The morning flew by, with customers in and out, tracking down a fellow whose horse had thrown a shoe, buying vegetables from the hotel stables because his own order had been delayed, and fixing one of the wheels on the wagon just in time for the men finishing up a couple of houses to rent it for the day, along with the numerous other tasks and responsibilities that came with caring for horses and running a business. As soon as he could afford it, Roman determined he’d hire someone else. Most days, it was almost too much work for just him and Jeremiah. Occasionally, a man down on his luck but needing to stable his horse would offer to work in exchange, but it had been a solid two weeks since they’d had that sort of help.
When his grumbling stomach caused him to pull out his pocket watch, Roman discovered he was supposed to meet Miss Brown in five minutes. He’d be late again.
He let out a frustrated sigh and walked quickly back to wash up and change into something that didn’t smell of straw and manure. She’d been forgiving of his misstep yesterday. He could only hope that she’d do the same today.
Roman stepped out of the livery ten minutes later, halfway convinced Miss Brown would demand to return to Virginia. Surely there were any number of men there who could keep their word and meet her at the time they’d promised. He passed the depot, nodding at young Christopher Rennet, who assisted Thomason with running telegrams about town and selling tickets to Denver and Santa Fe. Just as he passed the church, someone called his name.
Roman turned and spotted Marshal Wright.
“Glad I caught you,” Wright said as he approached.
Roman paused, torn between wishing he could turn back the hands of the clock and wanting to hear what Wright had to tell him.
“I spoke with Turley.”
“I’m surprised he wasn’t still abed,” Roman replied, his curiosity growing. Wright wouldn’t have chased him down if he had nothing of note to share.
“Oh, he was,” Wright said with a slight smile. “Anyhow, I got it out of him that someone slipped him some coins if he’d go knock on the livery door and ask for a horse.”
Roman frowned. That could only mean one thing . . .
“Someone set the fool up,” the marshal continued. “And stole off with your horse.”
“I don’t suppose he knew who the man was?”
Wright shook his head. “Couldn’t tell me what he looked like either. Which is likely why the thief asked a drunk man to lure Wiley away from the livery.”
The marshal bid Roman good afternoon and said he’d keep an eye out for the missing horse. Roman watched him disappear back down the road, the news still on his mind. It was pure dumb luck that Turley had found Jeremiah already awake. If he’d knocked, Roman likely would’ve woken too. And if he had, perhaps he’d have heard the horse thief.
It was over and done with now. It was unlikely he’d ever see Alliance again. So long as the man left town, he could at least hope word wouldn’t get out and lead other ill-intentioned men to attempt to help themselves to horses too.
He couldn’t dwell on it now, not when he was an embarrassing twenty minutes late to meet Miss Brown. What an impression he was making.
He’d be lucky if she hadn’t already purchased a ticket home.
Chapter Six
