"Thanks," Ty said, shoving away the empty pot.
"Smoke?"
Ty shook his head. "Gave it up the night I saw a man get killed lighting a pipe when he should have been holding still and looking out for enemies."
Ned grinned, revealing teeth about the color the beans had been. "Yep, war can be hard on a man. Worse 'n rob-bin' banks or rustlin'."
The oblique question about his past was ignored by Ty.
"Don't mean to jaw your arm off," Ned said quickly, "but it's been no thin' but me and Johnny for two weeks now. Rest of 'em went to the fort. Old Cascabel's got 'em pissin' their britches. Hear tell he killed two white men a week ago."
"I wouldn't know about that. I've been too busy hiding and healing. Did Blue Wolf say when he'd be back here?"
Ned opened a stone jug and thumped it onto the table. "Don't know as he's comin' back. I told him you'd been took by Cascabel. He said you wouldn't stay took. Left a poke of gold for you over to the fort. Said you'd be needful of it when you got shuck of Cascabel. From the look of you, he was right."
"Did he say where he was going?"
"He was meetin' up with your brothers north of here. Looking for gold." Ned grunted. "Probably'll find it, too, if'n Black Hawk don't lift their hair first."
"With Wolf on scout, no one will even know they're around." Ty paused, then added casually, "When my brothers come back here looking for me-and they will-tell them I headed for Mexico. I'm going to finish healing up in some sehorita 's bed/'
Ned's smile was as crooked as a dog's hind leg as he absorbed Ty's gentle message: Ty might be naked and alone, but if he were killed his brothers would come hunting for the killer. So Ned poured cloudy liquid from the jar into a dirty tin cup and put it in front of Ty.
"Drink up."
"If it's all the same, I'd rather have water," Ty said. "My daddy always told me not to mix liquor with an empty stomach or a knot on the head."
Ned chuckled, picked up the cup and drained it. His harshly expelled breath made Ty glad there wasn't an open flame nearby. Sure as hell, the alcohol on Ned's breath would have caught fire and burned down the saloon.
"Damn, but that's good 'shine," Ned said, wiping water from his eyes. "A man couldn't get from dawn to dusk without it."
Ty could have gotten from birth to death without moonshine, but he said nothing. He had known a lot like Ned, men for whom the savage bite of homemade liquor was the sole joy of life. With outward patience, Ty waited while Ned's hands stroked the cold curves of the stone jar, lifted it and shook it to gauge the amount of liquor left within.
"You say you and the boy are the only ones left in Sweetwater?" Ty asked after a few moments.
Ned poured another half cup of pale liquid, belched and sat down opposite Ty. Though it was daytime, the interior of the saloon was gloomy. If there had ever been glass windows in the slanting walls, the panes had long since been replaced by oiled paper.
"Yep. Just me and that useless whelp. He's so scared he's gonna run off first time I turn my back." Ned took another swig of liquor, shuddered deliriously and sighed. "And Joe Tyoon. That sidewinder ain't never far off. Used to keep a Mex gal stashed somewhere off in the rimrock to the north, but she run off with Cascabel's renegades. Ol' Troon's real lonely these days, less'n he caught that bruja again."
"What?"
"That red-haired gal the renegades call Sombra, cuz she leaves no more sign than a shadow. Lives with the mustangs, and she's a wild 'un just like them." Ned took another huge swallow, grimaced and sighed out the fumes. "Troon had her once a few years ago but she got away. Gals don't cotton much to Joe Troon. Mean as a spring bear, and that's gospel. Wish he'd kept her, though. I get right tired of squaws."
When Ty understood that the bruja under discussion was Janna, it was all he could do not to hurl himself over the table and hammer the half-drunk bartender into the floor.
"But now Troon's decided to make hisself rich off of that old black stud," Ned continued. "He took his rifle and went to Black Plateau. Gonna crease that stud bastard, break him and take his colts while every white man in the territory is too scared to butt in."
Ty grimaced. "Creasing is a chancy thing. A lot more horses are killed than caught that way."
"One mean stud more or less won't make no never mind in this world. If'n it was me, I'd kill the stud, grab the best colts and light a shuck clean out of the territory before the Army finds Cascabel and the whole shootin' match goes up in smoke."
Ty thought of Lucifer as he had last seen the stallion- ears pricked, neck arched, muscles gleaming and sliding beneath a shiny black hide. The thought of someone killing that much animal just to grab his colts made Ty both disgusted and angry. But he had no doubt that Troon would do just that, if he got to Lucifer first.
"Is the mercantile closed?" Ty asked, interrupting Ned's monologue.
"What? Oh, you mean the Preacher's store. Naw, he didn't close up when he went to the fort. Ain't no man would steal from him. Sooner steal from Satan hisself. Even the renegades leave the Preacher alone. Cunning as a coon and snake-mean into the bargain. Troon gave up on the red-haired gal after the Preacher told him to leave her be. See, she gave him a Bible once. So when you see her again, you tell her if s safe to come into Sweetwater. Troon won't bother her."
A cold breath of caution shivered over Ty's skin. The bartender was no more drunk than Ty was.
"Who?" Ty asked, scratching his beard.
"The red-haired gal."
"Don't know her. She live around here?"
Ned squinted at Ty with pale, watery eyes. "Nobody knows where she lives. 'Cept maybe you. She pulled your tail out of a mighty tight crack."
"Mister, the only crack my tail has been in lately was with CascabePs renegades, and I got shuck of them by running my feet to the bone, hiding in brush, drinking rainwater and eating snakes. Not a one of them had red hair."
Ned stared at Ty for a long time and then nodded slowly. "If that's the way you want it, mister, that's the way it is."
"Wanting has nothing to do with it," Ty drawled coolly, standing up. "I'm telling you the way it was. Thanks for the beans. I'm going over to the Preacher's store. I'll leave a list of what I take. He can get his payment out of the gold Blue Wolf left at the fort."
"I'll tell Preacher when I see him."
"You do that." Ty started for the door, feeling an acute need for fresh air, then realized he wasn't through with Ned yet. "I need to buy a horse."
"The Circle G has right fine horseflesh. Best in the territory. Course, if'n a man was to ride one out of the territory, he might run into a cowpoke what lost a horse just like it."
Ty smiled wryly as he got the message. "I'll settle for a town horse."
"Ain't none," Ned said succinctly. "Took 'em all to the fort."
"Where's the closest homestead that might have an animal to sell?"
"Ain't none left for a hundred miles, 'cept renegade camps and wherever that redheaded gal lives. But you don't know nothin' about her, so it don't help you none."
Ty shrugged. "I'll find a horse between here and Mexico. Thanks for the beans, Ned."
The door shut behind Ty, but he still felt Ned's narrow, calculating eyes boring into his naked back. It made Ty's spine itch and his palms ache for the cool feel of an army rifle.