A Coffin for Santa Rosa Read Online Free Page B

pocket and placed them before Gabriel. ‘I’d like your John Henry. It’s a hobby of mine,’ he said as Gabriel looked puzzled. ‘Collecting the names of famous shootists I’ve run into. Earp, Garrett, the Kid, Doc Holliday – I got ’em all.’
    ‘An’ you want to add mine to the list, that it?’
    ‘I suppose it’s a tad ghoulish,’ the sheriff admitted. ‘But I’m hangin’ up my star soon and when I do, I intend to write my memoirs. According to this publisher I met, folks back East crave that sort of trash. And the more autographs and pictures the better. Says I’ll make enough money to retire in style. Name’s Cobb,’ he added as Gabriel picked up the pencil. ‘Andrew J. Cobb. With two b’s.’
    Gabriel licked the lead of the pencil stub and signed his name.
    ‘Gabriel Moonlight?’ Sheriff Cobb looked puzzled.
    ‘That’s my birth-given name.’
    ‘What about Mesquite Jennings?’
    ‘I stole that from a dime novel. I was always was on the prodback then an’ it sounded like the kind of name an outlaw would have.’
    The sheriff grunted. ‘I’ll be damned. Well, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d sign that name for me. After all,’ he said when Gabriel didn’t answer, ‘you are still a wanted man, Mr Moonlight. So it wouldn’t actually be a lie, would it?’
    ‘Reckon not.’ Gabriel scrawled Mesquite Jennings across the paper.
    ‘Much obliged.’ Sheriff Cobb tucked pencil and paper away and got to his feet. ‘Figure on comin’ back this way any time soon?’
    ‘Hard to say.’
    ‘Well, if you do, look me up. I’ll buy you a drink before puttin’ you on the train.’ He paused to let his words sink in. Then getting no response from Gabriel, he finished his drink, tipped his hat and started for the door.
    ‘Sheriff—’ Gabriel waited for the lawman to turn and look at him. ‘My signature … is it worth more if I’m dead?’
    ‘A lot more,’ Sheriff Cobb said. ‘But I’m a patient man, son, so no need to rush things on my account.’ Chuckling, he walked out the door followed by the deputy.
    Gabriel poured himself another drink, drank, and looked at his reflection in the mirror hanging behind the bar.
    The man staring back at him looked weary but fearless.
    Gabriel raised his glass in silent toast, drank, and left.
     
    Once outside in the cooling dusk, he quickly stepped to the right of the bat-wing doors so that he wasn’t silhouetted against the light inside the cantina.
    He stood there a moment, insects whining about his ears, searching the faces of passing pedestrians, wagon drivers and horsemen to see if he recognized anyone. He didn’t. Nor could he see anyone lurking among the false-fronted buildings across the street, or hiding on the rooftops, either. Could he bemistaken, he wondered. Could the card player be someone other than Latigo Rawlins, a deadly Texas gunman who was both a hired gun and a bounty hunter? What little description Gabriel had been given fitted Latigo. Admittedly, it fitted other people too. But if it wasn’t Latigo, who was it and why had he taken off so suddenly? Didn’t he want Gabriel to see him? Was he an outlaw himself? Did he mistake Gabriel for a lawman, and high-tailed it out of the cantina rather than face him?
    Having more questions than answers, Gabriel decided to let things play out. Stepping off the boardwalk, he warily crossed the street and entered the Commercial Hotel.
     
    Collecting his key at the front desk, he went up to his room and knocked on the door. ‘It’s me, scout – Gabe.’
    Raven opened the door. ‘Well?’ she asked, stepping back so he could get a good look at her. ‘What do you think?’
    He frowned and pretended to be puzzled. ‘Thought you were goin’ to take a bath an’ get all gussied up?’
    ‘Very funny. Ha ha,’ she said, punching him. ‘Now quit your joshin’ and tell me how I look?’
    Gabriel studied her. She’d bathed, brushed her short shiny black hair so that it