This Gun for Hire by Jo Goodman Read Free Book Online

attention. “I believe Mrs. Fry wanted you to take me away,” he said. “I admit I am still in the dark about that. I followed Miss Nash, er,
Calico
, to her room after she took Whitfield upstairs.”
    “You know him?” asked Joe. “His reputation?”
    “No. Never heard of him.”
    “But you were concerned?”
    Quill nodded, pleased that he was understood at last. “Exactly.”
    Joe cocked an eyebrow at Calico. “I guess he really didn’t know who you were.”
    “Exactly,” she said, echoing Quill. “He was interfering. That’s why Mrs. Fry went to get you. When he followed me upstairs and carried on outside my room, I can assure you
that
is
when the menfolk scattered. They did not want to be seen in the house if Whit got out.”
    “Understandable.” He looked down at Whit. “He has been known to rampage. Kind of sorry looking now, what with Chick pinning him down like an unnatural lover.” Joe knuckled his chin, thoughtful as he regarded Quill. “Good intentions don’t precisely excuse your interference, although they do explain it. Maybe if Mrs. Fry had reached me before we arrived at this juncture, I might have been moved to take you in for a spell, just to keep the peace with her, you understand. I believe I mentioned she’s a harridan.”
    Quill was sympathetic. “You did.”
    Joe’s chest swelled as he filled his lungs with a deep breath. He released it slowly, heavily, as if it had weight and consequence. “Well, we are at this juncture, and I am inclined to let your interference pass. That all right with you, Calico?”
    “It will have to be. You are the sheriff.”
    “So you do remember. I am never sure.” He pointed to Chick. “What did you do to him?”
    “Beat him about the head with my peashooter.”
    Joe laughed. “Well, he’s twitching now. Quill, how about you pull him off Whit? Did I see a rope on the floor somewhere?”
    “It’s over here,” said Quill. “Enough length to bind them both, separately or together.”
    “Oh, together. Yes, I like that. I surely do.”
    *   *   *
    It took some prodding to bring them around, but eventually Nick Whitfield and Chick Tatters were on their feet, and after a humiliating shuffle down the main street of Falls Hollow, they were untethered so they could stumble into their individual cells.
    Quill accepted a whiskey from the sheriff when it was offered. He was concerned that Joe Pepper’s mood was too self-congratulatory, but when the man raised his glass and spoke, what he said was, “To Calico Nash. She does not disappoint.” Quill tapped his glass to Joe’s and they both drank.
    “Another?” asked Joe.
    Quill shook his head. “I’ve had enough.”
    “You staying in town tonight? It’s getting late for you to be moving on.”
    “I hadn’t planned on it, but now . . .” He nudged his hat back with a fingertip and regarded Joe thoughtfully. “Recommendation?”
    “Hartford House. Nothing fancy, but the rooms are clean and they serve good food if you’re inclined to eat breakfast there.”
    “All right.”
    Joe gave him directions. “You are leaving in the morning, right?”
    “That is my intention.”
    “Yes, well, we’ve seen where intentions get you. Passing through, remember?” He leaned back in his chair and absently rubbed his knee. “What made you stop here in the first place?”
    “I wanted a drink.”
    “That’s what Sweeney’s saloon is for.”
    “And the company of women.”
    “Ah, yes. The company of women. I reckon you did not expect to find the likes of Calico Nash.”
    “You reckon right.” Quill folded his arms and stretched his legs. His dusty leather boots disappeared under the sheriff’s desk. “How well do you know her?”
    “About as well as anyone can, I suspect. We go back a ways. She was ten years old when I made her acquaintance. Funny little thing she was, all eyes and hair, hangin’ on her pa’s every word. I met her because of him. Bagger Nash and I served in the war