The Complete Western Stories of Elmore Leonard - Elmore Leonard [210]
And he might have made a play then, but by that time I was on guard, holding a Colt and a Winchester and he knew I’d use them—with a stiff left arm to testify to the fact.
So they made the show of riding away. It didn’t have to be done then and there, face to face, not when they know they got all night.
The girl asked, “But why wouldn’t they just leave for good?”
“With the odds in their favor?”
“But they wouldn’t dare plan a holdup now. They’re known.”
“Only by us,” Brady said.
“We’re still enough to testify against them,” the girl said earnestly. “They know that much.”
She remembered being frightened in front of Edward Moak, then amused, considering it an unusual experience, one that would make good telling, especially if you described it almost casually. And for a moment she had even pictured herself doing this. But now, realizing it and not wanting to realize it, looking at Brady’s face and waiting for him to say something that would relieve the nervous feeling tightening in her stomach, she knew that it was not over.
“Moak must have a good plan,” Brady said, “to stay around here studying the land for two weeks. He’s not going to waste it because of one man. Especially if the man’s the same one almost shot his arm off one time. Then there’s Albie. His pride’s hurt and the only way to heal it is to bust me. So they’ll be back.”
The girl’s eyes were open wide watching him. “And we just wait for them?”
“I’ve thought it out,” Brady said. “First, I can’t leave you here alone. As you said, you know their names. But two of us running for it would be hard put, not knowing where they are.”
“You’re saying you could make it alone,” the girl said. “But I’d slow you down.”
Brady nodded. “I’ll say it’s likely, but we’ll never know because I’m not about to leave you alone.”
“Mr. Brady, I’m scared. I don’t know what I’d do if you left.”
“I said I wouldn’t. Listen, we’re staying right here and that narrows down the possibilities. If they want us they’ll have to come in here and they’ll have to do it before tomorrow morning… before your dad’s due back or anybody else who might happen along. Like my Uncle Joe Mauren.”
The girl was silent for a moment. “But if they don’t see you ride out they’ll think you’re… spending the night.”
Brady smiled. “All right, you worry about our good names and I’ll worry about our necks. If Ed Moak believes that, that’s fine. He’d think we don’t suspect he’s still around and he might tend to be careless.”
Her eyes, still on his face, were open wide and she bit at her lower lip nervously thinking over his words.
“You’re awful calm about it,” she said finally.
“Maybe on the outside,” Brady answered.
HE LEFT THE HOUSE twice that afternoon. The first time out the front door and around to the back, taking his time while his eyes studied the trees that began to close in less than a hundred feet away, just beyond the barn and the smaller outbuildings. He took his horse to the barn before returning to the house.
Less than forty feet away, directly he went to the barn, counting eighteen steps diagonally to the right from the house to the barn door. He milked the single cow in the barn, fed the horses—three, counting his own—checked the rear door which had no lock on it, then took the grain bucket he had used and propped it against the front door with a short-handled shovel. He picked up the milk pail and went out, squeezing past the door that was open little more than a foot.
His eyes went to the back of the stable that was directly across from the barn then along the fence to the house. He walked to the right, passed a corn crib that showed no corn in it through the slats, then turned to the house and went inside, bolting the back door.
They