“I come in answer to her ad.”
“Here?” Roman blasted. “In a restaurant? The ad says to go to room nine in the hotel. Can’t you read?” He stuffed his hand into the pocket of his trousers, thus revealing one gleaming Colt.
The man looked at the gun, then laid his hand over his own. He lowered his eyes down to Theodosia. “I’m tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, and smart.”
“Yeah?” Roman challenged. “What’s nine hundred and fifty-seven times three hundred and twenty-six?”
The man scowled. “I need paper to figure that out.”
“Then you fail the interview,” Roman announced.
“You ain’t the one who posted the ad.”
In answer, Roman drew his gun and cocked it. “No, but I’m the one pointing this Colt at you.”
“Roman, please,” Theodosia said, then turned her face up to the man. “Sir, I’m afraid you are not qualified. Thank you for your interest, though.”
Roman didn’t sit back down until the man had left the table.
“What’s the answer, Roman?”
“Answer to what?”
“What does nine hundred and fifty-seven times three hundred and twenty-six equal?”
“Damned if I know, damned if I care, and dammit, here comes another one!”
“Good evening,” a short, stocky man said as he arrived at the table.
“For the love of God,” Roman muttered. Once again, he stood, his Colt steady in his hand. “Get the hell away from the lady. Can’t you see she’s trying to get some supper? Besides that, you’re short!”
“I beg your pardon?” the man asked.
Roman stared at the man’s clothing. It was all black, except for the stiff white collar of his shirt. Gritting his teeth, he replaced his revolver in his belt and sat back down.
“I am Reverend Sommers,” the man said. “You, sir, look a bit familiar to me, but I don’t believe I have ever seenyouhere in Red Wolf, miss. I assume you are visiting, and I wanted to invite you to Sunday services.”
Theodosia gifted the minister with a brilliant smile. “How do you do, Reverend? I am—”
“She’s Irma,” Roman blurted, and gave Theodosia a look of warning. “Irma Sue Montana. And I’m Roman Montana.”
“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Montana, I hope to see you on Sunday. Enjoy your meal.”
When the minister left, Roman glowered at Theodosia. “Are you crazy? You were about to tell him your name!”
“And how does that make me deranged?”
“For God’s sake, you’reTheodosia Worth,the woman who posted the fliers! You’d have shocked him right out of his collar!”
“Shocking him would have been better than killing him, which is what you almost did. Honestly, Roman, what is the matter with you tonight? You are as agitated as I have ever seen you.”
He was saved from having to answer when the waitress brought their meals. Roman had ordered so much food, a second table was necessary to hold it.
But before he could take the first bite, he saw two men standing in the corner across the room.
Both held Theodosia’s fliers, and both were watching her. In the next moment, both began ambling toward her.
Roman had had all he could take. He stood and quickly gathered all the fried chicken, bread, corn, fruit, and cake into napkins.
