Tabor Evans (10 page)

"You look real nice, Belle," he said. "If you didn't have a husband, I'd sure be interested in you."

And that's the straight-line truth, old son, he thought, even if she don't take what I said exactly like I meant it. I'd be interested in her the same as I am in anybody that lives on the wrong side of the law.

"I've got a rule never to let a husband stop me from doing what I feel like doing, when I like a man," she told him. "No man alive owns Belle Starr, the Bandit Queen. You think that over, Windy."

"Oh, I will. I sure will."

"Now that we've got that out of the way, suppose you tell me who showed you how to find Younger's Bend," she said.

"Nobody."

"Don't lie, Windy. Somebody had to tell you."

"Now, Belle, you know how word gets around. Hell, this place is getting as well-known as the Hole in the Wall, Buzzard's Roost, and Brown's Hole." Longarm named only three of the eight or nine places he knew of, from Wyoming and Utah down to the Big Bend of Texas, where men on the run could drop out of sight of the law. It was a regular network of bolt-holes; none of them were actually unknown to lawmen, but most of the hideouts were natural fortresses that would have taken an army with artillery to penetrate.

"Is that the truth?" Belle seemed pleased and flattered.

"Don't have any reason to lie to you. I disremember who it was told me about Younger's Bend, or where I was when I heard about it, but it's a place I've had in the back of my mind for quite a while."

"And you finally got here. Where are you wanted, Windy?"

"Hold on. You've got your rules, Belle, and I got mine. One of them is that I don't talk about myself."

"Yazoo said you were real close-mouthed. I guess he was right."

"He ought to know," Longarm said with a smile.

"Well, I'm going to let you stay," Belle said. "Ten dollars gold a day for your room and meals. If you're short, I'll take a one-third cut of whatever you bring in from the next job you pull. If you haven't got anything planned, I can work out a deal for you with Floyd and Steed, I suppose."

Longarm took time to fish out a cheroot and light it. When the cigar was drawing well, he asked, "Who are Floyd and Steed?"

"Two of the fellows staying here. They'll be in for supper pretty soon. They've been here quite a while, they'll tell you how easy things are. You know the U.S. law can't touch you here, I guess? Arkansas, Texas, Kansas, Colorado--don't have to worry about any sheriffs from anyplace. Or from the U.S. marshal's office, either."

"That's one of the reasons I'm here," Longarm said truthfully, again letting Belle put her own interpretation on his words.

"I've got a treaty with the Cherokee Nation, you see," Belle went on. Longarm looked up at the word "treaty"; it was the same one that had riled Gower so badly. Belle went on, "The only way the law can come into the Nation is by an invitation from the Indian police, or if they're chasing somebody they've caught on a job."

"So I've heard."

"I was pretty sure you had. But I'm telling you this because I want you to understand how it is here. As long as one of my guests doesn't pull any kind of job in the Nation, my treaty holds. So if you've got any ideas about operating out of here, just be sure it's across one of the state lines."

"I've been moving so fast I ain't had time to look around for any setups for a job," Longarm said.

"Well, when you get ready, you let me know. I can fix up something for you with the fellows I told you about."

"I'll keep it in mind," Longarm promised.

Sam Starr and Bobby came in. "I fed and watered your horse, Windy," Sam said. "Didn't bother your saddle gear, though. Wasn't sure whether you'd be staying or riding on."

"Windy's staying awhile," Belle announced. "Now, you'd better see to supper, Sam. Floyd and Steed will be showing up any minute, yelling how hungry they are. And be sure you set a place for Windy."

Almost before Belle had finished speaking, loud voices outside announced the arrival of the other two outlaws. They burst into the house, still arguing. One of them said to Belle, "Tell this damn fool he's seeing things, Belle. Steed says he seen Sam and Bobby hauling Mckee's body up to the grove a few minutes ago."

"He wasn't seeing things, Floyd," Belle replied. "Mckee's dead. Sam's going to bury him right after supper."

"See! I was right!" Steed said.

Steed was the blustering type. He was in his mid-twenties, high-colored, husky, broad-shouldered, heavy of leg and thigh. His hands looked like small hams, and his neck was as thick as a steer's. He had a pistol stuck into his belt; Longarm wondered if he made a habit of carrying a gun that way. More than one careless gun-handler who took up the habit of toting an unholstered gun stuck between belly and belt had checked out with a set of bullet-riddled guts.

Floyd was Steed's antithesis. He was pale, his eyes a watery blue, his hair the shade of unbleached tow. His hands were small, almost delicate. His face was thin, and somehow managed to look mournful even when he was smiling. In repose, he appeared to be suffering from either chronic melancholy or a stomach-ache. Floyd carried his revolver in a cross-draw holster, high on his left side. Longarm marked him as being the one to keep an eye on.

While Belle confirmed Mckee's death, Floyd's lips compressed into an even thinner line than they were normally. He asked Belle, "What happened to him?"

"You'll have to ask Windy." Belle pointed to Longarm, who hadn't moved when the two men came in. "There was some sort of old grudge between him and Mckee, and he settled it!"

Floyd wheeled to face Longarm. "You shot Mckee?"

"Yes. He drew on me."

"Why?"

"That was between Mckee and me. It's no business of yours."

Longarm's voice was level, emotionless.

Floyd frowned. "Maybe I choose to make it my business."

"Suit yourself," Longarm said with a laconic shrug.

Belle intervened. "Hold on, Floyd. I saw what happened. So did Sam, so did Bobby and Yazoo, if he could see anything at all, drunk as he was by then."

"Stay out of this, Belle," Floyd told the Bandit Queen. His voice was a sad whisper. He faced Longarm again. "Mckee was a friend of mine."

"Too bad. He was no friend of mine."

"Why'd you kill him?"

"He'd have killed me if I hadn't," Longarm said quietly.

"That's right, Floyd," Sam Starr put in. "All of us saw what happened, Belle, me, Bobby, and Yazoo. Mckee saw Windy, started cussing him, and went for his gun. Windy got his Out first. That's the way it happened. Windy didn't make the first move." Floyd appeared not to have heard what Sam said. He was looking Longarm up and down. Finally he snarled, "Windy! That's no name! Who in hell are you?"

"Your eyesight's bad, Floyd. You can see who I am," Longarm replied. He kept his voice even. He didn't want a showdown with Floyd, but he couldn't let the outlaw back him down, either.

"Where'd You come from?" Floyd demanded.

"Outside."

"God damn it, that's no answer!" Floyd was whipping up his anger. When Longarm said nothing, Floyd turned to Belle. "You know him, Belle?"

"No. Yazoo does, though. He said he was all right."

"What the hell does that old whiskeypot know about anything?" Floyd demanded of no one in particular.

Belle said sharply, "You listen to me, Floyd Sharpless! This is my place you're on. I told Windy he was welcome here, just like I've told you. But You won't be welcome if you keep trying to stir up trouble, do You understand me?"

"I understand You," Floyd shot back hotly. "That don't mean I'm going to leave off until I find out about this Windy here."

"Let me tell you something else," Belle said. "Mckee had his hand on his gun before Windy went for his. Windy had a bullet through Mckee before he could get his gun up and let off a shot. And Mckee was quicker than you are."

"Quit trying to scare me, Belle."

"I'm not trying to scare you, I'm just trying to hammer some sense into your head. Now I'll tell you flat out, Floyd, give up on Mckee and why he had a shootout with Windy--it's not your affair. It happened before you and Mckee hooked up. And if you're not careful, all those big plans you've been making are going right out to the hogpen, because if you break my rule against fighting here, I'm going to invite you to leave Younger's Bend."

"How the hell is my plan going to work without Mckee?" Floyd demanded. "You know I was depending on him, Belle."

"There'll be somebody else along to fill his place," she said.

Steed had been quiet, standing at one side of the room while Floyd and Belle argued. Now he said, "Belle's right, Floyd. We still got Bobby. And Taylor's due to blow in pretty soon."

"That's still only four," Floyd pointed out. "All of us agreed we need at least five, and six would be better."

Longarm's interest had been growing ever since the subject of plans had come up. In Floyd's terms, that could only mean a major job of outlawry, especially if it required a half-dozen men to carry it out. He said nothing, though, letting Belle and Floyd settle the dispute he'd caused between them.

Belle said, "Let's get this settled once and for all, Floyd. I had as much to do with that plan as you did. I want to see you go through with it. Now, take my word, I'll find somebody to fill in for Mckee."

Floyd's anger had been deflected from Longarm by his dispute with Belle. He said bitterly, "Sure. Who's it going to be? Yazoo?"

"Who wants me?" Yazoo stirred and sat up. He looked around the room with bleary eyes.

"Nobody wants you, old man," Floyd replied. "Go on back to sleep and sober up."

"Stay awake, Yazoo," Belle commanded.

Yazoo looked from Belle to Floyd and said, "I wish you two'd make up your mind." He reached for the whiskey bottle on the table.

Belle turned back to Floyd and said, "You'd better have a drink with him, Floyd, and take that edge off your nerves. Sit down now, and don't stir up any more trouble with Windy."

Floyd glared at her angrily, but obeyed. He took a chair and placed it as far from Longarm as the size of the table permitted.

"Sam, get the food dished up," Belle told her husband.

Starr had been standing indecisively at one side of the room, close to Bobby, during the argument between Belle and Floyd. He took a stack of plates out of one of the KC Baking Powder boxes nailed to the wall, and distributed them around the table. Steed and Bobby moved up to sit down, Belle watched them for a moment before joining them, then chose a place next to Longarm.

"Things aren't like this every day," she told him.

"I guess the ruckus is mostly my fault," Longarm said. "Sorry I stirred things up, Belle. But like you told Floyd a minute ago, you saw how it all happened."

"I know it wasn't your fault, Windy. Nobody's blaming you for anything." Belle seemed pleased that Longarm had made the gesture of apologizing. She went on, "I like my guests to get along together, but You men do disagree now and then."

Sam began dishing up. He walked around the table, ladling out stew onto the plates. Longarm looked at his serving. There were chunks of meat and pieces of carrot, Onion, and potato in a thin gravy. Next to him, Yazoo was already eating hungrily.

Belle noticed Longarm's hesitation. "Sam's a better cook than you might think, Windy. Eat up. You'll like it." Longarm said, "I bet I will, at that." He took a sample bite, found the stew edible, and continued to eat.

Sam brought a pan of biscuits from the stove and put it in the middle of the table. Longarm and Floyd reached at the same time, and their hands met over the biscuit pan.

"Help yourself, Floyd," Longarm invited. "I ain't in all that big a hurry."

Floyd grunted and seemed about to speak, but changed his mind. He took a biscuit and went back to his food. Apparently he'd decided to leave matters as they were, at least for the moment.

Sam saw that the biscuit pan was empty, and brought a full one to replace it. Then he went back to the stove, pulled a chair up to it, and began to eat his own meal off the warming shelf. Since no one commented on this, or invited Starr to join the group at the table, Longarm got a pretty clear idea of the status Belle's husband held at Younger's Bend.

Supper was a generally silent meal. Yazoo and Belle were the only ones at the table who had much to say, and when their efforts to start a conversation met with no response from Floyd, Steed, or Longarm, they subsided. Sam Starr kept an eye on the table, and when a plate was emptied, he brought the stew pot from the stove to replenish it. Longarm took a second helping, as did everyone except Belle. The stew was surprisingly tasty, though privately Longarm thought that no stew would ever be a substitute for a good steak served up with a heap of fried potatoes on the platter with it.

"You'd better let the dishes go until later, Sam," Belle said when it was apparent that everyone had finished. "I'd like to see Mckee buried before it gets too dark, and you've still got the grave to dig."

Floyd spoke up, "You never mind about burying Mckee, Sam. Me and Steed will take care of that."