Free Pistons and Pistols by Tonia Brown Page B

about one thing; Ironstation was indeed very small. The whole place was comprised of nothing more than a handful of buildings surrounding a single, makeshift road. There was a building that appeared to be a meeting hall one on side of the dusty thoroughfare, and two large buildings on the opposite side, which Rose suspected were lodgings. Next to the meeting hall was a well-worn saloon that bore a handmade sign identifying it as Jack’s Place . A stable housing a few nervous ponies, joined by a good-sized barn, sat at one end of the road, while a large, beautiful house sat several hundred yards away from the town proper, atop a plateau. The entrance to the mine rested at the base of the plateau, with a pair of metal tracks that ran from the gates of the mine to the center of the tiny town.
    What Jebediah failed to mention was how disgusting the town was, though Rose should have guessed as much. Garbage and manure lined the only street, and the air carried the faint scent of cooked cabbage. The place was in dire need of a woman’s touch. While the mess didn’t bother Rose, who had spent half her life on a ship filled with slovenly males, it did upset the matron in Dot. She picked her way through the trash-strewn street, her face scrunched in a tight look of repugnance.
    “Phew,” Dot said, waving her hand in front of her nose. “This is a town full of men all right. I bet they haven’t seen a woman through here in many a moon.”
    “Speaking of men, where are these so-called miners?” Jax asked.
    As if on cue, a small fellow burst from the saloon’s swinging doors. Music poured from the opening as the man stumbled backward, falling on his rump into the dirt. He squirmed in the street for a moment, wheezing as if unable to catch his breath. When he sat up, Rose could see a line of red trailing down his face from nostrils to chin.
    A second guy, much larger than the first, stormed through the doors with a mighty roar. “Clemet! You cheatin’ bastard. I’ll have your gizzard out before I’m through with you.”
    “Now Jack,” the first one said, scrambling across the road as quick as his position would allow. “I wasthn’t cheating. I didn’t know I had that card sthuck in my belt. Honesth!”
    The big man bore down on the small chap, gritting his teeth and growling like a dog about to attack. The little fellow held up his hands, begging his attacker to spare him, but the larger guy would grant no reprieve. He snatched up the little one by the collar, lifting him from the ground as if he weighed nothing. The small man’s boot heels dug narrow furrows in the dirt as he kicked about, trying to wiggle free.
    “I’m gonna beat the lie right outa your hide,” the bigger guy snarled.
    Rose, while never one to horn in on someone else’s argument, didn’t have time to wait for them to settle their score. “Excuse me!”
    Both males stopped, turning to her in comical unison. Two sets of eyes went wide.
    “I hate to interrupt your instruction in honesty,” she continued, “but can you tell me if this is Ironstation?”
    The pair stared at the women in gaping-mouthed silence.
    “Gentlemen?” Rose asked. “We assume this is the correct place, but your small town seems to lack any indication of identity.”
    “Clem?” the big man peeped, in a voice that seemed much too small for such a bear of a man.
    “Yeah, Jack,” the little one squeaked. “I sthee them too.”
    “You reckon they’re one of them optional illusions?”
    “I sthure hope they aren’t.”
    “I assure you,” Rose said, “we are not illusions. We are very real, very tired and growing very impatient.”
    “Women,” the one named Jack whispered. “Real flesh and blood women.”
    He dropped the other man in the dirt, then proceeded to run one big hand through his thinning hair as he straightened his filthy apron with the other. The one named Clemet scrambled to his feet as he brushed down his clothes. Their argument seemed forgotten in