The Copper City - Chris Scott Wilson [39]
“Webster and Jeffers were your partners too.”
Upton shrugged. “No denying that. Figured you and me needed some help to shift that silver. Wouldn’t have gone far split four ways. The plan all along was that it was just for you and me. ’Sides, you earned your share, staying back there to face up to Quantro. I know it must have been tough, him being a killer and all, but you’re here so you must have made out all right, just like I knew you would. Now we’ve got him off our trail we’ve got a clear run.” He paused, but got no reaction.
He wished to God Dobey was in front, then he could figure out some sort of action. If he could keep him talking long enough, maybe he could work him into a better position. “Just think on all them saloons and poker games waiting on us along the trail. Them fancy cathouses too. How long is it since you had a woman? Not just any woman, but a real woman? You never had no money, did you, boy? Well, I’m telling you that there’s pleasure palaces like you never dreamed of. Crystal chandeliers and carpets on the floors as deep as prairie grass that suck at your ankles. And the women…” He shook his head in wonder that there could be such females. “Oh, the women. Some of ’em come from as far away as France. That’s in Europe. Real Par-is-ee-enne, they call ’em. Smell like flowers in full bloom from the mountains. And they know what a man likes. They know so well that when you come out of there your knees are so weak you can hardly stand up straight. They make you think that you never knew what women were like before. And believe me, you didn’t.”
There was silence. Goddammit, Upton thought, what’s he up to now? Where is he? Has he moved? Slowly, he let his right arm relax and begin falling, inching down the long reach to his gun.
“Keep still! Keep those hands high!”
Dobey stood up, his Colt leveled on Upton’s back. Cautiously, he walked down from the rim of the dry wash where he had been sitting while Upton loaded the horses. Let the bastard do all the work, he had thought, fingering his gun restlessly. He had earned it.
Now the waiting was over.
He closed in behind Upton’s back. Silently, he came to stand next to the horse’s rump, then reached up to pluck the six-gun from Upton’s holster.
Now the gunman was unarmed, Dobey could afford to have some fun with him. “I didn’t kill Quantro.”
Upton’s face twisted into an ugly grimace as he turned in the saddle and glared down at the man below him. “He’s not dead?”
Dobey smiled at Upton’s anger.
“But you winged him? Winged him good?”
“No. I figured you out before he got to me.”
Upton’s eyes swiveled to scan the horizon. “You damn fool. Then he’s still out there, coming after the both of us.”
“I guess so.”
“Then get your horse and let’s ride. We’ve got to put as many miles between him and us as we can. Come on boy. And give me my gun. If he’s here now…”
“Still scheming?” Dobey wore a half smile.
Upton’s eyes narrowed, his face relaxed, surrender and amiability grafted skillfully into his dusty skin. “You got all the cards, boy. It’s your play.”
The Colt moved a fraction. “You ain’t wrong. But, then, you’re not going any place. If I’m going to sample all these fancy whorehouses you take such pleasure jawing about, it’ll be on my own…”
Upton’s foot slipped from the stirrup while Dobey was talking. In a burst of desperation he lashed out. His boot heel caught Dobey’s gun hand. The Colt flew from his fingers, Dobey’s body twisting behind his wrenched arm. Upton’s leg came to the end of its swing, then whiplashed back. As Dobey fell forward off balance, Upton’s Spanish roweled spur raked across his neck. Dobey screamed, staggering backward.
Upton did not wait around. His heels were into the horse’s ribs. His hands scrabbled for the reins and the lead rope, tied to the saddle horn, snapped tight over his thigh. As the horse began to canter, he reached back and pulled his Winchester free from the scabbard. The rifle across his body, he worked its action then twisted to look back.
Dobey had flung himself clear of the churning