Town of Two Women (9781101612125) by J.r. Roberts Read Free Book Online Page B

not down, so he did not see Clint Adams approach the building.
    *   *   *
    Angela Locksley got dressed in her riding clothes—trousers, a cotton shirt, boots, and a flat-brimmed hat. None of it was expensive; it was all designed for riding or, in other words, for getting dirty. She hated the idea, but it had to be done. There was a man she knew she could send after Clint Adams, but she was going to have to go out and find him herself.

SEVENTEEN
    Clint spent about an hour at the bar in the Dry Wash Saloon, sipping beer and listening to the conversations around him. It took a while, but somebody finally came in and started talking about Mary Connelly.
    â€œDidja hear who brought her back into town?”
    â€œNaw, who was it?”
    â€œClint Adams.”
    â€œThe Gunsmith?”
    â€œYeah, him.”
    â€œJesus,” somebody said from across the room, “what’s Locksley gonna do now?”
    â€œYa mean what’s his wife gonna do?”
    Before long the conversation was taking place in the entire saloon from across the room. He wasn’t learning anything he didn’t know, except for the fact that no one in the room wanted to do anything more than talk about it.
    And then there was the bartender. He just stood behind the bar and listened. He didn’t take part in the conversation at all. Clint found this odd, since most bartenders had opinions.
    Little by little the men talking about Mary Connelly drifted out of the saloon, until the conversation broke down into separate conversations again.
    Clint said to the bartender, “No opinion?”
    â€œOn what?”
    â€œWhatever they were talking about?” Clint said. “Mary Connelly.”
    â€œOh, that,” the man said. “You’d have more opinion about that than I would.”
    â€œOh? Why’s that?”
    The bartender, a big man in his fifties who had obviously been around, asked instead, “Would you like another beer, Mr. Adams?”
    Clint smiled and said, “Sure, one more.”
    The barman brought it over and said, “On the house.”
    â€œThanks.” Clint sipped it. “So you knew me when I came in?”
    â€œI saw you in Yellowstone once.”
    â€œThat must have been a long time ago.”
    â€œOh, yeah,” the man said. “My first job as a bartender.”
    â€œAnd yet you recognized me.”
    â€œAs soon as you walked in,” the man said. “Also, I ain’t seen any other strangers in town.”
    â€œWhat’s your name?”
    â€œMax.”
    â€œThanks, Max, for not saying anything.”
    â€œWell, you weren’t sayin’ anything,” the bartender said. “You was just listening. I figured to let ya.”
    Clint nodded.
    â€œYou find out anything?” Max asked.
    â€œOnly that everybody has an opinion, but nobody wants to do anything.”
    â€œPeople around here don’t do anything unless they’re told to.”
    â€œBy Locksley?”
    â€œYup.”
    â€œSo when they put that poor girl on a horse and rode her out of town . . .”
    â€œThey did it because they was told to. And it was Locksley, with a few other men, who actually put her on the horse.”
    â€œAh,” Clint said, “there’s something I’d like to know.”
    â€œWho were the other men?”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œWell, the sheriff,” Max said, “and . . .” Max frowned.
    â€œNone of the men who were in here?”
    â€œNo,” Max said. “Jeez, I can’t remember who it was.”
    â€œCan’t?” Clint asked. “Or don’t want to?”
    â€œNo,” Max said, “I’m tellin’ you the truth. It really didn’t matter who they were, they was just doing what they were told. So I really can’t see their faces in my head. Locksley, the sheriff, and some other hands.”
    Clint realized what he was saying