Read Online Adventures of Cash Laramie and Gideon Miles (Cash Laramie & Gideon Miles Series) by Edward A. Grainger - Free Book Online
Authors: Edward A. Grainger
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prostitute but then seemed to warm to Cash's wide grin. When her gaze locked on the star pinned to his chest, her eyes turned cold again.
"Evening, folks," Cash said, nodding to the couple. "The name's Cash Laramie and this is Miss Lenora—"
Melanie interjected, "This is my Uncle Clem and Aunt Flossy."
The man who towered a good foot over Cash, planted the ax into the wood and wiped his brow with a blue handkerchief. "Clem Stewart." He gave his niece a sidelong look. "What has Melanie done?"
"Nothing," Cash said. "She had a close call in town with the stagecoach and we wanted to make sure she got home safely."
"Well, she's home," Clem stated matter-of-factly.
Cash turned to Melanie. "Little lady, do you mind going inside for a minute, I'd like to talk to your uncle and aunt." He stepped down, walked around the horse, and swung the girl to the ground.
"It sure was nice to meet you, Miss Lenora," Melanie said.
"You too, sweetie."
The girl rushed past her aunt into the house.
Cash strolled over to Clem, pushing his Stetson up on his forehead. "Where did the girl get the marks?"
"What marks?"
"The bruises around her neck." He paused, adding emphasis, "I'm betting a thorough examination would reveal a lot more."
"Exammination," Clem mispronounced as his eyes slashed like whips. "Look gov'ment man, I pay my goddamn taxes for this sad strip of land, minding my own business. I just—"
"Where'd did she get the marks?" Cash interrupted, a darker inflection in his voice.
"She's been learning to ride side saddle and Billy over there bucked her a few times," Flossy said, pointing to a sickly brown mare tied to an oak tree along the creek.
"Cash," Lenora whispered from behind. The lawman turned to see his girlfriend nodding her head toward Melanie who was peeking out and listening from the lone open window.
Cash wheeled back to the tense lines in Clem's face. "We're not done here, Stewart."
* * *
"Cash," Lenora said, "the girl's aunt and uncle were lying."
"I know." Cash guided the horse and buggy along the main stretch leading back into Cheyenne.
"What are you going to do? Talk to Chief Penn?"
"Maybe." Cash thumbed a lucifer afire and lit his cheroot. "I've seen cases like this before. Unless there's proof, nothing will happen. Sometimes even with proof, nothing happens. A child is considered the property of the parent, or in this case, guardian. Stewart is right, a judge or jury 'round here would take a huge disliking to the government sticking in their nose."
Cash angled the buggy to the side of the road as another carriage passed. "But don't worry, I will go back out there to check on Melanie."
Lenora crossed her hand over Cash's stomach and leaned her head against his shoulder. The lights of the city came into view. "Why would anybody hurt a little girl like that?"
Cash's face hardened as he rolled his cheroot to the corner of his mouth. "Because some people just ain't no damn good."
* * *
Cash spent the next day on the second floor balcony of the Beckett Hotel and Saloon where he lived, filling out reports from a recent case the locals had dubbed The Masked Devil. He continued to watch the street when around noon, Melanie appeared with a bucket of flowers. She then began to canvass the street, honing in on lone older women or young couples where the man had a hard time saying no with his young lady present. It was still a hard sell, and, as afternoon gave away to dusk, she still had half a bucket of wilting flowers left.
He figured she couldn't have made much. She dumped the rest of the flowers and water on the ground and began singing as she twirled the bucket and sauntered off toward home.
Cash collected his pinto at the livery and followed Melanie from a distance. The girl seemed in no particular hurry, skipping stones along the creek and chasing fireflies before finally arriving after dark.
Cash had inquired around town about Clem and Flossy Stewart. They had traveled from Northern California where
"Evening, folks," Cash said, nodding to the couple. "The name's Cash Laramie and this is Miss Lenora—"
Melanie interjected, "This is my Uncle Clem and Aunt Flossy."
The man who towered a good foot over Cash, planted the ax into the wood and wiped his brow with a blue handkerchief. "Clem Stewart." He gave his niece a sidelong look. "What has Melanie done?"
"Nothing," Cash said. "She had a close call in town with the stagecoach and we wanted to make sure she got home safely."
"Well, she's home," Clem stated matter-of-factly.
Cash turned to Melanie. "Little lady, do you mind going inside for a minute, I'd like to talk to your uncle and aunt." He stepped down, walked around the horse, and swung the girl to the ground.
"It sure was nice to meet you, Miss Lenora," Melanie said.
"You too, sweetie."
The girl rushed past her aunt into the house.
Cash strolled over to Clem, pushing his Stetson up on his forehead. "Where did the girl get the marks?"
"What marks?"
"The bruises around her neck." He paused, adding emphasis, "I'm betting a thorough examination would reveal a lot more."
"Exammination," Clem mispronounced as his eyes slashed like whips. "Look gov'ment man, I pay my goddamn taxes for this sad strip of land, minding my own business. I just—"
"Where'd did she get the marks?" Cash interrupted, a darker inflection in his voice.
"She's been learning to ride side saddle and Billy over there bucked her a few times," Flossy said, pointing to a sickly brown mare tied to an oak tree along the creek.
"Cash," Lenora whispered from behind. The lawman turned to see his girlfriend nodding her head toward Melanie who was peeking out and listening from the lone open window.
Cash wheeled back to the tense lines in Clem's face. "We're not done here, Stewart."
* * *
"Cash," Lenora said, "the girl's aunt and uncle were lying."
"I know." Cash guided the horse and buggy along the main stretch leading back into Cheyenne.
"What are you going to do? Talk to Chief Penn?"
"Maybe." Cash thumbed a lucifer afire and lit his cheroot. "I've seen cases like this before. Unless there's proof, nothing will happen. Sometimes even with proof, nothing happens. A child is considered the property of the parent, or in this case, guardian. Stewart is right, a judge or jury 'round here would take a huge disliking to the government sticking in their nose."
Cash angled the buggy to the side of the road as another carriage passed. "But don't worry, I will go back out there to check on Melanie."
Lenora crossed her hand over Cash's stomach and leaned her head against his shoulder. The lights of the city came into view. "Why would anybody hurt a little girl like that?"
Cash's face hardened as he rolled his cheroot to the corner of his mouth. "Because some people just ain't no damn good."
* * *
Cash spent the next day on the second floor balcony of the Beckett Hotel and Saloon where he lived, filling out reports from a recent case the locals had dubbed The Masked Devil. He continued to watch the street when around noon, Melanie appeared with a bucket of flowers. She then began to canvass the street, honing in on lone older women or young couples where the man had a hard time saying no with his young lady present. It was still a hard sell, and, as afternoon gave away to dusk, she still had half a bucket of wilting flowers left.
He figured she couldn't have made much. She dumped the rest of the flowers and water on the ground and began singing as she twirled the bucket and sauntered off toward home.
Cash collected his pinto at the livery and followed Melanie from a distance. The girl seemed in no particular hurry, skipping stones along the creek and chasing fireflies before finally arriving after dark.
Cash had inquired around town about Clem and Flossy Stewart. They had traveled from Northern California where
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