The Loner: Inferno #12 by J.A. Johnstone Page A

and if that happens, Harwood’s liable to try gunning me again. I told you, I don’t want to hurt him.”
    “But you can’t travel at night,” Dunlap protested.
    “I don’t see why not.” The Kid fastened the saddle cinches. “This is a big valley. I can make camp on my own a few miles away, where there’s no chance of more trouble with Harwood. I was going to be riding on in a day or two, anyway. I’ll find somewhere else, maybe lay up for a week or two to let my horse rest. What’s north of this valley, anyway?”
    “More mountains,” Dunlap replied. “Get over them and there’s a basin with some ranches and a little settlement called San Blanco.”
    The Kid nodded.
    “That’s where I’ll head, then.”
    “Dadgum it!” Dunlap slapped his hat back on his head. “At least let me round up some supplies for you. We got plenty of food. We can spare enough to get you to that town. Shoot, that’s the least we can do for you.”
    The Kid wasn’t sure why everybody felt so grateful to him when he hadn’t really done anything to help these pilgrims. But some extra provisions would make his journey easier, so he nodded. “All right. Thanks.”
    “Come on, Milo. We’ll get those supplies.”
    Farnum shook his head. “You can handle that,” he told Dunlap. “I’m gonna stay here, just to make sure there’s no more trouble.”
    “There won’t be,” The Kid said.
    “You can’t be sure about that. Depends on how soon Scott wakes up.”
    The Kid supposed Farnum had a point. “Suit yourself.”
    After Dunlap had hurried off, Farnum went on, “Scott ain’t a bad hombre, you know.”
    “I never said he was.”
    “He’s a pretty close-mouthed cuss most of the time, and he ain’t what you’d call friendly to most folks. But he really cares about that woman. Mrs. Ritter.”
    “I don’t doubt it,” The Kid said. “Any problems they have are between them, though. I don’t have anything to do with it.”
    “I got a hunch you’re right.” Farnum nodded. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you when she thinks nobody’s watchin’. I didn’t know her when her husband was over there in Arizona with Crook, but Scott’s told me enough I figure she was really devoted to him. Must’ve hit her mighty hard when he died. Scott said he figured she’d never want anything to do with another man after that, but he got it in his head he was gonna see if she’d warm up to him anyway. Well, she did, after so long a time. But now maybe she figures she made a mistake.”
    That was the longest speech The Kid had heard Farnum make.
    “I hope they work it out. I don’t wish trouble on anybody.”
    “That’s sort of an odd way for a gunfighter to feel, ain’t it?”
    “Not when that gunfighter just wants to be left alone.”
    Dunlap walked up a moment later carrying a canvas sack that bulged with food and supplies.
    “There you go, Kid,” he said as he held it out. “With our thanks.”
    “I’m the one who ought to be thanking you.” The Kid took the sack and tied it to his saddle. Then he extended his hand to Dunlap. “Good luck to you.”
    The wagonmaster gripped his hand hard. “The same to you, Kid.”
    The Kid hesitated, then asked, “Did you happen to see whether Harwood regained consciousness yet?”
    Dunlap nodded. “Yeah, he was sittin’ and talkin’ with Mrs. Ritter. I didn’t disturb ’em, and nobody else is, either.”
    “Good. I hope it all works out.”
    The Kid shook hands with Farnum as well, then swung up into the saddle. “Enjoy your lives here in Raincrow Valley.” He touched his fingers to the brim of his hat in a salute and turned the dun to ride out of the circle of wagons.
     
     
    Full night had fallen, but once The Kid was away from the campfires and his eyes had adjusted, the millions of stars in the ebony sky overhead provided enough light for him to see where he was going. He followed the creek, figuring that would be the easiest route to the northern part of the