Read Online Buck and the Widow Rancher (2006) by Carlton Youngblood - Free Book Online
Authors: Carlton Youngblood
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telling me. I really appreciate your advancing the money. Thank you.’
‘What do you plan to do about the gambler’s IOU? Idoubt if that kind of debt is legal, if you just wanted to tell the gambler to forget it.’
Matilda rode for a while without speaking. ‘I suppose I could turn my back on it, but what would that do to the ranch’s reputation? No, I guess I’ll have to make good on it. By the way, what are you going to do about the sheriff telling you not to come back into town?’
‘Oh, I guess I’ll just ignore it. That wire has to be sent and I think I’ll ask about having the state send a marshal over, a real lawman,’ he said with a bark of laughter. ‘Anyway, this big footed horse of mine has a shoe that needs replacing.’
The telegraph office was in the hotel and while Buck sent his two messages Matilda sat at a table in the restaurant having a late lunch. Joining her, Buck ordered a cup of coffee and sat back to enjoy her company.
‘That should get delivered this afternoon or maybe tomorrow morning. Your note is due when – Friday? That’ll give us three or four more days. I’ll have to come back in early Friday morning and pick up the draft. Somehow I don’t think Banker Blount will like it much, but he’ll have to accept it.’
‘You’ll be repaid once the herd is sold,’ she smiled, and then looking over Buck’s shoulder let the smile fade. ‘Here comes Sheriff Holt, Buck.’
‘Well, you don’t care who you are seen with do you, Miz Randle?’ Holt said self-importantly as he came close to the seated couple. ‘Didn’t I tell you that you’re not welcome, cowboy? The good people here don’t want killers and backshooters dirtying up their town.’
Buck finished taking a sip of coffee and then, placing the cup carefully in its saucer, looked up at the round-faced lawman. ‘Sheriff Holt,’ he said, his voice hard and loud enough for others to hear every word, ‘this is the only warning you’re likely to get. Call the wrong man a killer or a backshooter and you’re liable to have to eat the words. Now, if you can prove your statement, let’s have it. If not, be careful .’
The man’s face blanched at Buck’s words, his small, beady eyes standing out in his soft-looking face. Before he could respond, Buck stood up, towering over the man, his eyes cold. ‘Can you back up your words, or not? If you can’t, you’d better be making tracks out of my sight before I get real mad.’
Buck’s fierce look convinced the sheriff who quickly turned and all but ran for the door. Matilda laughed at the sight of the pompous man’s departure. The other customers in the place, smiling or not at the sheriff’s retreat, hastily turned back to their own business.
‘You have made an enemy, you know. Holt has been the town’s sheriff for a long time. I think it’s because nobody else will take the job. He may be ridiculous, but he is a proud man. Watch out for him, Buck.’
‘I guess I’m a little irritated that someone like him has any authority. His not bothering to look into your husband’s death should have the voters checking their hole card. One of the telegrams I sent was to the governor’s office asking for a marshal to be sent in. That may make our sheriff even angrier.’
Paying for the lunch and his coffee, Buck left Matilda who wanted to make some purchases at the general store. Untying the big black horse, he swung into the saddle and headed down the street to the stable and the blacksmith’s forge behind it. The smithy was hard at it, hammering with strong blows the red-hot end of a horseshoe against the massive anvil. Sweat poured off the man as he swung the hammer with a clang, flattening out the shoe. Not quite as tall as Buck, the black-haired smith was bigger in almost every way. His chest, only covered by a black leather vest, was broad and muscular. Arms the size of some men’s thighsflexed as he raised the five-pound hammer only to bring it back down
‘What do you plan to do about the gambler’s IOU? Idoubt if that kind of debt is legal, if you just wanted to tell the gambler to forget it.’
Matilda rode for a while without speaking. ‘I suppose I could turn my back on it, but what would that do to the ranch’s reputation? No, I guess I’ll have to make good on it. By the way, what are you going to do about the sheriff telling you not to come back into town?’
‘Oh, I guess I’ll just ignore it. That wire has to be sent and I think I’ll ask about having the state send a marshal over, a real lawman,’ he said with a bark of laughter. ‘Anyway, this big footed horse of mine has a shoe that needs replacing.’
The telegraph office was in the hotel and while Buck sent his two messages Matilda sat at a table in the restaurant having a late lunch. Joining her, Buck ordered a cup of coffee and sat back to enjoy her company.
‘That should get delivered this afternoon or maybe tomorrow morning. Your note is due when – Friday? That’ll give us three or four more days. I’ll have to come back in early Friday morning and pick up the draft. Somehow I don’t think Banker Blount will like it much, but he’ll have to accept it.’
‘You’ll be repaid once the herd is sold,’ she smiled, and then looking over Buck’s shoulder let the smile fade. ‘Here comes Sheriff Holt, Buck.’
‘Well, you don’t care who you are seen with do you, Miz Randle?’ Holt said self-importantly as he came close to the seated couple. ‘Didn’t I tell you that you’re not welcome, cowboy? The good people here don’t want killers and backshooters dirtying up their town.’
Buck finished taking a sip of coffee and then, placing the cup carefully in its saucer, looked up at the round-faced lawman. ‘Sheriff Holt,’ he said, his voice hard and loud enough for others to hear every word, ‘this is the only warning you’re likely to get. Call the wrong man a killer or a backshooter and you’re liable to have to eat the words. Now, if you can prove your statement, let’s have it. If not, be careful .’
The man’s face blanched at Buck’s words, his small, beady eyes standing out in his soft-looking face. Before he could respond, Buck stood up, towering over the man, his eyes cold. ‘Can you back up your words, or not? If you can’t, you’d better be making tracks out of my sight before I get real mad.’
Buck’s fierce look convinced the sheriff who quickly turned and all but ran for the door. Matilda laughed at the sight of the pompous man’s departure. The other customers in the place, smiling or not at the sheriff’s retreat, hastily turned back to their own business.
‘You have made an enemy, you know. Holt has been the town’s sheriff for a long time. I think it’s because nobody else will take the job. He may be ridiculous, but he is a proud man. Watch out for him, Buck.’
‘I guess I’m a little irritated that someone like him has any authority. His not bothering to look into your husband’s death should have the voters checking their hole card. One of the telegrams I sent was to the governor’s office asking for a marshal to be sent in. That may make our sheriff even angrier.’
Paying for the lunch and his coffee, Buck left Matilda who wanted to make some purchases at the general store. Untying the big black horse, he swung into the saddle and headed down the street to the stable and the blacksmith’s forge behind it. The smithy was hard at it, hammering with strong blows the red-hot end of a horseshoe against the massive anvil. Sweat poured off the man as he swung the hammer with a clang, flattening out the shoe. Not quite as tall as Buck, the black-haired smith was bigger in almost every way. His chest, only covered by a black leather vest, was broad and muscular. Arms the size of some men’s thighsflexed as he raised the five-pound hammer only to bring it back down
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