Free Dreams of Gold by Linda Carroll-Bradd Page A

Morrissey.” He fought the kick to his heart rate speaking her name caused.
    “So, if Miss Morrissey came to Bull City to meet with Mulcahy, he must be coming back. And if he is, he has to know he can’t show up in this town without bringing along that mining equipment.”
    “You’re right, Bud.” Quinn set his jaw. If he hadn’t been distracted by her green eyes, he might have figured that fact out for himself.
    “The question is, when?”
    “And where?” Quinn thought back to her questions. She was asking about Mulcahy’s office, as if she expected to find him there. In a flash, Quinn stood, grabbed his hat, and strode toward the door. “I’m headed to the stage depot to talk with Joe Bardan. Maybe he has word on an incoming shipment.”

Chapter Five
    Quinn Riley sauntered through Bull City, a light-hearted spring in his step that hadn’t been there several hours earlier. Bardan had supplied no information about incoming shipments, but had invited Quinn to share supper. Susannah Bardan made the best pot roast in town, and Quinn found no reason to refuse the invitation. After the tasty meal, the two men enjoyed a few rounds of darts in the freight office. The time away cleared his mind of a bewitching green-eyed woman.
    Purple sky clung to the mountain ridge and pinpricks of light dotted the heavens. Time to make his evening rounds. His boot heels thudded a steady cadence as he strode the boardwalk. Most folks must be in for the evening, as it should be, but he wondered at the number of darkened windows. At each business, he paused to test the door knob to be sure it was locked.
    Tinny piano music grew louder as he approached the center of town. At the Red-Eye Saloon, he stepped inside the swinging doors and scanned the room. The bartender, Don Gibson, wiped a towel over the wooden counter and dipped his chin in acknowledgement. Two poker games were in action and several men stood at the bar. Miss Josie leaned on the shoulders of a well-dressed man with chips stacked high in front of him. Near the piano, Miss Lucy joked with a couple of cowboys. All looked in order, and he slipped out the door.
    “Sheriff Riley. We’ve been looking all over for you.”
    At his name, Quinn turned and spotted Nathaniel Piper, a member of the town council, hurrying across the packed dirt street. “Evening, Nate. What’s the problem?”
    “That easterner has the womenfolk all riled up.”
    At the word “easterner,” Quinn tensed and his light-hearted mood disappeared. “Explain that.”
    “You’ve got to come to the church.”
    “The church? Why?”
    “She’s up there right now, holding a suffrage meeting, and the men aren’t happy.” Nate fell into stride beside Quinn. “I heard Bart Holling complaining that his wife demanded to know about their finances.”
    “His missus?” The image of quiet, unassuming Marta Holling flashed through his mind and disbelief quickly followed. “Asking a forward question like that?” More curious was why the Hollings’ financial discussion concerned Nate Piper?
    “Did you hear Miss Johnson turned down Mike Thompson’s proposal of marriage this afternoon?” Nate’s heavy footsteps clomped out his displeasure. “When Mike asked what had changed her mind, Miss Johnson told him the cards were all wrong.”
    Cards? Queasiness grabbed his stomach. He’d spied Ciara and Belle with an array of cards this morning. Quinn wrinkled his brow. Ciara, a fortuneteller? Was there a town ordinance against the practice? He’d have to check later.
    So this was why the houses were dark and the streets were so quiet. Side by side, the men headed up the street, and Quinn looked ahead to where lights blazed from the church windows. “What’s your concern in this, Nate? You’re a bachelor.”
    “At supper, I heard Belle thank Miss Morrissey for some type of infusion she’d provided.”
    Ah, a concern that dealt with the man’s livelihood. That made more sense.
    When they reached the