Now she was nearing herthirty-third birthday, and she sought to rid Josiah Callihan fromthis world.
Seated on the edge of thebed, the hotel bed covers were soft under her clenched fingers, butit was the softness of too many washes. Mr Wade had chosen theiraccommodation, and she was certain it was better than the lodgingsto which he was accustomed. She had said nothing,however.
The journey fromDeadwater had tired her, but she’d kept her spine straight, herstep purposeful and her gaze forward. The train had pulled into thestation as the sun rose in the sky, and the grey light of earlymorning had followed them as they’d made their way to the hotel. Ather door, he’d tipped his hat to her, wished her a restful morning,and she’d watched his strong back as he’d disappeared into hisroom.
Though basic, her roomwas comfortable, the bed welcoming. Sinking onto the edge, she’dallowed her shoulders to slump. She was so tired, and yet shecouldn’t rest. She’d jumped when there was a rap on her door, andMr Wade’s voice informing her he was leaving to ‘get a head startafore the day broke too much’. That had been five hoursago.
She stared at the door.Unable to sleep even after the restless night in the privaterailroad car, she’d been out herself, to the telegraphic office andthe newspaper’s, and once that was done, she’d cabled her directionto her office in Sacramento. Work didn’t stop because she soughtvengeance, and if there was a need to contact her, her employeesnow could.
While she ran thetransport and logistics company she’d inherited upon her uncle’sdeath, she had no experience with hunting a criminal, though she’dalways known the name of the man who’d orchestrated the attack onher family. She closed her eyes. His sneering, gleeful grin wasburnt into her brain. He and his men had called each other by nameas they’d butchered her family, clearly having no intention ofleaving anyone alive.
She smiled bitterly.Lucky her that they’d only left her for dead.
It had taken little totrack Callihan over the years. He was a boastful sort, and heboasted to any who would listen. Newspapers wasted reams and reamson him, dime novelists recounted his exploits with breathlessabandon, and both had made it so his legend grew to the point wherehe was almost untouchable. No lawman had ever been able to holdhim, and he’d slipped the noose more times than any couldcount.
However, she would changethat. She only had need to find him, but she had no experience withtracking the man on the ground. That was better left to marshalsand gunslingers. Mr Wade was both.
He’d come highlyrecommended, and with knowledge of her prey few could boast. Hersecretary had obtained references from several of his previousclients and not a one had been dissatisfied with his work. All hadcited his dedication and work ethic, and above all, hispersistence…which was completely at odds with her own observations.Upon her arrival in Deadwater, she’d taken the time to acquaintherself with him. He’d barely left the saloon in the three daysbefore she’d approached him, a bottle of whiskey at hand while he’dplayed cards or read a book. She’d been heartened by the books—thathe’d chosen to pass time with words—but any goodwill had soured byhis complete dedication to inebriation once the sun slipped fromthe sky. However, she’d given him the benefit of the doubt andemployed his services, though he had refused at first. Thenewspaper advertisement had forced his hand, and she was moderatelypleased with the outcome.
She would have thought asa subordinate, he would report to her. So far he’d reportednothing, with no outline of what he hoped to achieve or how hewould achieve it. On the train she’d attempted to discern his plan,but he’d dodged and equivocated, and offered less than nothing. Sheknew only they were to travel to Cheyenne, which they’d achieved,she knew he had knocked on her door and claimed he would start hisinvestigation, but she had no idea of his methodology or his nextmovement. The uncertainty was…disquieting. Her days were usuallystructured, every minute accounted for. She had a mountain of tasksand precious little time, thus efficiency was key. Mr Wade, to hermind, was not interested in efficiency.
Hope balled her hands inher lap. She should trust his methods. She’d investigated himthoroughly, determined he was the best of her choices. There was noreason not to trust him. He had said he was gathering information,though it had been barely six of the clock when he’d knocked on herdoor and surely most miscreants would be abed, sleeping off theexcess of the previous evening.
She clenched her handstighter. She had to trust his methods. She convinced herself ofsuch for another ten minutes. Then she departed to find MrWade.
The concierge pointed herin the direction of a row of saloons, located in what was clearlythe more disreputable part of Cheyenne. Three saloons yielded notrace of Mr Wade, but through the window of the fourth she spiedhis lanky, now-familiar form, seated alone with a deck of cards anda bottle of whiskey.
White-hot, fury howledthrough her. Closing her eyes, she swallowed and imagined a sea,one she returned to often. Grass stood tall around her, brushingagainst her outstretched palms. Her toes curled into damp earth asa cool breeze bathed her face, carrying with it the faint sound oflaughter.
Familiar calm settledover her. She took one moment more and then opened her eyes. MrWade sat at a table, legs sprawled before him, hat pulled lowshadowing his face such that only his strong jaw wasdisplayed.
Accusations could only bebased upon fact and all she had at present were suspicions. She, ofcourse, could not enter the saloon without drawing attention, andit may be he would not act as he intended if he knew of herpresence.
Three lads admiring thetethered horses gave her opportunity, and the weight of her pursegave her the means. Approaching them, she arranged a smile upon herface. The expression felt foreign, and judging by the boys’expressions, was not wholly successful. “Which of you would like toearn two dollars?”
All three of themregarded her warily. “What is it you want us to do, ma’am?” onefinally asked.
Hope nodded to thesaloon. “There is a man inside I wish you to observe. Simply enterthe saloon, watch him for a period of time, and then report back tome.”
They glanced amongstthemselves.
“If you wishto discuss it, I can wait,” she said.
Still clearly hesitant,one stepped forward. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.”She held out a note. “One dollar now, the rest when you comeout.”
Snatching the dollar fromher hand, the boy nodded as she gave a brief description of MrWade, and she watched as he disappeared inside thesaloon.
The other two boysregarded her warily. She smiled again, and it still felt odd uponher. The boys seemed to agree, as they turned back to the horsesand their discussion.
By the reckoning of thetimepiece pinned to her chest, their friend emerged twenty minuteslater. “What did you observe?”
The boy’s brows knit.“Huh?”
She waved a hand at thesaloon. “What did the gentleman I set you to watch do?”
“Oh.Nothing.”
