Shoot-Out at Whiskey Springs by Jake Logan

Author:Jake Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

11

The dusk came on suddenly, plunging the road into shadow, blurring all the landmarks, blotting out the sky as if someone had flung ink onto it. Slocum was surprised to see the dark come on so quickly, and with it, a chill that seeped through his skin and into his bones.

“It’s just up ahead,” Lucy said, as if reading his thoughts.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Slocum said.

“I know. We just barely made it. But we won’t have any trouble. I know the way.”

She guided her horse off the road and they descended into an even darker place, almost a gully, but it was nestled up close to the mountain on their right. To the left, he could barely discern a wide, yucca-and-pinyon-tree-studded valley. The Joshua trees looked like figures or statues of men.

“We’ll have to build a fire right away,” Lucy said. “There should be wood there.”

She rode on a little farther and then dismounted, tying her reins to a small tree that he thought might have been an alder. He followed suit, dismounting and finding a place to tie the horses until he could hobble them for the night. He heard a bubbling sound and saw that Lucy had walked a little way ahead and was squatting down.

“This,” she said, “is Whiskey Springs.”

Slocum walked over and saw where the springs bubbled up out of the rock. As he looked down, Lucy leaned over and lifted a large flat rock. She pulled something out and held it up in the fast-waning light.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Lucy laughed. “Take a swig,” she said, handing him the object.

Slocum took the bottle, pulled the cork from it and lowered his head to sniff its contents. The pungent aroma of straight whiskey wafted to his nostrils. It smelled good and his mouth watered even as his throat felt suddenly dry.

“Whiskey,” he said.

“Go,” Lucy said, “take a swallow. That’s what it’s here for.”

Slocum poured some of the whiskey into his mouth, held it there for a moment as he savored its flavor. Then, he swallowed and felt its warmth spread through his belly.

“That’s good bourbon,” he said. “Did you leave it here?”

“No, but I’ve got a fresh bottle in my saddlebags that I bought in Victor. May I have a swallow?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Sure.” Slocum handed her the bottle and watched as Lucy took a healthy swig.

“That’s why they call this place ‘Whiskey Springs,’ ” she said. “Travelers going up and down the mountain always leave a bottle of whiskey here for the next visitor. In the cold months, many a prospector has welcomed this gift from a stranger.”

“It’s a good custom,” Slocum said and took another swallow after Lucy handed the bottle back to him. With that, he began to strip his two horses of saddles and hobbled them as Lucy gathered firewood. Soon, they had a good, small fire going that helped to ward off the chill flowing down the mountain and into their small canyon.

Lucy laid out their bedrolls and made a pot of coffee, boiled dried beef and vegetables in a small pot.

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