Read Online Slickrock (Gail McCarthy Mystery) by Laura Crum - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Laura Crum
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"And what is it you have against Blue Winter?"
Ted shrugged. "He thinks his shit don't stink."
Belatedly it occurred to me that Ted had had several drinks in the bar and a couple of beers with dinner. He was now more than a little drunk, his straw cowboy hat tipped back on his head, his eyes slightly unfocused, his voice sloppy. There was no way I was going to get a straight answer out of him.
Besides, I thought I could answer my own question. No doubt Ted disliked Blue Winter partly because Ted didn't make any money on him. Blue packed his own horses into the mountains; he didn't use Ted's stock or his crew. And more than that, I imagined that Blue Winter probably didn't kowtow to Ted the way most of the customers did. Ted was a czar in his little fiefdom; he didn't have much use for those who weren't interested in paying homage.
So what's the big deal, I asked myself. You know Ted's that way. What do you care about Blue Winter? You're getting to be a grouch in your old age, Gail.
It was true, kind of. Once again I was getting tired of the situation I was in. I was bored with Ted's gossip and posturing; I wanted out of here. When I was younger I was more patient, more enthralled with the lengthy business of cowboys talking about horses-and other cowboys.
I stood up. "I think I'll go check my horses. Nice to have met you," I said to Dan Jacobi.
He stood up. "Likewise, ma' am."
Lonny stood up, too. ''I'll go with you, Gail"
Ted remained seated and didn't meet my eyes.
Turning, I walked out the back door, Lonny following me. I wished he weren't. I wanted to go into the Sierra night alone, check my horses in peace and solitude.
Well, you will, I told myself silently. You will. You'll be alone soon enough.
EIGHT
Sunday passed uneventfully. I spent it going over my gear, checking my lists, packing the last of my food items. My horses rested, the dog rested, I rested.
Monday morning I was up early. Dressing in the cool, sharp air, I went over my mental lists one more time. Had I forgotten anything? If I had, I would be doing without it. There were no convenience stores, no human habitations of any type, where I was headed.
I selected my clothes with a little more care than usual, thinking not about looks but comfort. Comfort and safety. I picked a soft cotton tank top in dusty brown, a faded sage-green shirt, and some old jeans. I wanted clothes that wouldn't restrict me at all, and in the unlikely event I needed to conceal my presence, would help me blend into the landscape.
The issues to do with being a woman alone had not escaped me when I planned this trip. Of things that were genuinely a threat to me, there were few: rattlesnakes and bears, in the way of animals; lighting and trail accidents, in the line of natural phenomena; and of course, other humans.
The likeliest danger was probably a slip on the slickrock, but I had tried to prepare for other possibilities as well. Were I, for instance, to be camped alone at a lake with a party of drunken men nearby, I wanted to be able to hide if need be. And if that didn't work, to defend myself.
So I had chosen the colors of my clothes with care, and my .357 pistol was at the bottom of my saddlebag, under my rain gear. It wasn't, strictly speaking, legal; however, the law wasn't going to be much help to me where I was going.
I zipped a shelled pile jacket (dark green) over my shirt, and pulled my boots on. Creaking down the stairs, I could feel my heart thumping away, adrenaline rushing into my system. I was getting ready to ride into the mountains alone. For two whole weeks I would be completely on my own, cut off from civilization, dependent on my own resources. I was excited and scared, both at once.
I let Roey out of the camper for a brief run, gave her food and water, and locked her back up, hoping she'd eat as much as possible before we left.
When I got up to the horse corrals, I found that Gunner and Plumber had already been fed. Lonny leaned on the
Ted shrugged. "He thinks his shit don't stink."
Belatedly it occurred to me that Ted had had several drinks in the bar and a couple of beers with dinner. He was now more than a little drunk, his straw cowboy hat tipped back on his head, his eyes slightly unfocused, his voice sloppy. There was no way I was going to get a straight answer out of him.
Besides, I thought I could answer my own question. No doubt Ted disliked Blue Winter partly because Ted didn't make any money on him. Blue packed his own horses into the mountains; he didn't use Ted's stock or his crew. And more than that, I imagined that Blue Winter probably didn't kowtow to Ted the way most of the customers did. Ted was a czar in his little fiefdom; he didn't have much use for those who weren't interested in paying homage.
So what's the big deal, I asked myself. You know Ted's that way. What do you care about Blue Winter? You're getting to be a grouch in your old age, Gail.
It was true, kind of. Once again I was getting tired of the situation I was in. I was bored with Ted's gossip and posturing; I wanted out of here. When I was younger I was more patient, more enthralled with the lengthy business of cowboys talking about horses-and other cowboys.
I stood up. "I think I'll go check my horses. Nice to have met you," I said to Dan Jacobi.
He stood up. "Likewise, ma' am."
Lonny stood up, too. ''I'll go with you, Gail"
Ted remained seated and didn't meet my eyes.
Turning, I walked out the back door, Lonny following me. I wished he weren't. I wanted to go into the Sierra night alone, check my horses in peace and solitude.
Well, you will, I told myself silently. You will. You'll be alone soon enough.
EIGHT
Sunday passed uneventfully. I spent it going over my gear, checking my lists, packing the last of my food items. My horses rested, the dog rested, I rested.
Monday morning I was up early. Dressing in the cool, sharp air, I went over my mental lists one more time. Had I forgotten anything? If I had, I would be doing without it. There were no convenience stores, no human habitations of any type, where I was headed.
I selected my clothes with a little more care than usual, thinking not about looks but comfort. Comfort and safety. I picked a soft cotton tank top in dusty brown, a faded sage-green shirt, and some old jeans. I wanted clothes that wouldn't restrict me at all, and in the unlikely event I needed to conceal my presence, would help me blend into the landscape.
The issues to do with being a woman alone had not escaped me when I planned this trip. Of things that were genuinely a threat to me, there were few: rattlesnakes and bears, in the way of animals; lighting and trail accidents, in the line of natural phenomena; and of course, other humans.
The likeliest danger was probably a slip on the slickrock, but I had tried to prepare for other possibilities as well. Were I, for instance, to be camped alone at a lake with a party of drunken men nearby, I wanted to be able to hide if need be. And if that didn't work, to defend myself.
So I had chosen the colors of my clothes with care, and my .357 pistol was at the bottom of my saddlebag, under my rain gear. It wasn't, strictly speaking, legal; however, the law wasn't going to be much help to me where I was going.
I zipped a shelled pile jacket (dark green) over my shirt, and pulled my boots on. Creaking down the stairs, I could feel my heart thumping away, adrenaline rushing into my system. I was getting ready to ride into the mountains alone. For two whole weeks I would be completely on my own, cut off from civilization, dependent on my own resources. I was excited and scared, both at once.
I let Roey out of the camper for a brief run, gave her food and water, and locked her back up, hoping she'd eat as much as possible before we left.
When I got up to the horse corrals, I found that Gunner and Plumber had already been fed. Lonny leaned on the
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