The Complete Western Stories of Elmore Leonard - Elmore Leonard [207]
Albie stumbled against his horse, half turning to catch himself with both palms slapping against the saddle, but his horse side-stepped nervously and in the moment that Albie hung off balance Brady’s left fist drove into his ribs, cocked again as his right hand pulled Albie around, then hooked solidly into his jaw. Albie stumbled back off balance and this time he went down. He rolled to his side as he struck the ground, his right hand going to his hip, pulling back the coat, then hesitated.
Brady stood over him. “Try it, I’ll stomp you right into the ground.”
Albie looked up, squinting and rubbing the side of his jaw. “You her brother?”
“I got one thing to say to you,” Brady answered. “Take my suit off.”
“If you’re not a kin of hers,” Albie said, “you better be careful how you talk.”
“Just take it off,” Brady said.
He looked up, glancing again at the girl as she called, “There’s somebody coming.”
He was aware of the faint hoofbeat sound then, far off, but clear in the open stillness; and already halfway across the meadow, coming toward them from the pinyon slope that was perhaps four hundred yards away but seemed closer, he saw two riders. Directly behind them in the distance, the wagon trail was a thin sand-colored line coming down out of the dark mass of pinyon. They had descended that road, Brady judged, the same way he had come not an hour before.
Albie was on his elbow, turned now and watched them approach. Brady saw the grin forming on his mouth as they drew closer and again he glanced at the girl. “Who are they?”
She stood motionless, one hand shading her eyes from the sun glare. A breeze moved the fullness of her skirt and her hand dropped to hold the bleached cotton material against her leg.
“I’m not sure,” she answered.
“He knows them,” Brady said.
She studied them intently before her expression changed. “Yes… the one on the left, he was with Albie the first time.”
“Russ,” Albie said, pushing himself up to a sitting position. “Russ is my ma and the other one’s my pa.” He laughed then and called out, “Hey, Ma, this boy’s pickin’ on me!” He came to one knee as the riders came out of the aspen stand, reining their horses to a walk.
The one called Russ, slouched easily in the saddle but with a Winchester across his lap said, “Albie, you’re never going to learn.”
Albie came to his feet, brushing the seat of his pants. He was grinning and said, “Learn what, Ma?”
“That boy’s about to take his suit back.”
“Like hell he is,” Albie said.
Brady stepped toward him as he spoke and as Albie glanced around, Brady’s left hand slammed into his face. Brady was on him as he went down, pressing his knee into his stomach, and when he rose he was holding the Colt Albie had been wearing. He saw that it was his own.
“I told you,” Russ said.
Brady looked up at the two riders. “Either of you object?”
Russ shook his head. “Not us. It’s your suit, I guess you can take it if you want.”
“My Winchester, too,” Brady said.
Chapter Four
Private Business
RUSS HESITATED. His right hand was through the lever and the barrel pointed just off from Brady. The second rider, who was bearded and wore a low-crowned, stiff-brimmed hat, held his hands one over the other on the saddle horn.
He said, “Russell, give Mr. Brady his piece.” He spoke without straining to be heard and now his eyes moved from Brady—who was studying him curiously as he moved toward Russ to take the extended Winchester—to the girl and one hand lifted easily to touch his hat brim.
“You must be Kitty I’ve heard so much about.” And as she nodded he said, “Has Albie been a botheration to you, Miss Glennan?”
“I have to tell you that he has,” the girl said seriously. “And being his father, you should know about the things he’s been doing—”
The bearded man’s palm raised to interrupt