Gun Play at Cross Creek Read Online Free PDF Page A

easy-goin’ to be believed.”
    â€œI wouldn’t bank on that, old-timer.”
    Milton looked him hard in the face. The old man’s eyes seemed to grow bigger in the early morning light as he leaned toward Atwater. Finally, he shrugged. “No, I don’t think I would. Give me five minutes. You can have your horse then. Wait in the office over there.” He cocked his head over one shoulder toward a tiny cubicle near the front door.
    Atwater nodded, walked to the small room, and stepped inside. It featured a small table, one of its four legs balanced on a slab of wood to keep it from wobbling too much, and two ladderback chairs with the slats missing.
    As Atwater lowered himself into the chair in front of the desk, it creaked alarmingly, swayed until he braced himself with one foot, then the whole precarious assembly settled down with a final groan.
    Milton was as good as his word. Five minutes later he was standing in the office doorway. Atwater hadn’t even heard him approach. When he became aware of the old man’s gaze, he turned to see Milton looking at him oddly, his head tilted at an angle, like that of a curious bird.
    â€œYou do favor somebody I seen once,” Milton said. “I can’t put a finger on it, but I know I seen you before. Never been through here, have you?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œIt’ll come to me. In the meantime, though, I’d steer clear of Marshal Kinkaid. You look to me like the kind of man he likes to memorialize with a notch. Maybe even two.”
    â€œTell me about Kinkaid.”
    â€œTell you what?”
    â€œWhatever you know.”
    â€œAin’t much to tell. Cross Creek was gettin’ to be a hellhole. All them hands comin’ in and kickin’ up their heels of a payday. Got so ordinary folks didn’t much want to come in town, much. Ain’t good for business. Somebody, I think it was Tate Crimmins, heard Kinkaid was lookin’ for work. He handled it pretty much by hisself.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, looking for work?”
    â€œI mean the same thing anybody means. He was out of a job. Course, Tate didn’t much care why. He knew Kinkaid was quick, and that he didn’t mind a little mess. That was his stock in trade, anyhow, accordin’ to Tate. Supposed to have cleaned up three, four other towns. Someplace in Kansas. He was down in Colorado, last. Got hisself run out of a job, though. Too quick, some people said. Hair trigger. And when there wasn’t no trouble, he went around lookin’ to see could he scare some up. Least, that’s the way I heard it.”
    â€œYou tell Crimmins that?”
    â€œHell, I told ever’body’d listen. Only nobody would. See, I do a good business on weekends. A lot of them hands board their mounts with me. The way Tate was lookin’ at it, I didn’t want a strong marshal ’cause it would scare them hands off. That it would hurt my business. Tate’s wrong, though. Hands still got to drink, and they still got to leave their mounts someplace. Wasn’t gonna make no difference to me.”
    Atwater leaned back in the rickety chair. The old man tensed for a second, as if waiting for the chair to collapse, but Atwater was careful.
    â€œWish I could remember where I seen you before, though. Surely have. I know that much.”
    â€œIt’ll come to you.”
    â€œWhat’d you say your name was?”
    â€œI didn’t.”
    â€œAshamed of it?” Milton asked.
    Atwater chewed at his lower lip. He took a long time answering, and when he did, he surprised both himself and Milton. “Of my name, no. Of my past, yeah, I reckon I am.”
    â€œUncommon honesty, Mr. . . .”
    The blank hung in the air. Atwater declined to fill it, and Milton shrugged.
    â€œWhat brings you to these parts?”
    â€œLooking for someone. A woman, name of Kate Atwater. At least, that used to be her name. Now, I