Wilder smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Funny. We ain’t hiring.”
“Then maybe I got bad directions.” Blaze shrugged. “Could be I’ll just move along.”
“No need to hurry.” Wilder took a few steps, circling him. “Ain’t often strangers find this place. Must’ve wandered far to get here.”
“Been ridin’ a while,” Blaze said.
“From where?” he asked.
“South.”
“That so?” Wilder’s voice was soft, almost kind. “Ain’t many decent men come north from there these days. Not since Red Rock went quiet.”
Blaze’s pulse jumped, but he kept his face still. “Don’t know much about Red Rock.”
Wilder smiled again, teeth bright under the lantern light. “No? Word was there was some trouble there. Outlaws running wild. Men getting shot down. Bad business.”
“Can’t say I heard,” Blaze replied.
“Mm.” Wilder studied him, eyes narrowing. “You look like a man who’s seen bad business.”
Blaze chuckled low. “Ain’t we all?”
The air between them hung heavy. One of the Riders shifted his grip on his rifle. Another scratched his neck. Wilder’s gaze never wavered.
“Tell me, Boone,” he said at last, “what kind of work do you do?”
“Whatever’s needed,” Blaze replied.
“Ever handle a gun?”
“Only when I got to.”
“That a fact?” Wilder’s smile thinned. “I could use men who ‘only handle guns when they got to.’ Honest types. Quiet. But see, I like to know who I’m dealing with. So why don’t you take off that hat?”
Blaze hesitated a second too long. Then he lifted it off, brushing the brim with his thumb. His hair fell in dusty strands across his brow.
Wilder’s eyes flicked. Not recognition yet, but suspicion. “You sure I don’t know you?”
“Don’t reckon so.” Blaze shrugged.
Wilder circled again, hands clasped behind his back. “Maybe not. Still, you got a way about you. Standing straight when you should be bending. Talking like you ain’t afraid.”
“Fear’s a waste of time,” Blaze said lightly.
That drew a laugh from one of the men. Wilder didn’t smile. “You got a mouth on you,” he said. “Could be that’s gonna get you hurt someday.”
“Maybe. But I ain’t lookin’ for hurt. Just money.”
Wilder stopped circling. He stared hard, eyes tracing Blaze’s face, the coat, and the way his hand rested near his belt but never strayed too close to his holster.
“Where’d you get that coat?” he asked suddenly.
Blaze blinked. “Traded for it.”
“Looks familiar. Like one I had seen before.” Wilder’s voice dropped low. “You sure you’re from Silver Bend?”
“Sure as I can be,” Blaze replied.
