Message on the Wind by J. R. Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

talk.”
    â€œTalk?”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œCoffee?”
    â€œRight again.”
    â€œI don’t want no coffee.”
    â€œWell, you’re gonna have some,” Bennett said, standing up. “Just don’t move till I get back.”
    Callum squinted at his friend again, and then as Bennett walked over to the bar to get some coffee, he shouted, “And get me another bottle, too.”

SIXTEEN
    After half a dozen cups of coffee, Mike Callum put his hands out in front of his face and said, “Enough! Enough! I’m drowning in coffee.”
    â€œYou ain’t never drowned in whiskey, Mike, so I doubt yer gonna drown in coffee,” Teddy Bennett said, but he put the pot down without pouring yet another cup.
    â€œOoh,” Callum said, holding his head, “now I got a headache I ain’t even enjoyed gettin’.”
    â€œNever mind your headache,” Bennett said. “You’ll forget about it when I tell ya what I got ta tell ya.”
    â€œAnd what is that?” Callum asked. “What’s so all-fired important that you had to interrupt a perfectly good drunk?”
    â€œClint Adams?”
    Callum released his head and looked across the table at Bennett.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œClint Adams?” Bennett said. “The Gunsmith?”
    â€œWhat about him?”
    â€œHe’s here.”
    Callum looked around.
    â€œI mean here in town,” Bennett said, “not here in this saloon.”
    â€œWhat’s he doin’ in town?” Callum asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Bennett said. “He stopped by to see the sheriff, and the senior deputy ran us off before we could hear what he wanted.”
    â€œWhat’d the sheriff say?”
    â€œHe ain’t around,” Bennett said. “Him and another deputy took off after them bank robbers.”
    â€œAny idea how long he’s stayin’?” Callum asked.
    â€œI tol’ ya,” Bennett said, “I didn’t hear nothin’ that he had to say.”
    â€œWell, I ain’t in any shape to face him tonight, or in the mornin’,” Callum said. He reached across and grabbed Bennett’s sleeve. “Find out what’s goin’ on for me, Teddy. How long he’s stayin’ in town, what he wants. As much as you kin get, hear?”
    â€œI hear ya, Mike,” Bennett said, “but when I leave here, don’t go divin’ back inta the bottle.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” Callum said. “I only drink when I got no reason not to—and you just give me a reason.”
    Â 
    After Deputy Bennett left, Callum went to the bar and got himself a cold beer. For a man who drank as heavily as he did, beer was hardly drinking.
    He took the beer back to his table and nursed it while thinking over what Bennett had told him.
    Whatever reason Clint Adams was in Yuma, this was Mike Callum’s chance to finally prove himself, finally get himself a reputation and change his life. All he had to do was be fast enough.
    He looked down at his hands, which, at that moment, were trembling. He grabbed the beer and drank down half of it, then set the mug down and looked at his hands again. Better, but not perfect.
    Suddenly, he became aware of the sour smell of his own sweat; he touched his face and felt the stubble there. He had to go to bed. In the morning he’d have a good breakfast, then a bath and a shave, then maybe a little hair of the dog just to settle his nerves a bit.
    After that he’d find out from Bennett why Clint Adams was in town, and how long he was intending to stay. It would be better for Callum if he had a few days to work with, but if all he had was tomorrow, he’d have to make the best of it.
    But first he’d finish his beer. After all, he’d paid for it.
    Â 
    Later that night Clint Adams entered his hotel room, looking forward to a good night’s sleep. He’d had a few beers in the Wagon