Wildfire

by J. R. Roberts

  “I don’t care if you found the recipe under a rock. This is some damn fine beer.”

  Beaming proudly, the bartender straightened up and wiped off the bar. “Anything else I can get you?”

  “Actually, I’d like to know if you’ve seen any other strangers come through here recently.”

  “Strangers?”

  “Yeah. I lost track of some friends of mine and I think they may have come through here.”

  The bartender’s face darkened and he let out a worried breath. “Your friends didn’t go to the Wilkins place by any chance, did they?”

  “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “Because there was some bad things happening out there,” the bartender said with a wince. “Place burned right down to the ground, and we think it took the Wilkins folks with it.”

  “You think?”

  “They kept mostly to themselves. Just stayed out there on their own and only came to town when they needed supplies and such. Since they been to town less than a week ago, nobody was expectin’ them back soon. For all we know, they could have just packed up and left for somewhere.”

  Clint took another sip of his beer and shrugged. “Didn’t anyone go out to check?”

  The barkeep thought about that for a few seconds before saying, “Not as such.”

  “Then how do you know there was a fire?”

  “Someone mentioned it.”

  “Who?” The moment he asked that question, Clint could feel the suspicions arising within the barkeep’s head. He adjusted to it reflexively, as if he was trying to cover up a slip of the tongue at a card table. “If my friends did head out that way, I’d sure like to know.”

  That seemed to be enough to staunch the barkeep’s reservations. “Why don’t you ask Belle over there?” he said. “She’s the one who told me about it.”

  Clint looked in the direction the barkeep was pointing and spotted more than a few women in the vicinity.

  As if sensing the next question on Clint’s mind, the barkeep added, “She’s the one with her hair tied up in the ribbons.”

  “Good,” Clint said with a grin. “I was hoping she was the one you meant. I appreciate the help.”

  “Not a problem, mister. Hope to see more of you around here.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “And I hope you find your friends.”

  Clint only partially heard that last bit since he was focused completely on the woman that had been singled out.

  She seemed slightly taller than average, but it was hard to tell since she was leaning against the back wall. Although her dark hair was most definitely tied up in ribbons as the bartender had mentioned, it wasn’t the first thing that caught Clint’s attention. Considering that she wore a dress with a neckline low enough to display a beautiful pair of firm breasts, it was a wonder any man could notice those ribbons.

  Her lips were full and had a natural redness to them that made a man instantly wonder what they tasted like. The way she talked and smiled, it seemed pretty safe to say that she knew exactly how sweet her lips were. Holding a whiskey bottle in one hand, she set her eyes on Clint and ran the tip of her thumb along the neck of her bottle.

  “Hello,” Clint said as he approached her. “Are you Belle?”

  She smiled and nodded. “That’s me. Who might you be?”

  Before Clint could respond, he saw the man next to Belle reach out and shove him with the flat of his hand. At least, he would have shoved him if Clint hadn’t reflexively batted the man’s hand away before it touched him.

  “Find another place to stand, mister,” the man said.

  Clint sized up the other man in the space of a heartbeat. He was about Clint’s height, with just enough meat on his bones to make him think others should step aside for him. Just to back up the ugly sneer on his face, the man wore two guns and a knife hanging from the belts wrapped around his waist.

  “Don’t be so cross, Red,” Belle said before Clint could make a move. “Just give me a moment and I’ll come right back to you.”

  Red’s mouth hung open, and he hardly seemed to notice that Belle had spoken.

  “I won’t take long, Red,” Clint said. “I promise.”

  “You’d better not,” Red grunted. As he walked away, he made certain to knock Clint’s shoulder with his own.

  Once Red had stepped away, Clint looked to Belle and tipped his hat. “My name’s Clint. I just wanted to ask you about what happened at the Wilkins place.”

  “Are you friends of theirs?” Belle asked.

  “Yeah,” Clint replied, figuring that going after someone’s killers would qualify him as a friend. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them, though.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Belle said earnestly. “There was a fire. I saw it myself.”

  “You saw the fire?”

  She nodded. “I live a ways away from them, but it happened in the middle of the night and I could see the flames. I don’t know what happened to those folks, but I did see someone poking around that place a little while before the fire.”

  Trying not to look too interested, Clint asked, “You did? Was it one of the Wilkins?”

  “I don’t think so. They rode a horse, and the folks who lived there only traveled about in a wagon on account of their age.”

  “I see. Anything else you could tell me?”

  After thinking it over for a few seconds, Belle shook her head. “No. I didn’t see much else. Like I told you, it was dark.”

  “All right, then. I appreciate your time.”

  When Clint started to leave, he felt Belle’s hand wrap around his elbow. He allowed himself to be turned around so he could see her smiling face.

  “Sorry about earlier with Red and all,” she said. “He’s not from around here.”

  “Neither am I,” Clint said.

  “Yeah, but I can tell you’re more like the folks from these parts.” Sliding her hand along Clint’s chest and letting it linger near his belt buckle, she added, “We’re real friendly.”

  “I can . . . uh . . . see that.”

  “I can show you some more if you like.”

  “Sounds tempting. Maybe I’ll see you around here a little later.”

  “Oh, you sure will,” Belle said with a warm, promising smile.

  As Clint left the saloon, he was still thinking about Belle’s full lips and the last smile she’d shown him. Perhaps that was why he didn’t see Red taking a swing at him until it was too late to duck.

  TEN

  Red’s knuckles cracked against Clint’s jaw and sent him sidestepping away from the saloon’s front door. As he stepped forward, Red shook out the pain in his hand while grinning like he’d just won a prize.

  “Maybe you should go back to wherever you came from,” Red grunted.

  Playing on the confidence in Red’s voice, Clint kept his head down and leaned against the saloon. Once Red had strutted close enough, Clint balled up his own fist and sent it Red’s way. His punch didn’t make as much noise as Red’s, but it drove far enough into the man’s gut that he doubled over.

  “I’m sure Belle’s real impressed,” Clint said. “Now go back inside while you’re still able.”

  Red coughed and gritted his teeth. “That’s the last mistake you’re gonna make,” he said, and he rushed toward Clint with both arms held open.

  Now that Clint was ready for it, he evaded Red’s attack easily enough. All he needed to do was raise his arms and turn to one side to allow Red to stumble past him. For good measure, Clint dropped one of his elbows between Red’s shoulder blades.

  As he ran toward a nearby post, Red let out a frustrated snarl and dug his heels in to stop himself. When he wheeled around, he found Clint standing in the spot where he’d left him, with his shoulders squared.

  “What the hell did you want to know about that place that burnt down?” Red snapped.

  Clint had been expecting plenty from Red, but that question wasn’t one of them. “What did you say?”
Clint asked.

  Seeing the surprise on Clint’s face, Red stopped just outside of Clint’s reach and replied, “You heard me. Why the hell were you askin’ about that place?”

  “What business is it of yours?”

  “Don’t you worry about that, mister. Just steer clear of it.” With that, Red drew his pistol. Before he could take aim, he saw Clint take a few steps forward.

  “What do you know about that place?” Clint asked.

  “It’s mine, you hear? Mine!”

  Clint kept his eyes locked on Red. He stared him down until he’d moved in just close enough to reach out and snatch the gun from Red’s hand in a single blur of motion. If Clint’s jaw hadn’t still been aching from that first punch, he would have smiled at the look of shock on Red’s face.

  Holding Red’s gun by the barrel, Clint locked eyes again with the man. Whether it was out of bravery, stupidity or just plain stubbornness, Red would not look away. Finally, Clint flipped the gun around so he could empty the cylinder with a few practiced movements of his fingers.

  With every bullet that hit the ground, Red seemed to get madder. When Clint snapped the cylinder back into place and handed the gun to its owner, Red took it with a trembling hand.

  “Sorry for your loss,” Clint said.

  It was a short walk back into the saloon. Every step of the way, Clint listened to Red’s scrambling as the man scraped the bullets from the ground and fumbled to reload his pistol. Fortunately, Red was still angry and shaking enough to hamper his ability to fit the rounds properly into the chambers.

  “Do yourself a favor,” Clint said before walking into the saloon. “Don’t let me see you skin that pistol again. I won’t be feeling so generous the next time.”

  When Clint stepped back into the saloon, he found most of the people at or near the bar watching him. One of those people was Henry, and he didn’t look too happy. Before Clint could make his way over to the Texas Ranger’s table, he saw another familiar face. To say this one was more appealing than Henry’s would have been an understatement.

  “I want to thank you for getting him away from me,” Belle said as she walked over to Clint. Before he could reply, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss.

  Reluctantly, Clint eased away from her so he could get a look at Belle’s face. “What was that for again?”

  “For letting me get the hell away from Red. He was about to pull me out of here any moment.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s what it felt like. Anyway, you’re much better company.”

  Clint took her hand and led her to one of the few vacant spots inside the saloon. All of the tables were more or less occupied, but there was a corner toward the back that suited his purpose. He didn’t have to see Henry’s face to know the Texas Ranger wasn’t happy about that move.

  “What did Red want from you?” Clint asked.

  Belle shrugged. “What do most men want from me?”

  “Not that. It had something to do with the Wilkins place.”

  She furrowed her brow a bit and told him, “He asked about it, but I didn’t have much to say. I didn’t even tell him as much as I told you.”

  “What did he ask?”

  “Just what was left and if anyone else was looking around.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “Now you’re starting to scare me.” Shaking her head, she began to turn away from him while muttering, “Maybe I should just leave this place before tangling with another man.”

  “Red pulled a gun on me outside,” Clint said. “It seemed like it had something to do with what happened at the Wilkins place.”

  That caused Belle to stop and turn around to face him. “Well, you can take it up with him. He’s staying at the hotel. I know because he invited me back there with him. By the sound of it, he was going to be there until dark and then he was heading out somewhere. Before you ask, I don’t know where he was headed.”

  Clint nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Letting out a frustrated sigh, Belle spun around and left Clint in a huff.

  ELEVEN

  Clint arrived at Henry’s table carrying two mugs. As he sat down, he placed the mugs on the table.

  “What’s this?” Henry asked.

  “Beer,” Clint replied simply. “It’s really good.”

  Henry took the mug as if he thought it might nip at his hand. When it didn’t, he lifted it to his mouth and took a sip. In a matter of seconds, he was grinning and nodding. “That is good. Sure is better than the piss water these places usually serve.”

  “Where’s Talman?”

  “Hopefully he’s following that fella who tried to knock your head off not too long ago.”

  “You saw that, huh?” Clint asked.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Thanks for stepping in. I’ll bet Talman really enjoyed the show.”

  Despite the fact that Henry obviously knew something on that matter, he didn’t bother sharing it with Clint. Instead, he asked, “What was the cause of that scuffle?”

  “The man out there with me is named Red. I thought he was just trying to catch a lady’s eye, but it’s more than that.”

  “You sure?” Henry asked as he watched Belle wind her way through the crowd. “That’s quite a lady.”

  “Jesus, you were in here for the start of that fight, too?”

  “No, but Talman was. He may be a pain in the ass, but he’s good at his job.”

  “Anyway,” Clint went on to say, “Red’s got an interest in the place that was burnt down.”

  “You think he may be the fellow we’re after?” Henry asked.

  Reluctantly, Clint shrugged. “I don’t know. He sure seems to take offense in me asking around about it. He’s staying at the hotel.”

  Henry nodded. “I know. We saw him head that way after you taught him his lesson outside. Talman’s trailing him right now.”

  Clint looked around at the crowd filling up the saloon. Although there were plenty of people nearby, none of them seemed too interested in what Clint and Henry were doing. Even if they were, it was loud enough in there to cover up the two men’s voices.

  “I think we should all keep an eye on him,” Clint said. “It sounds like he may be riding somewhere tonight, and we don’t want to lose sight of him.”

  “Where’s he going?”

  After taking a drink of his beer, Clint replied, “I don’t know for certain, but Red might even be heading out sooner rather than later, after the conversation I had with him earlier.”

  Henry grumbled to himself as he looked into his mug and swirled the beer around. “I thought we were after more than one man.”

  “Red doesn’t strike me as the sort who would work all by himself.”

  “Does he strike you as a killer?”

  Without hesitation, Clint nodded. “He drew his gun, and he would have pulled the trigger if I hadn’t stopped him. Even if he’s not the man we’re after, he’s got some sort of interest in the place that was burned down. That’s got to count for something.”

  “It counts for a hell of a lot,” Henry said as he pushed back from the table and stood up. “Let’s see if Talman has anything to add to this situation.”

  Casting a few nervous glances around the room, Clint asked, “Do you care who sees me working with you?”

  “Hell no, I don’t care who sees!” Henry bellowed. “The next time you decide to stir up that kind of fight in the middle of the street, you’d better think twice!”

  At first, Clint was surprised by Henry’s outburst. Although it didn’t take long for him to figure out what the Texas Ranger was doing, Clint kept the shocked expression on his face. Judging by the looks on the faces of the other people within earshot, Henry was doing a fine job of explaining their conversation to any interested parties.

  Just to put some icing on the cake, Henry shot a murderous glare at Clint before stomping out of the saloon. By the time he’d left the place, most everyone else
inside had already gotten back to their own affairs.

  Clint was about to sit down when he noticed one man in the saloon who was staring at him for a bit longer than the rest. The man was a big fellow with coarse skin that resembled the floor of a desert. Rather than avert his eyes, he let them drift away to settle on one of the ladies moving through the crowd.

  As he left the saloon, Clint watched the man with the rough face. The man didn’t make any sudden moves or do anything too suspicious, but that didn’t keep Clint’s nerves from jangling inside of him.

  Once he stepped outside, Clint couldn’t help but feel like he’d made a mistake in turning his back on the man with the rough face. Knowing better than to second-guess his instincts, Clint turned right back around and pulled open the saloon’s door.

  Belle rushed toward him, so Clint took a step inside so his view wouldn’t be blocked by the woman.

  “I was hoping you hadn’t left,” she said breathlessly. “I wanted to tell you something.”

  Clint put his hands on her shoulders and moved her aside so he could get a look at the table where the rough-faced man had been. He picked it out before too long, but it was too late. The table was empty.

  The moment he saw that empty chair, Clint swore under his breath. He then turned around and left the saloon for good. He swore at himself again for wasting as much time as he already had.

  TWELVE

  Clint rushed to the hotel and went straight to the front desk.

  The man behind the desk looked to be somewhere in his fifties and dressed in his Sunday best. Straightening a string tie, the man asked, “What can I do for y—”

  “Two men checked into this hotel recently,” Clint interrupted without caring who else might be listening. “Where are they?”

  “Are you a friend or family?”

  Not wanting to get into an entire conversation, Clint grabbed the register from the desk and took a look at the most recent entry. While Henry or Talman’s names weren’t on there, he did see two signatures. The only ones other than those had been written several days before.

  The two newest arrivals were marked down for room numbers one and two. Sure enough, when Clint looked up to the hooks on the wall behind the clerk’s head, the keys to those two rooms were the only ones missing.