Fifteen Western Tales, January 1953 — page 33: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE DEADLY SECOND _ 33 fidence—and hold it. As he turned his head, _ there was something commanding in the movement. Then he smiled, showing the white, even teeth she had always admired. The words they exchanged were routine, casual. Andrew was not a talkative man and she always tried to match his mood. — “How you feel, honey?” His voice, for such a big man, was not especially deep but it had a pleasant resonance that always - thrilled her. “Oh, ‘all right. Just fine. Try the green beans.” She held the bow! toward him. “We won't get many more unless it rains.” The beans had come from their own little garden patch, carefully tended in the backyard. ‘“They’re good!” he complimented, chew- ing. His eyes were watching her. She noticed he’d hardly taken his eyes from. her face since he’d entered the house. One o’clock! He, too, was probably thinking this might be all they’d ever have together—just one won- derful year. Yes, that was it. Why his eyes were on her so constantly. Like his eyes were memorizing her face. She realized then he’d stopped eating, was Just sitting there looking at her, quietly. He ‘started to say something, appeared to change his mind and picked up his fork again, han- dling it carefully because of his sore arm. _ “More steak?’” She pushed the plate to- ward him invitingly. smiling. “Then how about some hot coffee?” She refilled his cup carefully and set the pot back on the stove. She sat back down and toyed with her food, not eating, almost shuddering at the thought of food. She looked up and met his eyes again. There was love and kindness and a preat hunger in them . ... and sadness. “Andrew,” she choked. “What made you take the job as sheriff?” A flicker of something came over his face. Then it was gone and he was composed © again. But there was a strange darkness deep in his eyes. “Somebody had to. _ They thought I was the man.’ “But why you, Andrew? Weren't there ; other men?” He shifted uneasily in his chair. “Sure. Plenty of others. But most of ’em were too quick on the trigger or liked the bottle too well or... .” He paused and she saw that bleak expression she hated come into his He shook his head,, eyes, that look she couldn’t understand. She didn’t know how far she dared to go. In spite of the love between them there was something at times about Andrew that warned her not to go too far, not to tamper with man business. ; “This’ll be my last term,” .he said finally. “Think I might study law. Judge Musgrove has offered to loan me some of his books.” Mattie gave a little cry. “Oh, Andrew! I thiak that would be wonderful. Tl bet you'll make an awfully good lawyer.” “But in the meantime,” he went on, his voice suddenly flat and ‘toneless, “T'm the sheriff.” Mattie thought for a minute he’d tell her about Bob Dell and the showdown. But he didn’t. He didn’t ever talk about such things. And if one o’clock meant the end, he didn’t want to worry her about it ahead of time. Andrew was like that. They finished their meal and Andrew went to rest a few minutes in his big chair while he read a book. The chair faced the front door and through the front door the court- house clock was clearly visible. She saw him glance at the clock as he sat down and she looked too. The hands said seventeen min- utes until one. She stacked the dishes quickly, then joined him. She always waited until he’d left the house te do the dishes. She never tried, as SO many wives did, to impose on his mas- culine pride by wheedling him into drying them for her. She felt his few minutes at home during the noon hour meant too much to both of them to be wasted on such a tric vial task. And today, of all days, she wanted every second of his companionship. As she sat, eyes alternating from the dis- tant clock back to Andrew she took an em- broidery hoop in her hands and made list- less motions with a needle. She saw him glance up again, staring at the clock, then felt his gaze on her, felt the fierce intensity of it. She steeled herself to remain calm. | Then he was rising reluctantly to his feet. ‘Almost one. Gotta go, honey.” He stood there for a moment, flexing the stiff fingers of his right hand. She flew to him, suddenly wild. “Don’t go yet,” she begged. She felt him drawing away. “Don’t go,” she whispered. She put all the seduction and appeal at her command into her invitation. “Stay here with me. cComicboooks.c©