The Three Star Hotel was where Slocum had stayed the last time he was in town. Back then, it was a modest little place run by a family who’d just gotten started and had thrown everything they had into maintaining their business. The rooms were small, but clean. The meals served were tasty and stuck to a man’s bones. Most important, the beds were a hell of a lot better than sleeping on a bedroll in the middle of the desert. Slocum headed there now because he simply couldn’t recall the name of any other hotels in Mescaline.
On his way there, he felt more and more eyes staring at him from behind darkened windows and shadowy doorways. After having to endure a long day’s ride and the scuffle in the street, he no longer gave a damn who was watching as he, his horse, and a bundle of recently acquired firearms made their way to the three-story building near the center of town. The outside of the Three Star was much fancier than he recalled, and there were plenty of lanterns burning within. Slocum tied his horse to a post, entered the hotel, and walked up to a desk where a tall, frail-looking woman stood with a pencil already in hand.
“Can I . . . help . . .” The woman’s question trailed off as her eyed narrowed into a harsh squint. She stared intently at the man that had just walked in from the darkness before whispering, “John? Is that you?”
Slocum nodded and gave her a tired smile. “It is.” When he’d started talking, Slocum couldn’t remember her name. Just seeing the woman’s narrow features and warm eyes brought her right back to the front of his thoughts. “It’s . . . Margaret, right?”
Her smile had been there before, but now it positively beamed. “That’s right! I didn’t think you’d remember.”
“You remembered me.”
“Well, after what happened when you were in town last time, it would be next to impossible to forget you.”
“This time is shaping up to be fairly interesting as well,” Slocum said. “I’d be surprised if you hadn’t heard the commotion.”
“I did hear something, but I guess I just thought it could have been some drunks or the like.”
Slocum could tell she had more to say on the matter, but he was too tired to press. Instead, he told her, “I could use a room. Do you have anything on the third floor?”
“No, but I have plenty of nice rooms on the second.”
“Sounds fine. Something away from the stairs if you’ve got it. I’d also like a good view of the street.”
She smiled again nervously. “Now that sounds familiar.”
“Yeah, I suppose I did have to watch my back and just about every other part of me when Hartley started going on his tear.”
To anyone who’d lived in Mescaline during those days, mentioning that name was more than enough to send a chill down their spine. Whether it was followed by anger, fear, or sadness, the chill worked its way through Margaret’s body and made her avert her eyes. When she looked back at him, she forced herself to remain steady.
“It’s good to have you back, John. What brings you to Mescaline?”
“I found myself in Nevada and had some business to conduct,” Slocum told her. “I figured since I’m on good terms with folks around here, I’d stop by, conduct my business, and see how everyone was doing since I left.”
Margaret nodded stiffly.
“I am still on good terms with folks around here, right?” he asked.
Her lips pressed tightly together but soon curled into a genuine, albeit weary, smile. “I can only speak for myself and a few others, but I can say you’re definitely a welcome sight. Always will be.”
He looked across the desk at her, studying her stance as well as her face. He wanted to ask about the two men that had sought him out and why nobody had bothered to step foot outside to watch, lend a hand, or even take a look at what was left behind after the smoke cleared. The law may have left a bad taste in his mouth fairly recently, but the fact that no authority of any sort came along during or after the fight outside the restaurant was just plain odd.
Then there was the name he’d heard from Luke and Matt.
Mr. Dawson.
Slocum would have bet a pretty penny that he’d get a reaction from Margaret if he dropped that name right now. Since he was certain the reaction wouldn’t have been a very good one, he held his tongue. Slocum knew the woman had been through plenty and that didn’t take into account whatever had come to pass since he’d left the first time. He wasn’t in the mood to rattle her again just so he could put a question or two to rest. Considering how important this Dawson fellow was and the fact that shots had already been fired in his name, Slocum was certain he’d find out more about him without having to wait very long.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Margaret asked.
“Yes,” Slocum said as he took the key she handed to him. “Tell me you’re still the one that cooks breakfast for the guests. I’d cross the desert on my hands and knees if your biscuits and gravy were waiting for me.”
Her shoulders lowered as if she’d finally let out a breath that she’d been holding for the better part of a week. “I’ll have a hot plate waiting for you in the morning, along with a fresh pot of coffee.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you, John?”
There was plenty, but Slocum decided to let it wait for another day. “I’d just like some sleep. Can I put my horse up in the back like before?”
“Yes. There should be fresh oats just inside the door.”
He tipped his hat to her and went outside. The moment the cool night air washed across his face, Slocum felt like he was once again on display. More than that, he felt exposed from several angles. The shadows were so thick in several sections of the street that just about anything could be hiding in them. A few torches sputtered in various spots, but they wouldn’t do much do keep back any predators that wanted to remain out of sight. There were plenty of rooftops where someone could make their perch, but Slocum’s gut was still telling him he was safe.
At least . . . as safe as he could be in a town containing men who wanted to see him dead. He chuckled to himself as he took the gelding’s reins and led it around the hotel. If he tried to avoid any place where people wanted to do him harm, Slocum would be confined to a very small patch of land somewhere in an Alaskan snow field.
Some men wanted to kill him because of some old score to settle.
Some wanted to collect one of a few rewards that had been placed on his head. Thinking along those lines, Slocum added Dawson’s three thousand dollars to that list.
And some men just wanted to test themselves against John Slocum because they knew some other gunmen had lost a fight to him. Young outlaws were always looking to add a notch to their belt or polish their reputation, and Slocum didn’t have the inclination to sort through the number of times he’d been fired upon for such a paltry reason.
He’d reached the little barn behind the hotel that was used as a livery stable for the hotel’s owners and guests. The door wasn’t locked, so he pulled it open to reveal an old carriage with wheels that could have been fixed if a talented blacksmith rolled up his sleeves and pounded them out for about a week and a half. Spiders and mice had claimed the carriage’s interior. Fortunately, that dirty old relic was on one side of the barn and the trio of horse stalls were on the other.
Slocum led his gelding to one of the two unoccupied stalls and rummaged around for a feedbag. He found one hanging on the edge of the stall’s door, and when he glanced back to the front door, he found a bag of oats sitting right where Margaret had said it would be. He approached the oats, stooped down to pick them up, and saw a flurry of movement just outside the barn.
Reflexes brought Slocum’s hand to his holster even before he got a look at who was rushing toward him.
The figure moved silently upon feet covered in flat shoes. The dark brown cotton dress draped around the tall, lithe figure made more noise as it flapped in the breeze than the young woman who raced into the barn. She charged at Slocum, recklessly throwing herself at him without an ounce of concern for the pistol he’d almost drawn from the holster at his side.
“Oh my God,” she sighed as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and pressed herself up against him. “It is you, John!”
“Anna,” Slocum said in a voice muffled by the woman who was now clinging to him. “I meant to find you, but I just got into town.”
Anna Redlinger held his face in her hands and leaned back a little to get a better look at him. Her face was just as pretty as he remembered—framed by plenty of flowing, light brown hair. A pert little nose sat at the center of her features like a single button placed upon a lovingly tailored doll. Her lips formed a little bow just beneath it and were colored as if they’d been rubbed by freshly picked strawberries.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “I heard there was trouble. I heard shots. What happened?”
“I’m not hurt,” he said. “You heard the shots?”
“Of course I did. This isn’t exactly a rowdy town.”
“How come nobody came out when they were fired?” Slocum asked. Before he could ask his next question, Anna pulled him in closer and pressed her mouth upon his lips in a long, powerful kiss filled with more urgency than passion. The instant he tasted the familiar flavor of her, Slocum wrapped his arms around Anna’s waist and felt her thin frame melt against him.
Several parts of his body responded as if it had only been a matter of hours since the last time he’d felt Anna’s naked flesh beneath his searching hands. However, he forced himself to take her slender arms in his grip and push her back a few steps. She looked at him with surprise and a hint of fear when he snapped, “What the hell are you doing?”
“I was worried about you, John.”
“There wasn’t a soul out there when I faced those other two men. Where were you that you could see what was going on so well?”
“I couldn’t see it. Otherwise, I would have found you sooner.”
“How did you find me at all?” he asked.
“Bess told me you were at her restaurant. Don’t you remember? That was the place where we first met each other.”
Slocum let go of her, suddenly feeling a bit of shame for handling her so roughly. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I remember. It’s been a long night. Sorry about speaking so cross to you just now.”
Although she rubbed her arms where he’d grabbed her, Anna quickly stopped so as not to make him feel any worse and said, “I understand. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. Those two that came after me couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn if their lives depended on it.”
“That was Matt and Luke. They probably thought they could sneak up and shoot you in the back while you were still eating.”
“So you know them?” Slocum asked.
She nodded. “Not very well, but I’ve seen them here and there. Usually, they just collect on debts and such for Mr. Dawson.”
“I’ve heard that name a lot since I’ve been in town. Who the hell is Mr. Dawson and why is he connected to a couple of assholes who tried to take a shot at me when I was still picking supper from my teeth?”
“It’s best you don’t worry about him,” she replied. “Just do whatever you need to do quickly and put this town behind you.”
Slocum shook his head. “I’m not about to do that. Not after all the trouble I went through to clean these streets the first time.”
“You did more than any of us had a right to ask. As for what happened after you left . . . that’s not your fault.”
“Whose fault was it? What the hell happened anyway?”
Outside, a horse rode up to the hotel and came to a stop. Since Anna was already mostly inside the barn, Slocum pulled her the rest of the way inside and wrapped his arms around her to keep her in place. Although Anna struggled a little, it was mostly to regain her footing instead of genuinely trying to get away from him.
“Shh,” Slocum whispered almost directly into her ear. Opening the door a crack, he used a finger to point at the rider that was now climbing down from the horse. “Do you know who that is?”
“No,” she replied. “Can’t hardly see from here.”
There was a chance that the rider was just another weary soul looking for a place to rest after coming in from the desert. Then again, judging by the way he stomped toward the Three Star’s front door, it seemed more likely that he had some manner of urgent business inside.
“Stay put,” Slocum whispered. “I want to take a look.”
“No,” Anna said insistently. She planted her feet and positioned himself in front of him to act as a barrier between Slocum and the outside world. “He’s probably got something to do with those other two who came after you. It might even be Matt or Luke looking to take another shot at you.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to get closer and see for myself.”
Anna started to protest, but Slocum quieted her the same way she’d quieted him a few moments ago. Pulling her in, he gave her a kiss that quickly turned into a lingering, passionate embrace. Their hands moved along each other’s bodies as if they already knew right where they wanted to go. Her arms cinched in tighter around him and she even moaned softly as Slocum’s tongue found its way into her mouth. When his hands brushed against her hips, she pulled in an expectant breath only to let it out when he pulled away.
“Come with me,” she said.
“Stay here. I may take you up on that offer when I come back.”
“If you come back.”
“After all that happened before,” Slocum said, “you think someone can just ride up and kill me so easily?”
“This isn’t like when Jeremiah Hartley was here. This is something different.”
“Care to tell me about it?”
Reluctantly, she replied, “Come with me right now and I will.”
“Sorry, but the longer I wait right now, the less chance I have of getting there and back without being seen. You sit tight and don’t make a sound. Be ready to move the moment I come back. Is there a way we can go that doesn’t take us past that hotel?”
“Yes.”
“Then be ready to show it to me real soon.” With that, Slocum gave her a playful swat on the backside as he left the barn with quick, silent steps.
He stayed low and moved forward swiftly. Slocum kept his chin up and was always careful to stay in as much darkness as he could find. The Three Star was a good size and he could see plenty of movement behind some of the windows that were still lit by candles or lanterns within their rooms. Most of them were on the third floor, which made sense because apparently those were all rented for the night.
It didn’t take long for him to get to the main building, but Slocum felt a knot in his stomach as if he was about to be discovered. He reached the side of the hotel and did his best not to make any noise as he caught his breath. In those moments, he could hear bits of conversation from inside.
The rider stood at the front door and had either left it open or was so close to it that his voice carried outside. Of course, it didn’t help that he spoke in a bellowing tone.
“What room is he in?” the rider asked.
Margaret answered in a firm, solid tone. “He’s one of my guests. I don’t answer to you.”
“The hell you don’t, bitch. Tell me what I want to know before I slap that ugly face of yours.”
When he heard that language directed at her, Slocum leaned in as if to grab the rider, but stopped himself before touching him. He waited to see what would happen next.
Perhaps Margaret saw what was transpiring behind the rider, because she relaxed a bit as she said, “It’s written on my ledger, clear as day. I’m running a business, not trying to hide anything.”
“Just tell me, damn it.”
She crossed her arms and stood her ground. “I’m tired of being shoved around by the likes of you. Just because you’re in good with Mr. Dawson, you and the rest of your ilk think you can do as you please. We’ve survived one mad dog tyrant in this town and we’ll survive another.”
“I don’t even know what the hell you’re going on about,” the rider snarled as he tromped inside. “What I do know is that you’ll be sorry the moment I—”
He made it all of three steps before Slocum rushed up behind him, grabbed him by the collar, and hauled him straight back outside. Margaret remained still. A satisfied little smirk crept onto her face.
But Slocum wasn’t about to stay in that hotel long enough to see it. He’d caught the rider off his guard and pressed his advantage as far as he could by dragging the man outside on his heels. The rider didn’t even get a chance to struggle until he was being forced to the edge of the hotel’s porch and shoved off its side. He yelped when his flailing legs had nothing beneath them, but the sound was cut short when his body landed on the ground and most of the wind was driven from his lungs.
Standing over the rider like impending doom, Slocum growled, “Who were you looking for?”
The rider was having a hard time sucking in a breath and his hands slapped frantically at his holster without having the necessary coordination to draw the gun he wore.
Slocum knocked the rider flat onto his back with a short kick and then dropped his other boot squarely down on the man’s wrist, pinning it in place so that hand couldn’t get any closer to his pistol. “You’re so ready to talk tough to a lady, why don’t you do the same to me right now?”
“I’ll do more than talk!” the rider swore.
“Go on, then. Make your move.”
All Slocum had to do to keep the rider in place was stare directly into his eyes. Pretty soon, the other man lost the head of steam he’d built up thus far. Now that the rider had calmed down somewhat, Slocum asked, “Who were you looking for?”
“Some fella new in town.”
“What’s his name?”
“Slocum,” the rider said as he squinted in the darkness at the man directly in front of him. “Somethin’ tells me you know who that is.”
“Who wants to find him so badly?”
“Mr. Dawson.”
“Who’s that?” Slocum asked.
The rider spat out part of a laugh as he settled in to become a bit too comfortable. “You wanna meet him? Just go on into that there hotel and march up to the third floor. He owns the whole damn thing. In fact, I’ll make the introductions myself. I’d love to see the look on your face when you’re taken apart and tossed out like so much tr—”
Slocum ended the conversation with a punch that was more like a hammer driving the rider’s head into the ground. He leaned down to put all of his weight behind the blow as his knuckles pounded against the other man’s nose. Cartilage was mashed against bone and the back of the rider’s head knocked against the ground, putting the man’s lights out completely.
The first thing Slocum did was drag the body into the thick shadows alongside the hotel. He then stooped down to check on the extent of the damage he’d done. The rider wasn’t going to be getting up anytime soon, but he wasn’t going to die either. Slocum shook the pain from his hand and hurried back to the stable.