Cotton's Devil (9781101618523) Read Online Free PDF

employed by Havens, but he’d not noticed any particular alliance with McCann. Had there been a conscious effort to keep it secret? Was it a coincidence or was it planned all along? And how long
had
they known each other? He had no intention of leaving Silver City with questions hanging over his head. He tied the mare to the railing and went inside, ducking under the Butterfield Stage Line sign that had begun to droop on one side from a broken chain.
    A short, balding man stood up from behind a counter at his arrival.
    â€œGood day to you, sir. Where is it you’re lookin’ to travel to? The next stage will be arrivin’ in three hours from Las Cruces.”
    â€œI’d like a couple of answers, rather than needin’ a ticket. When was the last stage out? And where was it headed?”
    The man thumbed down the last page in his ledger and, looking over half-frame glasses, said, “Well, sir, the last one left here at six o’clock this morning, going to Albuquerque by way of Apache Springs. Two paid passengers, a man and a woman.”
    â€œCan you remember what the man looked like?”
    â€œBusinessman, as I recall. Short, rumpled suit, carryin’ a wooden case of some sort. Had brass hinges like a gun case.”
    â€œAnd the woman?”
    â€œHard to forget her. Right smart-lookin’ lady. Dark hair and a smile that could, er–”
    â€œI got the picture. Only the two of them, you say?”
    â€œThat’s all. Only sold two tickets.”
    â€œThanks,” Cotton said over his shoulder as he rejoined his horse.
    He was several hours late for any chance of catching up to the coach, and it made little sense to try, especially during the heat of the day such as it was. Best he casually head on back to Apache Springs. Maybe the coach got there and had a layover.
Reckon I’ll just have to wait to find out if the mysterious dark-haired woman is anyone other than Delilah Jones, but I’d stake my reputation it’s her.
    He had a wry smile on his lips as he rode out of town.
    The road out of Silver City was an easy ride, at least until he reached the foothills several miles north. A slight breeze kept the day’s heat down to a bearable temperature, and clouds had begun to move in, heralding the possibility of a few drops of rain, but well before it reached the ground the dryness of the desert usually sucked up any moisture that didn’t come in the form of a thunderstorm. This day was no different. Cotton felt not a drop of anything other than perhaps some slight perspiration on his forehead.
    He reached down and pulled one of his canteens from around the saddle horn, unscrewed the cap, and sipped some of the warm water. Unlikely as it was, Cotton didn’t feel alone. All around him were the calls of birds and the howls of coyotes. A family of Gambel’s quail sauntered in front of him, then, taking notice of him just for a moment, hurried on their way into the brush on the other side. A grunt from a javelina, or peccary as they were sometimes known,emanated from off to his right, although he never caught sight of it. He did catch a brief glimpse of a couple of mule deer making their way up a rocky slope in the distance.
    With nothing of particular importance to concentrate on, the sudden mental image of Emily popping into his head almost startled him. He’d been away only a short while, not long enough to start missing her any more than he normally did. But somehow he was surprised by his vision of her, almost as if she were in trouble. It was a very strange feeling. He tried to shake it off as nothing. But he couldn’t. A tinge of fear came over him and he urged the mare to increase her pace.
    She’s all right; I know she is. Although, I do have a powerful feeling
someone
is in serious trouble. And it feels like it’s not far off. He gave his horse a knee to her sides to add a little incentive to pick up the pace even