The Gunsmith 386 Read Free

my horse before I get a hotel room.”
    â€œI’ll find you,” Ingram promised.
    Clint nodded his thanks and left the office.
    Â â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢Â 
    When he got back to the vet’s, he started to walk to the front door, then decided to go around to the side instead. There was a window on the door, and he could see Andrea Martin inside, tending to Eclipse, who was standing calmly and—it seemed to Clint—leaning into her touch.
    He knocked on the door.
    Her head jerked in surprise, her eyes wide, then she saw him and relaxed. She walked to the door and unlocked it.
    â€œSorry if I startled you,” Clint said.
    â€œThat’s okay,” she said. “I was concentrating on your horse.”
    â€œHow’s he doing?”
    â€œThe wound wasn’t bad,” she said. “I’m glad you were careful, though, and walked him into town.”
    â€œI’d never take chances with him,” Clint assured her.
    She walked back to the horse and he followed. She’d obviously applied a poltice to the wound, packing it tightly.
    â€œWe’ll leave that on until tomorrow and then have a look,” she said.
    â€œSuits me,” Clint said. “I’ll be in town for a while anyway. I’ve got some business to attend to.”
    â€œFinding the men who tried to kill you?”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œWas the sheriff any help?”
    â€œHe was, actually.”
    â€œHmm,” was all she said.
    â€œHow long has he been sheriff here?”
    â€œAbout two years,” she said. “He’s serving his second term.”
    â€œWhat have you got against him?”
    â€œThat story is too long,” she said, “and I don’t know you well enough to tell you.”
    â€œWell, maybe you could get to know me better if you accompanied me to supper tonight?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” she said. “I have to stay here until my father comes back. But thank you for the offer.”
    She struck him as the type of woman who’d had some problems with men, maybe even been hurt—maybe recently by Sheriff Ingram, who was a handsome man.
    â€œWell,” he said, touching Eclipse’s nose, “I’ll go and get myself a hotel room, and then something to eat.”
    â€œTry the Harvest House Hotel,” she said.
    â€œThe sheriff said there wasn’t much difference between the hotels.”
    â€œHmm,” she said again, “well, the Harvest House has a very good dining room.”
    â€œThanks for the tip,” he said. “I’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone.”
    â€œCome by in the morning,” she said. “My father should be back by then, and he’ll take a look at Eclipse just to be sure I didn’t miss anything.”
    â€œI doubt you did,” he said, “but I appreciate the care.”
    She let him out, said good night, and locked the door behind him.

FIVE
    Clint checked into the Harvest House Hotel, found the room clean, the bed adequate. He left his saddlebags and rifle in the room and went down to the dining room.
    His steak and vegetables were well cooked, and the coffee was to his liking. Andrea Martin had steered him to the right hotel.
    He was starting in on a slice of apple pie when the sheriff appeared.
    â€œHave a seat, Sherriff,” Clint said. “Coffee?”
    â€œDon’t mind if I do,” the lawman said. He sat and poured a cup. “This hotel suit you?”
    â€œIt’s fine,” Clint said. “Actually, it was Miss Martin who sent me over here.”
    â€œAh,” Ingram said. “I don’t suppose she had anything good to say about me.”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, no.”
    Ingram winced.
    â€œShe say anything bad?”
    â€œNot really,” Clint said. “Didn’t have much to say, actually. But I get the feeling there’s . . . history there.”
    â€œThere is, but