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And anyway, this reception, bad as it might otherwise seem, was nevertheless the warmest and most welcoming he’d yet had in Snowshoe. Hell, he probably ought to savor and enjoy it while he had the chance because from here on in things were likely to go downhill.

Chapter 15

When next the cabin door opened, Longarm might have thought he was in a completely different place from where he’d been just a few minutes earlier.

Instead of being scared and nervous, Mrs. Able was gracious and charming in her welcome. She’d taken time to light several lamps inside, and was carrying another. Moreover, she looked mighty nice too.

Longarm had no idea how she’d been dressed or what she’d looked like when he’d dragged her out of a sound sleep to come to the door, but now she looked elegant and lovely in a velvet dressing gown that had frilly wisps of ruffle showing daintily at throat and wrists.

Her hair had been loosened for sleeping, of course, and Longarm certainly did not mind it hanging thick and free like it was. Her hair was a dark rich red in color, which contrasted quite fetchingly with the deep blue of the dressing gown.

Her complexion was that creamy perfection that redheads are always supposed to have but seldom do.

Longarm judged that Mrs. Able was in her early thirties or thereabouts. And decidedly attractive. Lawyer Able was one helluva lucky man in his opinion.

“I apologize again for waking you, ma’am. It’s just that I considered it important.”

“Please come in, Marshal.” She showed him to an upholstered armchair next to a lamp and table. The cabin was divided into two rooms of roughly equal size. Longarm had no idea what was in the other, but the front room was

furnished as an office with a desk, storage cabinets, and several chairs arranged for conversation and reading. There was a sheet-metal heating stove at one end, but no sign of a cooking range or any sort of kitchenware. He guessed that the bedroom area must also double as the kitchen. Either that or the back part of the cabin had been cut into several tiny rooms instead of one room of serviceable size.

“A drink, Marshal?” She was standing close by, ready to provide the refreshment if he wished.

“No, thank you, ma’am. If you would just direct me to—”

“That shallow dish beside you is used as an ashtray if you care to smoke, Marshal. I don’t mind.”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you. Now if you’d just—”

“I believe you have a writ in your possession signed by Judge McFee?”

“Yes, ma’am, but—”

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