Longarm and the Wyoming Woman by Tabor Evans Page A

enough,” the store owner said. “And how about a little whiskey for the cold nights on the trail? You could get snowed on at this time of the year.”
    â€œWhiskey and a dozen cigars would be good,” Longarm said. “And we’ll want a couple of good-sized canteens and rain slickers to fit.”
    â€œDone!”
    Longarm started to leave, but then turned and said, “How much do you reckon this will all cost us?”
    The store owner frowned and toted up the figures in his head. “I’d say about one hundred twenty-five dollars, give or take five dollars.”
    â€œAnd that buys your word that you will keep silent about who I am and why I’m riding with this lady up to Buffalo Falls?” Longarm asked, his eyes piercing.
    â€œMister, you have my word on it! I’d keep my silence even if you didn’t buy a dime’s worth of hard rock candy.”
    â€œThat’s what I wanted to hear,” Longarm said. “Where is Galloway’s Stable?”
    The man gave them directions and they went up the street. Addie said, “Do you think that man will keep your secret?”
    â€œAt least until we’re out of Cheyenne,” Longarm replied. “But I saw a ring on his finger, so he’s married. Most likely, he’ll have to tell his wife, and then she’ll tell her friends who will tell their friends. I’d give it a day before the whole town knows my name and why we’ve ridden north.”
    Addie wasn’t so sure that the store owner would break his promise. “You may be wrong and maybe that nice man will never say a word.”
    â€œHope you’re right.” Longarm looked ahead and saw the livery. “You want me to do the pickin’ and dickerin’ for our horses?”
    â€œI’ll pick the horses,” Addie said. “I think I know more about them than you do. After that, you can dicker over the price. If I think you’ve done well, I won’t make a peep. But if I think you’re getting taken, I’ll have to step in and do the horse trading.”
    â€œSounds like a plan,” Longarm told her.
    Â 
They bought the best two horses in Galloway’s Stable. A red roan mare with a flaxen mane and tail for Addie, and a tall buckskin gelding for Longarm. They also bought saddles, bridles, halters, and blankets in addition to a couple of saddlebags.
    â€œWhere you headed?” Mike Galloway asked when the money changed hands.
    â€œMaybe up into the Laramie Mountains,” Longarm said.
    â€œAre you serious?” Not waiting for or expecting an answer, Mike shook his head. “Man, those mountains will already be covered with snow. You go up there and you might get buried in the stuff. We get blizzards this time of year here in Wyoming.”
    â€œThen maybe we’ll ride south to Old Mexico,” Longarm told the liveryman because he didn’t appreciate being lectured. “No blizzards any time of the year in Mexico.”
    Mike Galloway was a pugnacious-looking Irishman. He was a good and honest man, but he tended to be too free giving advice, and seemed a little on the self-important side for Longarm’s liking.
    â€œMexico? Mister, are you serious?”
    â€œWhy not?” Longarm asked while Addie rolled her eyes.
    â€œWhy that’s a long, long way!” the Irishman exclaimed. “You couldn’t get to Mexico in a month! Maybe three months. Why, you’d have to ride through Colorado, Oklahoma, maybe half of Nevada, and the corner of California. Hell, you’d have to ride all over the place to get there.”
    Longarm had to struggle to keep from chuckling. “You’re right,” he agreed with a feigned tone of fatalism. “I guess we’ll just go down to Santa Fe, New Mexico, for the winter.”
    Galloway nodded. “That sounds a whole lot more sensible, mister. Old Santa Fe is a real nice town to winter up in. Real