“Brave’s cheap,” Kane said. “Cunning’s where the coin’s at.”
They stood a long moment in that thin light as the alley breathed around them. From within the saloon came a muffled tune and the clink of glass. Somewhere a dog started and stopped barking.
“You sure you want to get involved with Wilder?” Caleb asked at last.
“Tell him I’ve got a lead,” Kane replied. “Tell him I’ll bring Rachel to him for the right price. Tell him I want half up front as proof I’m not a liar.”
Mangrove barked a short laugh. “Half? You want half before you give the girl over?”
“I want half, so I don’t walk into his jaws blind,” Kane said. “I want baggage to cover my debts. I want to be able to leave this town if it goes wrong.”
Caleb ran a finger along his lip. “Risky.”
“Everything good is,” Kane said. “And look...I ain’t nobility. I ain’t built like Wilder. I can’t go pryin’ open tombs. But I can trade on the tastes of men. I can whisper things into ears. I can make sure the right rumor reaches the right ears. I can be useful.”
“You sure you’re not just useful to yourself?” Mangrove said.
Kane lifted his chin, proud as a man with a ledger and a secret.
“Isn’t that the point of livin’?” he asked.
Caleb spat again. “We tell Wilder. If he bites, we see what you ask for.”
“And if he don’t?” Mangrove asked.
“Then I do what I always do,” Kane said. “I survive. I find another door.”
Caleb pushed off from the wall.
“Tomorrow night, same place,” he said. “If you show nothin’, we burn your ledger and sell your horse.”
Kane laughed. It was a small, sharp sound that lacked the warmth he once used to charm tradesmen.
“Then I’ll bring more than talk, boys,” he replied. “I’ll bring her.”
They melted into the black like shadows with too many knives. Kane watched their backs until the darkness swallowedthem and then took one slow breath. He slid his hands into his pockets, feeling the reassuring weight of the brass buttons on his coat.
He felt the tug of the ledger in the larder of his mind: debts, favors owed, the names he had written down, and the way men listened when their own names appeared on his page.
“Pretty little world,” he said to the empty air, then smiled thinly. “You can be bought if you know where to press.”
He moved back toward the saloon door, each step measured. His footsteps echoed off the closed shutters.
A stray cat darted from a barrel, and Kane paused, watching it go. The night around the church window flickered with candlelight. It was one small diamond of stillness in a town that had grown wary.
Chapter 27
“Can’t sleep?”
Rachel turned at the sound of Mrs. Albright’s voice drifting up from below. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. She had been awake for a while. Her pacing must have made enough noise to rouse the older woman.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Rachel said. Her voice was soft and roughened by exhaustion.
“You didn’t.” Mrs. Albright’s footsteps creaked on the stairs. “Truth is, I haven’t slept much myself. Nights like these make a woman listen for things she don’t want to hear.”
Rachel sat on the edge of the loft with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The candles had long since burned low, and the church was lit only by moonlight slipping through the high windows.
“I keep hearin’ boots,” Rachel said. “Out there in the street. Every time I close my eyes, I think it’s him.”
