Read Online Hunt Angel! (A Frank Angel Western #5) by Frederick H. Christian - Free Book Online Page A

once,
unexpectedly, he found himself feeling like a pernickety old maid
and he asked her a question, working on the shaving soap with the
brush to get a good lather.
    ‘ A little over seven years,’ she
said. ‘Hal and I came out here in the spring of ‘70.’
    ‘ Hal?’
    ‘ My husband. He died four years
ago.’
    ‘ I’m sorry.’
    ‘ No need to be,’ she said. She
gathered up her shoulders slightly, the movement not so much
indicating that she didn’t care about the subject as that she
preferred not to dig up old bones, backtrack to the
past.
    ‘ He wasn’t . . . Hal never really
liked this country,’ she said quietly.
    ‘ But you do?’
    ‘ I love it,’ she said
passionately. ‘I love the space of it, the wildness. Or rather, I
used to.’
    ‘ Until?’ He worked busily with the
razor, keeping his eyes averted, not looking at her in the mirror
over the washstand.
    ‘ Until lately,’ she said flatly.
‘Believe it or not this town used to be a pretty nice place to
live. Kids playing in the street. Farmers coming in on weekends to
do their shopping, gossip around. We had a produce market on
Saturdays. Lots of people. Lots of laughter. Now . . . well, you’ve
seen it.’
    ‘ What happened?’ he
asked.
    ‘ Larry Hugess happened is what
happened,’ she said. ‘His hired thugs drove all the smaller farmers
and ranchers out. One by one, they pulled stakes and moved on.
Usually with a Flying H escort.’
    ‘ Didn’t anybody put up a
fight?’
    ‘ Oh, one or two. But it was no
use. They couldn’t face down hired guns - they weren’t that sort of
people. Hugess claimed they fenced off water his cattle needed.
Eminent domain, he called it. First come, first served.’
    ‘ What about the Law?’
    ‘ The US Marshal is in Winslow,’
she said. ‘That’s around fifty-four miles away. Even if he was
there on tap, waiting for us to call on him, which of course he
isn’t. He’s got a pretty big bailiwick, Angel.’
    ‘ Frank,’ he corrected her,
thinking, yes, she was right. The US Marshal patrolled an area that
was about the size of Delaware. To do it he had the help of two
deputies. That wasn’t exactly what you’d call a deterrent to
crime.
    ‘ How many men has Hugess got on
his payroll?’ he asked.
    ‘ Thirty, thirty-five,’ she
replied.’ It’s hard to say - there are always some new faces coming
in, others moving on.’
    ‘ Yeah,’ Angel said. ‘I met some of
the boys. That Willie Johns. He’s a mean one.’
    ‘ He is!’ she said
vehemently.
    ‘ Personal experience?’
    She gave a theatrical shudder.
‘Uhhhhh,’ she went. ‘He comes in here sometimes. Once he - he put
his hands on me.’ She tossed her bright hair as if getting rid of a
dark thought. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘How about some
breakfast?’
    ‘ I could use some,’ he said. ‘Will
you join me?’
    ‘ Pooh,’ Sherry Hardin laughed. ‘I
had breakfast hours ago. But I’ll sit and have some coffee with
you.’
    She turned and held the door open
and he bowed to her with a smile and did one of those ‘after
you, Alphonse gestures. She was very close and he could smell a faint, clean
perfume. Her eyes were smiling as he looked down at her. He was
standing near enough to feel the warm glow of her body and he
stifled the sudden impulse to touch her. A quick light in her eyes
told him that she had sensed his impulse and there was a quick lift
of the corners of her mouth. Her lips were slightly parted, soft,
warm. He pushed her shoulder.
    ‘ G’wan,’ he said, mock growling.
‘I smell coffee.’
    She ducked her head and went out
into the corridor ahead of him. He couldn’t see her face but he bet
himself she was smiling, with perhaps a faint touch of triumph in
the expression. She had a good walk and Angel watched the sensuous
movement of her hips with pleasure. One of life’s sheerest
enjoyments was watching a healthy, beautiful woman walk. As if she
sensed his gaze she turned her head and smiled impishly over