Tags:
Historical Romance,
Romantic Comedy,
romantic suspense,
romance adventure,
ROMANCE - - SUSPENSE,
western romance,
cowboy romance,
INSPIRATIONAL ROMANCE,
chaste romance,
wild west romance,
western historical fiction
never bought a
chisel, and you aren’t presenting me with a broken one at the present time, so
why would I think anything of your complaint but that you’re trying to get over
on me?”
Standing in the entrance, Mr. Star’s customer
seemed to be more bull than man. He stood with his shoulders pinched up near
his ears, and his growling was audible from across the store. “Now you listen
here, Star, I said I bought a chisel and it broke. Give me my two damned
dollars! ”
“I will not, Mr. Rawls, and furthermore, I want
you to leave right now before this turns into much more than you mean it to. My
partner will be back momentarily and I’d rather you walk out of here a free man
instead of in shackles.”
The man growled loudly and slammed his meaty fists
on Mr. Star’s countertop so hard the ledger book bounced. “You haven’t heard
the last of me, Star!” He turned and stomped out the door, pushing between father
and me on his way.
“I’m sure I haven’t, no matter how badly I wish
that weren’t true.” He shook his head, and then almost immediately became a
different person. “I’m much happier to see you folks. Just starting out on your
claim? We’ve got a tool package that will take care of you. But first I need to
know a few things so I can figure on what you need, exactly.”
My father hitched his thumb in his vest pocket.
“Of course, ask away!”
“Well, is this a small claim or a large one? Will
you be testing the soil – that is, looking for ore in the ground – or will you
be panning? What sort of gold weight are you expecting and –”
Father put his hands up. “I’m almost ashamed to
admit this, but I haven’t a clue. I know about as much about gold as you do
about the mail system.”
Mr. Star’s eyebrows shot up. “Actually, I’m the
town postmaster.”
“Well in that case, I’ll stop trying to make
analogies for fear of coming up with what I think to be a clever one that
coughs soot in my face. What I mean is I know next to nothing about this
business. I was hoping that I’d be able to hire someone to give me an
introduction. I could make it worth your while if you were free?”
Mr. Star smiled. “Truth be told, after that run-in
with Eustace, I’d be happy to get some air for a time. No charge necessary. Has
your claim been reconnoitered?”
“I don’t even know the meaning of the word. The
man who sold it to me said that it’d be reconnoitered by George Hearst. But I’d
be much obliged if you’d show me. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you?
For your troubles, I mean. I’m afraid you’ll lose business.”
“I insist. If salesmen are to be believed, every claim was reconnoitered by Hearst. Business is slow during the day anyhow.
Everyone with an eye to being useful is already out in the hills. Everyone with
an eye to sloth and vice is presently sleeping off their drink. If you’ll give
me a few moments, I’ll head to the courthouse and find my partner to watch the
–”
A great crash from outside and then a heavy thud
against the walls preceded a man shouting. “Eustace! How many times have I told
you to keep your bullshit complaints about equipment you never bought to
yourself? I don’t care what Sol said to you, you’re lucky it wasn’t me
you tried to warble at! I’d send you straight through the window to say no
instead of weathering your endless abuse!”
“Well,” Mr. Star said, “I suppose I won’t need to
go looking.”
Tall and clad in a black suit with a black hat,
someone who could only have been Seth Bullock strode into the store. “I’m
taking Mr. Rawls to jail, unless for some reason you want him released. I have
a mind to leave him there until he dies, but I think instead I’ll just let him
sleep off the drinking he’s done.”
“Seth,” Mr. Star trailed off. He winked in our
direction. “Customers?”
“Of course. Sir,” he said. “Ma’am. Pleased to meet
you. Sol? You want this wretch in jail or not?”
“I
Learning to Kill: Stories