Jem nursed his hand and regarded them all with a wounded expression. “I’m attendin’. I do it better with food than without it. Anyway, I guess I got it figured out that this fella doesn’t really know the boss, probably wasn’t at the reception, and has no proper manners. Makes me think that him comin’ upon Mrs. Longstreet like that wasn’t an accident. Like maybe he was followin’ her, lookin’ to make her acquaintance.” He sharpened his gaze when he came around to Morgan. “That sound about right?”
“It does.”
Jane looked from Morgan to Jem and back again. “Not a chance meeting? You are drawing a conclusion with very little to support it. He said he saw us earlier, coming out of the bank, which is neither here nor there, but it does speak to the dull nature of our conversation. He does know you, Morgan. He told me that he called out to you as you were going into the Pennyroyal.”
“I didn’t hear anyone.”
“That’s what he said. You didn’t hear him. He did know that you were at the hotel, though, because when I started to go toward the hardware store, he redirected me.”
Jake said, “Maybe if you were to describe him, ma’am, it’d help one of us place him.”
“I think I may have given you a poor impression of him. True, he did not return my parcel immediately, but that was because he offered to carry it for me. I told him I was meeting you, Morgan.”
“I’d still like to know who he is,” said Morgan. “Humor me. Please.” He used those words quite deliberately, and they provoked the pale pink flush coloring Jane’s cheeks. Out of sight of his men, she pinched him. He grinned and bore it.
“Very well,” she said, looking around the table. “He is older than Morgan, but not yet forty. At least I do not think so. In height and build, he is similar to Max.”
“A runt, then,” said Jem.
“Deceptively strong,” said Max, tapping his muscled bicep.
Jane ignored them both. “His coloring could make him another Davis brother. I’m remembering thick brown hair when he tipped his hat. I think his eyes, though, were brown, not blue, and he had a mustache, very dark, heavy, but neatly trimmed. His face was narrow. I would say he had sharp features.”
“A weasel,” said Jem.
“No. That is an unkind comparison, and one might infer from it that there is some shifty aspect to his character. He should be judged on his behavior, not on the cast of his features. He is not as pretty as you, Jem, but he is not unhandsome.”
Heat blossomed in Jem’s cheeks. He ducked his head, but no one at the table thought he wasn’t pleased by the compliment.
Jane said, “He was dressed like any of you going into town on ranch business. That is to say he was not dressed like Mr. Webb at the Cattlemen’s Trust or Buster Johnson at the mercantile.” She turned over her hands and shrugged. “I don’t think there is anything else I can tell you.”
Jessop said, “I guess that describes just about anyone we know. I had a picture of Charlie Patterson in my mind.”
Jake nodded. “I was thinking that it sounded a lot like Ansell Roach over at the Bar G.”
Max fiddled with his fork. “Wes Duffy. He’s in and out of town regular on errands for the Stapletons.”
Jem shook his head. “I got nobody. You, boss?”
“Nothing.”
Jane removed herself from her husband’s lap and this time he let her go. “Perhaps I will see him the next time I am in Bitter Springs. You can be certain that I will point him out or get his name if you are not there.”
“Oh, I’ll be there,” said Morgan. “You’re bread. I’m butter.”
“Uh-huh.” She reached for the platter of bacon and eggs. “Pass your plates, men. Let’s have breakfast.”
Gideon Welling folded his cards and tossed them toward the middle of the table. “I’m out.” He looked toward the saloon’s front window and set his jaw as the snow continued to fly. “Goddamn weather.”
Marcie absently scratched his scar with a knuckle. His attention was for his hand and the bid, not the snow. “Guess this means we wait.”
Gideon mocked him, repeating the words but not the tone. “Guess this means we wait.” His chair scraped the floor as he pushed it back. It made enough noise to attract the attention of the men drinking at the next table. “I guess it damn well does.” Gideon shot a feral glance at the onlookers. “Nothing interesting this way, fellas. I suggest you give us no never mind.”
Dixon Evers chuckled under his breath as the other men turned away. “Two cards.” He tossed off two and collected a pair from Avery. “Shame about the snow kickin’ up again, but I don’t mind sayin’ that I’m glad we didn’t move too fast. Better to still be in Rawlins than back on the range, sittin’ around a fire with a saddle for a pillow.”
“I don’t reckon you’re wrong, Dix,” said Gideon. “And it pains me enormously to admit it.”
Grinning crookedly, Dixon threw in a couple of chips. “Did you consider takin’ her right off the street when you had the chance?”
