himself.”
TWENTY
“Governor?” Gryder said.
The governor turned, drink in hand, and looked at Gryder, then at Clint.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said to the other three men. “Time for me to meet the guest of honor.”
The three men, no doubt local dignitaries, waited to see if they would be introduced as well. When it was plain that this was not to be the case, they moved away.
“Governor,” Will Gryder said, “this is Clint Adams.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Adams,” the man said, extending his hand.
Clint shook hands with the politician and said, “I’m told I have you to thank for this.”
“This party?” the governor said. “That’s all Laura Linquist.”
“I mean the campaign,” Clint said, playing along with the official story. “It was your idea that I run.”
“And a brilliant idea, I think,” the governor said.
“Well,” Clint said, “I guess that’s something we’re going to find out.”
The governor looked at Gryder.
“Will, why don’t you give me some time with Clint?” he said.
“That’s fine, Governor,” Gryder said. “I have to talk to Laura anyway.”
“And have somebody bring Clint a drink, won’t you?”
“Sure.”
“Champagne,” the governor said.
“I’ll have Carla bring it over.”
“Fine, fine,” the governor said. “Lovely girl.”
Gryder nodded and walked away.
“Clint,” the governor said, “can I call you that?”
“Of course, sir.”
“I think running you for Congress here in Texas is going to be one of the best ideas I ever had. I think you’re going to prove me right.”
“I hope so, Governor.”
“Look at all these people,” he said, taking in the room with a wave of his hand. “They’re all trying to look at you without really looking. They’re all looking at your gun. They’ve never seen a politician who wears a gun.”
“I doubt they’ll let me wear it in Washington, D.C., if I get there.”
“Well, that’s okay,” the governor said. “By then you’ll already be in office and it won’t matter.”
“I hope you’re right,” Clint said, even though he would have hated to be elected. In fact, he hated this party, and his boots were killing his feet.
“Ah, here comes the lovely lady with your champagne,” the governor said.
Clint saw Carla approaching them with two glasses.
“Hello, Carla,” the governor said.
“Governor,” she said. “How nice to see you.” She handed Clint a glass. “Governor?” she asked, holding the other drink out.
“No, no,” the man said, “I hate champagne. You drink that one, my dear, and take Clint around to meet some of the people.”
“Yes, sir, I will.”
“Clint, we’ll talk again.”
“Thank you, sir.”
They shook hands and the man strolled away.
“Are you happy?” Carla asked Clint.
“About what?”
“You know what,” she said. “You disappeared with that…woman.”
“Our hostess?” Clint asked. “She wanted to talk with me about my campaign.”
“Oh, please,” she said. “You expect me to believe you were talking?”
“We even talked about you.”
“What?”
“She said you were a lovely girl.”
Carla glared at him and said, “She did not.”
“She did.”
“I wonder what her tone of voice was when she said it,” she said. “And I wonder what you two were doing at the time.”
“Discussing my campaign.”
“Fine,” Carla said, “have it your way.”
“She’s determined to help me get elected,” Clint said. “Oh, by the way, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing as well.”
“Don’t you worry about me,” she said. “I’ll do my job.”
“Fine,” Clint said. “Then let’s start now. Suppose you take me around and introduce me.”
He held his arm out for her to take. Reluctantly she did.
“And try to look happy doing it,” he said.
TWENTY-ONE
Clint spent the rest of the evening making small talk with potential contributors to his campaign. By the end of the
TWENTY
“Governor?” Gryder said.
The governor turned, drink in hand, and looked at Gryder, then at Clint.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said to the other three men. “Time for me to meet the guest of honor.”
The three men, no doubt local dignitaries, waited to see if they would be introduced as well. When it was plain that this was not to be the case, they moved away.
“Governor,” Will Gryder said, “this is Clint Adams.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Adams,” the man said, extending his hand.
Clint shook hands with the politician and said, “I’m told I have you to thank for this.”
“This party?” the governor said. “That’s all Laura Linquist.”
“I mean the campaign,” Clint said, playing along with the official story. “It was your idea that I run.”
“And a brilliant idea, I think,” the governor said.
“Well,” Clint said, “I guess that’s something we’re going to find out.”
The governor looked at Gryder.
“Will, why don’t you give me some time with Clint?” he said.
“That’s fine, Governor,” Gryder said. “I have to talk to Laura anyway.”
“And have somebody bring Clint a drink, won’t you?”
“Sure.”
“Champagne,” the governor said.
“I’ll have Carla bring it over.”
“Fine, fine,” the governor said. “Lovely girl.”
Gryder nodded and walked away.
“Clint,” the governor said, “can I call you that?”
“Of course, sir.”
“I think running you for Congress here in Texas is going to be one of the best ideas I ever had. I think you’re going to prove me right.”
“I hope so, Governor.”
“Look at all these people,” he said, taking in the room with a wave of his hand. “They’re all trying to look at you without really looking. They’re all looking at your gun. They’ve never seen a politician who wears a gun.”
“I doubt they’ll let me wear it in Washington, D.C., if I get there.”
“Well, that’s okay,” the governor said. “By then you’ll already be in office and it won’t matter.”
“I hope you’re right,” Clint said, even though he would have hated to be elected. In fact, he hated this party, and his boots were killing his feet.
“Ah, here comes the lovely lady with your champagne,” the governor said.
Clint saw Carla approaching them with two glasses.
“Hello, Carla,” the governor said.
“Governor,” she said. “How nice to see you.” She handed Clint a glass. “Governor?” she asked, holding the other drink out.
“No, no,” the man said, “I hate champagne. You drink that one, my dear, and take Clint around to meet some of the people.”
“Yes, sir, I will.”
“Clint, we’ll talk again.”
“Thank you, sir.”
They shook hands and the man strolled away.
“Are you happy?” Carla asked Clint.
“About what?”
“You know what,” she said. “You disappeared with that…woman.”
“Our hostess?” Clint asked. “She wanted to talk with me about my campaign.”
“Oh, please,” she said. “You expect me to believe you were talking?”
“We even talked about you.”
“What?”
“She said you were a lovely girl.”
Carla glared at him and said, “She did not.”
“She did.”
“I wonder what her tone of voice was when she said it,” she said. “And I wonder what you two were doing at the time.”
“Discussing my campaign.”
“Fine,” Carla said, “have it your way.”
“She’s determined to help me get elected,” Clint said. “Oh, by the way, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing as well.”
“Don’t you worry about me,” she said. “I’ll do my job.”
“Fine,” Clint said. “Then let’s start now. Suppose you take me around and introduce me.”
He held his arm out for her to take. Reluctantly she did.
“And try to look happy doing it,” he said.
TWENTY-ONE
Clint spent the rest of the evening making small talk with potential contributors to his campaign. By the end of the
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