business."
He loped his horse out of the basin without waiting for a reply, and Jones pulle d in alongside him. Jones looked back over his shoulder. "You should be careful," h e said. "That was Lute Robeck back there. He's a mighty dangerous man. You see th e way he emptied that six-gun?"
"He didn't empty it," Talon said. "He had one shot left."
The desert lay empty and still under the hot morning sun. Heat waves shimmered ove r the red-brown, sunbaked rocks of the distant mountains, but there was no other movemen t until a lone dust devil danced out of the greasewood clumps and gained size in th e flatland, then died away to nothing.
In the back room of the stage station at Ironwood, Dan Burnett lay on his back wit h a broken hip and three broken ribs. It was close and hot in the small bedroom an d he gasped painfully with every breath.
Kate Breslin, in the big main room of the station, wen t to the door for the fiftieth time and stared up the narrow, empty road that wen t down the flat and curved out of sight around the hill. The road was empty ... i n all that hot, vast, and brassy silence, nothing moved.
Kate Breslin was twice a widow, once by stampede and once by the gun, but at forty-fiv e she was all Western, with no idea of ever going elsewhere. She had rolled into Ironwoo d on the stage bound for Carson and they had found Dan Burnett dragging himself towar d the station door with a broken hip ... he had been kicked by a mule and was in ba d shape.
Immediately, she volunteered to remain until a relief man could come and somebod y to care for Dan. On impulse, Ruth Starkey had stayed with her. Now, as Ruth coul d plainly see, Kate was worried, and she was worried about something other than th e injured man in the back bedroom.
"Can you handle a gun?" Kate asked suddenly.
"I've shot a rifle, if that's what you mean."
"You may need to. . . ." Kate Breslin looked at her quickly. "You know what he tol d me? There's seventy thousand dollars in gold on that westbound stage ... sevent y thousand."
"Does anybody know?"
"You darned tootin', somebody knows. Trouble is, they don't know who. Feller worke d for the mining company, he suddenly took off, didn't even pick up his wages ... h e lit right out of town. They thought about holding the gold, then decided they woul d be safer to ship it. That's why Dan is so worried."
"But don't they know about Dan?"
"West they do, but that gold's shipped from east of here . . . and back there they'l l think Dan is on his toes. This is one place nobody will expect trouble."
Ruth was standing in the door. "Kate," she said, "tw o men are coming up the road ... from the east."
Kate Breslin joined her in the door. Two men riding toward them, both on fine, bloode d horses, definitely not the sort of horses ridden by cowhands. One man was short an d thickset, the other was a tall man.
"Be careful what you say," Kate said. "You just be careful."
When they rode up it was the tall man who spoke. "Ma'am, we've heard they serve d the best food along the line at Ironwood, and we're hungry. Could you manage to serv e a meal for two?"
"I reckon," Kate said. "Get down and come in."
When they had stabled their horses, the two men came in and the fat one walked t o the bar. "I'd like a whiskey," he said, "I surely would."
"Pour one for him, Ruth." Kate was already rattling dishes in the kitchen. "I'l l feed these men so they can get on their way. I expect they're in a hurry to get t o Carson."
Talon glanced at her and then at Ruth, momentarily puzzled by the presence of th e women. His eyes strayed toward the closed door of the bedroom, but what it was o r who was there, Talon had no idea. He sensed that for some reason his presence wa s not wanted, and he wondered why this was so. He was a sensitive man, aware of change s in the atmosphere, and he was aware of a subtle coldness now.
He had not expected to find women here, and the younger one, the one called Ruth , was extremely pretty...