Free The Reluctant Pinkerton by Robert J. Randisi Page B

felt they were in a sort of limbo, an area between Hell’s Half Acre and the high-class saloons like the White Elephant and the Silverado.
    He found a livery stable and dragged Dol to the back of it, so they could lean on the corral and talk away from prying eyes.
    “What do I have to do to convince you?” he asked. “Physically put you on the train myself?”
    He didn’t want to do that. A man putting a writhing, squirming woman on a train would attract attention.
    Dol became irritated, almost pugnacious, and suddenly looked comical behind the soot. Putting her fists on her hips certainly did not help matters.
    “I don’t know why I have to explain myself to you,” she said.
    “I’ll tell you why,” Roper said. “Because you’re risking my life.”
    “I saved your life last night!”
    “No you didn’t,” he said. “I was ready for those two, and I wanted one of them alive. All you did was get in the way.”
    “Well, fine, then,” she said. “Fine. I can do this job without you.”
    “I’m warning you,” Roper said. “If you stay in Fort Worth, stay away from me. You want to get yourself killed, that’s one thing, but don’t take me with you.”
    “Fine!”
    She turned and stormed away from him. His preference certainly would have been to get her to go home, but the next best thing was for her to stay away from him. And—if she got herself killed—for him to feel no guilt at all.
    None.

16
    Roper went from his scene with Dol directly to the Bullshead Saloon. In the middle of the day it was still crowded, with music and gambling going strong. Also, the girls were working the floor.
    He stood just inside the batwings, trying to spot Nancy. When he didn’t see her, he went to the bar and made a space for himself.
    “What’ll ya have?” the bartender asked.
    “Beer.”
    “Comin’ up.”
    Roper had stopped thinking about dirty glasses and silverware and rooms. If he was going to immerse himself in the character of Andy Blake, all of that was going to have to be accepted.
    The bartender set a mug in front of him. It was surprisingly cold and good, with an impressive head on it.
    “A nickel,” the bartender said, “now.”
    Apparently, the bartender did not see in him whatever Nancy had detected the night before. The man took him at face value and wanted his money now.
    Roper took out a nickel and slapped it down on the bar. The bartender picked up the nickel and walked away.
    Roper nursed his beer, hoping Nancy would come out onto the floor eventually. When she hadn’t shown by the time he finished his beer, he decided to take action. He waved the bartender over.
    “I don’t see that blonde around. You know, um…” he began.
    “Nancy Ransom? She’ll be on tonight,” the bartender said.
    “Uh, yeah, Nancy. Hmm,” Roper said, “me and her, we was supposed to, uh…”
    “She’s upstairs, second door to the right,” the bartender said. “If you’re lyin’, she’ll put a bullet in ya. Good luck.”
    “Yeah, thanks.”
    The place was crowded and nobody was looking at him. It was too early for the Fixx brothers to come in looking for him. He walked casually to the open stairway and started up slowly, not wanting to attract any attention. When he got to the second level, he found Nancy’s door and knocked.
    “Who is it?”
    He didn’t answer, just knocked again.
    “Whataya want?”
    He knocked once more.
    “Goddamn it…” she was swearing as she swung the door open. When she saw him, she froze in place. “You—” she started, but he cut her off by pushing her inside, and stepping in after her. He pulled the door closed behind him.
    “Get out of here!” she snapped. She was wearing a dressing gown that was hanging open, revealing her undergarments and a lot of skin. Abruptly, she pulled it closed in front of her, crossing her arms. Her golden hair was piled atop her head, revealing a long, graceful neck.
    “Relax,” he said, “I ain’t after your lily-white skin.”