until I can get him out."
"Hunting a lost gold mine amongst the scum of the earth... The boy must have more nerve than a toothache," Cade said.
Holt nodded his agreement, then added, "Let's hope he inherited your lucky streak, Grey."
Logan didn't bother to respond to that. The whole lucky business had stuck in his craw ever since Nana Nellie first pasted the nickname on him. Out of respect for the woman he'd grown to love, he kept his opinions to himself, though he'd always wanted to ask her why she thought a person who had lost his entire family in a flood could be considered lucky. So what if his suspenders had caught on a log and kept his head above the raging waters until they receded? His entire family had died! He simply couldn't consider that being lucky.
Logan continued to keep his mouth shut about the idea because doing so suited his purpose. While he believed that people made their own luck rather than luck falling on their shoulders like fairy dust, he did recognize that having a lucky reputation often paid off. Opponents were easier to bluff in card games if they believed in his good luck. Folks were less likely to challenge his opinions if he tied them to his good luck tendency. Most important of all, he figured his reputation lessened the number of gunfights he got involved in by at least half. Men didn't mind matching their skills, but when it came to gun luck, superstition ruled the day.
Logan shoved back his chair and stood. "I'm going to try to catch Tom Addison. I'll look y'all up tomorrow."
He'd gathered his hat and started for the door when a stranger's voice brought him up short. "Lucky Logan Grey! I'm calling you out."
The piano music suddenly went quiet. As Logan turned to face a broad-shouldered stranger, he vaguely wondered when, if ever, he'd walked through a saloon paying such little attention to his surroundings. Today's events certainly had taken a toll. "Who the hell are you?"
"My name is Bo Pilchard and I'm told that you're the man who put my brother in the hospital today."
Today? Who had he put in the hospital...oh. Good Lord, this morning seemed like forever ago. "Was your brother attempting to rob the bank?"
"Yes, I fear that is true. However, I made a promise to my mama that I'd have my brother's back. His brains are scrambled, so I'm afraid that puts you and me at odds. I demand retribution."
Logan noticed that friends rose from their seats and moved into protective positions as he asked, "You figuring to pull a gun on me?"
"No. That wouldn't be right considering it was a bank robbery and all." He held up two large fists. "I'm aiming to take my family vengeance with these."
"A rumble." Logan considered the idea. It had been a while since he'd indulged in a good old-fashioned bar fight, and the idea of throwing some good hard punches lifted his spirits. Maybe that was just the medicine he needed tonight. "You know what?" he replied, grinning. "Right at this particular moment, I can't think of anything I'd like better than a rumble."
Well, except maybe a tumble.
With his wife.
Distracted by the thought, Lucky missed his block and caught a hard jab to his jaw. As his head snapped back, he heard Cade whistle and Holt observe, "Now that's what I call a lucky punch."
Lucky, hell. Logan rolled up his sleeves and dived into the fight.
CHAPTER FIVE
Caroline glanced down at the note in her hand, then up at the placard on the door. Thomas M. Addison, Attorney at Law.
Her stomach took a roll. It had been rolling ever since the note from Logan arrived at her hotel this morning asking her to meet him here. Why would he want her to attend a meeting with an attorney?
To discuss divorce?
She swallowed a sudden bad taste in her mouth, then smoothed the skirt of her simple walking ensemble as her teeth tugged at her lower lip. It wasn't as if she hadn't considered the idea herself numerous times over the years, though she'd never followed through on it. It was silly for a woman in her
Landon Dixon, Giselle Renarde, Beverly Langland