Read Online I'm Off to Montana for to Throw the Hoolihan (Code of the West) by Stephen Bly - Free Book Online Page B

howl. All in one motion, Tap grabbed the other man’s hair and yanked his head down until the .44 was jammed into his ear.
    “Angelita, grab that pistol. Now you boys aren’t quite through talkin’.”
    “What do you think you’re doin’, mister? You’re interferin’ in somethin’ ain’t your business.”
    “Oh, it’s my business. Miss Selena is a personal friend of mine.” Tap kept his gun at the man’s head. His partner clutched a badly bruised wrist.
    “Shoot, she’s a personal friend to ever’ man between the Rockies and the Pacific. She ain’t nothin’ more than a common—”
    Tap pulled the hammer of his revolver back two clicks. “Choose your next word very carefully, mister. Now what were you goin’ to call her?”
    “Eh, she’s a . . . a, eh . . .”
    “What’s goin’ on here?” a voice shouted from the doo rway.
    Tap turned to see a wide-shouldered man toting a sho tgun and wearing a sheriff’s badge.
    “This drifter drew his gun on us,” Bean complained, still clutching his wrist.
    “Put your gun down, mister,” the sheriff shouted.
    “These men insulted this lady. I will not holster my gun until they apologize,” Tap asserted.
    “Did they insult you, ma’am?”
    “Yes, they did.”
    “Then you better apologize to the lady or else I’ll just make my rounds and leave you with this hombre.”
    The men glanced at each other.
    “He said apologize,” Tap growled.
    “Sorry, ma’am," Bean blurted out. "must have mi stook you for someone else. Didn’t we, Jackson?”
    The one with Tap’s gun shoved in his ear nodded slightly. “Yeah.”
    “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Selena demanded.
    Tap released his grip on Jackson. “Give him his pistol, A ngelita.”
    “I was hoping to sell it at the depot for four dollars,” she gru mbled, handing it back to the man.
    “Four? I paid sixteen cash dollars for this outfit.”
    “What a waste.” Angelita shrugged.
    “Come on, you two .  . . out of the hotel,” the sheriff commanded.
    “We’ll be around town, mister,” Jackson hissed to Tap. “We aim to see you again.”
    “That would be a great mistake,” Tap assured him.
    When the two men had left, the sheriff confronted Tap. “Mister, I don’t know who you are, but I don’t want any tro uble out of you. Leave that .44 in the holster. If you have difficulty, you come look me up. But if you start pullin’ that gun ever’ time you walk into a building, I’ll have you locked up within the hour. Do you savvy?”
    “Yeah, I understand. But if those two come after me with drawn guns, I’m goin’ to protect myself—and these wome nfolk.”
    “I’ll do the protectin’ around here,” the sheriff insisted.
    Tap jammed the revolver back into his holster.
    The restaurant at the England House did not list lobster on the bill of fare. Selena, Angelita, and Tap sat at a corner table and fi nished a meal of beefsteak, boiled red potatoes, gravy, and beets. The coffee was pitch-black and thick. It took Tap three cups before he decided he liked it.
    Selena listened as Tap explained the situation at the ranch and Lorenzo’s broken leg.
    “This is the dumbest thing I ever heard of. He’s out there getting into trouble. I’m in here and trouble is searching me out. Why aren’t we together? Why did we have to wait for this wedding?”
    “Because it’s the proper way to do things,” Tap reminded her.
    “Why do I need to do things proper?”
    “Because you are no longer the Selena those two old boys are lookin’ for, right?”
    Selena’s dark eyes blazed, and then a smile broke across her smooth but seasoned face. “Okay, Andrews. You win. This time. Besides, I only have to wait until tomorrow. Not much can go wrong between now and then.”
    Tap glanced at Angelita. She raised her thick black ey ebrows and rolled her eyes.
    After the meal, Tap walked Selena and Angelita back to the New York Hotel. Then he proceeded to survey the town on foot. It