the Man from the Broken Hills (1975) by Louis - Talon-Chantry L'amour Page B
Book: the Man from the Broken Hills (1975) by Louis - Talon-Chantry L'amour
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Authors: Louis - Talon-Chantry L'amour
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tired-looking woman whom I discovered was his wife. Also beside him, a lean but heavy-shouldered man was dismounting. "Klaus," Fuentes whispered. "He gets forty a month."
When opportunity offered, I glanced at him. He was no one I knew, but he was wearing a gun and, unless I was mistaken, had another under his coat but tucked behind his belt.
Somebody was tuning up a fiddle, and there was a smell of coffee on the air. Suddenly, somebody said, "Here comes the major!"
He came in a surrey, spanking new, polished and elegant, surrounded by six riders. In the surrey itself were Ann, beautifully but modestly gowned, and the man who had to be the major ... tall, square-shouldered, immaculate in every sense.
He stepped down, then helped his daughter to the ground. With them was another couple, equally well-dressed, but whose faces I could not see in the dim light. I knew none of the riders with them, but they were well set-up, square-shouldered men with the look of the cavalry about them.
Standing back in the shadows as I was, Arm Timberly could not see me as she went in, and I was just as pleased. I'd dug out an expensively tailored black broadcloth suit I had, and was wearing my Sunday-go-to-meetin' boots, polished and fine. I also wore a white shirt and a black string tie.
Ann was beautiful. No getting around it, she was beautiful and composed, and as she swept into the schoolhouse you had no doubt that Somebody had arrived. Her manner, I decided, would have been neither more nor less had she been entering the finest home in Charleston, Richmond or Philadelphia.
Yet she was only in the door when somebody let out a whoop in the near distance and there was a rush of hoofs. A buckboard wheeled up, coming in at a dead run and skidding to a halt with horses rearing. And as the buckboard halted, a man leaped from a horse and caught the driver as she dropped from her seat.
The man caught her and swung her around before putting her down, but immediately, and without looking back at either man or rig, she strode for the door.
I caught a glimpse of dark auburn hair, of green, somewhat slanted eyes, a few freckles over a lovely nose, and I heard somebody inside say, "Here's China!"
She swept into the schoolhouse, only a step behind Ann Timberly, and I followed, pushing among the crowd, taking my time. Somebody, I noticed, was caring for her team, but the big man who had lifted her from the buckboard was right behind me.
As he started to push me aside, I said over my shoulder, "Take it easy. She'll still be there when you get there."
He looked down at me. Now I am two inches over six feet and weigh usually about an even one-ninety, although my weight is often judged to be less, but beside this man I was a shadow. He was at least four or five inches taller, and he weighed a good fifty pounds more. And he was not used to anybody standing in his way.
He looked again, and started to push me aside. I was half-facing him now and as he stepped quickly forward, my instep lifted under his moving ankle and lifted the leg high. Off-balance, he tottered and started to fall. It needed only a slight move toward him to keep him off-balance. He fell with a thud, and instantly I bent over him. "Sorry. Can I help you?"
He stared up at me, uncertain as to just what had happened, but I was looking very serious and apologetic, so he accepted my hand and I helped him up. "Slipped," he muttered. "I must've slipped."
"We all do that occasionally," I said, "if we've had one too many."
"Now, see here!" he broke in. "I haven't been--"
But I slipped away into the crowd and walked down the length of the room. As I reached the end I turned and found myself looking into the eyes of China Benn. She was across the room but she was looking at me, suddenly, seriously, as if wondering what manner of man I was.
Fuentes moved over beside me. "What happened, amigo?"
"He was shoving too hard," I said, "and I guess he slipped."
Fuentes took out a cigar. His eyes
When opportunity offered, I glanced at him. He was no one I knew, but he was wearing a gun and, unless I was mistaken, had another under his coat but tucked behind his belt.
Somebody was tuning up a fiddle, and there was a smell of coffee on the air. Suddenly, somebody said, "Here comes the major!"
He came in a surrey, spanking new, polished and elegant, surrounded by six riders. In the surrey itself were Ann, beautifully but modestly gowned, and the man who had to be the major ... tall, square-shouldered, immaculate in every sense.
He stepped down, then helped his daughter to the ground. With them was another couple, equally well-dressed, but whose faces I could not see in the dim light. I knew none of the riders with them, but they were well set-up, square-shouldered men with the look of the cavalry about them.
Standing back in the shadows as I was, Arm Timberly could not see me as she went in, and I was just as pleased. I'd dug out an expensively tailored black broadcloth suit I had, and was wearing my Sunday-go-to-meetin' boots, polished and fine. I also wore a white shirt and a black string tie.
Ann was beautiful. No getting around it, she was beautiful and composed, and as she swept into the schoolhouse you had no doubt that Somebody had arrived. Her manner, I decided, would have been neither more nor less had she been entering the finest home in Charleston, Richmond or Philadelphia.
Yet she was only in the door when somebody let out a whoop in the near distance and there was a rush of hoofs. A buckboard wheeled up, coming in at a dead run and skidding to a halt with horses rearing. And as the buckboard halted, a man leaped from a horse and caught the driver as she dropped from her seat.
The man caught her and swung her around before putting her down, but immediately, and without looking back at either man or rig, she strode for the door.
I caught a glimpse of dark auburn hair, of green, somewhat slanted eyes, a few freckles over a lovely nose, and I heard somebody inside say, "Here's China!"
She swept into the schoolhouse, only a step behind Ann Timberly, and I followed, pushing among the crowd, taking my time. Somebody, I noticed, was caring for her team, but the big man who had lifted her from the buckboard was right behind me.
As he started to push me aside, I said over my shoulder, "Take it easy. She'll still be there when you get there."
He looked down at me. Now I am two inches over six feet and weigh usually about an even one-ninety, although my weight is often judged to be less, but beside this man I was a shadow. He was at least four or five inches taller, and he weighed a good fifty pounds more. And he was not used to anybody standing in his way.
He looked again, and started to push me aside. I was half-facing him now and as he stepped quickly forward, my instep lifted under his moving ankle and lifted the leg high. Off-balance, he tottered and started to fall. It needed only a slight move toward him to keep him off-balance. He fell with a thud, and instantly I bent over him. "Sorry. Can I help you?"
He stared up at me, uncertain as to just what had happened, but I was looking very serious and apologetic, so he accepted my hand and I helped him up. "Slipped," he muttered. "I must've slipped."
"We all do that occasionally," I said, "if we've had one too many."
"Now, see here!" he broke in. "I haven't been--"
But I slipped away into the crowd and walked down the length of the room. As I reached the end I turned and found myself looking into the eyes of China Benn. She was across the room but she was looking at me, suddenly, seriously, as if wondering what manner of man I was.
Fuentes moved over beside me. "What happened, amigo?"
"He was shoving too hard," I said, "and I guess he slipped."
Fuentes took out a cigar. His eyes
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