Chapter 2

Leadville, Colorado

Three weeks later

It was always difficult to come down off the tense horse of a bounty chase, but Josh was finding the Burns affair more troublesome than most.

Their entrance into the old military fort-turned-city of Fort Collins had been greeted by the townsfolk with the usual mixed stares and glares. Those who were disgusted at men who hunted other men for money looked askance with a disapproving eye, while those who accepted it as a fact of life in the frontier shrugged their shoulders and went about their business. However, the avid interest in the identity of the captive who rode behind the two bounty hunters on a rented mule was apparent on every face that turned their way. Tillot Burns could probably claim without exaggeration that he was the most notorious man in a crow's flight in all directions.

Josh took comfort in the fact that the estimation of both he and Jason had improved slightly upon their return with Burns in tow. Not that he would have been surprised if it wasn't the case. In his seven years in the profession, ingratitude was as common as rain on a wedding day. It didn't seem fair, but there was little he could do about it. He did his job as best he knew how, collected the money, and moved on. That was what he had been teaching Jason these past eight months.

For the most part, Nichols had learned. He was brasher than some, Josh allowed, but the confidence wasn't born of arrogance. Rather, the man had a zeal for both justice and the high pay of the profession. Most likely his young age was to thank for that. Despite Jason's missing out on the war because he was so young, Josh had to grant that he often acted like a veteran. Little shook him, and he was a crack shot even in the worst of situations, but ever since the Burns case Josh thought he detected a wavering of purpose. He couldn't have a tentative and uncommitted man at his back, but at the same time, he didn't want these doubts to get the better of him when there might not be anything to worry over.

Leadville might be the place to sweep away some of the heavy feelings left over from the Fort Collins mess. It was certainly jumping and full of opportunities of all sorts. With a freshly-laid track leading into the city, every day brought cars full of potential cash in his pocket. There were bound to be a few among them who would get into trouble, once unleashed in a town where spirits were high and liquor flowed like the proverbial river of milk and honey.

Josh sat at a table in the corner of the Hotel Windsor's dining room with a clear shot at the swinging doors that opened from the room onto the street outside. He wasn't expecting trouble, but it had caught him unawares in the past when he was sitting down to enjoy meals such as this. He found it never hurt to act like someone was always out to get you.

The matter of thwarting an ambush settled, Josh looked around the room. "Hotel" was stretching it a bit. It was more of a saloon, cleaner than most with better food. The sign's bold letters claiming it was "The Best in Leadville" was probably exaggerating it as well, but it had beds and pillows with only a couple roaches. Nothing worth complaining about. The fares were a bit steep, but that was the way of boom towns.

A waitress arrived with two plates and set one down in front of him. She looked at him in confusion and gestured to the empty chair across from him.

"You said you had a friend coming," she said, her tone slightly accusing that he might have put her through the trouble of fixing a plate that had no buyer. With her spare hand, she smoothed back a loose lock of hair that had escaped the long, thick braid that lay coiled around the crown of her head. Two spots of color already marked her cheeks from the rush of the morning dining hour, and she looked to be in no mood for unneeded work.

Josh had already taken a bite of biscuit at the insistence of his growling stomach. He began to talk, but clamped his lips shut at the first sign of flying crumbs. He settled for a sheepish nod and pointed for the plate to be set down.

"Very well, then," the young woman said crisply, sliding the plate onto the table. She turned away with a quick hitch of her hips, causing her full skirt to swirl artfully. Josh craned his neck imperceptibly to watch her move on to another table, appreciating the curves that corset and bustle lent to her figure.

No cards tonight, he vowed. There were other plans begging to be made. Despite winning – and winning heavily – at the poker table last night, he had only managed to get three scant hours of sleep. Far too little when a new job was in the offing. He needed to get into some sort of rested condition before heading out on the trail again.

He stabbed at a piece of fried steak, dipped it in the pool of white gravy, and ate it with renewed gusto. The hotel served good food, no question, even with the roaches upstairs and an extra lump or three in the mattresses.

The hinges on the half-doors creaked loudly, piercing the hum of the diners' conversations, and Josh looked up. Jason's lanky figure appeared a few steps into the dining room. He paused, scanning the room with a quick, discerning eye and spotted Josh within a few seconds. With his usual loping stride, he was at the table and in the chair before Josh could get out a "Good morning."

"Help yourself," he said as Jason was already halfway to cutting through the steak. "Are matters all squared with the law?"

Jason belatedly realized he still wore his hat and tossed it onto the seat of the third chair at the table. "You weren't kidding when you said the sheriff here was tight with a dollar. The bounty left his hands more reluctant than I ever seen. My dad would say that there's more space between bark and a tree than Hatch and a greenback."

Josh's lips quirked into a fleeting, knowing smile. Over the course of their partnership, Josh had often been regaled with some pithy proverb allegedly said by the elder Nichols. He suspected that the man was overly fond of The Farmer's Almanack. "Your dad is always good for a smart saying. How can one man be so wise, I wonder?"

"I don't know," Jason said, nonplussed. "You have to admit it's better than your words of wisdom. What was that you once told me? 'Not only wasn't I in the room when the brains got handed out, I wasn't even in the house'? Pretty harsh, Josh." He grinned.

"And I meant every word, at the time," Josh replied. "Oh, don't be too hard on Hatch. I know him from the war. He just likes to make sure a job's done right, is all. Always been like that. Always will, I 'spect."

"And this was just a little ol' payroll escort job we did," Jason went on, slathering a biscuit with butter. "Hatch gave me a going-over about every detail. I'd hate to think what hoops I'd have had to jump through if we'd brought in a fugitive." Half the biscuit disappeared in one bite and he chewed and stared in silent contemplation until he swallowed. "You might have told me it'd be like getting cross-examined by my mother. Nice thing for you to leave me with that so you could start stuffing your face early."

Josh chuckled. "Well, you got to learn to deal with all types of lawmen when you're the one on the other side of the badge, and Hatch is one of a kind. I wouldn't want you to go your own way with your own business and be unprepared for the more colorful types."

Jason's jaw slowed and he looked down at his plate. "My own business…" He glanced up at Josh, his gaze faltering only briefly before taking on a determined, stubborn edge that Josh knew all too well. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking, and I guess you're right. My heart hasn't been in it lately, has it?" When Josh didn't speak, he went on. "The partnership we have going, I mean. I feel like I haven't been holding up my end of it, ever since Burns.

"And it's not over yet," he went on. "Hatch gave us a 'Well done' on catching Burns, then asked if we'd heard the latest about that."

"Oh? He hasn't swung yet, I'm guessing."

Jason nodded. "Seems the leg wound I gave him got infected and the miserable sonofabitch is delirious. Judge won't move until he gets well or dies, whichever comes first. Hatch said this judge is set on bringing civilized law to the West and won't budge."

"Well, that'll be mighty hard on the girl's family and her fiancé, won't it?" Josh said, feeling genuine pain for the misery he imagined they were suffering. "Satisfying as it might have been to kill him, Jason, I'm glad you didn't. He's suffering now more than he would have with a bullet in his skull."

"It took some doing not to."

Josh shook his head. "I understand. Sometimes a job gets right under your skin and won't leave you be. You were due for one, Jason. Nothing that'd been thrown at you stuck to you, and there's been plenty. Something was bound to come along, sooner or later."

"And here I've been wondering if I was gonna get kicked to the side if you thought it'd be best," Jason said, his face relaxing into a relieved smile. "Next job, Josh, there won't be any troubles at all."

"There weren't any for the last one. Simple payroll guard duty, remember?" Josh replied, glad that Jason was looking down at his plate so he couldn't see the transparent doubt that crossed his face. But he was relieved. Jason's declaration had gone a long way to putting his niggling fears to rest. All he needed to do was keep the man on track and they'd likely live longer.

The waitress reappeared, and Josh leaped at the distraction. The high color was beginning to fade from her cheeks, and her movements were losing their sharp and irritated efficiency. The image of renting a wagon and taking a moonlight ride was looking more and more appealing than sitting around a smoky table with a gang of potential cheats.

"Say, now that I don't have my mouth full, thanks for the breakfast." He smiled.

"Certainly," the girl replied. "You're paying for it, aren't you? Anything else I can get for you?"

"How about some of your time tonight?"

Jason rolled his eyes under the cover of finding something of sudden interest on the street outside through the large picture window. He glanced at Josh out of the corner of his eye, only to see his partner staring, dejected, at the back of the departing waitress.

"No, huh?"

"Guess not.

"I might be able to give you some advice in that area, Josh."

"Oh, can you now?" Josh retorted, eyebrows darting upward in plain doubt. "If I remember right, your idea of thanking Billy Joe Henry's girl for warning you about getting ambushed was to lay one on her without so much as a flower first. Got a slap for that, I heard."

"My technique has improved some since then."

"Uh huh."

"Oh here, almost forgot" Jason furtively wiped his hands on his pants and reached into his vest pocket. When he retrieved a roll of bills, a folded piece of yellow paper fluttered onto the table.

"You dropped something there."

Jason looked down, saw the paper, and hastily fumbled at it. "Damn," he muttered, as he shoved it back into his interior pocket.

"Problem?"

"What?" he asked, visibly distracted. "Oh no. It's…nothing. Here. Here's your half," he said, handing the wad of money into Josh's outstretched hand. "Only fifty, but some safe, easy money was a nice change of pace. Looks like, uh, you might be needing it tonight since asking nicely didn't do the trick."

"The day I have to pay for a friendly evening, Jason, is the day I know it's time to hang it all up." He slipped the wad of money into his shirt pocket and pulled at the halves of his jacket in what Jason thought was mildly wounded pride.

"Well, I'm not so proud," Jason admitted, taking the last biscuit to sop up the last remains of the gravy. "I'll gladly pay for it if the price is right and it's worth the trouble."

"Does your dad have something to say about that as well?"

"He might, if I dared tell him!" Jason popped the last bit of biscuit into his mouth and rose, fishing a dollar coin from his pocket and dropping it on the table.

"Where you headed now?"

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed the bustling activity on Chestnut Street. "Just going to look around. We're still waiting to hear if we're needed for that job, right?"

"That's right."

"All right, then. I haven't been in Leadville since I was a little boy when my dad brought me along with him on a trip. That was when it was just a tiny place called Oro City. Back then it was gold, now it's silver that has everyone jumping."

"Take a look in on the horses while you're at it," Josh said. "It was late when we got in last night, but I wasn't so tired that I didn't notice the squirrely look on the groom's face. Make sure they look taken care of."

Jason nodded. "Sure. My dad used to say—"

"I'm sure he did." He smiled. and tilted his head towards the door. "Go on now."

Jason retrieved his hat and turned to leave, nearly colliding with their waitress who was laden down with a large coffeepot and a tray of dessert pastries. To Josh's irritation, he saw the woman's face collapse into an embarrassed, giddy smile as she gave a dainty side-step and laughingly brushed off Jason's profuse apology before he could even start.

Undaunted, he had a ready smile for her when she returned to his table and dipped the platter low for his inspection. An invitation was on his lips when he happened to glance up over the apple turnover and saw that she had challenge in her eyes, as if daring him to try mashing again.

Curiosity swamped all intentions. "Say, what did my partner say or look at you like when you were here earlier?" When she didn't immediately reply, he answered for her. "I'll tell you. Nothing that I could see. Women!" He stood and tossed some coins onto the table. "I swear, I'll never understand you."

"Well," the waitress replied softly, "at least you're keeping your voice down."

"Darn right," he said. "I don't intend to embarrass you, miss. Just itching with curiosity about what you all like and don't like. Some days it's like being drunk in a shooting gallery. Pure luck."

She smiled tolerantly, all former challenging airs dampened by his honest, straightforward plea. "That partner of yours is a right tender fellow. Don't even know his name, but he's got far more soft edges than sharp and a girl can see it. You've got nothing of the kind, but some girls like that. I'm not one of them." She gestured to the tray with a tilt of her head. "So I guess you won't be having anything sweet for dessert?"

"I think I will," Josh said, resentment fading at the smell of the hot turnovers. He picked one up and danced it back and forth from hand to hand a couple times until it cooled tolerably.

"Take a napkin," she whispered. "No one will notice it missing. With all the money that's flowed into this town the last couple years, the manager practically throws things away."

Josh obliged and wrapped the pastry in the white linen. He slipped it into his jacket pocket and picked up his hat, bowing in farewell with a curt, shy nod of his head.

As he turned to leave, she murmured, "Come back in spring, Mr. Randall. I just might have changed my mind."