“Huh. Well, that’s something at least. Are you going to have enough for guests?”
“I would have to know how many guests.”
“How many potatoes you got in there?”
“Six.”
Gideon nodded, satisfied. “I reckon that’ll do us fine.” He wandered over to the window and looked out. “You being so accommodating and all, I figure you remember bumpin’ into me in Bitter Springs.”
“I do.”
“You know who I am?”
“Gideon Welling.”
He looked over at her, a narrow smile creasing his face between his mustache and his new growth of beard. “So you figured it out. I’ll be damned.”
“Most likely.”
Gideon’s eyes sharpened momentarily, then he chuckled. “Yeah. Most likely.” He pointed to the cookbook. “What are you making with those potatoes?”
“Eggs Susette.”
He whistled softly. “Eggs Susette. I don’t believe I’ve ever tasted the like before.”
“I’ve never made them before.”
“I suppose this is in the nature of an experiment. No harm in that. I always think it’s good to try something new. Like comin’ here. This is new.” He looked out the window again.
Jane merely stared at his profile.
“Where is Morgan?”
“Around and about.”
“See? Now that’s an unacceptable answer. I’d hoped for better since we are getting along so well.” He stood back from the sink and began to unbutton his coat. He casually parted it to reveal his gun belt and the weapon riding low on his hip.
“Is that a Remington .44-caliber?”
“It is.”
“The Model 1858 or the 1875?”
“Jesus. Do you have ice water in your veins? Either one will shoot you dead.”
“Mr. Welling, my blood has been running cold since you waylaid me on my own back porch. You made a point of showing me your gun so I thought you meant for me to remark on it.”
“Lord, help me. It’s the Model 1875.”
“Do you carry an extra cylinder or find that you can reload as fast without exchanging it?” Even from her current angle, Jane could see that Gideon’s dark eyebrows were rising toward his hairline. He did not answer her question, though. Instead he pointed toward the window.
“Here they come,” he said. “And none too soon to my way of thinking.” He went to the door and opened it. “Stay where you are, Mrs. Longstreet. There’s no cause for you to be jumpin’ up like someone lit a fire under you.”
Jane sat, but she did so slowly and with what she regarded as a certain air of dignity.
“About time,” Gideon said.
Jane pressed down hard on her lips to keep from crying out when she saw Max. He was standing, but only just. The men on either side of him were more responsible for holding him upright than he was. The tender flesh all around his left eye was badly swollen. If he had any vision there, he would not have it much longer. Blood still oozed from a split lip. His jaw sagged oddly to the left, and Jane wondered if it was broken. She knew the moment he saw her because he made an effort to stand taller. She shook head, and her eyes pleaded with him not to do anything that would make his situation even worse.
