A Horse Called Mogollon (Floating Outfit Book 3) (18 page)

‘
It was
real good of de Brioude to loan his escort to Tam,’ Colin commented
as he and Dusty left the barn.

‘
Or a
right smart move,’ the small Texan replied. ‘Doing it set him up
real good with the folks in town. Taken with the money he’s likely
to bring into Kerr County, it’ll put them on his side happen
anybody tries to make fuss for him.’

‘
You
mean they’d not take kindly to Libby doing anything that might
chase the de Brioudes away?’ Colin guessed.

‘
That’s
just what I mean,’ Dusty confirmed. ‘I know you were hoping to get
that Renfrew place, but you’d best forget it if de Brioude’s moved
in.’

‘
Libby
won’t like it,’ Colin said. ‘But she’s too smart to do anything
rash or foolish.’

‘
I
reckon she is,’ Dusty drawled.

On their arrival at the hotel,
Dusty and Colin found Peet waiting in the hall with the de
Brioudes. Smiling a welcome, the
Vicomte
advanced with his right hand held out
towards the Scot. Dusty thought that the smile looked a little
forced, then became aware of a change come over the Frenchman’s
face. What started out as a flickered look his way turned into a
longer, closer scrutiny. It almost seemed that de Brioude saw
beyond Dusty’s small, insignificant outer shell and suspected
something of the real man underneath.

‘
Ha!
M’sieur
Farquharson,’ the
Vicomte
said, jerking his eyes from Dusty and shaking
hands with Colin. ‘I am so pleased that you could come to see me.
If your friend doesn’t mind, we’ll go into the dining-room and
talk.’

‘
I’m at
your service, sir,’ Colin answered. ‘May I present—’

‘
Good
afternoon, young man,’ Beatrice put in, advancing with her most
sensual glide and addressing Dusty. ‘My husband and I wish to speak
privately with
M’sieur
Farquharson. I am sure you won’t mind waiting in
the barroom?’

Studying the
Vicomtesse,
Dusty decided that Mark had not
exaggerated when describing her physical attractions, Nor, in
Dusty’s opinion, did Libby go far out in her uncomplimentary
assessment of Beatrice’s character. There was an underlying
hardness about the woman which hinted at a harsh, intolerant
disregard for others, determination to have all things her own way
and latent snobbery. No matter how her husband felt about the small
Texan, she clearly dismissed him as an unimportant, inconsiderable
nobody unfit to be in her company.

‘
But
this—!’ Colin spluttered, annoyed by the
Vicomtesse’s
treatment of a friend.

‘
It’s
all right, Colin,’ Dusty interrupted cheerfully. ‘I know how it is.
You go talk your business. I’ll have a beer while I’m
waiting.’

‘
You
may tell the—how do you say—bartender to charge your drinks to my
husband,’ Beatrice purred, in a way calculated to charm a naive
country boy and make him subservient to her will.

‘
Of
course you may,’ de Brioude confirmed, still darting puzzled and
worried looks from Colin to Dusty.

‘
Come,
m’sieur?
Beatrice said, laying a hand on Colin’s sleeve. ‘Let us see
what kind of a horse trade—don’t you call it?—we can
make.’

Gripping
Colin
’s arm,
and giving him no opportunity to complete his introduction of
Dusty, the
Vicomtesse
led him into the small dining room at the left of the hall.
For a moment de Brioude seemed to be on the verge of speaking to
Dusty. Deciding against it, the
Vicomte
went after Colin and his wife. Eyeing
Dusty’s gun belt with the kind of mocking amusement that the small
Texan had seen on other faces, until he had been given cause to
draw the Colts, Peet followed the others.

Watching them go, Dusty smiled
sardonically. During the War, he had met several members of the
European aristocracy, either as combatants or military observers.
Accustomed to the near-feudal class-distinctions of their
society
—as
strong in the French Republic as elsewhere in the Old World—they
had often failed to appreciate that more free-and-easy conditions
prevailed upon the United States’ Western frontiers. So he felt
neither surprised nor annoyed at the de Brioudes’ behavior towards
him.

Regarding Dusty as a mere
employee
—and
probably not an important one at that—the de Brioudes did not want
him around while they talked business with Colin. Although
the
Vicomte
had hidden his feelings, his wife had made no
attempt
to
do
so. Dusty felt relieved that he had not been introduced. If Colin
had done so, it might have been an embarrassment for all concerned.
Learning Dusty’s identity would have most likely changed the de
Brioudes’ feelings and caused them to invite him to join them.
After which, if either of them had asked Dusty’s advice, his answer
might be detrimental to Colin’s trading.

All in all, Dusty decided that
he was better off unre
cognized and waiting in the barroom until a deal
had been concluded. Then, if Colin felt so inclined, he could
perform the introduction and most likely hand the de Brioude family
something of a surprise.

On entering the
dining room,
Beatrice directed Colin to a table covered with a white lace cloth
probably brought out by the owner in honor of her visit. Crossing
to the window, Peet leaned his shoulder on the wall and looked out.
The hunter’s presence did little to relieve Colin’s annoyance at
how the de Brioudes had treated Dusty. Obviously they regarded Peet
as suitable to listen to their business. Possibly they felt that
they might need the hunter’s specialized knowledge, which was
understandable.

Turning his attention fully to
the
Vicomtesse
as she asked if he would care for a drink or anything to
eat, Colin decided that she had taken care with her appearance.
Under the black top hat, with its silken retaining band extending
to her waist, her hair looked perfectly groomed and face
faultlessly if tactfully painted and powdered. Her snow-white
blouse and black riding habit exhibited her physical attractions
without being blatant. Diamonds decorated her wrists and
fingers.

After Colin had declined
Beatrice
’s
offer, de Brioude made no attempt to start discussing business.
Instead he repeated his thanks for Colin saving his wife and
commented on Mogollon’s excellence. Colin sensed an air of tension
shared by the other occupants of the room and wondered at its
cause.

Could it be that de Brioude had got
Colin alone to try to force him into selling Mogollon?

That seemed highly unlikely.
Perhaps Peet did not know Dusty Fog, or recognize the small
Texan
’s
potential, but he would be unlikely to be party to such a scheme.
Nor would de Brioude contemplate making the attempt, even with the
favor of Kerrville’s citizens swinging his way.

Yet there was something. Just
what, Colin could not decide. As if becoming aware of the
Scot
’s
thoughts, Beatrice put on her most charming manner.

‘
And do
you plan to make Texas your home,
m’sieur?’
she inquired.

‘
Aye,
that I do, ma’am,’ Colin replied and turned to her husband. ‘I
don’t want to sound impertinent, sir, but you have this reception
soon and Captain Fog’s waiting in the bar for me.’

‘
Cap’n
Fog!’ Peet yelped, thrusting himself away from the wall. ‘You mean
that short—that—the feller who was with you’s Dusty
Fog?’

‘
He
is,’ Colin agreed.

‘
Dusty
Fog!’ the
Vicomte
croaked, staring at the door.

‘
Mon
Dieu!’
Beatrice gasped, almost at the same moment.

Only by making an effort did
Colin keep his face impassive and hide the amusement he felt at the
surprise shown by the de Brioudes and Peet. Having seen several
people
’s
reactions at discovering that the short cowhand was the legendary
Dusty Fog, he found nothing unusual in their startled
exclamations.

‘
You
ain’t joshing us?’ Peet demanded, crossing the room.

‘
If you
think that,’ Colin replied calmly, ‘go over to the bar and ask
him.’

‘
Hell!’
ejaculated the hunter, glaring as he meant to follow the Scot’s
suggestion. ‘Then—!’

‘
Arnaud!’ Beatrice said loudly, chopping off the hunter’s
words. ‘What must Captain Fog think of us, acting as we
did?’

‘
We
must make amends!’ de Brioude went on. ‘Abe, would you go and ask
Captain Fog if he will join us?’

At that moment, the crackle
of
gunfire
sounded from across the hall. The barroom lay in that direction, so
Colin did not hesitate. Drawing his Dragoon, he sprang to and
jerked open the door. Followed by Peet, the Scot darted across the
hall.

Entering the
bar-room of the Logan Hotel,
Dusty found its only occupants to be a slim, cold-eyed gambler
seated at a table on the side facing the door and a bulky,
surly-featured hard-case in cowhand clothing lounging at each end
of the counter. They were the two men who had accompanied the
hunter into the building. If he had recommended either man to the
de Brioudes, the hunter possessed mighty poor judgment or some
ulterior motive for doing it. No matter how they dressed, Dusty
doubted if the pair had ever worked cattle on a ranch. However, it
was none of Dusty’s affair.

‘
Howdy,’ Dusty greeted, crossing to the center of the bar.
‘Isn’t anybody serving, gents?’

‘
It
sure as hell don’t look that way,’ the man at the right side
answered.

If Mark Counter or
Tam Breda had been
present, they would have identified all three men. While Dusty had
heard Mark mention Stagge, Coxin and Royce, he failed to identify
them from his
amigo’s
brief, unflattering descriptions. The absence of Laura and
the small man deprived Dusty of clues that might otherwise have
helped him.

‘
You
don’t need no barkeep anyways,’ Coxin declared, from Dusty’s left
and eyed him with disdain. ‘They don’t serve no hard liquor to
frying-sized half-portions like you.’

‘
Milk’d
be more your needings, short stuff,’ Royce scoffed.

‘
They
do say milk never hurt anybody, mister,’ Dusty remarked
quietly.

‘
And
what’s that supposed to mean?’ Royce demanded, advancing along the
bar in a threatening manner.

Despite sensing the two
hard-cases
’
hostility, Dusty made no attempt to leave the room. His every
instinct told him that they were on the prod and determined to make
trouble for somebody. Experience with their kind in the Army and
since the end of the War had taught him that backing down would
solve nothing. Revising his opinion, Dusty classified them as
small-town loafers and bullies. Probably their arrival at the same
time as the hunter had been no more than coincidence, for seeking
regular employment rarely fitted into such men’s ways.

Deprived of drinks by the
bartender
’s
absence, the pair most likely wanted somebody on whom they could
work out their spite. Probably they had figured the gambling man to
be too tough a proposition. It would be in keeping with their
sort’s habits to pick on a small, unoffending and apparently
harmless young stranger. If that was the case, Dusty reckoned they
had made a mighty poor choice by selecting him as their
victim.

‘
I
didn’t come in here looking for fuss,’ Dusty warned gently,
swinging so that he placed his back to the bar. ‘So let’s forget
the whole thing.’

Dusty spoke in a tone of voice
that the enlisted men of Company
‘C’ and the OD Connected’s cowhands had
come to know and respect as a danger signal. When he used it, wise
men hunted for the storm-shelters or made good and certain that
they respected his wishes.

Failing to identify Dusty, so
not knowing his ways, Coxin and Royce continued to move in his
direction. While Royce held the small Texan
’s attention from the right, Coxin
glided closer as silently as he could manage. Aware of his
companion’s ability in a roughhouse brawl, Royce was content to
keep back and let Coxin make the opening attack.

Lulled into a sense of false
security by Dusty
’s small size and general air of unpreparedness, Coxin took
a step away from the bar and shot out his hands. He clamped a hold
on the front of Dusty’s shirt and left bicep, preparing to swing
him bodily into the center of the room. To Coxin, there seemed no
way in which his victim could avoid what he planned. Ignorance
concerning the ‘Victim’, especially of one aspect, was about to
cost the hard case dearly.