The Cowpuncher by Bradford Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

short, decisive nose whose end exploded into a bright red bulb. The mouth was long and wide, and was shaped for loud and raucous laughter.
    For a small man, his voice was deep and resonant. His talk seemed to rumble up out of his belly rather than from his vocal chords.
    “I didn’t see you,” Sue repeated, stupidly. She was a head taller than her father and looked down upon him with a curiously disturbed glance.
    He looked at her shrewdly for a moment and cocked his head on a side. “Yuh ain’t been seein’ anythin’ lately,” he said good-naturedly. Then his tone grew more earnest. “What’s troublin’ yuh, lass? Yuh ain’t been yourself for a couple weeks now—ever since the boys come back from K.C. What’s eatin’ yuh?”
    “Nothing,” she replied quickly. Almost too quickly. “I’m restless, I guess.”
    “Yeah,” said Old Man Doyle, eyeing her steadily. Her gaze dropped under his. “I reckon I ain’t much of a ma to yuh, Sue. Been a mite easier if she’d of been here for yuh to talk to. Ma’s are a sight better’n easier to talk to than pa’s, I reckon.”
    Sue’s white teeth showed in a smile. Impulsively she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. For a moment they grinned at each other self-consciously.
    “You’ve been both to me, Dad,” she said. Then her tone deepened as her eye fell on a big bluehorse, cropping grass in the courtyard. “Do you think anything’s happened to Huck?”
    Doyle’s eye followed her gaze. She was staring at Huck Brannon’s Smoke. His brow corrugated in a wrinkle, then smoothed out. When he spoke, his tone was casual, hearty and innocent.
    “To Huck Brannon?” he cried. “Nothin’ could happen to that young hellion.”
    “Then why hasn’t he come back? Why didn’t he return with the rest of the boys?”
    “Why, they told yuh, Sue,” replied her father, his eyes peering keenly at her from beneath his battered hat. “He had a coupla drinks too many an’ jest forgot to get up the next mornin’; an’ the boys said he was plumb busted. I reckon he kinda got stranded in K.C.”
    “But why didn’t he wire for money to come back?”
    “I figger he wouldn’t want to do that, daughter. You know Huck.”
    “Then where is he now?”
    “I cal’late he’s hoofin’ it back, Sue—that is—if he aims to come back atall.”
    The blood ebbed slowly from the girl’s face. Her eyes widened to deep, amber pools. “What do you mean, Dad?”
    “I mean, mebbe he’s left the Bar X for good. He always said he’d wander on, some fine day.”
    For a moment the only sound in the afternoon was the far-off tinkle of a horse’s bell. “Yes, I know,” Sue said. “Only—no, it just isn’t possible!”
    “How do yuh know, daughter,”
    “I do know it,” she replied quickly. She couldn’t tell her father about kissing Huck. Not when it might look as if Huck was staying away because of it. She pointed to Smoke instead.
    “Huck’s horse is here. He’d never leave his horse. Besides, his clothes are here too—and his guns.”
    “Is that all?” he asked.
    “Yes,” she replied hesitantly.
    “Wal, I reckon a hombre can get other clothes an’ buy another hoss.”
    “No, no,” she insisted. “Huck wouldn’t go away without—I’m sure something must have happened to him! I’m sure of it! We’d have heard something by now.”
    Doyle surveyed his daughter, from the tips of her small booted feet to the crest of her thick, wavy black hair. She colored under his penetrating gaze, but her eyes held firm.
    “Wal,” he drawled, “ ‘pears to me that yuh been mighty concerned over that cowboy since he ain’tcome back.” He hesitated a moment, then, “Don’t tell me yuh’ve gone soft on Huck, Sue?”
    It was a question that demanded an answer. For a moment, her glance held steady, then it faltered. “I don’t know, Dad. I honestly don’t know.” She looked up into his face again. “I guess I sort of got used to riding with him and