A Coffin for Santa Rosa Read Online Free Page A

white grips – kind you see in a Wild West show.’
    Gabriel felt another twinge of uneasiness. ‘Happen to recall what color his hair was?’
    ‘Sorry, friend. He never took off his hat.’ The cattlemen went back to their whiskey and conversation.
    Returning to his table, Gabriel poured himself a drink, gulped half of it down then sat there watching the door. He sensed trouble was approaching and under the table kept one hand on his Colt.
    He didn’t have long to wait. He’d barely finished his drink when Sheriff Cobb entered. The veteran lawman was unarmed but with him was a gangling young deputy holding a Colt 12-gauge side-by-side shotgun.
    A short hard-bellied man, hatless, with iron-gray hair, a weathered, intelligent face and drooping gray mustaches, the sheriff motioned for the deputy to remain by the door and then confronted Gabriel.
    ‘Mind if I sit down, Mr Jennings?’
    Gabriel tensed. Anyone who called him that knew he was an outlaw. And if the person was a lawman, it could lead to a rope. For a moment he considered shooting the deputy before the deputy could shoot him; but remembering his obligation to Ingrid and Raven, he restrained himself and motioned for the sheriff to sit. The lawman obeyed, making sure his movements were slow and non-threatening. Gabriel, ready to slap leather at any instant, signaled to the barkeep to bring them another glass.
    The barkeep obeyed.
    Neither Gabriel nor the sheriff moved, even blinked, until the barkeep returned behind the bar. Then Sheriff Cobb poured himself a drink, raised the glass in silent toast and downed it.
    ‘First thing I want to say, son, is I’m not lookin’ for trouble.’
    ‘Makes two of us.’
    ‘Glad to hear that. Maybe now you can quit nursin’ your iron.’
    ‘Not till your deputy, there, lowers his thunder-gun.’
    ‘Reasonable.’ The sheriff nodded at the deputy, who lowered his side-by-side.
    Gabriel brought his hand up and laid it beside his other hand on the table. The two men studied each other like wary Alpha wolves. Gradually the tension between them lessened, but it still crackled like high voltage.
    Sheriff Cobb poured himself another shot, grimacing as the cheap whiskey burned his throat. ‘’Cording to Mr Dunbar, the station agent, you’re here to bury kin.’
    ‘Not here. Outside Santa Rosa.’
    ‘Please accept my deepest condolences.’
    Gabriel nodded his thanks but said nothing.
    ‘That means you’ll be movin’ on in the morning?’
    ‘’Fore sunup – ’less you’n that scattergun got other plans.’
    Sheriff Cobb smiled without humor. ‘That’s to make sure you leave, son, not stay.’
    ‘So you ain’t lookin’ to collect the reward?’
    ‘Money’s no good if you’re feet-up. And we both know you could put a hole in me ’fore that fool nephew of mine could pull the trigger.’
    ‘Possible.’
    ‘Possible – impossible – either way it’s a risk I’m not anxious to take.’
    ‘Not even for a thousand in gold?’
    ‘Is that what the reward is now? Been so long since I’ve seena poster I’d forgotten. But to answer your question, Mr Jennings, no – it’s not worth the risk. I’ve got a little money stashed away and I’ll be adding more to it shortly. I can only do that if I’m still sunny-side up. Besides, folks around here pay me to keep the peace, not rile things up.’
    ‘That why you ain’t packing?’
    ‘I don’t carry a gun, Mr Jennings, ’cause I got no need for it. Times are changing. Gunmen like yourself – and I don’t mean this as an insult – your days are winding down. Pretty soon, Washington and maybe even state governments will pass laws forbiddin’ a man to carry a sidearm.’
    Gabriel found that hard to imagine, but kept his thoughts to himself. Downing his rye, he poured them both another. ‘Anythin’ else, Sheriff?’
    ‘Matter of fact, yes.’ Moving cautiously, hands always in sight, the sheriff pulled a piece of paper and a stubby pencil from his vest