Free A Touch of Camelot by Delynn Royer Page B

patient while Arthur picked and probed for another five minutes. Finally, there was an almost imperceptible click.
    "Yessirree bob!" Arthur looked up, his eyes alight.
    Cole felt the cuff open and slide from his wrist. "Arthur!" He grasped the boy by his shoulders. "You're a pint-sized miracle worker."
    Arthur beamed. "We men, we gotta stick together, right?"
    Cole slapped him on the back. "You betcha, kiddo." He reached for his shirt, which was slung over the bottom of their berth.
    "Cole?"
    Cole buttoned his shirt and jerked on his boots as he contemplated what form his revenge on Guinevere Pierce should take. "What?"
    "You're not mad anymore, right? I mean, you aren't going to hurt her, right?"
    Cole didn’t answer for a moment. He found his coat and shrugged one arm into its sleeve. "Hurt her?" He took the hatpin from Arthur and dropped it into his pocket.
    "You just stay put, kiddo." Cole snatched his gun belt and rose to his feet. "I'm not going to hurt her, but I am going to find her, and when I do..." The rest of his sentence was lost. He was already halfway down the sleeping car's narrow aisle.

Chapter Five
     
     
    Saloon Car
     
    Gwin peered coolly over a full house to size up the gentleman seated across from her at the small table. The cards were marked. She knew it. He knew it. This was a cat-and-mouse game, only Gwin wasn't sure yet which of them was the cat and which the mouse. All she knew for sure was that she had to earn some money before skipping the Union Pacific Express 840. She was tired of stealing horses.
    With two fingers, she slid a pair of chips into a growing pot in the center of the table. Her own small pile of chips represented the sum total of her wealth in this world, an engraved silver pocket watch Emmaline had once given Silas. She had already shaken off a twinge of guilt at staking her only family heirloom to earn traveling money. If anyone would have understood her reasoning, it would have been Silas.
    Gwin smiled, hoping she appeared more confident than she felt. "I'll call and raise you one, Mr. Monroe."
    The man grinned, but his expression, she knew, had nothing to do with what he presumably held in his hand. He was in his mid-thirties, a flashy dresser with a closely trimmed mustache and slick black hair parted in the middle. He had very dark, very discerning eyes that kept focusing with disturbing regularity on Gwin's bosom. Gwin, who had long ago learned the advantages of engaging in innocent flirtation, didn't mind as long as he kept his hands to himself.
    She reached for her brandy snifter and raised her gaze just in time to see the door to the saloon car yawn open. She bit her lip as Cole Shepherd's rangy form filled the doorway. Drat! Gwin still had the key to those handcuffs in her skirt pocket. How the devil had he escaped so quickly?
    As her eyes locked with Cole's, Gwin's stomach did a flip-flop. She saw the storm brewing there and, for the first time since lifting the key from his coat pocket, she had second thoughts about her impulsive action. Cole wasn't just mad, he was furious.
    Gwin gulped a mouthful of brandy. "Uh-oh."
    Mr. Monroe, who was settled back into his seat puffing on his cigar and contemplating his cards, looked up. "Is something wrong, Miss Pierce?"
    Heads turned as Cole crossed the length of the saloon car. Edging his jacket back with his forearm, Cole rested one hand on his gun belt as he addressed the man seated across from Gwin.
    "The lady is through for this evening, sir. She's coming with me."
    Mr. Monroe plucked his cigar from between his teeth. "And who are you? Her husband?"
    "The lady is traveling in my custody."
    "Is that right? Well, maybe she's ready to change custodies."
    "Look, I don't want any trouble, mister, but I am leaving with the lady, whether you like it or not."
    "Seems to me that the little lady here should be the one to make that decision."
    Gwin glanced from Shepherd to Monroe and back to Shepherd again. Stuck between Monroe's