Chapter 19
Cheyenne, Wyoming 1867
The saloon was warm and welcoming, from the heavy rains and icy chill, the crackling fire casting shadows that danced across the floor. Carter swirled his drink in contemplation, the amber liquid reflecting the flickering light in his steely blue eyes. Across from him sat Lochlan, a deep furrow evident on his brow.
"Are you sure about this, Lock?" Carter's voice held a hint of suspicion.
Lochlan scoffed, the sound harsh in the dimly lit room. "I know how to read women."
A cynical smile tugged at Carter's lips. "I guess you do." He downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, the burn leaving a grimace on his weathered face.
The tension in the air was palpable as the truth hung heavy between them. Carter's gaze flicked to Lochlan's clenched fist on the table, threatening enough to make the glasses tremble. An unmistakable glint of danger flashed in his eyes.
"You know who it is?"
"She hasn't made so much as a glance in anyone's direction in weeks." Lochlan slammed his fist on the table, the force rattling the glasses.
"None of my men would dare. Not after what happened to the last one who crossed me." The air crackled with unspoken threats. Carter raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips. "So, we're dealing with a man who ain't afraid," Carter drawled with a hint of amusement.
"Or perhaps just a fool with a death wish."
"Either way, we'll find him, Lock. And when we do..." His voice trailed off, a low threat hanging in the air like smoke from his cigar. A cold smile spread across Carter's face. "There will be a reckoning."