Chapter One
Deadwater,Wyoming, 1885
THE FOOL WOULD GET himself killed if he used agun.
Jake scowled at the dimenovel. Conversating as they were in the gunslinger’s boarding room,the gunslinger in his underclothes brandished a gun at the villain,which in a real live circumstance would result in ruin. Thegunslinger would be better served by a knife in his hand, ratherthan a pistol that could be wrested from him afore he blinkedtwice. However, the author had determined it was how his man shouldbehave, and if Jake knew better by possessing actual experience, itweren’t here nor there. Besides which, the author was all the wayin New York City, if the biography at the back was any indication.Jake wasn’t going to waste cash he didn’t have sending the man atelegram lambasting him for incorrect weaponry.
Raising his gaze from thepage and the ineptitude of his fictional equivalent, he surveyedthe saloon. The Silver Elephant was mostly empty, but that weren’tan unusual circumstance for the middle of the day. A few old-timerssat around a table, dealing cards and arguing over the outcome. Adisinterested barkeep polished the wood before him, his gazedrifting to the group of women holding their own table,half-clothed forms advertising their profession. By Jake’sreckoning, the barkeep was sweet on one of them, if the furtive,longing looks were any indication. The dark-haired woman wearing ateal dress one size too small would be Jake’s guess.
Exhaling, he leaned backin his chair. He’d been cooling his heels in Deadwater, Colorado,for nigh on a week now, with no sign of his promised employment. Hehad a mind to move on, but he had no job to move on to, so itweren’t here nor there if he remained in Deadwater a spell. He haduse of a room in the boarding house paid until next week, and aplace for quiet contemplation here in the Elephant. Maybe it washe’d take a break, watch the world pass him by for a day or two.Deadwater was a decent sort of town, big enough for distraction butsmall enough of contemplation, though the advance of fall wouldmean he’d be moving on before too much longer, before the beginningof winter and the heavy snows that would make leavingimpossible.
The doors to the saloonswung open and a woman walked through. There wasn’t anythingextraordinary about her. She was, in fact, completely unremarkable,in a dark grey dress that reminded him of armour, buttons marchingalmost to her chin and fabric covering her from there to toe. Itwas a fine dress, but it screamed of wealth, and she screamed ofthe sort of woman who would never step foot in a saloon of her ownvolition.
Her pace was calm,measured, and filled with purpose, as was her gaze as she cast itaround the saloon. The hair at the back of his neck stood up. Headangled so his hat obscured his eyes, Jake charted her clipped stepthrough the tables, as she stopped in the middle of the saloon, asshe cast her gaze about. As her gaze lit upon him.
She started toward him.He didn’t react, keeping his legs sprawled, his shoulders relaxedand his attention ostensibly on his novel.
“MrWade?”
Lazily, he raised hisgaze. Dull blonde hair pulled tight at the skin of her temples andgathered into a mean knot at the base of her head, whileemotionless colourless eyes regarded him from under light brows.Every part of her was pale, a sharp contrast to the warmth of theElephant. Her dress was even worse up close, a grey that on a womanwith some colour to her would be counted by some as attractive. Shelooked young, maybe a decade younger than him. No doubt a lifetimeof experience separated them—he’d fit a lot into his thirty-sixyears. Too much.
Pale eyes regarded himsteadily. “You are Jacob Wade?” Her voice was as colourless as therest of her, modulated with an accent that spoke of a fineeducation and a city, maybe an east coast one if his ears werepicking it right.
Novel dangling from hishand, he propped his elbow on the chair. He didn’t invite her tosit, and she didn’t seem inclined to accept even if he did. “Iam.”
Her expression didn’tchange, and neither did her tone. He had no clue if she werepleased, determined, or indifferent. “Mr Wade, I have a propositionfor you.”
Silence grew betweenthem, and she didn’t articulate her proposition, whatever it was.“Well, spit it out, darlin’. I’m a busy man. I ain’t got allday.”
Her lips tightened. “MrWade, I would like you to find me a man.”
Allowing a lazy grin tostretch his lips, he drawled, “Now, darlin’, I don’t offer thatkind of service. Why don’t you take yourself to a church dance orsome such and see if you can’t rope yourself a fella.”
“A particularman, Mr Wade.” Her tone had also tightened. “A man that needskilling.”
Any humour he’d enjoyedfled. “I don’t kill people,” he said flatly.
Her back became, ifpossible, even more rigid. “I don’t want you to kill him. I wantyou to find him. I can pay.”
“I’m sure youcan.” He raked his gaze over her. “That dress is worth more than myhorse.”
A kind of surprise lither features, but only for a moment. “Are you interested, MrWade?”
“Well now,let me think.” Rubbing his jaw, he enjoyed the indistinct play ofemotions across her face. He’d bet the fee on his next job shedidn’t show emotion often. “You can pay, you said.”
“Yes. Onethousand dollars now, and another three thousand when you find thisman.”
Christ Jesus.“That’s a hefty sum, darlin’.”
She watched him withthose colourless eyes and he was almost certain she knew hisreaction though he hadn’t twitched a muscle. “I really want to findthis man.”
Four thousand dollars.God above, the things he could do with such a sum. He couldpurchase that ranch he’d half-heartedly thought to purchase, settledown, maybe even find a good woman and produce a couple of kids.“Who’s this man that you say needs killing?”
“JosiahCallihan.”
Cold slid down his spine,and all a sudden he was seventeen again, reins wrapped painfullytight about his hands. Green undulated before him, his horseshifting as he tried to ignore the screams punctuated with gunshotsand cruel laughter.
Shaking himself, hepushed the memories away as he cast a glance around the saloon.None had taken any notice of their conversation, the old timerscontinuing their game and the barkeep continuing hismooning.
