Destiny Of The Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone

of the two girls of the house came over to their table then. She couldn’t have been much over thirty-five, though the dissipation of her profession made her look much older. She was somewhat chubby, with stringy, unkempt hair. A couple of years ago a drunken customer had knocked out two of her teeth, giving her a gap-toothed smile. She was wearing a very low-cut camisole, over which spilled an overly generous pair of breasts.
    BANG!
    â€œOh!” the woman said, jumping.
    Preston and the others at the table laughed. “What’s the matter, Becky? You lettin’ a little thing like a gunshot scare you?”
    â€œIt does make me nervous,” Becky admitted.
    â€œNo need in bein’ nervous about it, unless you the one gettin’ shot at. Where you been anyhow? I haven’t seen you all afternoon.”
    â€œI’ve been asleep.”
    â€œAsleep? In the middle of the day?”
    â€œWell, honey,” Becky said seductively. “You boys rode me pretty hard last night, then you put me away wet.”
    â€œSon of a bitch, Becky, how you talk,” Manning said as he grabbed himself.
    â€œSo, how about it? Are any of you ready to show ole Becky a good time?”
    Preston chuckled. “Well, now, that’s the problem, Becky. Seems to me that I show you a better time than you show me. Hell, maybe I should charge you.”
    The others at the table laughed.
    â€œHoo, now, ain’t you the one, though?” Becky teased. “Well, don’t you worry none. If you ain’t ready for me just yet, they’s plenty others in here that is.”
    BANG!
    â€œOh, shit!” one of the men at the front door said.
    Brandt looked toward the door. “What do you mean, ‘Oh, shit’?” he called. “What happened, Lou?”
    â€œI shot the son of a bitch,” Lou said, his gun still smoking.
    â€œDead?”
    â€œYeah, I think so.” Lou looked back at Brandt. “It was an accident, Major. I didn’t mean to kill ’im.”
    â€œGet out there and take care of it.”
    â€œTake care of it? How? What do you mean, take care of it?”
    â€œYou can’t leave him lyin’ in the street. I’m not goin’ to run a town that has bodies lyin’ in the street.”
    â€œWell, hell, don’t you think some Mex is goin’ to pick ’im up?”
    â€œI said you take care of it,” Brandt said. “Take him down to the undertaker.”
    â€œAll right,” Lou said reluctantly. “You come with me, Al.”
    â€œWhat the hell for? You’re the one killed him.”
    â€œ ’Cause I can’t carry him by myself.”
    â€œGo with him, Al,” Brandt ordered.
    â€œAll right, Major, if you say so. But it don’t seem fair to me, seein’ as I’m not the one that shot the son of a bitch.”
    As the two men left, Brandt looked up at Preston. “I want you to go into Corpus Christi tomorrow and meet someone that’s coming in on the train.”
    â€œAll right. What’s his name?”
    â€œPugh,” Brandt said. “Dingus Pugh. He was in prison with us. You remember him, don’t you?”
    â€œOh, yeah, I remember him.”
    â€œI told him he could join up with us, but I need someone to meet him and tell him where we are.”
    â€œSure, I’ll do it,” Preston said. “I’ll be glad to.” He smiled broadly. “I’m always ready to go into Corpus Christi.”
    â€œYeah, I thought you would be,” Brandt replied.

C HAPTER S EVEN
    Alice King enjoyed her trip to Austin. When she was younger, she had attended finishing school in Austin and, while there, met Loretta Dixon, the daughter of a state senator. The two young women became fast friends, and had been exchanging letters and occasional visits ever since.
    Although Alice loved the ranch, she did sometimes miss some of the things she had enjoyed while attending school