City of Widows Read Online Free

bench in overalls with one strap gone, brogans with black steel toes poking through the leather, and a slouch hat with no more shape than a bar rag. He was shirtless and the hair on his chest was pale against the boiled skin.
    â€œI need a saddle horse for a couple of hours,” I said. “What’s the best you’ve got?”
    He had to tip his head all the way back to see up from under his flop brim. He was a towheaded twenty, a surprise. He had slat shoulders and the general dilapidated posture of a man in his seventies.
    â€œDepends on what you want it for. I got a buckskin wouldn’t throw a child or a fly but you’d have to carry it back from the lip of town on your hip.”
    â€œIt has to carry me out to the Whiteside ranch and back. No flies or children.”
    His head dropped. “Patch get you.”
    â€œI heard the Apaches were raiding Arizona this year.”
    â€œPatch don’t know when he’s across the line.” He spat. The spittle evaporated in the air.
    â€œI’m obliged for your time,” I said, turning. “There’s another stable.”
    â€œDon’t get your bowels in an uproar, mister. She’s too hot to argue.” He stood, stretched, and went inside. The sun moved, and then he came back out leading a gaunt bay by its bridle. Its hip sockets showed and its right eye was milky.
    â€œThat’s as good as it gets?”
    â€œGood as you get anyway. You don’t have to stand in front of my uncle and tell him Patch et his sorrel for noon dinner.” He tipped his head. “What’s that for?”
    I had drawn the Deane-Adams. I plugged a cartridge into the empty chamber and spun the cylinder with a diamondback buzz. “I want to be sure I have enough shells to hit a swift-moving target like you once I finish putting this sack of umbrellas out of its misery.”
    â€œHold on, mister. There’s law in this county.”
    â€œCurious thing about the law. It almost always gets off the second shot.” I holstered the revolver. “Ten minutes from now I’m going to step out the front door of the Socorro Hotel and throw a leg over an animal with some kind of pulse. If I should fall off the porch for lack of anything to break my drop, the law in this county is going to hold an inquest over your remains. That’s if it can find a difference.”
    â€œTwo dollars for the day,” he said after a minute. “Saddle’s fifty cents extra.”
    â€œI’ll use my own.” I handed him two cartwheels and left.
    A sorrel with some years left on it was hitched at the rail when I came out carrying my gear. The boy was there and so was Frank Baronet. The sheriff had on a Prince Albert and a pinch hat squared over his brows. His thumbs were hooked inside the armholes of his vest and the gutta-percha handle of the large-bore Remington poked out of the notch above his belt buckle. He looked like an election poster.
    He blinked up at the sky. “There’s worse days for a ride.”
    â€œNot in Montana.” I set down the saddle and Winchester and smoothed my faded blanket over the horse’s back. “Is it always like this?”
    â€œNine months out of the year. Then it heats up.”
    I slung the saddle into place, jerked the cinch before the animal could puff itself up. It whickered and tried to crawl out of its skin. “I heard you had a row.”
    â€œYes sir, I did. I’m going to miss old Sid. It’s sad what the love of money will do to a Christian.”
    â€œThe cards must have gone sour for him all at once. He was a piece ahead when I left.”
    â€œThey will do that. I won back the table stakes plus an interest in his real business when he got frisky with that belly gun he carried. His widow can keep the store. I only let him wager it because he was determined to quit even. If I knew how determined I’d have shut down the game.”
    â€œI guess you