“Hell, if you think I’m going to teach you…Get a woman to show you what pleasures her, same as I did.”
Slade’s response to any subject that made him uncomfortable was to simply walk away from it. He did that now, getting up to move back over by the horses, calling to the gray mare he favored, leaving Billy facing the wide expanse of his back.
Billy couldn’t resist a last taunt. “Hell, you’re worried about your first time?”
“Only that the woman will know.”
Billy had to strain to catch the words. He understood. He vividly remembered how he’d felt the first time.
“Shoot, you can always wait a few more years. After all, you don’t know what you’re missing yet,” Billy offered. “Or better yet, get the lady drunk, and she won’t remember a thing.”
Slade turned to meet Billy’s dark eyes, and Billy grew uncomfortable. Slade was better than an Apache sometimes when it came to controlling his features. It would make anybody nervous. His expression now revealed absolutely nothing of his inner thoughts, but Billy knew from experience that he could be masking a killing fury or total boredom. There was no way of knowing which. And even though they were friends, when Slade turned that certain look on him, the hairs crawled on the back of Billy’s neck.
“Well, dammitall, I don’t know how we got on this subject, anyway,” Billy said gruffly, and turned away from those light green eyes. “Seems to me we ought to be discussing what you aim to do with these horses. If you’re leaving in the morning, well…”
Slade’s gaze moved over the thirty-odd mares. He’d captured most of them in the last three years, a slow process of tracking a stallion’s harem, living with them day after day, blending with the land, becoming nearly invisible, and finally singling out one and stalking it. He’d long ago learned not even to try for the stallion, and he had to wait until the male was otherwise occupied before he approached a female. But it was an enjoyable task, even though it required patience, patience Billy had helped teach him, patience that came naturally after three years.
“They’re yours now, Billy,” Slade said.
Billy’s eyes widened. “Damn it! Damn it! I knew you just went on the raid last week to please me. I knew it!”
“Nonsense,” Slade scoffed. “I enjoyed the challenge of taking that rancher’s stock right from under his nose. His spread was big enough that he won’t miss them. And I hadn’t been that far east in a good many years. It gave me a chance to see what new towns were springing up. And it gave me an adventure to remember for when I become…civilized.”
“But all of them, Slade?” Billy protested. “You can use the money they’ll bring.”
“I have enough money for what I have to do.”
Billy didn’t express his thanks except with a nod of acceptance. “So where will you begin your search?”
“Where it began.”
“You really think Sloan will still be in Tucson? Hell, that’s the territorial capital. Characters like Sloan don’t find it easy in big towns anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Slade said offhandedly. “There or somewhere else, if he’s still alive, I’ll find him.”
“And after you kill him?”
“I’ll have the name of the man who hired him.” There was a cold edge in his voice now.
“And after you kill that one?”
Slade turned away before answering. “I’ll then be free to find my brother.”
Billy changed the subject quickly. “What about your father’s gold?”
“What about it?”
“It’s still there, ain’t it? You said your father and his partner rigged it so there was a worthless mine visible to anyone who wanted to look while the real mine was hidden up the mountainside where no one could find it.”
A rare show of anger crossed Slade’s handsome features. “That gold killed my father, separated me from my twin, and forced me to live like a wild animal. I want no part of it.” Then he said, “What good are riches, anyway? The land offers all a man could want.”
Billy grunted, deciding not to point out that Slade was thinking like an Indian. Was that a good thing or not?
Billy Wolf looked hard at the young man he loved like a brother. “Well, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me.” Then he grinned, trying to make light of the moment. “I’ll be the rich scout with the pretty wife—it shouldn’t tax you too hard to find me. I just hope I don’t run into your large cougar friend any time you’re not around.”
Slade laughed.
By early evening the Whiskers Saloon was crowded. It looked no different from all the other saloons Slade had walked into during the last year. By now he was immune to the reaction his appearance caused. Everything always quieted down until he ordered his first drink. Men sometimes moved away from him. Once it had been his quiet manner that made people wary. Now it was the savage look about him.
