Resolution - Паркер Роберт Б. - Страница 29

60.

We were sitting with Cato and Rose at a table in the Excelsior, where they no longer worked. They didn’t act like they didn’t work there. When Virgil and I came in, Rose went behind the bar and got four glasses and a bottle and brought them out.

“Nice thing,” Rose said, “’bout being out of work, gives you time to sit around and drink whiskey.”

We all sipped the first sip. I could feel it seep happily through me.

“Whaddya do when you’re working, Frank?” Virgil said.

Rose looked at him. He was puzzled.

“Same as you,” he said.

“And what’s that?” Virgil said.

Rose looked at him some more.

“Shootin’,” he said, and grinned, “or threatenin’ to.”

“That bother you?”

Rose looked surprised.

“Shootin’ people?” he said. “No.”

“You, Cato?”

Cato shook his head.

“Everett?”

“Depends on who I’m shootin’,” I said.

“And why,” Cato said.

All three of us looked at him. It was always surprising when Cato spoke.

“Right,” Rose said. “I mean, I ain’t gonna back-shoot nobody, or shoot no women or kids.”

“How ’bout that sodbuster got killed the other day?” Virgil said.

“No,” Rose said. “That was wrong. Me and Cato both think that was wrong.”

Cato nodded.

“You was working for Wolfson still, would you do it?” Virgil said.

Rose thought about it for a minute. He looked at Cato. Then he said, “No, neither one of us.”

Cato nodded briefly.

“Everett?” Virgil said.

I shook my head.

“Probably not.”

Virgil nodded.

We all drank a little more.

“What’s bothering you, Virgil?” Rose said. “You know what we are, what we do. What the hell are all these questions?”

Virgil shook his head and sipped another taste of whiskey.

“So you shoot who you want and not who you don’t want,” Virgil said.

“Yeah,” Rose said.

Cato nodded.

“Because you can,” he said.

“Pretty much,” Rose said.

He looked at me.

“You, Everett?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Virgil stared into his whiskey for a moment, then drank some.

“You think Swann feels that way?” he said.

“Naw,” Rose said.

“So how’s he decide?” Virgil said.

“He don’t,” Rose said. “He’ll shoot anybody he can get away with.”

“He likes it,” Cato said.

“And we don’t?” Virgil said.

Rose shrugged.

“Me and Cato don’t. I mean, we don’t mind. But it’s not a thrill or nothing.”

“So why do it?” Virgil said.

“Because we’re good at it, and it ain’t hard work,” Rose said. “’Cept if you get killed.”

Cato nodded.

“People always gonna kill other people,” Rose said. “Always gonna be fellas like us, that are good at it. And there’ll be fellas like Swann who are good at it, too.”

“So if you’re good with a gun,” Virgil said, “you can shoot people or not.”

“Uh-huh,” Rose said.

“And who decides?”

“Me,” Rose said.

Cato and I both nodded. Virgil stared further at his whiskey.

“Don’t seem the way it oughta be,” Virgil said.

“Don’t,” I said.

“But it is,” Virgil said.

“Ain’t much else,” I said.

61.

Some men behind a stone outcropping drew down on us with Winchesters as Virgil and I rode up to the lumber camp.

“Name’s Virgil Cole,” Virgil said. “Tell Stark me ’n Hitch come to talk with him and Redmond.”

There was some scurrying around through the woods while we sat our horses, and after a time we got to go ride in. It was an odd-looking lumber camp. Tents pitched. Cook fires going. Children scrambling around. Women doing laundry. Stark and Redmond were on the steps of the lumber shack.

“’Fore you get off them horses,” Stark said, “I want to know why you’re here.”

“We was thinking we might give you a hand,” Virgil said.

“With what?”

“Wolfson.”

Stark looked at us for a moment.

“You and Hitch?” he said to Virgil.

“Me ’n Everett,” Virgil said. “Cato and Rose.”

Stark and Redmond were silent for a moment.

Then Stark said, “You four?”

“Yep.”

“Why?” Redmond said.

He was looking hard at Virgil.

“Seems like a good idea,” Virgil said.

“That’s all?” Redmond said.

“Either we climb down and talk about this,” Virgil said, “or we turn around and ride back out. “

“Climb down,” Stark said. “We’ll sit outside. It’s a little close inside.”

We sat on the front steps of the lumber shack.

“Lujack and Swann and their people rode out and killed one of your people,” Virgil said.

“Ty Harrison,” Redmond said. “A fine man.”

“Sure,” Virgil said. “You folks gonna stick it out?”

“We ain’t running,” Redmond said.

“Next sodbuster starts to rebuild, same thing’s going to happen,” I said.

“Next time, we’ll go in force,” Redmond said.

Virgil ignored him. He looked at Stark.

“What do you say, Stark?”

“Lujack and his people,” Stark said. “They’re good.”

“Yes,” Virgil said.

“Good as you?”

“Probably not,” Virgil said. “But there’s a passel of them.”

“You have a plan?” Stark said.

“Not yet,” Virgil said.

“What do you think of Redmond’s plan?” Stark said.

“They’ll get slaughtered,” Virgil said.

Stark nodded his head slowly, and kept nodding as he spoke.

“Yes,” Stark said.

“You think we’re afraid?” Redmond said.

Virgil looked at him and at me. I nodded.

“How many of your people have ever killed anybody?” I said.

“I don’t know,” Redmond said. “But we ain’t backing down.”

“Do you know anybody who ain’t backing down who’s ever killed anybody?” I said.

Redmond frowned at me. Then he shrugged.

“No,” he said.

“Gunfight ain’t like other things,” Virgil said.

“Lujack’s people are professionals,” I said. “You’ll get buried.”

“He ain’t gonna run us off,” Redmond said.

Both fists were clenched in his lap. His face was red.

“Hell he ain’t,” Virgil said.

Redmond stood.

“You calling me a coward?” he said to Virgil.

Virgil looked at him as if he were an odd specimen of insect Virgil hadn’t seen before.

“At the moment,” Virgil said, “I’m calling you a fool.”

“I’ll fight you,” Redmond said. “Goddamn it, I will.”

“Bob,” Stark said, “shut the fuck up.”

“I ain’t scared of him,” Redmond said.

“Should be,” Stark said, in a voice that would have cut through shale. “Now sit fucking down and shut fucking up. These people are trying to help you.”

“We don’t need it,” Redmond said.

But he sat down.

“We could all go down, lumberjacks, us, everybody,” he said. “There’d be like fifty of us.”

“And leave who,” I said, “looking out for the women and children?”

“They wouldn’t…” Redmond said.

“’Course they would,” Virgil said.

Redmond started to speak, and stopped and started again and stopped.

“Jesus,” he said finally.

“Finally,” Stark said to him, “do you get it? You know what you’re dealing with?”

Redmond nodded silently.

“You’ll help us,” Stark said to Virgil.

“If you’re going to stay with it,” Virgil said. “If you ain’t, me ’n Everett will ride off down to Texas.”

“You’d run from Wolfson?” Redmond said.

“Got no reason not to,” Virgil said. “’Less you folks are gonna stay and fight.”

“We are,” Redmond said softly. “We got no place else to go.”

“Stark?” Virgil said.

“I’ll be here,” Stark said. “I’m not gonna ask my boys to go up against professional shooters. But there’s enough of us, I think, to keep them out of here.”

“Got enough food?” I said.

“For now,” Stark said. “Shot an elk couple days ago. That’ll help.”

“Wolfson ain’t gonna sell you none,” I said.

“Nope.”

“Any come in on the lumber train?”