The Complete Western Stories of Elmore Leonard - Elmore Leonard [105]
Boland said, taking his hat off, “I guess I don’t have to tell you what happened.”
“Dave—” Her voice was small, and now almost a whisper. Her eyes still wide.
He came out of his coat and brushed it half-heartedly before throwing it to a chair.
“I saw all of them, Ginny.”
“Dave—”
He looked at her curiously now across the few feet that separated them…. There was something in her voice. And suddenly he knew shewasn’t saying his name in answer to his words. He moved to her quickly and held her by the shoulders.
“Is it time? Are you ready now?”
She shook her head, looking at him imploringly as if she were saying something with her eyes, but she didn’t speak.
She didn’t have to.
“Hello, Davie boy.” The voice came from behind Virginia.
He stood in the doorway of the partitioned bedroom with the curtain draped over his shoulder. The white cloth dropped to the floor showing only part of him; damp and grimy, trail dust streaked and smeared over clothes that had not been changed for days. A yellow slicker was draped over his lower arm and his hand would have gone unnoticed if the long pistol barrel were not sticking out from the raincoat.
“Been a long time, hasn’t it!” he said, and came into the room carefully, lifting the slicker from his arm to drape it over a straight chair. “I almost didn’t recognize little Ginny with her new shape.” He grinned, winking at Boland. “You didn’t waste any time, did you?”
Boland stared at the man self-consciously, feeling a nervousness that was edged with fear, but he made himself smile.
“Jeffy, I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said.
“Wait’ll you see Red.” His head turned to the side and he called to the bedroom, “Red, come on out!”
Boland looked toward the curtained doorway and then to the dirt- caked figure next to him. “I wouldn’t have known you by sight, but your voice—”
“You didn’t forget that Cimarron crossing two years ago, did you?”
“Of course I remember,” Boland said. “You saved my life.” He tried to show friendship and appreciation at the same time and smiled when he said, “What are you doing here, Jeffy?”
“You’re a regular babe in the woods, aren’t you?” His head turned again. “Red! Dammit!”
He hesitated in the doorway, leaning against the partition, and then came into the room, straining to move his legs and holding his arms tight to his stomach as if his insides would fall out with a heavy step. He was as filthy as the other man, but his grime-streaked, bearded face was sickly white and his jaw muscles clenched as he eased himself down onto the cot which stood against the side wall nearer the two men.
He leaned back until his head and shoulders were against the adobe, then blew his breath out in a low groan. He held his right elbow to his side protectingly, and from under his arm a dark, wet stain reached in a smear almost to the buttons on his shirt.
Boland looked at Jeffy who was leaning against their small table with his arms folded and the pistol pointing up past his shoulder and heard him say, “Red’s sick.”
He glanced at his wife who was holding her hands close to her waist and then he moved closer to the cot. “How are you, Red?”
The man shook his head wearily, but didn’t speak.
Leaning over him, Boland said in subdued surprise, “That’s a gunshot wound!”
Jeffy came off the table now and pushed Boland away from the cot. “You want to know everything,” he said, and glanced down at Red. “Keep your eyes open. You’re not that bad hurt.”
“What’s the matter with you!” Boland flared. “He’s been shot clean through.”
Jeffy shrugged. “Tell him something he doesn’t know.”
Boland turned on him angrily. “What happened! If you’re going to dirty up my house, you’re going to tell me what happened!”
“You’re forgetting about that Cimmaron