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strong.”
    â€œThat’s the way coffee’s supposed to be,” he said, sitting with his right arm on the table. He was trying to make it seem natural, but was certain people were staring at him.
    â€œIt’s all right,” she told him.
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œYour arm,” she said. “Nobody notices.”
    â€œWhat are you, a mind reader?”
    â€œWell, a man like you, with your reputation, you’d have to be worried somebody will notice.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Clint said. “I probably should have stayed in the room.”
    â€œNo,” she said. “You have to seem normal, and then nobody will notice anything.”
    During the walk to the café Clint had been thinking he needed to buy a left-handed rig, just until his right arm healed. Now he was having second thoughts. A left-handed holster would tell people something was wrong with his right arm. But if somebody did make a try at him, he’d never be able to get the gun out left-handed in time. Not reaching across his body. Unless he reversed the gun in the holster, wore it butt forward. That’d make it easier to grab left-handed. Maybe nobody would notice if the gun sat butt-forward in his holster.
    â€œWhat are you thinking?” she asked.
    â€œJust that you’re probably right,” he said. “I need to look as natural as possible.”
    â€œHow many people know you’re not left-handed?” she asked.
    â€œProbably people who know me,” Clint said.
    â€œThere’s nothing in your reputation about being right-handed?”
    â€œI don’t believe so.”
    â€œThen it’s only folks who know you that’ll notice something like you drinking coffee with your left hand,” she said.
    â€œI suppose that’s right.”
    â€œWell then, just relax and enjoy your coffee,” she said. “Maybe you’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
    He found the sight and sound of her relaxing, so he decided to do what she said.
    Â 
    After coffee, Clint offered to walk Rosemary back to her hotel, since it was now dark.
    â€œMaybe I should walk you,” she said.
    â€œDidn’t we just finish talking about how everything needs to seem natural?” he asked. “That means I walk you back.”
    â€œOkay.”
    His money was in his right pocket, so he couldn’t get to it with his left. In the morning he’d have to switch it. For now, Rosemary paid for the coffee.
    They left the café and he walked her to her hotel.
    â€œYou can get your wagon fixed in the morning and be on your way,” he said.
    â€œI think we’ll take a day or two here, get some rest before continuing on,” she said. “Can I look in on you in the morning?”
    â€œSure,” he said. “I’d like that. Goodnight, Rosemary.”
    â€œGoodnight, Clint.”
    He waited until she went inside, then walked back to his own hotel.

TEN
    Clint woke in the morning lying on his back. He didn’t move. If he stayed still for a while, there was a chance his right arm would move when he decided to try it. But until he tried, everything was okay.
    He moved his left first, ran it over his face, dug a thumb and forefinger into his eyes to clean them out. Then he took a deep breath and tried to move his right arm. He was able to move it, and that was encouraging, but then he tried to move his fingers.
    Nothing. A little pain, but they didn’t move.
    â€œCrap,” he said. “Goddamnit!”
    He sat up in bed, dragging his right arm with him. He got up, poured some water in a bowl from a pitcher and, one-handed, washed as well as he could.
    He managed to get himself dressed, and then came to his boots. It had been a bitch getting them off the night before, but he’d finally done it. Getting them on one-handed was easier. All he had to do was get his foot in, and then stand up. When that was done, he