Longarm and the Counterfeit Corpse

“Thanks,” Longarm said.

“You gonna try and kill Buck?”

“Nope,” Longarm said as he headed into the muddy street, “not unless he tries to kill me first.”

“He will!” Waite called. “The Zollivers hate lawmen!

“I’ll keep that in mind!” Longarm called back as he marched back toward the hotel with his hand not far from his gun.

Chapter 12

“I’m scared,” Diana said, watching as Longarm checked his gun. “What if you get killed?”

“Then make sure that the federal government gives me a decent burial,” Longarm said, trying hard to sound lighthearted. “But don’t let them bury me in this hellhole of a town.”

“I’m serious!” Diana wailed.

“So am I.”

Satisfied that his gun was ready and that the derringer he kept attached to his watch chain was also in good working order, Longarm went to the woman and tried to calm her fears.

“There’s no real danger in this,” he began, “because-“

“No danger! Custis, you said that entire saloons full of hard men emptied at the mere sight of Buck Zolliver.”

“All right, so he’s on the prod,” Longarm conceded, “but I have all the advantages because he doesn’t know that I’m a lawman. And besides, all that I really want to do is question the man. I mean, to my knowledge, he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“His brother was gunned down! He’s after the same man we’re after.”

“That’s not against the law,” Longarm said.

Diana heaved a deep sigh. “Can’t we just leave in the morning without you questioning this brute?”

“No,” Longarm said. “Because if we did that, then he’d be on our backtrail and I’d always be looking over my shoulder. I need to know where he stands before we leave Whiskey Creek.”

“He stands to kill Nathan and his new friend! And anyone else that comes between him and vengeance. Custis, surely you can see that.”

Longarm gave her a comforting hug. “Listen, Diana,” he said, “I’m not worried about Buck Zolliver and you shouldn’t be either. I am, however, worried about overtaking Nathan Cox and putting his money-making machine out of business before he bankrupts the federal government.”

“He’s not doing that much counterfeiting.”

“Not yet,” Longarm agreed, “but that’s only because he hasn’t settled down so that he can really get his operation in gear. Up to now, Nathan Cox has been on the move. That will change when he buys his ranch or whatever it is he intends to buy in order to settle down and get serious about counterfeiting.”

“I don’t see how you can be so sure of that.”

“I’ve been chasing outlaws and con artists long enough to be able to read their minds. If I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t be much good in this business.”

Diana sighed. “All right. Go and see this monster and have your talk. But if you get yourself killed, it’s your own damn fault.”

“Right,” Longarm said, reaching for his hat and then heading for the door.

It took Longarm just fifteen minutes to locate Buck, who had taken over the run-down and all but vacant Antelope Saloon. The only one in the place besides Buck was the owner, who doubled as the bartender. He was a frightened-looking man with a handlebar mustache and a dirty white shirt. When Longarm stepped into the silent establishment, the poor man actually tried to wave him back outside.

“Howdy,” Longarm said, his eyes flicking toward the bartender but then coming to rest on Buck. “You are open for business, aren’t you?”

The owner nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “but you might find it a little healthier to move on, mister.”

Buck was giving Longarm the evil eye. His face was bloated from heavy drinking and he looked huge, menacing, and dissipated. Longarm had expected a big man, but not this big.

“Howdy!” Longarm called over at Buck. “You interested in a game of poker?”

“Leave me the hell alone!” Buck roared.

The saloon owner’s hand trembled when he laid it down on the bar top. “Mister,” he said under his breath, “I really appreciate you comin’ into my place, but I think-“

“It’s going to be all right,” Longarm assured the man behind the bar. “I just come in for a shot of whiskey and some friendly conversation. Last time I was in here, the place was real busy. What happened to everyone?”

“They were afraid of catching lead poisoning,” Buck growled. “And you might want to get your ass outa here before you catch a case of it yourself.”

“Aw,” Longarm said, motioning for the bartender to leave a bottle and a glass. Pouring himself a shot, Longarm continued with a shrug and a smile, “I’m not too worried. You see, I’m not looking for trouble. I just want something to drink, a little friendly conversation, and a card game.”

“Get outa here!”

Longarm tossed down his drink and refilled his glass. Carrying both the bottle and the shot glass across the room, he came to a halt in front of Buck’s table. “You look like you’re out of sorts, mister. Can I buy you a drink?”

Buck lurched to his feet, and Longarm judged him to be at least six foot six inches and nearly three hundred pounds—all of it mean.

“I’m going to give you to the count of three to get your stupid ass outa this saloon!” Buck warned. “And after that, you’re going to be fitted for a pine box.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah! One. Two-“

Longarm tossed his glass of whiskey into Buck’s sodden face. When the man clawed for his gun, Longarm swung the whiskey bottle and struck him right between the eyes. The bottle shattered and both whiskey and blood flowed. Buck staggered, then lunged forward with a roar and would have gotten a-hold of Longarm if the table hadn’t gotten in his way and tripped him to the dirty sawdust floor. Longarm kicked the man hard, his boot snapping Buck’s head back hard enough to break a man’s neck.

“Why don’t we just have us a nice little talk?” Longarm said as Buck struggled to stand.

Buck came off the floor with both hands filled with sawdust, which he hurled into Longarm’s face. When Longarm tried to clear his vision, Buck hit him with a thundering overhand that drove Longarm over another card table and sent him skidding across the sawdust.

“Damn,” Longarm swore groggily as Buck swung a boot at his face. Longarm rolled sideways and felt the wind move beside his cheek. He could have drawn his gun, but Longarm had a strong urge to see if he could whip this big bastard with his fists.

“You had your chance,” Buck snarled, throwing himself at Longarm before he could stand.

Most men would have fallen away from the giant’s charge, but Longarm did the opposite and tackled Buck. The giant landed hard, breath gushing from his lungs. An instant later Longarm pounded the man in the side of the face and knocked him flat. Buck lay still for a moment, then spat out a bloody molar and swayed erect.

“I’m going to kill you with my bare hands,” Buck vowed, raising his fists and squinting through an eye that was already beginning to swell shut.

“Maybe you ought to just have another drink and rethink that decision,” Longarm said, raising his own fists.

Buck lunged, clumsily feinting a left cross. Buck attempted to follow with a looping right that Longarm avoided while he landed two thundering uppercuts to the giant’s gut. Buck’s mouth flew open, and he gasped for air even as Longarm stepped back and broke the big man’s hanging jaw.

Buck roared and his knees buckled. Longarm waded in with both fists flying and drove the bigger man backward in choppy steps until Buck was pinned against the bar.

“Stop!” Buck wailed. “I’m whipped!”

“Not yet, you aren’t,” Longarm said between clenched teeth as he sledged a punch to Buck’s ribs that doubled the giant up in pain. Then, grabbing Buck’s right arm and raising it overhead, Longarm slammed the big man’s right arm down on the edge of the bar, hearing the forearm bones crack like a thick limb. Buck screamed and collapsed. “No more! Please!”

“Is that what the cowboy named Arnie said as you tried to beat him to death!” Longarm shouted. “Is it!”

Buck bowed his head and whimpered.

Longarm stepped back, wiping his bloody knuckles on his shirt, then glancing over at the bartender. “A bottle and two glasses,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir!” the man shouted, trying to hide his joy at this unexpected turn of events.

Longarm didn’t have to pour the drinks, because the bartender did that for him. Crouching beside the suffering man, Longarm handed him a glass and said, “Drink up, Buck, it will ease your pain.”

“Who are you, gawddamit!”

“United States Marshal Custis Long. And I’m here to give you fair warning that you had better give up the chase for Nathan Cox and return to Cheyenne.”

“I’m going to kill Cox and that Swensen kid!” Buck choked.

“No, you’re not,” Longarm said. “And if you don’t give up this chase, I might have to kill you.”

“They murdered my brother!”

“Maybe,” Longarm said, “but from everything I’ve heard so far, it sounds like Clyde got exactly what he deserved.”

Buck pulled himself up using the edge of the bar. He swayed and glared hatefully at Longarm. “So,” he said, “you’re a gawddamn United States marshal, huh?”

“That’s right.”

“Good,” Buck said, turning away and staggering toward the front door, “that’ll make it all even sweeter.”

Longarm was a decisive man, and he was pretty sure from Buck’s comment that the giant had no intention of giving up the deadly game. But without proof, there was nothing he could do, because this was a free country.

Longarm strode outside and yelled at Buck Zolliver. “If you come after me, I’ll use my gun instead of my fists! You hear me!”

Zolliver turned and Longarm’s hand automatically dropped to the butt of his six-gun. But the giant couldn’t make a play because of his now-broken right arm. Instead, he just spat blood and shook like he had the plague, only it was hatred and not a fever that was causing his huge body to quiver.

After a moment Buck turned and continued on. Longarm watched the giant disappear around a corner.

“Well,” Longarm muttered sarcastically to himself, “I sure took care of that matter like a veteran lawman.”

“Marshal?”

Longarm turned around to see the saloon owner. “Yeah?”

“My name is Terrence and I got some prime whiskey that I save just for special occasions. What you did just now was a very special occasion. Would you join me in a couple of drinks? I’d consider it an honor to drink to the man that whipped Buck Zolliver and drove him the hell outa my saloon.”

“Yeah,” Longarm said, rubbing his own aching jaw. “I’ll join you in a drink.”

Longarm was soon feeling a lot better. Not only was the whiskey as excellent as promised, but he was learning a little more about the kid named Rolf Swensen and the two women who’d also left town with Nathan Cox.

“Carole and Teresa were whores, but they were a real cut above the average,” Terrence said. “I tried like hell to get them to come to work for me behind this bar, but they wouldn’t. They chose to work in a bigger place that could pay them more. I understood, but I sure would have liked to have them working for me.”

“Did Clyde come in here before he was shot to death in the hallway?”

“Nope,” Terrence said, “he went straight to the Paradise Hotel, near as I can figure. He was a real bad one. Even worse than Buck.”

“I met their father in Cheyenne,” Longarm said. “And having met Emmett Zolliver, I can understand why those two boys were so mean.”

“Buck ain’t done with you or those others,” Terrence warned. “I can tell you that for a fact.”

“Well,” Longarm said, “I told him that I’d shoot him if he tried to follow us. I’ll not have a bushwhacker like that on my backtrail.”

“You should have broke his neck when you had the chance,” Terrence said, clucking his tongue. “Buck Zolliver is the kind of enemy that you have in your worst nightmare. I was the only witness and I damn sure would have said that you killed Buck in self-defense.”

Longarm emptied his fourth glass of whiskey. “Well,” he said, “I am sworn to uphold the law. That means bringing the guilty in for trial, not executing them, no matter how much they might deserve that fate.

Terrence nodded. He was drinking pretty fast, and Longarm could well imagine that the saloon owner was letting off a lot of pent-up rage and tension. It could not have been nice with Buck as his only customer.

“Marshal?”

“Yeah?”

“As long as I live, I’ll never see a more vicious fistfight than the one that you and Buck had a little while ago. And I’d not have believed that anyone could whip him … except maybe his own brother.”

“Buck was half drunk,” Longarm said, voicing his own thoughts on the matter. “If he’d have been completely sober, it would have been a lot rougher. Buck’s reactions were shot and his punches slow and wide. if he’d have been sober, I think I’d have had no choice but to go for my gun instead of giving him a whipping.”

“Like he gave to that cowboy named Arnie.”

“Yeah,” Longarm said, deciding that he had better return to the hotel and a very worried Diana Frank. “So long, Terrence. Thanks for the fine whiskey.”

“Anytime you’re passing through, the drinks are free in your case,” Terrence said. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m on my way to getting looped either. I mean it! As long as I own this place, if you come here, you drink free.”

Longarm smiled, but then winced with pain. “That guy sure had a punch,” he said.

“Watch out for him, Marshal. Buck will be coming after you as soon as he sobers up and can stand to ride a horse.”

Longarm supposed that was true as he walked back to the hotel and rejoined Diana, who had been soaking in a hot tub of bathwater but was now standing naked and dripping before him.

“Darling! I thought you might be dead by now! Oh,” she cried, “look what happened to your poor, battered face!”

“It’s all right,” Longarm said, glancing over the tub. I’m just a little sore and a little drunk. Help me get undressed and into that tub to soak.”

Diana helped him and then, when his chin began to dip and he started to fall asleep in the bath, she pulled him out, dried him off, and put him to bed, where he slept like the dead until ten o’clock the following morning.

Chapter 13

Since leaving Whiskey Creek on the run almost two weeks earlier, Rolf Swensen wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen from one day to the next. Nathan hadn’t recovered from his pistol-whipping, and although it was clear that he would survive, Rolf’s new friend remained dazed and disoriented. It was a frightening thing to see Nathan suffer so, and Rolf didn’t know what to do to help him. Carole and Teresa helped take care of Nathan, but neither of them knew where they were going or for what purpose save covering enough ground so that a Zolliver didn’t overtake and kill them all.

“Poor Nathan needs to see a good brain specialist,” Carole kept repeating. “A real doctor who can tell us what has happened to his mind.”

“It got scrambled,” Teresa said. “You said that Clyde pistol-whipped him real hard. Clyde was awful strong. I think Nathan’s mind was scrambled like an egg.”

“Don’t say that!” Carole protested. “Nathan will be all right. He just needs some time. He’s getting better and better every day.”

“No, he’s not,” Teresa argued. “His color is good, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m not even sure that he thinks anything.”

“Of course he does!” Carole cried. “He’s just … just confused.”

And so the pair would argue, leaving poor Rolf to wonder who was right and what was going to become of them. He had found the United States mint’s property in Nathan’s packs and was shocked to realize that his best friend was a counterfeiter and a thief, one who was probably being hunted by lawmen all over the country. Rolf had also found thousands of dollars worth of cash, mostly in hundred-dollar bills. Rolf had no doubt in his mind that they were counterfeit, although it was obvious that his friend had taken some pains to make them appear old and hard used.

As yet, Rolf had not told either of the women about his discovery. He was hoping that Nathan’s mind would clear and that his friend would take charge again and make those kinds of decisions.

“What’s the name of that little settlement up ahead?” Carole asked from the back of the buckboard, where she chose to ride beside Nathan in case he suddenly became alert and needed to speak to someone.

“I don’t know,” Rolf said. “But we must be in Arizona by now, since we already crossed the Colorado River.”

“How much did you have to pay that ferryman anyway?” Teresa asked. “He wanted a lot of money.”

“It turned out he didn’t really want that much,” Rolf said vaguely. “Not considering all these horses and the buckboard and the swiftness of the river.”

“I thought we were going to overturn for sure,” Teresa said, shaking her head as if to rid it of the memory. “I don’t mind telling you that I was terrified.”

“Me too,” Rolf admitted. “But we made it, and that’s all that matters.”

“That and Nathan getting well,” Carole said.

“Of course,” Rolf said.

Rolf was driving and Teresa was sitting beside him on the buckboard seat. The Thoroughbreds were shuffling along behind, and had grown so used to the road that Rolf didn’t even bother to tie them to the wagon anymore. They just followed, partly because of the sacks of oats resting in the wagon but also because they seemed to realize that they were ill suited to survive on their own in this rugged, high-desert country. At night Rolf kept them picketed when they were camping on the trail, and he always checked their feet for stones and fed each one their grain separately. They had become as tame as little dogs, and Rolf had grown enormously fond of each animal.

“Looks like a mining town,” Teresa said. “Maybe we’d be better off to circle around it. They can be pretty rough.”

“I would, except that we’re almost out of food and running low on grain,” Rolf told her. “Besides, maybe they have a real doctor that could examine Nathan.”

“Not in a little settlement like that, honey,” Carole chimed in from behind. “But we really could use some food, and I saw that you’ve taken all Nathan’s money.”

Rolf flushed with embarrassment. “Carole, I didn’t steal it! I just took what we’d need to get down to Arizona.”

“But we don’t even know where in Arizona we’re supposed to go!” Teresa said with obvious exasperation.

“Nathan will come around,” Rolf said, trying to sound confident. “And he’ll tell us where he wanted to end up and buy a ranch.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Teresa asked. “Then what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Rolf admitted. “I’ve been giving that some thought, but so far I haven’t come up with anything. The thing of it is, we talked a lot but he never actually said where we were going.”

“Do you think he had a specific destination in Arizona?”

Rolf shrugged. “It’s hard to say. One night on the trail Nathan talked fondly of a place along the eastern slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.”

“In Nevada?” Carole asked, sounding surprised.

“I think he said it was in California.”

“Jeez,” Teresa said, “I always wanted to see California and the ocean.”

“It’d be nice all right,” Rolf said, “but I don’t recall Nathan saying anything about any ocean nearby.”

“Well, he just must have forgot,” Teresa said, “because California has definitely got an ocean. I know that for a fact because San Francisco is in California and it’s beside the ocean.”

“Well then, Teresa, darling,” Rolf said, plenty willing to concede the point as they neared the mining town, “I guess we would be close to the ocean.”

Rolf stopped the wagon and tethered the Thoroughbreds together so that they could not be scattered or stolen. Then he climbed back into the buckboard and continued on. The mining settlement didn’t have a name that they could locate. A lot of them had signs posted at both ends of the main street giving the name, the population, or often even the date it was founded. But this town was so hard looking that no one had bothered.

“We sure are attracting a lot of attention,” Teresa said, noting the flock of miners who were beginning to stare.

“We always attract a lot of attention when we arrive,” Carole said, cradling Nathan’s head in her lap.

Rolf felt a stirring of jealousy and anger as miners, freighters, and saloon patrons stood lined along the street gawking at the new arrivals. “They act like they never seen women before,” he muttered.

“Just ignore them and let’s stop in front of that general store up on the right,” Teresa said. “It looks to be the only one in town.”

“I’ll bet it’s damned expensive too,” Rolf grumbled.

“We’ve got enough money to buy anything we want,” Teresa said in a low voice as she surveyed the hard, leering faces that lined the street. “Let’s just buy what we need and get out of here as fast as possible.”

“Good idea,” Carole said.

Rolf was beginning to think that it really might have been wiser if they’d have bypassed this settlement. Other than a livery, a general store, and an assayer’s office, all it had was a line of saloons, gambling halls, and other attractions created with the sole purpose of separating a miner from his gold.

Rolf tried to ignore the hard-faced men as he climbed down from the buckboard and then handed the reins to Teresa. “I’ll just grab a few things and we’ll be on our way.”

“Sure,” she said, looking uneasy. “Just don’t stray out of calling distance.”

Rolf nodded, and when he started to step up upon the boardwalk, a tough-looking man blocked his view. “Whatcha doin’ with them chippies, huh, kid?”

Rolf heard the mocking challenge. He felt his insides grow cold and wanted to step around the bigger man and sidestep this trouble. And he might have, but the man gave him a little shove. “I asked you a question, kid.”

“Ignore him, Rolf!” Teresa said. “He’s just trying to show off to his friends.”

The man turned his eyes to Teresa. “You got fire. Why don’t you come down here and do the women’s work of shopping instead of sending the kid?”

Rolf knew that he could not avoid or win this fight. He was just not big or strong enough to whip the bully. That being the case, he had no alternative but to draw his six-gun. It came up very fast, smooth and cocked.

“Step aside,” Rolf whispered, pressing the barrel of the gun to the bully’s belly. “Step aside or I’ll blow your guts all over the side of this building.”

The bully paled. He glanced down at the pistol, then back up at Rolf and tried to sound brave. “If you kill me, kid, my friends will tear you apart.”

“Fine,” Rolf said. “It’s a good day to die … but you’re going to do it first.”

The street fell silent. A hundred men stood watching, and not one said a word as the bully weighed the resolve in Rolf’s eyes and decided that he wasn’t bluffing.

“I ain’t armed, kid.”

“Then either get out of my sight, or get a gun,” Rolf heard himself say.

“I-I was just joshin’ you a little. No harm meant.”

“Sure,” Rolf said, prodding the man hard. “And no harm done. Now, git!”

The bully turned and hurried away. Rolf met Teresa’s eyes and he thought he saw pride. But he didn’t wait around to hear any more or to face another bully. Rolf stepped inside the general store and quickly began to make his purchases.

“Where you headed?” the store clerk asked, looking nervous as he hurried to fill Rolf’s order.

“Maybe Prescott or Flagstaff.”

“Flagstaff is a lot closer. Growin’ too fast, though, since the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad passed through. They say Flagstaff is now the fastest-growin’ town on the line runnin’ between Albuquerque and the Pacific Coast.”

“Is it surrounded by high desert sage like these parts?”

“Nope, pines. They get some pretty good snow up there.”

“Ranching country?”

“Some. Prescott is better though. Not so cold and the grass has a longer growing season. You a rancher?”

“Nope. Just hopin’ to be a good cowboy,” Rolf admitted. “Is there a real doctor in this town?”

“Fraid not. People here either die or get well all on their own. Only the strong survive in Purgatory.”

“Purgatory, huh.” Rolf collected his goods in a burlap sack. “How much do I owe you, mister?”

“I’ll tally it up.”

Rolf thought he heard Teresa and she sounded angry. “Here,” he said, tossing a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “That ought to cover it.”

“Why … why, thanks!”

Rolf hurried outside to see a man with a gun strapped on his lean hip reaching for Teresa.

“Hold it!” Rolf ordered.

The man whirled, drawing his gun so fast that Rolf didn’t have time to drop his sack of provisions. And there he was, caught flat-footed and helpless.

“Mister,” the gunman said with a look of triumph on his face, “you got the drop on that other fella, but I’ve just turned the tables on you. What are you going to do about that?”

The sack slipped out of Rolf’s hand and he flexed his fingers. “Maybe I’ll get off a shot,” he heard himself tell the man.

“You’re even stupider than you look, kid!”

Rolf wanted to draw, but he was so damned scared, he felt as if his body had turned to solid ice.

“Drop it!” Teresa ordered, cocking back the hammer of a derringer that had appeared in her little fist. “Drop it or I’ll shoot you in the back, mister!”

The gunman turned and he saw not only Teresa with a derringer, but Carole also had one pointing at his chest.

“Whew!” he said, eyes falling to his own six-gun. “The odds aren’t good anymore.”

“Drop it,” Teresa repeated.

The gunman was handsome in a lean, predatory way. He smiled and took a step toward Teresa, starting to say something, when her derringer barked smoke and flame. A red, red rose blossomed across the gunman’s shoulder, and his fancy six-gun jumped from his hand as if it had a life of its own. He staggered and tried to stoop for the gun, but Teresa shot him in the knee and he went down bawling.

Rolf jumped forward and disarmed the gunman. Stuffing the man’s ivory-handled six-gun into his waistband and scooping up the sack of provisions, Rolf leaped back into the buckboard.

“Have a nice day!” he called as he slapped the lines down hard on the rumps of the team and the buckboard lurched into the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea.

None of them looked back at Purgatory and they kept moving at a brisk trot until the evil little mining town was just a speck of dust on the bleak, gray horizon.

“You saved my bacon,” Rolf said, taking Teresa’s hand.

“Yeah, but you were brave and fast with that first fella,” Teresa said proudly. “Wasn’t he brave, Carole?”

“He sure was, but almost dead.”

“Yeah, I was that too,” Rolf said, feeling good about himself as he twisted around for about the tenth time to make sure that they were not being followed.

“Where are we going?” Carole asked.

“Flagstaff, then maybe Prescott,” Rolf told her as they jounced onward in the face of a crimson and gold desert sunset.

Chapter 14

There had been a foot of snow on the ground in Flagstaff and the temperature barely got above freezing the day Rolf drove the buckboard through the northern Arizona railroad town. They found a Dr. Osmond, but he wasn’t very encouraging after a cursory examination of Nathan Cox.

“I’d say the poor fellow has permanent and irreversible brain damage,” was Osmond’s grim prognosis.

“You’re wrong!” Carole had insisted, and then they’d dragged poor Nathan out of the doctor’s office and loaded him back into the buckboard.

“What now?” Rolf asked as they drove away from the doctor’s office.

“Let’s keep going south until we find some warmer weather,” Teresa had almost begged.

Rolf thought that was a fine idea, and three blustery days later they drove into mile-high Prescott, in a lush, pine-forested valley fed by Granite Creek and surrounded on three sides by Granite Peak, Spruce Mountain, and Mount Tritle.

“Now this is handsome ranching country,” Rolf said as they neared the old mining town famed for its riches of gold, silver, copper, and lead.

“That must be Fort Whipple over there,” Carole said, pointing to a big log fort off in the distance.

“There’s some pretty big cattle ranches hereabouts too,” Rolf said, noting the thousands of cattle out on the winter range. “Ought to be plenty of work for a cowboy.”

“If you were a cowboy,” Teresa said. “Rolf, don’t you dare be thinking about going off to find some thirty-dollar-a-month job riding fence. We’re going to buy our own cattle ranch, remember?”

“Actually,” he said, “I don’t remember that agreement at all. We’ve no money to buy a ranch.”

“Yes, we do,” Carole said, looking at Teresa. “Don’t you think we’ve both figured out what you and Nathan have hidden in those heavy packs?”

Rolf tried to sound angry. “You mean you’ve been snooping around in Nathan’s stuff when I had my back turned?”

“Well, you snooped first!” Teresa said, looking annoyed and sliding over to the far side of the seat. “So don’t you start pointing fingers at Carole and me! We know you’re a couple of counterfeiters and we’re willing to overlook that fact because we love you fellas. But that don’t give you the right to play high and mighty.”

“She’s right,” Carole said, nose pointing to the sky. “We found your hidden money, paper, treasury department plates, ink, and everything. Anyone could see why you and Nathan have so much money. You’ve been printing it.”

“Not me!”

“Well, sure you have,” Teresa said. “But don’t worry, we’re going to get married soon and I’ll never tell.”

“Just like I’m marrying Nathan and I’d never tell on him either,” Carole said.

Rolf felt defensive. “Well, I’m real glad you’re marryin’ us, but I still didn’t print any damn hundred-dollar bills. I just sort of joined up with Nathan and was hoping he’d buy a ranch and give me honest work riding fence.”

“That’s it?” Teresa asked.

“Yes, that’s it,” Rolf answered them both. “And anyway, Nathan might not want to get married. No offense, Carole, but I think you ought to wait until he’s feeling better and can at least tell his own mind.”

Carole was offended. “For your information, he did ask me to marry him.”

“He did?”

“Sure! That night at the Paradise Hotel he said I was the best he’d ever had in bed and that he loved and wanted to marry me.”

“Well,” Rolf said, feeling much better, “if Nathan said that, then we’ll all get married together in Prescott and buy a cattle ranch.”

“And build two big houses and then raise big families.”

Rolf glanced back into the buckboard. “You think Nathan would want a family? That he can even still make a family?”

“Oh, sure,” Carole said, gently patting Nathan’s crotch. “He’s still working just fine down here.”

Rolf was appalled. “You … you did it with him since he got pistol-whipped by Clyde Zolliver?”

“We did it together three or four times already,” Carole said rather proudly. “It makes Nathan smile, so I know he still likes it.”

Rolf had to bite his tongue. He just wasn’t sure if a man should be asked to make love to a woman if he was not right in the mind. Still, if it made Nathan smile, then what could be the harm?

Prescott wasn’t as big as Flagstaff and it didn’t have a railroad, but the town had a more permanent and civilized appearance that Rolf appreciated. There were a couple of churches and a Masonic hall as well as a newspaper and a one-room schoolhouse. The sign on the outskirts of Prescott said that it was the territorial capital of Arizona and that it had been founded in 1836 by Joseph Reddeford Walker and his party of mountain men.

“Look,” Teresa said. “There’s even a marshal’s office and jail.”

“That’s not good,” Rolf said. “Not good at all.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Teresa said. “But we’re not going to be sitting around town printing money. We’re going to be printing it on our cattle ranch.

“No, we’re not!” Rolf argued vehemently. “We’re going to raise cattle and make an honest living at ranching.”

“It’s hard work,” Carole warned. “I’ve had a lot of ranchers and cowboys, and they all were stove up with injuries from working too long and hard out in bad weather.”

“The weather will be a lot better here than it was where we came from,” Rolf said. “This far south, they don’t get such cold and blizzards.”

“Do we have enough of that phony money to buy a big ranch and build a couple of big cabins?” Teresa wanted to know.

“Yep,” Rolf said. “But could we talk about something else until we’re out of hearing range of this town?”

“Sure,” Teresa said, sliding back over to his side. “We know that spending loads of counterfeit money is a criminal offense. One that can send you to jail and even prison. That’s not what Carole or I want either.”

“Glad to hear that,” Rolf said, spying a livery and heading in its direction. “After we put up all the horses and find rooms, we need to buy a ranch fast and get out of town before someone starts nosing around.”

“Maybe there’s a better doctor in this town,” Carole said. “One who can really help Nathan instead of just saying he’s hopeless.”

“Maybe,” Rolf said, but inwardly he doubted it.

An hour later, Dr. John Barry emerged from his examination room with his bushy brows knitted together. “Interesting case,” he said, glancing back into the room to see Nathan just sitting zombie-like on the examination table. “Your friend has definitely suffered a severe contusion or concussion.”

“Doctor?” Carole asked, stepping in front of the distracted-looking physician. “Would you mind telling us what you discovered?”

Dr. Barry possessed a very large head covered with silver hair. His eyes were immense behind his thick glasses.

“Not at all,” he said, removing his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose. “To begin with, it’s obvious that your friend suffered an extremely severe blow to the anterior of his cranium about where-“

“He was pistol-whipped,” Carole said very deliberately. “The blow caught Nathan just above the hairline. Are his brains scrambled, Dr. Barry?”

“Scrambled?” The doctor replaced his glasses and shook his head. “Oh, heavens, no! I happen to have taken some training in head injuries at the University of Boston and I’ve seen many patients recover from even more severe blows.”

Carole’s eyes lit up. “You mean he’s going to be all right!”

“Not … not entirely.”

Carole’s smile died. “What does that mean?”

“His brain has been severely traumatized. There is cranial swelling which can be fatal.”

“Fatal!” Teresa cried. “Doctor, he was injured several weeks ago.”

“Oh. Then that answers my first question and puts a happier light on the matter,” Barry said. “In that case, he probably won’t die, but I expect that it will be a good while before his brain functions correctly again.”

“What do you mean, a good while?” Rolf asked. “Weeks? Months? What?”

“A month, maybe a little longer. It’s impossible to say. We just don’t know enough about the brain or cranial injuries to predict. However, my experience tells me that a blow of this nature could well result in major behavioral modifications and quite likely permanent amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” Teresa said. “Isn’t that forgetting stuff?”

“Yes,” Barry said, “it is. And in your friend’s case, it would be a permanent loss of memory.”

“All memory?” Rolf asked with rising apprehension as it occurred to him that Nathan might think them strangers instead of his only friends.

“It’s impossible to say,” Barry told them. “But be warned that you might actually have to teach Nathan how to talk, feed himself, everything. On the other hand, he might remember quite a lot but with certain periods of his life missing completely. That is very common. Often, a patient will remember segments of his childhood. Special events that were either very unpleasant or very pleasant. He or she usually remembers their mother, sometimes their father or a favorite sibling.”

Dr. Barry shrugged his shoulders. “To theorize at this point is a waste of time. You will see this man begin to blink and show signs that his brain is starting to function again. Quite possibly this will happen in fits and starts. But the improvement, once it begins, will be quite dramatic.”

“What is the chance of complete recovery of his memory?” Carole asked.

“The chances are slim to none,” Dr. Barry said without hesitation. “I can assure you with a fair degree of certainty that this man will never completely regain his memory.”

“Will his personality be changed?” Teresa asked.

“Most definitely. After such a trauma, most patients become more serene and even … I daresay … happier individuals. They may lack a high degree of concentration ability, but they seem to enjoy life to an extent that most of us could never even hope to achieve.”

“A mixed blessing,” Rolf mused aloud.

“Yes,” Barry agreed, overhearing the remark, “definitely mixed.”

The doctor turned to Carole. “Didn’t you introduce yourself to me as his fiancee when you first came into my office?”

“Yes.”

“Then your patience will be sorely tried at times and you will question if this is even the same man that you chose to marry. But I promise you, miss, that Nathan will eventually make a strong recovery and become an absolute delight. You must simply be loving and patient.”

“I’ve been loving him plenty already, and when I do it, he really gets excited and smiles a lot,” Carole explained, looking quite pleased.

The doctor blushed. “Well,” he said, recovering nicely, “go easy on the ‘loving’ part for a while. This man is recuperating, and it might not be wise to overtax his … his most basic functions.”

“Huh?”

“Just lay off his body for a few weeks,” Teresa said, “isn’t that what you’re trying to say, Doctor?”

“Exactly,” the man replied, turning away and removing a stethoscope from his neck, then pretending to arrange his tray of instruments.

Rolf paid the doctor and they led Nathan outside. He looked around the town, and then he actually nodded his head and a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.

“Look at him,” Carole said, hugging Nathan’s arm, “my love thinks the doctor’s advice about us not doing it was every bit as ridiculous as I did!”

“Or,” Teresa said, “he recognizes things here in Prescott and they bring back good memories.”

“There’s a land office up the street,” Rolf said, shouldering a pair of saddlebags heavy with counterfeit hundred-dollar bills. “Let’s go buy a ranch.”

The land office was staffed by just one man, a very jolly and heavyset fellow who introduced himself as Albert A. Atherton.

“But you can call me Big Al,” he said, motioning them all to chairs in his tiny office but obviously having a difficult time keeping from staring at Nathan.

Finally, Al said, “His face is very familiar. Isn’t he … isn’t that Nathan Cox?”

“Yes,” Teresa said before Rolf could think of some alias that might help to protect them.

“I knew it!” Al said. “The rest of the family left here a couple years back. I heard they went down to Tucson and started raising sheep in the desert. I don’t know that for a fact though. What’s wrong with Nathan anyway? Why doesn’t he say something instead of just staring at the floor?”

“He’s grown quite shy since leaving Arizona,” Rolf said, not wanting to go into a long explanation that would only lead to further questions that could be detrimental to all their futures. “We have cash and we want to buy a cattle ranch.”

“Cash, huh!” Al actually rubbed his fat hands together. “Well, cash always talks! How much cash and how much of a ranch do you want to buy?”

Before Rolf could tell the man that they had about twenty thousand dollars, Teresa said, “What kinds of good ranches are available?”

“Actually,” Al said, “the old Cox homestead is up for sale. Big ranch with about four thousand acres of excellent land, timber, and grass. Six water-holding ponds that will save your beef in the fall when Granite Creek gets low, and even a couple of silver mines that still haven’t produced but that could someday.”

“How much?” Rolf asked, knowing in a flash that this was the ranch that Nathan would want. “Asking price is twelve thousand dollars.”

“Twelve thousand!” Teresa exclaimed.

“That’s just the asking price,” Al said quickly. “I suspect that you could get it for … oh, about nine cash.”

“What kind of buildings does it come with?” Carole asked.

“Why, Nathan can tell you that,” Al said, staring at Nathan, who kept staring at the floor.

“Why don’t you tell us,” Rolf said.

“All right. The Cox ranch has a big main ranch house with a veranda and cellar for roots and potatoes, apples and such. Then it has another smaller but nicer log cabin with four rooms and a fine stone fireplace. There are barns, a toolshed, blacksmith shop, and tack rooms. Comes with some wagons and harness. The land is completely fenced with three strands of wire and good cedar posts. There are four wells, the best right at the house and-“

“We’ll take it,” Rolf said, reaching for the saddlebags and the counterfeit money.

“Well!” Al said, rubbing his hands together. “We need to sign some documents over at the bank and then we can settle this today.”

“Good,” Rolf said, “but we also want to be married.”

“Today?”

“Right now,” Carole said, “before we sign the papers as joint owners.”

Rolf started to object because the counterfeit money really belonged to Nathan, but then he realized it really didn’t. The counterfeit money didn’t belong to anyone, or at least it wasn’t supposed to have any value to anyone.

“I expect that we can find a preacher at the church,” Teresa said, grabbing Rolf by the arm and practically dragging him out the door.

“His name is Deacon Ward!” Al called. “Just pay him up front and we’ll all meet at the bank in fifteen minutes. Okay?”

“Okay!” Teresa called back as Carole hustled poor Nathan out the door and caught up with them.

The wedding took only ten minutes. Signing all the papers in order to buy the old Cox ranch and then opening an account with the Bank of Prescott took nearly two hours. But it was worth it. All four rode out in the buckboard, grinning like mad fools. And the best part was yet to come, when they took over the old ranch, spent their first nights as husband and wives, then began the job of cattle ranching, providing the place came with some cows.

As far as Rolf was concerned, this whole thing was just a miracle, a dream come true. It was hard to believe that less than a month ago he was riding with outlaws who treated him like dirt and called him a snot-nosed kid.

Chapter 15

“You want to wait outside or come in with me?” Longarm asked Diana one cold afternoon as they reined in before the Purgatory, Arizona, general store.

Diana looked around at the rough citizenry. “I think I’d rather stick close to you,” she quickly decided.

Longarm followed her eyes and read her concerns. “Probably a real good idea,” he said, dismounting and tying his horse and then Diana’s to the hitching rail.

“Afternoon!” the clerk behind the counter said in greeting. “What can I help you with today?”

“Thought we’d stay over tonight in the hotel just up the street, then come back here in the morning and buy some provisions.”

The clerk measured Diana and smiled, then turned to Longarm and said, “I’m a little afraid that our hotel might not be to the lady’s liking.”

“Why not?”

“Things get pretty wild at night over there.”

“What’s the alternative?” Diana asked.

The clerk grinned even wider. “I was hoping you’d ask. Why don’t you both take room and board tonight in my home? My wife cooks a mean chicken and dumpling and I’ll guarantee that you won’t be bothered by our local rowdies.”

Longarm knew that Diana was worn out and decided that he ought to accept the offer. “All right,” Longarm said, “but how much a night?”

“Five dollars for the two of you and that includes dinner, a big breakfast, and a place to put up your horses where they won’t get stolen. I grain ‘em and feed ‘em well right along with my own horses.”

“Private bedroom?”

“Of course,” the clerk said. “And the walls are pretty thick so … well, so you can sleep as late as you like.”

“We’ll accept your offer,” Longarm said, “as long as it comes with a hot bath.”

“Why, sure, but it’s cash in advance.”

Longarm started to dig into his pockets. He’d broken a hundred-dollar bill in Whiskey Creek so he wouldn’t even be paying this fella counterfeit money.

“First,” he said, pausing with his hand in his pocket, “we could use a little information.”

“Then you come to the right place.”

“We’re looking for a couple of men and their lady friends. They were traveling in a buckboard with some fine Thoroughbred horses, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they stopped here for provisions.”

The clerk leaned forward, elbows on his counter. “What’d they look like?”

“One man was handsome, but he’s been pistol-whipped and might have been either unconscious or feeling poorly. The other was a kid barely out of his teens.”

“I remember that bunch! The kid seemed to be the one in charge, and I do recollect that a pair stayed in the rear of the buckboard.”

“When did they pass through this settlement?” Diana asked.

“A couple of days ago. They raised some eyebrows here, I’ll tell you!”

“Why?”

“They had some trouble right out here in front of my store.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“It was quite a sight! You see, a local gunnie named Fred Stillwell tried to buffalo the kid and got a couple of bullets for his trouble.”

“The kid shot him?” Diana asked.

“Nope. The woman beside the kid shot Fred with her derringer. Hit him once in the knee and once in the shoulder. Fred got septic fever and died last night.”

“And then?” Longarm asked.

“Then they all climbed back in that buckboard with the provisions just like they were going off on a damned Sunday picnic and drove south out of town.”

“South?” Longarm wanted to be very clear on this point. “Not east?”

“South for sure.”

Longarm frowned. “I thought sure they’d be turning west by now in order to go into the desert country and try to shake any pursuit. Maybe they really are going to Prescott.”

“To me it makes a lot of sense,” Diana said. “If Nathan is hurt as bad as we’re starting to think, the Swensen kid and those Whiskey Creek girls would be hoping that there were a few of his relatives left in Prescott that might be able to help them.”

“Yeah,” Longarm said, glancing up suddenly at the clerk. “Did they pay you with a hundred-dollar bill?”

“Nope. They gave me a twenty.”

“Glad to hear that,” Longarm said, turning to leave.

“Hey, what about your room?”

“We’d better push on,” Longarm said, speaking to Diana. “At least until dark.”

She sighed. “All right, but I am sick to death of sleeping on the trail.”

The clerk came around and said, “Folks, it’s too late to start out on the trail this evening.”

“We got a little sunlight left.”

“Why freeze tonight on the ground when you know that you’ll find those people in Flagstaff or Prescott?”

“Good question,” Diana said.

“Of course it is!” the clerk said. “You’d both be a lot better off to stay over tonight, get a good night’s sleep, and then push on tomorrow morning after one of my wife’s big old breakfasts of sourdough biscuits, bacon, and buttermilk.”

“Custis, please?” Diana asked.

“All right,” he said, digging five dollars out of his pants. “I guess it’ll be dark pretty soon anyways.”

“Could rain too,” the clerk said, taking the money and then giving them directions to his house. “Supper is at seven. Wife likes you to be at the dining table on time. She’ll make it worth your while.”

“We’ll do that,” Longarm promised as they started for the front door. “And, Diana, we’ll be leaving early.”

“Then I’ll want a full night’s sleep,” Diana said pointedly.

“Fine,” Longarm told her. “I could use one too.”

The store clerk winked and grinned but had the good sense not to say anything before Longarm and Diana left.

True to his promise, the bed had been soft, the sheets clean, and the food excellent in Purgatory. And after reaching Flagstaff, Longarm found Dr. Osmond, who had very little good to say about Nathan Cox.

“I told them the man was brain damaged and not to expect very much in the way of recovery.”

“It’s that bad, huh?” Longarm said.

“Well, I’m not really a doctor,” Osmond admitted. “But I have read some medical books and seen quite a few men with head injuries. This fella in the buckboard was hurt pretty bad. Most of them like that never fully recover.”

Longarm and Diana exchanged glances, then Longarm turned back to Osmond and said, “Thanks for your information.”

“Good luck catching them, Marshal.”

That same hour they resupplied their provisions and pushed on for Prescott.

A short way south of town Diana said, “You know I’m bitter about the way that Nathan lied and cheated me. But I have to tell you that I feel bad that he might never recover. I just can’t quite imagine him being permanently helpless.”

“It’s sad,” Longarm said, watching a train as it puffed into town. “I’ve never inflicted that kind of damage on anyone, but it happens.”

“If Nathan was in charge, he’d never return to Prescott,” Diana said. “He’d realize Prescott was the first place we’d look for him. This can mean only that Nathan is incapable of making decisions.”

“And counterfeit money,” Longarm added, “which is the only bright side to this sad business.”

“Yes,” Diana said, “I hadn’t thought of that. I know nothing about the subject, but I suppose it’s unlikely that either of the two women or the kid would have the knowledge and skill to make counterfeit money.”

“Completely unlikely,” Longarm agreed. “It would be easy work for a skilled printer, but not for a would-be cowboy and a couple of saloon girls.”

“I almost feel sorry for the way they’ve been caught up in this web,” Diana said. “Must you arrest Swensen and the women?”

“Probably,” Longarm said as they rode out of Flagstaff, “but I doubt that any charges will stick unless they actually try to use the plates. Their obvious defense would be to claim that they didn’t know about the plates or the counterfeit money.”

“But they’ve been spending it.”

“So have we,” Longarm reminded her, “as well as everyone else who has taken in that bogus money. It would be a waste of time to arrest those three. They’d beat any charges filed against them in court.”

“I can’t say that I would feel too bad about that,” Diana confessed.

“No more burning revenge?”

“Not for the kid or the women.”

“What about for Nathan?”

Diana gave the question some thought before she answered. “I can’t forgive him,” she finally said, “but how can you hate someone who has been robbed of their mind?”

“I don’t know. What if the doctor was wrong and he managed a full recovery?”

“Then he’d deserve prison … or worse, for killing his accomplice.”

“I agree,” Longarm said, feeling a sudden icy blast of wind strike him full in the face. Longarm pulled his sheepskin collar up to cover his cheeks and ears. “It’s cold up here in these pines.”

“Is Prescott warmer?”

“Yes,” Longarm said, “because it’s lower and farther south.”

Diana touched her heels to the flanks of her mare. “Then let’s hurry up,” she said, “because I am beginning to feel like a big icicle!”

Longarm pushed his horse into an easy gallop and he turned his thoughts to Prescott. It had been several years since he’d seen that mining town, and he supposed that it had grown like most settlements in the Arizona Territory.

Chapter 16

When Longarm and Diana reached the old Arizona mining town of Prescott, the first stop they made was at the marshal’s office. Unfortunately, there was a sign on his door saying that he had gone elk hunting for a few days and that if there was any trouble, to contact Mayor Jesse Taylor three doors down on the right.

“We’re not going to wait for the marshal to return from hunting,” Longarm said, “and we’re not going to trouble the mayor about the federal government’s missing property and this counterfeiting business.”

“Then how will we find Nathan and the rest?” Diana asked.

“We’ll ask a few questions,” Longarm said, looking up and down the street. “The livery is a good place to start, as well as the general store, because they’d most likely be out of provisions, same as us.”

“What about that doctor’s office?” Diana asked, pointing just up the street.

“I think that would also be an excellent place to start,” Longarm agreed. “Let’s go.”

Dr. Barry was not the most cooperative man Longarm had ever interviewed, even after the physician had examined his badge.

“Mr. Cox has been in twice since my initial examination,” Dr. Barry finally revealed. “His prognosis is guarded, but we’re quite optimistic that he will regain most of his mental functions and about sixty percent of his memory. But that’s just a guess and you should know that it’s quite impossible to say with any real degree of accuracy.”

“Where is Cox right now?”

Barry hesitated. “Why are you seeking this man?”

“It’s a federal matter.”

“Is he a criminal?” Barry asked.

Longarm had no intention of telling the doctor anything. “We need to speak with Cox as well as his friends. Now, Dr. Barry, will you help, or do I have to start asking questions and raising eyebrows all over Prescott?”

Barry removed his thick glasses. “Marshal Long, if you really are that determined, I probably ought to cooperate.”

“Excellent idea. Where can we find them?”

Dr. Barry quickly told Longarm and Diana about how Rolf Swensen and the two women had bought the old Cox ranch. “I hear they paid nine thousand dollars for it—cash! But even that was a good buy according to people who know the cattle market and the property itself, which, I understand, has enormous potential not only for ranching, but also for its timber and mineral rights.”

Diana smiled. “I’ll bet they paid for it in hundred-dollar bills.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Never mind.”

“How do we get to the Cox ranch?” Longarm asked.

Dr. Barry gave them directions and ended by saying, “You can’t miss the place when you come to that big pile of boulders west of town.”

“Thanks,” Longarm said. “What kind of shape was Nathan Cox in the last time you saw him?”

“That was just yesterday,” Barry said, “and he was showing a tremendous amount of improvement. He was walking and eating well, his eyes were in focus, and he seemed much more alert.”

Diana pushed forward. “Does he remember anything about the past?”

“No,” Barry said, “and his wife told me-“

“Wife?” Diana asked with surprise.

“Yes,” Dr. Barry said, “her name is Carole. She is very devoted to Nathan and is, I think, largely responsible for his excellent care and dramatic improvement.”

“Humph!”

“Do you … do you know the woman?” Dr. Barry asked.

“No,” Diana said.

Barry replaced his glasses on his beak and eyed Longarm suspiciously. “I trust that you’re not going to arrest any of those fine people, are you, Marshal?”

Longarm took Diana’s arm and pointed her toward the door. “Thank you very much for your help, Dr. Barry.”

The physician herded them out his door. “I would be lying if I said that you were welcome, Marshal Long.”

“He knows that this isn’t a social call we’re about to make,” Diana said as they headed for their horses.

“Diana, I really would prefer you to stay here in town while I-“

“Not on your life! Do you think that I have come this far and endured so much to be shut out now?”

“No,” Longarm said, “I suppose not.”

“Well, you’re damn right I haven’t!” she said. “I may not have the same motive, to kill Nathan, but I still want my money back.”

“Of course,” Longarm said, untying his reins and then wearily mounting his horse.

“I’m glad that you’re so understanding,” Diana said as she also mounted. “Now, let’s go put an end to this whole sorry business.”

They had no trouble finding the Cox ranch. Longarm even spotted the Thoroughbreds grazing in a big pasture near the ranch house.

“How are you going to handle this?” Diana asked. “You know that the kid is quick on the trigger and that the two Whiskey Creek women are dangerous as hell.”

“Yes,” Longarm said, “I know that. I think that I should just ride in alone. Nathan might still recognize you, but he’s never seen me.”

“Bad idea!”

“Good idea,” Longarm said firmly. “If something goes wrong, you can ride for help.”

“And do what?” she asked. “Find out where Prescott’s marshal went elk hunting?”

“Please,” Longarm said patiently. “Just do as I ask for this once. Stay back here in the trees. If everything goes as it should, I’ll signal and you can ride in then.”

Diana didn’t like the idea, but she could see that Longarm was quite serious. “All right,” she said at last, “we’ll do it your way. But I’ll be watching from cover, and if anything goes amiss, I’m coming to your rescue.”

“Okay,” Longarm agreed.

Diana leaned out of her saddle and gave him a kiss. “After tonight,” she said, “I vote we take a few weeks off and find even warmer weather. We can have some fun together and relax. What do you say?”

“Sounds good,” Longarm said, “but there could be a problem with my boss back in Denver as well as the mayor and-“

“To hell with them!” Diana touched his cheek. “What have they done for us lately? Nothing. They never even wired you legitimate travel expense money.”

“That’s true,” Longarm admitted as he reined toward the ranch headquarters.

They were all sitting in front of a big stone fireplace playing penny-ante poker, laughing and sipping on whiskey, when Longarm tied his horse up in front of the ranch house and simply walked inside.

“Hey!” Rolf exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Who the hell are you to just walk in here?”

Longarm studied the two women, then Nathan, who was still smiling, and he decided to draw his gun and give them the bad news.

“I’m United States Deputy Marshal Custis Long,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket and dragging out his badge. “And I hate to ruin this party, but you’re all under arrest.”

“On what charges!” Carole cried.

“They’ll vary depending on how much you cooperate,” Longarm answered. “Now, everyone stand up and turn around slowly with your hands over your heads.”

“You can’t do this without telling us what we’re being charged with!” Teresa said angrily.

“All right, passing counterfeit money, aiding and abetting a criminal and fugitive of the law.”

“We didn’t do any of those things!” Carole protested.

“That will be decided later,” Longarm said. “And on top of all that, you gals shot and killed a man in Whiskey Creek.”

“That gunnie was going to kill us!” Rolf cried.

Longarm turned his complete attention on Rolf. “What about Clyde Zolliver?”

“He was another that gave us no choice,” Rolf said. “It was him … or us.”

“Well,” Longarm said, “all I know for sure right now is that you’ve left a path of counterfeit money in your wake along with two dead men. And I’m quite sure that you bought this ranch with bad money.”

Rolf sighed. “Look, Marshal, those two men that we shot were trying to kill us. There are witnesses.”

“I’ve spoken to them.”

“Then you know that we killed in self-defense,” Carole said.

“Maybe.”

“Marshal, if you’d-“

“Hands up,” Longarm ordered, “and turn around. Now!”

The three did as they were told, but Nathan Cox didn’t do anything except look confused.

“Who are you?” he asked as Longarm made sure that the kid and the two women were unarmed. “Do you want to play cards with us?”

“Glad to finally meet you, Nathan Cox?”

“That’s what they call me,” Nathan said. “Are you hungry, mister?”

“I am, but food can wait.”

“No, no! I’ll get something,” Nathan said, heading for the kitchen.

Longarm just let the man go. Not even a professional actor could have faked the blank expression on Cox’s handsome face or the genuine need to be of service.

“Sit down,” Longarm ordered the three after checking to make sure they had no hideout weapons.

“You can’t take my husband all the way back to Denver,” Carole said.

Before Longarm could arrange his thoughts and pose a first question, Nathan came back with a tray of milk and cookies. “I baked them just like Mommy showed me how,” he said happily.

Longarm took a couple and so did the others. They were oatmeal cookies and damned good.

“If you take my husband back to Denver,” Carole said, “they’ll put him in a prison and he’ll be at the mercy of the other prisoners. At best, they’ll ridicule Nathan and make him their slave. At worst … well, you can see that he now has a child’s innocence, and you know what would become of him living among hardened criminals, Marshal Long.”

“Yes,” Longarm said, “but I don’t have the authority to exonerate him from all the crimes he’s committed. And he did kill his Denver accomplice.”

“Who tried to kill him first!” Carole cried.

“Is that what Nathan said?” Longarm asked.

“Yes, and I believe him. They got in a fight and Nathan won.

“I’ve got to take you all back to Denver,” Longarm said. “After that, what happens is up to the court system.”

“They’ll want to imprison Nathan,” Carole said. “And probably us as well.”

“Possibly.”

Longarm sat down in a chair. “But as for those two men who you killed, I am convinced that you did so in self-defense. Especially when you, Mr. Swensen, gunned down Clyde Zolliver in that upstairs hotel hallway.”

Teresa stood up. “And what about all this? We have a fine ranch now. It has helped Nathan to recover. To regain his happiest childhood memories. We’re sure that he can be happy here and that we can all repay society many times over for the damage we’ve caused.”

“I’m sorry,” Longarm said, “but you need to tell that to a judge, not to me.”

“I could make some more cookies,” Nathan interrupted. “It wouldn’t take long.”

“No thanks,” Longarm said.

“Why do you have that thing in your hand?” Nathan asked innocently.

“It’s a gun,” Longarm explained, holstering the weapon.

“And what does it do?”

“It shoots bullets.”

Nathan turned to his wife. “What are bullets, dear Carole?”

“You don’t really want to know.”

Nathan nodded and turned back to Longarm. “You look hungry, so I am going to make more of my mother’s cookies.”

“Thanks,” Longarm said as the man shuffled away.

“You can’t do this to Nathan,” Carole whispered in a trembling voice.

“I am sworn to uphold the law,” Custis heard himself reply. “And so we’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.”

“And the ranch?” Rolf asked. “We bought cattle and they’re going to be delivered next week. And I hired a couple of real cowboys and we’re going to-“

“You had no right to do any of that,” Longarm said, cutting the kid off in mid-sentence before he went to the front door, stuck his arm outside and fired his six-gun.

As expected, Diana came on the run.

“Who is she?” Carole asked.

“A friend of mine,” Longarm answered, “and a former acquaintance of your husband.”

A icy veil of suspicion dropped over Carole’s eyes. “Just make sure that she stays away from my Nathan.”

“No problem,” Custis said a moment before Diana hurried inside.

Longarm would never forget the sight a few moments later when Diana Frank saw Nathan standing in the kitchen making cookie dough and humming some childlike little song from his boyhood. A small cry was torn from Diana’s mouth as she whirled and ran right back out the front door, weeping.

“What’s wrong with her?” Rolf asked, looking confused.

“She loved him,” Carole said, her face no longer hard. “It’s clear to see that she loved my Nathan.”

“Yeah,” Longarm said quietly, “and I’m not too sure she doesn’t still.”

Chapter 17

Longarm woke up at dawn the next morning. After dressing and starting a fire for coffee, he went outside to grain the horses in preparation for a long trip back to Colorado. He had not slept well during the night and felt a little groggy. The way Longarm figured it, the best and easiest way to return to Denver would be to go to Flagstaff, take an eastbound train to Albuquerque, and then make his final destination plans.

The kid had told Longarm where to find the stolen Denver mint plates as well as the currency paper and ink. The three fugitives had decided to hide everything in the barn under some hay. Longarm had pretty well decided to destroy the government currency plates and burn the paper rather than to have to worry about their safe transfer back to Colorado.

The air was clear and cold. The sun was just peeking over the eastern horizon when Longarm stopped outside the barn to admire the sunrise. He was yawning when he thought he heard something move behind him, but before he could react, Buck Zolliver stepped out of the barn, gun up and trained on Longarm’s chest.

“Well, Mister Lawman,” Buck said, his eyes burning with hatred. “I guess it’s finally payback time for you, huh?”

Longarm felt a chill pass through his body. “Maybe.”

“Why don’t you turn around and enjoy your last sunrise. I’ll give you about a minute’s worth.”

“If you shoot me, you’ll wake up everyone in the house,” Longarm said, trying desperately to give himself time to think of a way to get the drop on this hateful giant.

“Lawman, I’m not worried about ‘em.”

“Neither was Clyde, and I expect that’s why he was gunned down in that hotel back in Whiskey Creek. Are you going to make the same mistake?”

Buck’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s the kid?”

“In bed asleep, I expect.”

“And all that counterfeit money and those government plates?”

“I dunno,” Longarm drawled. “I forgot to ask.”

“Liar!”

Buck cocked back the hammer on his six-gun. “I ain’t gonna play any games. Where are they at?”

“The plates or the money?” Longarm asked.

“Both!”

“The kid said that they’re hidden in the barn under some hay. I was just about to look for them myself.”

“Reach down with your left hand and ease that hog-leg out of its holster,” Buck ordered. “Let it drop to the ground and step away from it real slow.”

Longarm saw no choice but to do as he was told. Buck picked up his Colt and shoved it into his waistband.

“Now, Marshal, step inside,” Buck ordered, swinging open both of the barn doors. “And shot or no shot, if you make one false move, I’ll drill you in the guts and then I’ll kill all three of them in the house. Clyde was naked and unarmed when the kid gunned him down. It won’t be the same this time.”

“I expect it wouldn’t be,” Longarm said.

“Inside!”

Longarm went inside, body tight and ready to spring at Buck if he lowered his guard even a little. But the giant never gave him a chance to attack, so Longarm stopped in the middle of the barn.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Find the gawddamn money and counterfeiting plates!”

Longarm knew where to look, but he acted as if he didn’t have a clue and began to rummage around in the straw, poking and prodding, even hoping that he could locate a pitchfork or any damn weapon that he could whip around and throw at Buck just long enough to make a dive for the giant’s legs. If he could get the man down, he’d have a fighting chance. Hell, he’d whipped Buck once and he figured that he could do it again.

“Hurry up!” Buck raged. “Dammit, quit playing games!”

Longarm heard the anger and knew that he could not delay any longer. So he found Nathan’s canvas packs and pulled them out in the open, then knocked off the loose straw.

“Here you are, Buck.”

“Open ‘em!”

Longarm opened the packs. One of them had a lot of counterfeit currency. He grabbed a handful and raised it for the gunman to see. “I expect this is what you’re really after.”

Buck grinned. “You got that right. And I’ll use some of it to find the best printer in the country. He can make me some more.”

“Got it all figured out, huh?”

“You bet I do! I’ve had plenty of time.”

Longarm was about to say something, when he saw a shadow in the doorway and then Nathan appeared. He was smiling and said, “Good morning, everyone.”

Buck whipped around and fired in one smooth motion. Nathan spun and fell and before Buck could pivot back Longarm had already drawn his hidden two-shot .44-caliber derringer that he always kept attached to his Ingersol railroad watch chain and concealed in his vest pocket. The derringer had saved his life on more than one desperate occasion, and it did the same now as Longarm sent both bullets into Buck’s thick chest.

But even with two bullets, Buck somehow managed to stay on his feet long enough to fire a shot that went just wide of Longarm, who threw himself at the dying man’s legs and tackled him to the ground.

Longarm drew back his fist to smash the man, but Buck heaved a deep sigh and breathed no more.

“Nathan!” Longarm said, jumping to his feet. “Nathan, are you all right!”

Nathan was not all right, but the bullet had only grazed his arm. He lay on his back, whimpering, and when Longarm used his bandanna to tie up the wound, Nathan blubbered, “I don’t like guns!”

Longarm helped Nathan to his feet. He heard the front door to the house slam open and knew that more help was on the way.

“Oh, to hell with it!” Longarm swore after Dr. Barry had examined Nathan and pronounced that he was suffering from shock.

“What does that mean?” Diana said.

“It means that I’m going to destroy the Denver mint’s stolen goods and then we’re riding out of here and leaving these people alone.”

Diana’s face lit up. “We are!”

“Yes.”

“But I thought that you said-“

“Yeah,” Longarm agreed, “I did say a lot of things last night about how the courts needed to sort all this out. But I didn’t sleep well on that talk, and now that Nathan has saved my life and taken the bullet meant for me, I’d sleep on it even worse. So I’m destroying the plates and what’s left of the counterfeit money and then we’re riding for Albuquerque.”

“But what will happen to these people!” Diana said, looking at Rolf, Teresa, Carole, and Nathan.

“I dunno,” Longarm said, “but I expect that they’d better learn to become ranchers.”

Diana threw her arms around Longarm and began kissing him. Rolf and the two women from Whiskey Creek began hugging and dancing around in the yard. Longarm’s eyes met those of Dr. Barry, and the physician nodded as an understanding passed between them. Buck’s death would be their secret, and he’d be buried quietly on this ranch. Nothing would ever be said, not even to the local marshal.

Longarm yawned mightily, prompting Diana to say, “What’s the matter, sleepy?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand, “I’m going to tuck you right back into bed.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but am I going to have a chance to sleep?”

“Maybe later,” Diana said with a wink as they shuffled through the crimson glow of sunrise toward the ranch house.