Ray lowered one hand and opened his dust coat to reveal the badge of office.

  ‘Ride in, but slow,’ the woman commanded and Ray did as he was told. ‘Now throw down that side iron.’

  ‘I’d rather not, ma’am. Takes a heap o’ time to clean it up. But I will hand it to you, butt first.’ Ray tried a half-smile.

  Ray walked his mount right up to the woman and began to draw his Colt.

  ‘Left hand!’ she ordered, and Ray handed her the Colt with his left hand.

  ‘Now the rifle, again, left hand.’

  He handed over the rifle and this time gave a full smile.

  ‘I guess you can water your horse,’ the woman said. ‘Trough over by the barn.’ She pointed.

  ‘Thank you kindly, ma’am. I was wonderin’ if you had any spare vitals, I’ll gladly pay.’

  ‘I can rustle up some. I got some stew that’s about ready, you’re welcome to have some.’

  ‘That would be most welcome, ma’am,’ Ray said.

  ‘And stop calling me ma’am. My name’s Sue.’

  ‘Sue it is then; please call me Ray.’

  Ray walked his horse to the trough, let it drink for a while then tethered it to a corral post.

  ‘Nice place you got here,’ Ray said, stripping off his range coat and shaking the trail dust from it.

  ‘Thank you. It’s hard work, but I enjoy it.’

  ‘If’n you don’t mind me askin’, there no menfolk here?’

  Sue bristled slightly before answering.

  ‘My husband was killed almost two years ago,’ she replied.

  ‘Sorry to hear that, ma’— Sue. Didn’t mean to pry.’

  She didn’t elaborate. ‘You can camp out in the barn, there’s plenty of hay in there. It’ll be dark in an hour,’ Sue said, in what to Ray sounded like a nervous voice.

  ‘I ’preciate that. I’ll be outta your hair come sunup.’

  ‘I’ll sort some provisions for you. There isn’t much, but I’ll do what I can.’

  Ray took out his billfold.

  ‘I don’t want your money,’ Sue said, ‘but if you have any spare .45s, that would be more useful to me.’

  ‘Sure have, I’ll get a box from my saddle bag now.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Sue said, a little embarrassed at being so forthright. ‘Maybe your horse could do with some oats – there’s some in the barn, help yourself. I’ll serve up some stew, before you go.’

  ‘Thank you, Sue. Kind of you. An’ that was a mighty fine stew, I’m fit to bustin’,’ Ray said with a silly grin on his face after he’d eaten.

  While Sue tidied away the dishes and put the rest of the stew back on the stove, Ray took a good long look at her.

  Her shoulder-length brown hair hung loosely about her face. A face that would hearten any man. Ruby red lips that seemed in a permanent pout that sent a shiver down his spine. Her large green eyes sparkled as she washed the dishes and her figure-hugging jeans and shirt didn’t deny her femininity.

  Ray felt as though he was in a daydream as he gazed at her, and when she turned suddenly to ask if he wanted coffee, he felt himself blush, as if he’d been caught spying on her.

  ‘Er, sure, yes please,’ he managed to say, his voice thick.

  Sue noticed his embarrassment and he caught sight of a smile as she turned back to the stove.

  ‘I’ll get those slugs,’ Ray said and left the house and walked across to the barn. His horse whinnied as he approached. ‘Don’t worry, boy, getting you some food now.’

  He filled his Stetson with oats and walked back to the horse, placed his hat on the ground and patted the animal, then opened his saddle bag and took out a box of .45s. There were ten boxes in there, 20 slugs to a box, he worked out, 200 slugs in all, more than enough. He took out a second box and smiled.

  The sun was almost setting, the red glow to the west sinking fast. The slight breeze felt cool and refreshing as it caressed his face and Ray felt unexpectedly happy.

  He walked back to the house, noting how beautiful the scenery was, something he rarely did, and he smiled – broadly.

  He handed over the bullets, their fingers touching as he did so, and Ray felt what he could only describe as an electric shock. The only time he’d ever felt that before was when a bolt of lightning hit a tree nearby and he got a mild shock.

  He saw Sue blush slightly, only enhancing her beauty, and then he knew she had felt it too.

  Awkwardly, he said goodnight.

  ‘I’ll show you where you can put your horse, and where you can sleep,’ Sue said. Equally awkwardly.

  ‘That was a fine damn watch you jus’ destroyed,’ Chad said. ‘We coulda sold that for a few dollars.’

  ‘Weren’t his watch, was my old one that ain’t worked in months, ever since we was caught up in that sandstorm.’ Burt grinned at Chad.

  ‘Son of a gun, you dog,’ Chad said, laughing.

  ‘Don’t matter which way, I guess we better cut an’ run. Maybe find another saloon afore we go to bed,’ Burt said. ‘Lotta folks staring at us now.’

  ‘Good thinking. We’ll wander down a ways and see what gives.’ Chad was already heading for the door. Burt started to follow.

  ‘Hold up a while, boys,’ a genial voice asked. ‘Let me buy you a drink. That Ernie was always mouthin’ off. Too big fer his breeches.

  ‘Name’s Earl, Jed Earl, gotta proposition that would suit two fine men who know how to handle a gun,’ Earl went on.

  ‘An’ what sorta proposition would that be?’ Chad asked.

  ‘The kind that pays $500 for a few minutes’ work,’ Earl replied, guiding them to his table, where there was already a full bottle of bourbon and three glasses.

  ‘Take a seat and help yourselves,’ Earl said.

  Chad poured three fingers into each of the shot glasses and downed his in one go. Earl sipped at his and Burt left his glass on the table.

  ‘So, what do we have to do for $500?’ Burt asked.

  ‘Kill a man,’ Earl replied, filling his and Chad’s glass again.

  ‘Any partic’lar reason?’ Chad asked.

  ‘Nothing that need concern you. Let’s just say he has something I want and the only way I can get it is for him to be dead.’ Earl looked at each man in turn.

  Burt picked up his drink and downed it in one, refilling it again.

  ‘I got no problem with that,’ Burt said. ‘Providing we get the money up front.’

  ‘Two-fifty as a down payment and another two fifty when the job is done. That fair enough?’ Earl again looked from one man to the other.

  ‘Let’s see the colour of your money,’ Chad said.

  Furtively, looking all around him, Earl placed his hand inside his coat pocket. Instinctively, both Chad and Burt placed their hands on their pistols.

  ‘Whoa! No need for that,’ Earl said, ‘just getting the money out.’

  Keeping his fist bunched, Earl placed a roll of notes on the table, but kept his hand on it. ‘Too many prying eyes,’ he said, winking.

  Chad leaned forward and covered Earl’s hand, Earl removed his hand, and Chad grabbed the money. Under the table, he flicked through the notes.

  ‘Seems to be all here,’ he said to Burt. ‘OK, when, where and who?’

  ‘The “when” is as soon as possible. The “where” is up to you. The “who” is over at the bar right now. White Stetson, green shirt.’

  Chad and Burt scanned the men at the bar until they saw their quarry.

  ‘He don’t look up to much,’ Burt commented.

  ‘Just a kid, by the looks,’ Chad added.

  ‘Be that as it may, he’s the man I want dead, savvy?’ Earl said.

  Burt stood. ‘Watch my back, bro,’ he said to Chad.

  Calmly, he walked to the bar and stood beside the man in the green shirt. He took out a five dollar bill and dropped it on the floor.

  ‘Hey, mister, looks like you dropped some money there.’ Burt pointed to the note.

  As the man stooped to retrieve the bill, Burt drew his knife and slit the man’s throat in one easy motion. He even had time to wipe the blade clean on the man’s bandanna.

  Green shirt fell, face down, and the men around him laughed. ‘Too much to drink, eh, Jed,’ one said mockingly. Burt had gone back to his table before anyone saw the rapidly spreading pool of blood.

  ‘Jeez!’ His drinking buddies turned the body over and saw the deep, red, slash across the man’s throat.

  ‘Quick, someone get the doc! He ain’t dead yet!’

  Blood gurgled from the man’s throat as he fought, in vain, to breathe and stay alive. After three minutes, the gurgling stopped and the blood flow began to ebb and Green shirt breathed his last.

  ‘That’s $250 you owe us,’ Burt said nonchalantly, filling his glass with bourbon as if nothing had happened.

  Earl sat open-mouthed at the audacity of the killing, he couldn’t quite get his head round it.

  ‘Er, yeah, sure.’ Earl fumbled in his coat pocket and brought out the money, again keeping it in his hand palm down, and as Burt covered his hand, Earl withdrew his and Burt checked the money under the table.

  ‘Seems our business here is done,’ Chad said. He drained his glass and he and his brother left the saloon.

  Earl sat speechless.

  But now Earl would offer his condolences to the beautiful widow of Jed.

  He smiled.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ray woke from a troubled sleep. His brain was buzzing, tossing between what he knew was his duty in bringing the Slim brothers to justice and the feelings that were growing for Sue. He kept seeing her face in his dreams as it transmogrified into the Slim boys.

  That woke him up.

  Standing, he stretched his weary frame and walked to the water trough, shirtless. He splashed cold water over his face and then over his upper torso. That really woke him up.

  Sue was standing in the doorway of the house, watching him wash. She noticed his taut, muscular body and shivered, dismissing the thoughts that filled her head.

  When Ray had finished, she called out to him, ‘Breakfast is ready.’

  Ray, caught by surprise, almost jumped, feeling slightly embarrassed at his state of undress.

  ‘Be right there, ma’— Sue,’ he stuttered, the awkwardness returning.

  Quickly throwing on his shirt, he fumbled with the buttons in his haste to get it on. ‘Pull yourself together,’ he muttered to himself and took several long, deep breaths.

  Entering the house, the aroma of bacon with a background of freshly brewed coffee filled his nostrils and his mouth watered.

  ‘Morning, Sue,’ he said.

  ‘Morning, Ray,’ she answered.

  There was a thick atmosphere between them, each having thoughts they couldn’t voice – at least, not yet.

  ‘Take a seat, eggs are ready,’ Sue said, merely to make conversation.

  They ate in silence, each casting furtive glances at the other and averting their eyes when eye contact was made.

  When he’d finished eating, and drained the last of the coffee, Ray stood. ‘Thank you, Sue, that was a great breakfast.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ she replied. ‘I’ve packed a few things for your journey in a gunny sack. It’s there on the sideboard.’

  ‘Thank you again, I’ll return the sack.’

  ‘I hope so.’ Sue blushed sweetly.

  Ray smiled, showing white, even teeth. ‘I best be going, there’s a storm brewing.’

  ‘Take care and make sure you bring that sack back.’ Sue quickly pecked him on the cheek.

  To Ray, it felt like a branding iron – without the pain. His head was swimming in delight as he saddled up. Mounting, Sue ran over holding the sack.

  ‘You forgot this,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Be seeing you – soon, I hope,’ Ray said and tipped his Stetson.

  ‘I hope so, too,’ she replied demurely.

  Ray set his horse to a steady canter, heading north. The sun’s rays were warm on his back and his heart wanted to stay with Sue, but he knew what he had to do.

  He could be wrong, he thought. Maybe the Slim brothers didn’t head for Rochester and this would turn out to be a wild goose chase. He only hoped that Otis had hidden the foreclosure notice and the map and that a federal marshal would visit Bristow.

  And then there was Sue.

  Ray’s head was spinning. He knew he had to pull himself together and concentrate on the job in hand. There was no way you could track down two vicious killers with your head in the clouds.

  He had no tracks to follow, just his own gut reaction. Putting himself in the same position as the Slim brothers, he was following what he would have done, and he headed for Rochester.

  By mid-afternoon, the sheriff was just five miles south of Rochester. The weather had begun to change as the day wore on, summer was over and fall was beginning to take over. In this part of the country the change of season was often dramatic, sunshine one day, snow the next. There was a chill in the air and clouds scudded across the sky. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the snows came, laying a blanket of white across the landscape.

  When he was barely two miles south of Rochester, Ray could smell the town before he could see it. The head wind carried with it the smells of smoke, beer and tobacco fumes and, after the crystal clear air of the prairie, civilization? Ray pondered.

  He reined in and dismounted and, after watering his horse, rolled a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Was he on a fool’s errand? Only time would tell.

  He finished his cigarette and mounted up. His stomach rumbled, but he figured on keeping his rations and eating in Rochester as he didn’t know what he’d do if there was no trace of the killers. He rode on.

  ‘Best we high-tail it outa here, bro,’ Chad said. ‘The law might be bought in this town but we’re strangers, the sheriff might want to make an example of us to please his bosses. What do you think?’

  ‘Yeah, I agree,’ Burt replied. ‘Tired o’ this place anyways. We got a good stake, let’s ride.’

  After the quiet of the prairie, the hustle and bustle of a prosperous town sounded like thunder in Ray’s ears.

  The weather had taken a turn; thick black clouds obscured the sun, bringing a premature twilight. Already stores and offices were showing lantern light and as he rode down Main Street, a man was busy lighting the street lanterns, their soft yellow glow casting eerie shadows.

  His first port of call was at the livery stables, making sure his horse was watered and fed and given a good brush down to get rid of the trail dust, and now it was his turn.

  Following his nose, he found a small café that had a bill of fare in the window. Prices looked reasonable and he went in.

  There were eight tables, three unoccupied, and Ray chose one by the front window where he had a good view of Main Street.

  ‘What’ll it be, stranger?’ A young waitress with long red hair and the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen and a smile as broad as the Mississippi had approached him.

  ‘Gotta be steak, rare, biscuits and tatters,’ Ray replied.

  ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Yes, please, I could drink a bucketful,’ Ray said smiling.

  ‘Coming right up,’ the waitress said and walked back to the kitchen.

  Out on Main Street, the Slim brothers walked their horses, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. They were leaving town. They’d checked out of their rooms, the clerk apologizing because he wasn’t allowed to give refunds. Strangely, the sight of Burt’s frontiersman right under his nose gave him a sudden change of heart.

  Chad suddenly stopped. ‘Burt, café window!’

  ‘Goddamn! Ain’t that the sheriff of Bristow?’

  ‘Sure is. Let’s keep riding and we’ll figure what to do about it,’ Chad said and heeled his horse into a walk.

  Ray finished his meal and drained the last of his coffee as the waitress reappeared. ‘We got some homemade apple pie,’ she said, again the beaming smile.

  ‘Miss, that was the best steak I had in a long time and I’m full to the rafters, but thank you anyways,’ Ray said, placing $5 on the table.

  ‘That’s a dollar too much,’ the waitress said.

  ‘The extra dollar is for your smile.’ Ray surprised himself that he’d said it out loud.

  The waitress blushed a deep red, but the smile was still there.

  ‘Thank you kindly,’ she said as she picked up the money. She walked back towards the kitchen, giving Ray a glance over her shoulder as she went.

  Ray stood, put his Stetson on and said, ‘Bye’ as he left the café. Now he needed a drink. The Barrel House was opposite, so he decided to head on in there, they might even have a room for the night if he was lucky.

  The saloon was packed and raucous; the piano was going full tilt and the sounds of laughter and general conversation sounded like thunder after the silence out on the prairie.

  Ray fought his way to the bar top and ordered a beer. ‘You got a room for the night?’ he asked the barkeep.

  ‘Sure, single or double? We got some fine young fillies working here,’ the barkeep said with a wink.

  ‘Just a single,’ Ray replied.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ the barkeep said as he placed a frothy glass of beer on the counter. ‘Room’s $4, beer’s 50 cents.’

  Ray handed over a ten, but held on to it.

  ‘I’m looking for two fellas who might have come this way. You seen two strangers recently?’

  ‘Mister, I see strangers every day, in fact, I’m talkin’ to one now!’

  ‘I’m Sheriff Ray Cairney of Bristow, and these two fellas’re brothers and vicious killers, so I need to know if’n you seen any strangers that might fit. Both around six feet tall with long hair, clean shaven last I saw ’em. They’re vicious killers,’ Ray reiterated, urging the man to think.

  ‘I see’d ’em,’ a voice behind Ray piped up.

  Ray spun round. ‘See’d, I mean, seen what?’

  ‘Them two fellas.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘They shot Ernie over yonder when he went to get his pocket watch back, an’ I see’d one of ’em slit the throat of another man, right where you be standing, mister. No one else see’d that, but I did.’