The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,167

about that and I got you to thank for helpin’ get me outa’ that. I reckon I woulda’ just drunk myself to death if you hadn’t… if we didn’t, uh… well, you know.”

“Look, Eulis, don’t think I need you to take care of me,” she said. “If you want to strike out on your own then don’t let me stop you.” She pointed to the little town nestled down in the wide valley. “There’s a saloon down there and I’ve still got a few good years left in me. I might not like it, but it won’t kill me, and I won’t starve to death.”

Eulis saw the bravado on her face, but he also heard the desperation in her voice. Even though he wasn’t sure about pretending to be someone he was not, he knew he couldn’t let Letty slide back into her life of sin. Not when he’d preached her right out of that life and baptized her into redemption. It might have been in a horse trough, but it was a sincere baptism just the same.

“That ain’t gonna happen,” he said. “And I don’t want to stop preachin’ either. I reckon I was just a little bit nervous, but I’m feelin’ fine now. Besides, I’m sure ready for a bath of my own.”

The mule he was riding suddenly lifted its head and brayed.

He grinned.

“See. Even this old mule is ready for a little rest, so let’s go see what there is to see.”

The relief Letty felt was so startling that she had to look away to keep from letting him see her tears. She swiped a hand beneath her nose in lieu of a handkerchief, and got a strong whiff of herself all over again.

“Lead the way,” she said. “Me and this old hay burner won’t be far behind. Oh… and Eulis…”

“What?”

“Maybe it would be best if, when we get into town, you go on ahead into the hotel and get us some rooms. They might not let me in if they smelled me beforehand.”

Eulis grinned. “Good thinkin’, Sister Leticia.”

“Yep, that’s me. Always thinking ahead,” Letty muttered, and urged her blind mare forward as they began their descent into Dripping Springs.

Vinegar, Vanity, And Visions

It was Orville Smithson who first saw the strangers riding into town. One man on a mule. A woman on a blind mare. He knew the mare was blind because he could see the white film over the mare’s eyes from inside his shop. He frowned, wondering how that worked—riding into a strange place on a horse that couldn’t see?

The man was dusty and trail-weary, but the cut of his suit was fine, and the hat on his head was a Bowler, a style men out West didn’t much cotton to. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray and hung a few inches past the collar of his shirt. His face was ordinary, with less than a week’s worth of whiskers waiting to be shorn. The woman was some younger than the man. Her clothes were nothing to write home about, but she had a nice face, a voluptuous body, and a fine head of brown hair.

He laid down the straight-razor he’d been sharpening and walked out onto the sidewalk. He caught the scent of polecat as the couple passed by and wrinkled his nose as they rode straight to the rooming house. A cowboy ambled out of Grigg’s Saloon, mounted his horse and rode out of town as Henrietta Lewis walked out of the mercantile.

Orville waited for her to look his way so that he could wave, but she, too, had seen the strangers and was curiously watching as the man dismounted.

“Hey, Orville, I need a haircut.”

Orville turned around to see who had hailed him, then frowned. Harley Charles was coming up the sidewalk. It was the first time he’d seen him since Fannie had run him out of their house on all fours. He wasn’t certain how to behave toward a man who’d been humiliated in this respect, especially since it was his daughter who’d done the deed. But Harley didn’t seem all that bothered about their face-to-face, so Orville took his cue from Harley and waved him into the shop and set him down in the barber chair.

“Want a shave with that, too?” Orville asked, as he fastened the barber cape around Harley’s neck and tried not to look at the man’s swollen nose and black eyes.

Harley rubbed a hand on his jaw, testing it for soreness, and nodded an