Free Helldorado by Peter Brandvold Page A

soft banker’s hands adorned with clean, immaculately trimmed nails.
    “Well, now that that’s taken care of, will you both be ready to start as soon as tomorrow? Say, seven o’clock?”
    “Fine as frog hair,” Prophet said.
    Louisa nodded. “How many other riders?”
    “Three. They’re expecting a new ramrod, and that man will of course be you, Mr. Prophet.”
    “Best not remind him of that too often,” Louisa said.
    Miguel smiled, flushing again as his gaze washed over Louisa like a soft summer rain. “You two have been together for a while, I take it?”
    Louisa glanced at Prophet. “It’s been a few years, hasn’t it, Lou?”
    Prophet felt a bittersweet pang of nostalgia, knowing—or at least hoping—their partnership was coming to a close. He wasn’t sure he intended to give up bounty hunting for good, but he knew it was time for Louisa to hang up her guns. “Three years, four months, twenty-seven days.”
    “You two must mean a lot to each other?” Miguel said, pressing his fingers down hard against the blotter and looking up at Louisa from under his brows.
    She glanced at Prophet, the skin above the bridge of her nose wrinkling slightly. She smiled and bit her upper lip, which quivered slightly with emotion, and Prophet moved in quickly to buoy the mood with: “I reckon you could say I been Louisa’s big brother, past couple years. I look out for her, and she looks out for me. Time to settle down now, though. Gold guarding’s enough excitement for me. Hell, I might just find me a little shack and settle down right here in Juniper, run a few chickens, and get me a coon for a pet.”
    Miguel’s eyes were on Louisa. “Is that your intention, as well, Miss Bonaventure? Settling down here, I mean.”
    “If I’ve learned one thing, Mr. Encina,” Louisa said, lifting her gaze to his, her eyes clear and bold once again, “it’s to never intend much of anything. I just ride. But I guess for now I’m going to stop riding for a while, since Lou wants it so consarned bad, and I guess you could say I’m ready to try something else. I suppose gold guarding will be a sort of gentle easing into an easier life for both of us.”
    “I hope you like it here. It’s a nice town—I assure you.”
    “We’ll see,” Louisa said, glancing at Prophet as she gained her feet and donned her hat.
    Miguel climbed to his feet then, too, and extended his hand to Louisa. “So very nice to meet you, Miss Bonaventure. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
    He extended his hand to Prophet as the big bounty hunter heaved himself up from his chair and stuffed his battered Stetson on his sweaty, dusty head. “And of course I’ve read about you, too, Mr. Prophet. The trails from the mines have been quiet of late, and I’m sure when word gets around that you and Miss Bonaventure are working for us now, they’ll be even quieter.”
    “Hope so.”
    “May I inquire where you’ll both be staying? The Muleskinner’s Inn is where the other guards flop between jobs, but . . .” The young banker’s concerned eyes swept from Prophet to Louisa. “. . . But . . . um . . . it’s really not a place I think you’d enjoy, Miss Bonaventure. It’s a bit on the rustic side. May I suggest the Golden Slipper? It’s near the opera house, on its north side, in fact. A lovely place run by a German couple from Denver, and it’s where the opera companies stay whenever they’re in town. In fact, one such company should be here yet this afternoon, for a performance this evening. I’m sure they’ve reserved rooms for themselves, but the Slipper has at least thirty.”
    Prophet glanced at Louisa. She returned it. They normally slept together, in the same room, and he could tell she was reluctant to sleep alone. But that wouldn’t do here in Juniper. Especially when Louisa had already gotten a young man on her string.
    Quickly, Prophet said, “The Golden Slipper, huh? Well, that sounds just your style, Louisa. And if the Muleskinner’s