match, dropped it on the porch, and ground it under the toe of his boot.
“Nice evening,” The Kid said.
“It’ll be cold by morning,” Fairmont replied. He blew a little cloud of smoke in the air.
“More than likely,” The Kid agreed.
“You didn’t get that reply to your telegram.”
“Not yet. It could still come in. I told the clerk at the Western Union office I’d be at the hotel after this, so the boy should still be able to find me.”
“I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what business this is about.”
The Kid glanced over at his host. “Sorry, Marshal. No offense, but I’d rather keep that to myself.”
Fairmont took the pipe out of his mouth. “A man who wears a badge likes to know what’s going on in his town,” he said. “And a gunfighter’s business usually means trouble.”
“I never said I was a gunfighter,” The Kid pointed out.
“You didn’t have to. I’ll ask you flat out, Browning, and since you sat at my table and broke bread with me, I expect a straight answer. Did you come to Las Vegas to kill a man?”
The Kid took a deep breath. “Absolutely not, Marshal. I don’t want any trouble at all.”
Fairmont looked steadily at him for a moment. The light on the porch was dim, but it was enough for The Kid to know the lawman was studying him and weighing his answer.
Finally, Fairmont nodded. “That’s good to know, anyway. Especially since . . . well, the girl’s taken quite a shine to you and all.”
Suddenly, The Kid realized he might have been misreading the situation all along. Fairmont’s suspicions might not come from the fact that he was a lawman as much as they did from him being the father of an attractive young woman.
“I can set your mind to rest about that, Marshal,” The Kid said. “The only intention I have toward your daughter is an honorable one, and that’s to thank her for a fine meal and some very pleasant company. If you’d like, you can convey those thanks for me, and I’ll just get my hat and head on down to the hotel.”
Fairmont shook his head. “No, no, she’d never forgive either of us if you did that. Wait a spell. You can say your good nights.”
“Thanks,” The Kid said, smiling. “I’d like that.”
Carly joined them on the porch a few minutes later. “It’s a beautiful evening,” she said, expressing the same sentiment The Kid had earlier.
“Yes, it is,” The Kid agreed, “and that was a fine meal you prepared, miss.”
“Carly,” she insisted.
“We’ll compromise,” The Kid said with a smile. “Miss Carly.”
“I suppose that’ll do. What are your plans now, Mr. Browning?”
“Well, that depends on the answer I get to a telegram I sent earlier. I’ll be staying in Las Vegas tonight, but I expect I’ll be moving along in the morning.”
“So soon?” she asked.
The sound of disappointment in her voice told The Kid that maybe Marshal Fairmont was right to be worried. Carly had taken a shine to him.
But nothing could ever come of that, and it was better that she be aware of it. “I’m afraid so,” he said.
“Well, I’m glad we were able to keep you here for a little while, anyway.” She sounded disappointed but accepted his decision.
Fairmont spoke up, saying, “Browning, I’m about to make my evening rounds. How about coming along with me?”
The suggestion surprised The Kid a little. Maybe the marshal was more willing to be friendly now that he knew The Kid didn’t have any designs on his daughter.
“I suppose I can do that. I need to find a livery stable for my horse before I check into the hotel.”
“I can take you right to the best stable in town,” Fairmont said. “Just let me get my hat.”
He went back inside the house and closed the door. Carly was standing at the edge of the porch, her hands on the railing that ran around it, but she turned quickly and stepped toward The Kid.
Before he could stop her, she put her arms around his neck, came up on her toes, and
“Nice evening,” The Kid said.
“It’ll be cold by morning,” Fairmont replied. He blew a little cloud of smoke in the air.
“More than likely,” The Kid agreed.
“You didn’t get that reply to your telegram.”
“Not yet. It could still come in. I told the clerk at the Western Union office I’d be at the hotel after this, so the boy should still be able to find me.”
“I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what business this is about.”
The Kid glanced over at his host. “Sorry, Marshal. No offense, but I’d rather keep that to myself.”
Fairmont took the pipe out of his mouth. “A man who wears a badge likes to know what’s going on in his town,” he said. “And a gunfighter’s business usually means trouble.”
“I never said I was a gunfighter,” The Kid pointed out.
“You didn’t have to. I’ll ask you flat out, Browning, and since you sat at my table and broke bread with me, I expect a straight answer. Did you come to Las Vegas to kill a man?”
The Kid took a deep breath. “Absolutely not, Marshal. I don’t want any trouble at all.”
Fairmont looked steadily at him for a moment. The light on the porch was dim, but it was enough for The Kid to know the lawman was studying him and weighing his answer.
Finally, Fairmont nodded. “That’s good to know, anyway. Especially since . . . well, the girl’s taken quite a shine to you and all.”
Suddenly, The Kid realized he might have been misreading the situation all along. Fairmont’s suspicions might not come from the fact that he was a lawman as much as they did from him being the father of an attractive young woman.
“I can set your mind to rest about that, Marshal,” The Kid said. “The only intention I have toward your daughter is an honorable one, and that’s to thank her for a fine meal and some very pleasant company. If you’d like, you can convey those thanks for me, and I’ll just get my hat and head on down to the hotel.”
Fairmont shook his head. “No, no, she’d never forgive either of us if you did that. Wait a spell. You can say your good nights.”
“Thanks,” The Kid said, smiling. “I’d like that.”
Carly joined them on the porch a few minutes later. “It’s a beautiful evening,” she said, expressing the same sentiment The Kid had earlier.
“Yes, it is,” The Kid agreed, “and that was a fine meal you prepared, miss.”
“Carly,” she insisted.
“We’ll compromise,” The Kid said with a smile. “Miss Carly.”
“I suppose that’ll do. What are your plans now, Mr. Browning?”
“Well, that depends on the answer I get to a telegram I sent earlier. I’ll be staying in Las Vegas tonight, but I expect I’ll be moving along in the morning.”
“So soon?” she asked.
The sound of disappointment in her voice told The Kid that maybe Marshal Fairmont was right to be worried. Carly had taken a shine to him.
But nothing could ever come of that, and it was better that she be aware of it. “I’m afraid so,” he said.
“Well, I’m glad we were able to keep you here for a little while, anyway.” She sounded disappointed but accepted his decision.
Fairmont spoke up, saying, “Browning, I’m about to make my evening rounds. How about coming along with me?”
The suggestion surprised The Kid a little. Maybe the marshal was more willing to be friendly now that he knew The Kid didn’t have any designs on his daughter.
“I suppose I can do that. I need to find a livery stable for my horse before I check into the hotel.”
“I can take you right to the best stable in town,” Fairmont said. “Just let me get my hat.”
He went back inside the house and closed the door. Carly was standing at the edge of the porch, her hands on the railing that ran around it, but she turned quickly and stepped toward The Kid.
Before he could stop her, she put her arms around his neck, came up on her toes, and
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