Only 06 - Winter Fire

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    â€œSorry,” she said. “We don’t have coffee. Too costly.”
    â€œMormon tea, then,” Ab said. “Something hot.”
    â€œWe put the cabin fire out at dawn and worked outside,” she said. “Wash day, you know.”
    Ab’s expression said he didn’t believe her.
    Looking at the condition of the Culpeppers’ clothes, Sarah understood his distrust. His pants looked as if they hadn’t been washed in a month of Sundays. He probably had forgotten what a lot of work wash day was.
    Or maybe he had never known.
    â€œNo biscuits,” Sarah continued in a calm voice, “no beans, no bacon, not even venison jerky. Hate to seem inhospitable, but I wasn’t expecting callers.”
    Turning in the saddle slightly, Ab tilted back his hat and looked directly at her.
    It was all she could do not to take a step away from him. There was something in his eyes that made her stomach churn.
    Then she remembered what Lola had said about Ab and his kin.
    They sold kids to the Comancheros, after doing things to the young’uns that would shame Satan .
    â€œIf your mules are thirsty,” Sarah said grudgingly, “you can water them at the creek.”
    â€œAin’t thirsty,” Ab said.
    Not even the eagle’s cry came to relieve the silence that descended.
    â€œYou ain’t real friendly like, are you?” he asked finally.
    â€œI have friends.”
    Her tone said she didn’t want any more—especially Culpeppers.
    â€œGal alone like you can’t have too many friends,” he said.
    â€œI’m not alone.”
    Ab glanced at Lola, then back at Sarah.
    â€œI meant gentlemen friends,” he said.
    â€œI have no interest in men, Mr. Culpepper. None whatsoever.”
    â€œWell, little lady, then I guess you won’t mind giving me back my man, will you?”
    â€œIf I had one of your men, you could have him instantly,” she said. “I don’t, so you had best look for your lost man elsewhere. Now.”
    Ab’s face seemed to flatten. His watery blue eyes took on an odd sheen.
    â€œNot so fast, missy,” he said. “I ain’t no trash to be sent packing by the likes of you and an old whore.”
    All pretense at civility was gone. Ab was using the cold tone Sarah remembered, the tone that said all females were worthless sluts.
    But it was his eyes that shocked her. She had never seen such naked hatred.
    â€œI don’t care for your language, Mr. Culpepper,” she said evenly. “Please remove yourself from Lost River ranch.”
    â€œI come for the polecat what murdered my kin,” he snarled. “Give him over.”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” she saidcoolly. “There is no murderer on Lost River ranch.”
    Kester’s mule took a few steps to the left.
    Lola’s shotgun came up in blunt warning. She brought both hammers back and watched Kester like the rattlesnake he was.
    â€œHe’s here,” Ab said. “We done tracked the murdering devil from Spanish Church.”
    â€œWere your kin wearing guns?” Sarah asked.
    â€œOf course they was. They’re Culpeppers!”
    â€œWere they shot from the front?”
    â€œCulpeppers ain’t no cowards,” he said. “They was facing him.”
    â€œThen there was no murder, was there?” she pointed out reasonably. “Your kin simply drew on the wrong man. They paid for their misjudgment with their lives.”
    Ab’s face flushed, then went pale.
    â€œThe man what killed my kin is in that there cabin,” he said coldly. “Get him.”
    â€œNo,” she said. “He’s near dead himself.”
    â€œWho cares? Get him!”
    â€œIf he survives, you may pursue your vendetta elsewhere,” Sarah said. “Until then, the man is my guest.”
    Ab stared down at her as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
    Despite the cold sweat on her ribs, she stared right back at him. Then she leveled the shotgun at his belt.
    â€œDon’t take your eyes off him,” Lola said. “No matter what happens elsewhere.”
    â€œI won’t.” Sarah’s voice was thin but steady. “Goodbye, Mr. Culpepper. Please don’t hurry back. We don’t take kindly to unexpected visitors.”
    A stream of tobacco juice landed wetly on the ground as Lola cleared her mouth.
    â€œWhat she means,”