Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [120]
Duane harrumphed.
Necker peered over his shoulder. “You got somethin’ ta say?”
“Yeah. I’m bored. There’s never nothin’ ta do in this miserable town.”
Holding out a hand, Necker helped Duane to his feet. The action threw him off-balance and nearly sent both back to the ground. Luke reached out a hand to steady them.
“There’ll be excitement enough tomorry,” Necker said, recovering his footing.
Luke sharpened his gaze. “What happens tomorrow?”
Necker picked his teeth with his tongue. “Nothin’ that need concern you.”
Slipping his hands in his pockets, Luke rocked on his feet. “I want in.”
Faint strains of “Hello, Ma Baby” mixed with a dog barking in the distance. A man falling asleep in the saddle clomped by, his horse knowing the way home by heart.
Duane stepped forward, glass crackling under his boots. “How ’bout it, Neck? The man done said it’s up ta you.”
Hope kindled inside Luke. Comer must have given his blessing, but as any good leader, he’d delegated a feeling of power to his underling by letting him decide when. If something was happening tomorrow, though, then that when needed to be now.
He held Necker’s gaze.
The man wasn’t in any rush to give up his control. “I’m still a little sore about them mice.”
Duane huffed. “Oh, come on. Ya done laughed yer head off when you’s tellin’ the boys about it last night.”
“That don’t mean I enjoyed chasin’ after those critters while Lulie plumb wore my ear out. Shoot, they’s still popping outta everywhere and making her carry on like the end is comin’.”
“Well, why didn’t ya say nothin’? I’ll lend ya my traps. They work real good.” He nudged Necker with his elbow. “What do ya say?”
“I say he’s got to do something ta make up fer it. That’s what I say.”
Duane’s face split into a grin. “All righty. Ask him anythin’. He’ll do it. Won’t ya, Luke?”
“Pretty near.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he thought of Georgie and what he’d do if Necker’s plan involved her. Please, Lord. Don’t let it involve Georgie. Not again.
Scratching his jaw, Necker strolled out onto the street, looked up and down its length, then raised his gaze to the roofs of the buildings. “I got somethin’, but not here. Too many folks is around. Follow me.”
Duane gave Luke an excited glance. They followed Necker to Main Street. Though streetlamps lined the road, this section was well away from the saloons and bawdy houses. No lights came from inside the buildings. No people walked the boardwalks. No horses stood tied to the rail. Nothing but a swirl of dust as a breeze blew down the thoroughfare.
Necker reached inside his jacket and withdrew a gun. Luke froze. Slipping his finger through the trigger guard, Necker spun the pistol around, then caught it, muzzle down, grip toward Luke.
He accepted the weapon, then checked for ammunition. It was loaded.
With his other hand, Necker withdrew a second pistol and repeated the process, except this time the grip faced Duane.
Luke’s throat went dry. Was he going to make them duel? He couldn’t shoot Duane. Wouldn’t. He could wing him, though. But in return, Duane might outright kill him.
Eyes lighting up, Duane took the proffered gun. “I get to do it, too?”
“You too.”
Duane let out a whoop, the sound bouncing off the storefronts.
“Here’s what ya do,” Necker began. “Ya see all them telly-phone wires up there?”
Luke glanced at the grid of wires going in every direction. Down the street, up the street, across the street, and back again. Main connected everyone to everything and had four times as many lines running over it as any other street in the county.
“Well, we’re gonna have us a little contest.” Necker pointed to the east. “You get that side, Palmer. Duane gets the other. On the count of three, I wanna see who can sever the most lines in one minute’s time.”
Duane’s shoulders slumped. “Is that all? Shoot, I could do that with my eyes closed.”
The boy’s boast wasn’t far from the truth. Luke had hunted with him enough to know he was