Pulling in a deep breath, Kay replied, “Jed was shot by a sheriff's deputy while riding in from the Badlands. And before you ask, the answer is yes. He was on the run from the law. Like I told you, he wasn't a good man. He was a good husband, though, as well as a good father.”
“Sometimes a man can pull that off,” Clint admitted.
“And Jed was one of those men. When he was killed, I never heard about it until over a month after it happened. He was gone a lot and sometimes wouldn't show up again for weeks or more.” Kay pulled in a breath and nibbled at her food. “After he died, the law came by to ask about money he might have hidden or if I knew where to find other men Jed worked with. Before too long, it all quieted down and it was just me and Henry.
“I raised my son . . . still raising him . . . not to be like his father. I've only passed along stories that show him in a good light. Since Jed has passed on, I figure he's paid for his sins and there's no reason Henry should have a tarnished picture of his father.”
Clint reached out to pat Kay's hand. “You don't need to explain that to me. You're doing the best you could with what you've got.”
Although Clint hadn't meant anything by touching her, there was a moment where both of them could only look down at his hand on top of hers. Clint eased his hand back so he could continue eating, and Kay showed him a soothing smile.
“After all this time,” she told him, “it's gotten so that I've nearly forgotten about what Jed used to do to earn the money he sent home. The law doesn't even pay me any mind and folks have stopped gossiping about stories of outlaws and such.”
“Has that changed?” Clint asked, even though he could see the answer in Kay's eyes.
She looked at him and held his gaze for a few seconds before nodding. “A man came here and asked about me and Henry. He acted as though he knew us, but I've never seen him in my life. When he asked about where Jed was buried, I told him to leave. You see, sometimes someone wants to follow up on those outlaw stories and get themselves a trinket from a grave or some other morbid nonsense.”
Clint had heard of that every once in a while. He didn't know it was a big problem, but he didn't exactly make it his business to look into such things, either. Considering some of the terrible things he'd seen some folks do to their fellow man, there wasn't a lot that could surprise Clint anymore.
“Did the man leave?” Clint asked.
“Yes,” Kay replied. “He left. Then, Henry told me he spoke to a stranger who had some stories about his father. From the way he described that stranger, Henry was talking to the same man who'd knocked on my door.
“One night, some time later, the man came back and tried to give me some money. He said it was owed to Jed and I refused. He insisted I take it and made such a fuss that Henry came to see if he could protect me.”
Smiling warmly, Kay glanced toward the closed door of Henry's room and said, “The man had a gun and I didn't want Henry to get hurt or get the wrong impression. Honestly, I didn't really know what to do. I refused the money, but the man shoved it into my hand and left. I told Henry that the stranger was a bad man and to tell the sheriff if he ever saw him around here again.
“After that, I couldn't just take that money and buy us all new clothes. No matter how much we needed that kind of money, I couldn't go through all of that and just take the money for ourselves.” Locking eyes with Clint, she told him, “I told Henry I was going to get rid of the money because it was dirty. I was certain that stranger was an outlaw and that there was blood on that money.”
Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, and she tried to wipe them away before they dripped onto the table. When she spoke, Kay kept her voice low and controlled. “I've tried to raise my son properly, Mr. Adams. I've tried to teach him to be a good man through and through. His father wouldn't have wanted it any other way. But we needed that money, so I kept it. I thought Henry wouldn't know so long as I used it just a little here and there when there wasn't any other choice. Most of it was still buried in that box. But . . . I guess Henry knew the whole time. He is a smart boy, after all.”
Patting her hand once more, Clint said, “He is a smart boy. He's also never forgotten about what happened to his father.”
“I don't even know what really happened to him. All I know is he was shot. Everything else has become muddled over the years so I don't know why he was running or who he was with.”
“None of that matters in this instance. What matters is that Henry's figured out something for himself and he's acting on it. He took that money to try and hire a gunman. Does that sound at all familiar?”
Kay thought that over for a bit. “He said something about hoping the man who killed his father got what he deserved, and I told him he'll get what's coming when he's judged by the Lord above. He hasn't said anything else since then.”
“Can I have a word with Henry?” Clint asked.
She looked at him for a moment and started shaking her head. “I don't think that's a very goodâ”
“Just one question, then. After that, I'll be on my way so you can get back to your life.”
“Say it from where you are and make it short,” Kay replied with a stern tone that hadn't been there before.
“Of course.”
Getting to her feet, Kay stepped toward the closed door and paused just long enough to get her hands on the gun she'd taken from Henry. Kay didn't aim the pistol at Clint, but she made certain he could see it when she nudged the door open a crack. “Henry,” she said through the doorway. “Mr. Adams has a question for you.”
Henry started to walk forward, but was stopped by his mother's voice.
“You'll stay in your room,” she said. “Just answer from there.”
“All right,” Henry replied.
Clint stood up and looked at Kay until he got a nod to let him know he could proceed. “Henry, who were you going to hire those men to shoot?” When he didn't get an answer, Clint added, “Was it that stranger who came by here with that money?”
A few moments passed in silence before Henry's voice squeaked from his room.
“Yes,” the boy said. “He took that money from Pa and probably killed him to get it. He should be rotting in hell.”
“That's enough,” Kay said as she gently closed the door.
Clint nodded. “That's more than enough, ma'am. Thanks for the supper. I'll be on my way.”
Kay hesitated as an apologetic look drifted across her face. Since she couldn't find the proper words to say to him, she lowered her eyes and turned her back as Clint left through the front door.
NINE
Since Clint was staying in one of the rented rooms above the Whitecap Saloon, he went back there after he left the Hasselman place. Considering what he'd heard while he was at that little house, he would have gone back to the saloon even if he wasn't staying there. About three seconds after he stepped into the place, he was spotted.
Shelly might have been shorter than most everyone else in the room, but she didn't have any trouble working her way through the crowd and shoving aside a few drunks when she had to. By the time she got to Clint, she was nearly out of breath.
“Did that kid get back home safely?” she asked.
Clint looked at her for a moment as if he was watching her dance. An amused grin came to his face and stayed there even after she began scowling up at him.
“What's so funny?” she asked.
“Is there something between you and Henry that I should know about?” Clint asked.
Shelly waved his question off as if she was swatting a fly. “Of course not. Can't I be concerned for the poor fella?”
“Sure, but I wouldn't expect you to plow through this crowd just to ask that question.”
She shrugged her shoulders, which were now exposed thanks to the blouse that was pulled down to display an ample amount of skin to attract the evening crowd. Her breasts were plump and swayed nicely every time she moved. “He came to me, Clint. I don't know. I guess I just want to make sure he doesn't get hurt because of it.”
Taking the beer handed over by the bartender, Clint told her, “He didn't come for you, remember?”
Smirking mischievously, Shelly said, “He might have talked along those lines, but his eyes were telling a different story. If he didn't intend on seeing what I had to offer, he was thinking about it before too long.”
“Nobody could fault the boy for that,” Clint said as he placed a hand on Shelly's ample backside and gave her a squeeze. “He is only human, after all.”
Shelly moved closer to Clint and practically melted into the crook of his arm. “You made sure he was safe, didn't you?”
“Yes, I did.”
“How sweet.”
“I'd say cautious is more the word for it.”
“Why?”
Without taking the time to go into every last detail, Clint gave her a quick retelling of what had happened since the last time he and Henry had been at the Whitecap. Despite the fact that Shelly had to have known some of the details already, Clint wanted to watch her and see how she reacted to some of what he said.
What concerned him the most was the part where he mentioned the stranger that had paid the Hasselman house a visit. Shelly didn't do anything out of the ordinary, so Clint was pretty sure that she didn't have anything else to add on the subject.
Clint finished his story at the same time he finished his beer. Even though there were plenty of others around, none of them but Shelly seemed to give a damn about what Clint was saying. Shelly, on the other hand, was enthralled.
“So some outlaw came over to drop off all that money?” she asked.
“Apparently. Do you know anything about it?”
“Why would I know anything?”
Clint eyed her closely until she finally crumpled under the pressure.
“Maybe I know something,” she admitted.
“Go on and tell me.”
“Not here,” Shelly replied while glancing around at the bar and the men gathered at or around it. “Somewhere we can talk privately.”
“Nobody around here seems to give a damn about any of this,” Clint said. “And something tells me that you're just bluffing to get me to yourself.”
Shelly's eyes widened and she pulled in a surprised gasp. “Why, Clint Adams, what an arrogant and egotistical thing to say!”
“If I'm wrong, I'll apologize.”
Leaning forward with a sly grin on her face, Shelly ran her hand along the front of Clint's shirt until she was able to play with the top two buttons. “Apologize first.”
“Why? Am I wrong?”
“I'd sure like to see it,” she said with a shrug.
Clint laughed and put enough money on the table to cover his first beer as well as the next. “Now I know you don't know anything. As much as I'd like to stay here and play with you, I've got things to do.”
“What could be more important than playing with me?”
Hearing the promise in her voice, Clint couldn't help but let his gaze wander down the front of Shelly's dress. As if playing to every movement of his eyes, she leaned forward and shifted her weight so he could see far enough down the front of her blouse to spot the hint of pink nipples just beneath the flimsy fabric.
“I was thinking of looking around for a trace of that stranger Mrs. Hasselman was talking about,” Clint said.
“And I may just be able to help you with that.”
“Are you joking?”
Shelly's face became serious for a fleeting moment, which was tempered by her normal grin. “Of course I'm being serious. If you don't trust me, there's one good way to find out for sure.”
Clint decided to go along with her for the time being. Of course, a big factor in making his decision was the strength in Shelly's grip as she dragged him to the narrow staircase that led up to the rooms for rent.
TEN
As for rooms built over a saloon, Clint's wasn't too bad. It had a fairly comfortable bed, a washbasin and a door with a lock that actually worked. Clint didn't bother with the lock since he wasn't planning on being in the room for long.
“All right, Shelly,” he said once they were both inside the room. “Tell me what you wanted to tell me.”
Grinning even wider as she walked up to him, Shelly slipped both arms around him and rubbed her breasts against Clint's chest. “You just wanna dive right in, huh? I guess I can go along with that.”
Clint placed his hands on her shoulders, but only so he could move her back a little. “You know what I'm talking about. I need to get going soon.”
“Where are you going to?”
“I don't think that stranger Mrs. Hasselman was talking about is just going to leave because he was asked. Usually, someone who hands off that much money wants something in return.”
“You think she's in trouble?”
“I don't know yet. That's why I was going to try and catch him lurking around that house.”
“Do you honestly think someone lurking around the house is gonna step right back up to his old spot so soon after you left?”
Trying to take some of the edge from his voice, Clint said, “If you tricked me up here, just say so now before I get too bent out of shape.”
“It wasn't a trick.” Shelly slid her hands up so they could lock behind Clint's neck. Pulling him down while she raised herself up on her tiptoes, she seemed to be climbing up Clint's front like she would a tree. “I've seen the fellow you're talking about,” she whispered.