Unbury Carol(40)

“I’d just been thinking of the man. I was telling Liliana how much he’s meant to me…”

He had a few listeners but none as keen as Smoke. The hired man sat alone at the bar, his elbows on the wood, and smiled as the small loudmouth paraded from table to table, drunkenly boasting of his encounter. Hardly any of the patrons believed Rinaldo, and those who did smiled politely. Smoke waited for another dip in interest, for the saloon to quiet, then signaled him over.

Rinaldo, happy for the willing audience, went to him quickly. “Do I know you?”

“Not…quite…yet. But I sure as pig-shit want to hear more of your story.”

“You appreciate James Moxie then?”

“Me? I sure do, I do. One of the classiest outlaws the Trail has ever known. You say you saw him today?”

Rinaldo put his right hand in the air. “Not only do I say it…but I swear it.”

“Is that right?”

Rinaldo smiled. He took the open stool beside Smoke. “I actually helped him a great deal.”

“Is that so? And what would a legend need from a man such as yourself?”

Rinaldo smiled, proud. “I did nothing less than tell him he was in danger.”

“Fascinating.”

Smoke ordered a beer for Rinaldo. Water for himself. “Tell me more. What was James Moxie like?”

Rinaldo’s eyes widened. “James Moxie is a generous man.”

“How so?”

“He didn’t have to honor me by speaking with me, but that’s just what he did.”

“He stopped and carried on a whole conversation with you?”

“I had real information for him.”

“Like what?”

Rinaldo considered. “I’m not so sure I should tell you that much, stranger.”

The two men sipped their drinks.

“Well, I sure wish I’d had a chance to see him,” Smoke said, shaking his head for the missed opportunity. “When’d you see him?”

“This after!”

“What time?”

Rinaldo considered. “Three hours past. A few minutes less.”

Smoke exaggeratedly snapped his fingers. Just missed him.

Rinaldo leaned forward, wobbled, and almost fell off the stool. “I’ll tell you a secret, sir. I’ll tell you something very special to me.”

Smoke set his water upon the bar and waited.

“I was there,” Rinaldo whispered, loud. “In Abberstown.”

“Really…”

“Yes. Indeed I was. I’m old enough to have been working at the time.”

Smoke placed a hand upon Rinaldo’s wrist. “Describe it for me.”

Rinaldo was very willing to talk. “Just two men, sir, facing each other on Dunkle Street. James Moxie stood on one side, Daniel Prouds the other. Draw was called. A single shot was fired. Prouds’s chest blew open. But James Moxie never drew. I watched him close. And I wasn’t the only one. He did not draw.”

Smoke feigned disbelief. “Impossible.”

“Some say so. But those some are wrong.”

“What was the Trick?”

“I don’t know.”

“Surely you’ve got a theory.”

“I do.”

“And surely you asked. Today…”

“I did.”

“But he didn’t tell you, did he.”

“No. He did not.”

“What’s your theory, then?”

Rinaldo breathed deep. “His magic…is real.”

“I see.”

Rinaldo looked to the other patrons then back to the stranger beside him. By the time Smoke’s face was in focus again, Rinaldo started, for the friendly demeanor was gone. And in its stead was a seriousness Rinaldo did not like.

“Why don’t you just tell me what you told him today.”

Rinaldo, blurry, attempted to end the conversation. “The important thing is—”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you told him today.”

Rinaldo quickly took a sip of his beer. He knew bad men. He’d run letters for bad men for many years. There was a lack of depth in the eyes of bad men, as if they observed the world from well within their head, far from being able to feel for others.

Smoke’s face lit up with a smile. The friendliness was back.

“Well, it would sure make for a better story,” Smoke said. “You see, James Moxie has always been something of a hero of mine. That man Prouds you mention was none other than the brother of a man who’d done awful things to my family and me. This is the true and truly. I’ve long meant to travel to Mackatoon and thank the outlaw myself.”

Rinaldo smiled. Smoke, it seemed, had spoken magic words. A fellow Moxie enthusiast, indeed.

“You know he lives in Mackatoon, then.”

“But of course.”

Rinaldo looked around to make certain no one else could hear.

“Not many people do. That’s where they sent the assassin, you see.”

“The assassin?”

“Yes. There is a bad man after our friend Moxie. A man with a black heart and broken legs.”

“I see.” Smoke sipped his water. “And that’s what you done told him today. That he’s got a triggerman on his trail.”