

“Buck, come on down,” Fallon said. “You, too, Tom. Hell, you boys should know by now that I don’t stand on ceremony with my friends. This is a damn good night for me. Later on we’ll get down to business, but first you’ve got to take a sample of my hospitality, all three of you.”

Still beaming, Fallon went back to the doorway and called;

“Lacey, the boys are here. Come on out with a bottle.”

Halliday was coming out of the saddle when he saw movement behind the window halfway along the porch. His gaze traveled that way and met the openly curious look of a young woman as attractive as any he’d ever seen. The hint of a smile played along the curve of her full lips and a sudden shift of her head seemed to imply that Halliday was more than just an object of curiosity to her. Then she disappeared and Seymour, lips pursed, brushed past Halliday, giving him a hard stare. Then the young woman was in the doorway and shaking Larnard’s hand.

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