Read Only 06 - Winter Fire for Free Online

enough, the air cleared a bit. It also got cold enough to hang meat.
    Spanish Church wasn’t a lounging around kind of placewith a cherrywood bar, brass foot rails, mirrors, and fancy spittoons. The bar was made of whiskey barrels with planks stretched across their tops. The tables were the same, except for the one that had come from the bottom of Pader Gunther’s original wagon.
    Whiskey barrels cut in half and turned upside down served as chairs. Other chairs were made of mismatched cottonwood branches with cowhide stretched across for a seat. Wherever men hadn’t sat, hair in shades of red and brindle and white still clung to the stiff hides.
    There were many brands on the cowhides. Spanish Church had been a trading place for outlaws and rustlers for as long as the settlement had been crouched along a source of good water in a dry wilderness.
    â€œAnyone seen the padre?” Case asked easily.
    â€œDon’t boil your kettle,” Quincy said without looking up from his tattered cards. “He’s a-getting his beauty sleep.”
    Case glanced at the bartender and the dog. “That his wife?”
    One of the men snickered. He wore his gray-streaked hair Indian style, cut off at the shoulders with a knife and held away from his eyes by a band across his forehead. The headband wasn’t made of a rag or a length of rawhide. It was woven with a bold design that was neither Indian nor European.
    Though the man was a half-breed, he wasn’t a member of Moody’s gang.
    That’s the old outlaw they call Ute , Case thought. He must be here to get supplies for Sarah .
    Or himself. He wouldn’t be the first man to steal from a widow and kid .
    Ute looked at the sleeping man and dog, snickered again, and glanced at Case. Abruptly the old outlaw’s eyes narrowed, as though he somehow recognized Case.
    If so, Ute neither said nor did anything to draw attention to him.
    â€œOld man, ya gonna ante up or pass gas?” Reginald snarled at Ute.
    The tone of his voice said that he was on the losing end of the card game.
    Ute scooped a handful of silver coins from the table and dropped them in his pocket. Then he gave Reginald a gap-toothed smile and said in Spanish that his mother was a whore and his sister walked on all fours.
    The man to Reginald’s left smiled thinly, but neither Culpepper knew enough Spanish to realize the insult.
    â€œHey, you ain’t gonna take my money without giving me no chance to win it back!” Reginald said.
    â€œCome here at the new moon,” Ute said.
    â€œBut—”
    Whatever else Reginald wanted to say was cut off when Ute kicked over the table and shot to his feet with a speed surprising in a man his age.
    By the time the other players recovered, Ute was standing up, waiting for whatever came. A double-barreled shotgun was in his hands. Both hammers were eared back and ready to go. One of his thick, scarred fingers was across the triggers.
    â€œNew moon,” Ute said.
    Case was careful not to move. He also kept both hands in sight, a courtesy that didn’t pass unnoticed.
    Ute gave him a gap-toothed grin and backed out of the room before either Culpepper could stop him.
    â€œI’m gonna gut-shoot that son of a bitch,” Reginald said bitterly.
    â€œNot today you ain’t,” Quincy said. “Today we’re playing cards. Deal, Beaver.”
    The man called Beaver picked up the cards and dealt.
    The padre snored.
    Case sauntered over to the fire and gave the padre’s rump a brisk nudge with the toe of his boot.
    The padre kept right on snoring.
    â€œMan enjoys his own bug juice,” Case said to no one in particular.
    â€œI’m flat as a flea,” Reginald said. “Gimme the ante, Quincy.”
    â€œYou ain’t paid me from the last time.”
    â€œShee-it. I’m your brother!”
    â€œHalf-brother.”
    â€œShee- it .”
    Reginald turned his back on the table in disgust.