A Vixen’s Tale

He was sitting at that railway station, exhausted, when he felt someone place a hand on his shoulder.

 Jesse Welsh did not move.

 The train had been gone twenty minutes, leaving behind smoke, dust, and the stink of hot iron. Another would come tomorrow afternoon. Until then, Jesse had nowhere particular to be and no great desire to find somewhere.

 His horse was boarded across the street. His Winchester was wrapped in canvas beside him. His revolver remained beneath his coat, exactly where it had been for most of the last seventeen years.

 The hand remained on his shoulder.

 Jesse looked at it.

 A woman’s hand.

 No glove. Pale fingers. A silver ring on the middle one.

 He knew that ring.

 He closed his eyes.

 “Of all the damned railway stations.”

 “Hello, Jesse.”

 He opened his eyes and turned.

 Riley Vixen stood behind him.

 Seven years disappeared without asking his permission.

 Her red hair was pinned beneath a small black hat. A few loose strands had escaped around her face. She wore a dark green dress beneath a fitted traveling coat, though Jesse knew immediately she had not come to travel. There was no bag. No trunk. No ticket in her hand.

 She had come for him.

 Riley looked older.

 So did he.

 Neither condition had done much harm.

 “You look terrible,” she said.

 “Been riding.”

 “For seven years?”

 Jesse looked back toward the empty tracks.

 “Some of them.”

 Her hand left his shoulder.

 He regretted that immediately.

 “How did you know I was here?”

 “Gespee Falls has a railway station, Jesse. Not a cathedral. People notice when a bounty hunter gets off the train carrying a rifle and looking half dead.”

 “I’m not half dead.”

 “You always were optimistic.”

 He almost smiled.

 Almost.

 Beyond the station, Gespee Falls stretched beneath the afternoon sun. The town had grown since Jesse had last seen it. New buildings stood along Main Street. Telegraph poles followed the road. The Drexel Silver Company had built a large processing shed near the northern edge of town, and the distant hills had been cut with new roads leading toward the mines.

 Silver had been good to Gespee Falls.

 Jesse suspected it had been considerably better to some people than others.

 “You missed your train,” Riley said.

 “Didn’t miss it.”

 “You were sitting here when it left.”

 “That’s different.”

 “How?”

 “I decided not to get on.”

 Riley folded her arms.

 “Why?”

 Jesse looked at her.

 He could have lied.

 He had become good at lying about certain things.

 “Too tired.”

 That answer disappointed her. He could see it.

 She had hoped he might say something else.

 Perhaps he had hoped so too.

 Riley sat beside him.

 The wooden bench was not particularly large. Her skirt touched his leg. Jesse shifted slightly.

 Riley noticed.

 “You afraid of me now?”

 “Always was.”

 “That would explain several things.”

 There it was.

 Seven years sitting between them.

 Jesse rubbed the stubble along his jaw.

 “Riley.”

 “No.”

 “I haven’t said anything.”

 “I know what you’re going to say.”

 “That’s a useful talent.”

 “You’ve been gone seven years. I had time to practice.”

 Jesse studied her face.

 There had been nights during those seven years when he had remembered that face with uncomfortable clarity. Usually when he was alone. Usually when there was whiskey involved. Occasionally when there was another woman sleeping beside him, which made the remembering considerably worse.

 “How have you been?” he asked.

 Riley stared at him.

 “That’s what you’ve got?”

 “It’s a start.”

 “No, Jesse. It isn’t.”

 He accepted that.

 A wagon rolled past the station. Two miners sat up front, both covered in gray dust. One recognized Jesse and gave him a long look.

 Jesse watched until the wagon passed.

 “You’re still at the Silver Belle?”

 “I am.”

 “Pearl still running it?”

 “Pearl Silverton will run that saloon until Satan himself comes through the doors and asks for the deed.”

 “She’d charge him for a drink first.”

 “Double.”

 Jesse finally smiled.

 Riley did too.

 That was worse.

 For one dangerous moment they were younger.

 Then Riley’s smile disappeared.

 “I need your help.”

 Jesse had known it was coming.

 Riley Vixen had never been a woman who waited at railway stations hoping to encounter men by accident.

 “What happened?”

 “My cousin is dead.”

 Jesse straightened.

 “Amanda?”

 Riley nodded.

 He remembered Amanda Cotton as a skinny sixteen-year-old who had stolen cigars from Pearl’s customers and blamed Jesse whenever she got caught.

 “When?”

 “Six days ago.”

 “How?”

 “They found her behind the freight warehouse.”

 Jesse waited.

 Riley looked toward the tracks.

 “Someone broke her neck.”

 The warmth went out of the afternoon.

 “I’m sorry.”

 “So is everyone.”

 Something in her voice stopped him.

 “What does that mean?”

 “It means everybody is sorry. Pearl is sorry. Fred is sorry. Deputy Peters is sorry. Harry Portman is sorry. Even Sheriff Jackson managed to look sorry for nearly five minutes.”

 “And?”

 “And nobody is doing anything.”

 Jesse leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees.

 “What did Jackson say?”

 “That Amanda left the Silver Belle after midnight. She was seen with a man. There was drinking involved. He thinks she argued with whoever she was meeting and things turned violent.”

 “Who was the man?”

 “He doesn’t know.”

 “Then how does he know there was a man?”

 Riley looked at him.

 “Now you’re beginning to understand.”

 Jesse’s eyes narrowed.

 “Jackson close the investigation?”

 “Near enough.”

 “What does Fred think?”

 “Fred thinks Cal Richards killed her.”

 That name Jesse knew.

 “Mine foreman?”

 “Still is.”

 “Why Richards?”

 “They argued two nights before Amanda died.”

 “About?”

 “She wouldn’t tell Fred.”

 “Would she tell you?”

 Riley hesitated.

 That was answer enough.

 Jesse turned toward her.

 “What aren’t you telling me?”

 Riley reached inside her coat.

 Jesse heard paper.

 She produced a folded envelope, worn from being opened more than once.

 “My name was written on this. Pearl found it beneath Amanda’s mattress.”

 Jesse took it.

 Inside was a single sheet of paper.

 There were no sentences.

 Only numbers.

 Dates.

 Weights.

 Railcar numbers.

 And names.

 Drexel.

 Richards.

 Shaw.

 At the bottom Amanda had written three words.

 Silver leaves twice.

 Jesse read them again.

 “What’s this?”

 “I don’t know.”

 “Did Amanda ever mention Vincent Shaw?”

 “No.”

 “Damien Drexel?”

 “Everybody mentions Drexel. Half this town eats because of him.”

 “And the other half?”

 “Drinks because of him.”

 Jesse folded the paper.

 “Have you shown this to Jackson?”

 “No.”

 “Why?”

 “Because Amanda didn’t leave it for Jackson.”

 She looked directly at him.

 “She left it for me.”

 Jesse handed the letter back.

 “You should give it to the sheriff.”

 “I came to you.”

 “I’m not a lawman.”

 “No. You’re a man who finds people.”

 “Bounties.”

 “People who don’t want to be found.”

 “Usually because there’s money involved.”

 “I have money.”

 Jesse looked at her sharply.

 “Don’t.”

 “I didn’t ask you to work for free.”

 “Don’t offer me money.”

 “Then don’t make me beg.”

 Her voice broke slightly.

 It was the first weakness she had allowed him to see.

 Jesse looked away.

 Damn her.

 Damn Gespee Falls.

 Damn Amanda Cotton for writing three words on a piece of paper that made no sense.

 Most of all, damn the part of him that had already decided.

 “I need to see where she died.”

 Riley said nothing.

 Jesse stood and picked up his Winchester.

 “You heard me.”

 “I did.”

 “Then why are you staring?”

 “I’m enjoying this.”

 “What?”

 “You pretending you had a choice.”

 Jesse slung the rifle over his shoulder.

 “Seven years hasn’t made you any less irritating.”

 “No.”

 She stood.

 “But it has made you grayer.”

 Jesse touched the hair near his temple.

 “That’s why I left.”

 Riley’s expression changed.

 The humor vanished.

 “Don’t joke about why you left.”

 Jesse lowered his hand.

 For several seconds neither spoke.

 There were some wounds a man could survive because nobody touched them.

 “I’ll find who killed Amanda,” he said.

 Riley stepped closer.

 “And then?”

 “Then what?”

 “What will you do when you’ve found him?”

 Jesse looked toward Gespee Falls.

 A church bell sounded somewhere beyond Main Street. Horses moved between buildings. Men were coming down from the mines. The Silver Belle would soon be filling.

 Somewhere among those people was a murderer.

 Maybe more than one.

 “I’ll decide when I find him.”

 Riley nodded.

 She started toward town.

 Jesse followed.

 They had gone perhaps twenty yards when Riley stopped.

 “What?”

 She was staring across the tracks.

 A man stood beside the freight warehouse.

 Tall.

 Black coat.

 Black hat.

 He was watching them.

 Jesse knew the posture before he knew the face.

 A gunman’s posture.

 “Friend of yours?” Jesse asked.

 “No.”

 The man tipped his hat.

 Then he disappeared behind the warehouse.

 Riley looked at Jesse.

 “Who was that?”

 Jesse’s hand settled near his revolver.

 “Boone Walker.”

 “You know him?”

 “By reputation.”

 “Good reputation?”

 Jesse started walking toward the tracks.

 “No.”

 Riley hurried after him.

 “What kind?”

 Jesse kept his eyes on the warehouse.

 “The kind men usually don’t live long enough to complain about.”

Boone Walker was gone by the time Jesse reached the freight warehouse.

 That did not surprise him.

 Men like Boone rarely waited around after making certain they had been noticed.

 Jesse stepped around the corner of the building and stopped.

 Nothing.

 A narrow lane ran between the warehouse and a row of storage sheds. Beyond them stood the railway water tower and several freight cars waiting on a siding. Two laborers were loading crates onto a wagon farther down. Neither appeared concerned.

 Riley came around the corner behind him.

 “Where is he?”

 “Gone.”

 “I can see that.”

 “Then why’d you ask?”

 “Because I hoped bounty hunting had given you the ability to see through buildings.”

 “It hasn’t.”

 “Seems a disappointing profession.”

 Jesse crouched.

 The ground was dry enough to hold little more than disturbed dust, but there were boot marks near the wall.

 Riley leaned over him.

 “What are you looking at?”

 “Boot prints.”

 “Those?”

 “Yes.”

 “There must be five hundred boot prints around this station.”

 “Probably.”

 “And you know which ones belong to Boone Walker?”

 “No.”

 Riley stared at him.

 Jesse stood.

 “But you looked impressed for a moment.”

 “I was considering kicking you.”

 “That too.”

 He walked toward the back of the warehouse.

 Riley followed.

 “You really know him?”

 “Met him once.”

 “When?”

 “Three years ago. Territory north of Santa Fe.”

 “What happened?”

 “He was looking for a man.”

 “So were you?”

 “Same man.”

 “Who found him?”

 “I did.”

 Riley smiled.

 “I suppose Boone didn’t like that.”

 “Boone didn’t care. He wasn’t collecting a bounty.”

 That removed her smile.

 “What was he collecting?”

 Jesse looked at her.

 “A body.”

 They continued toward town.

 Gespee Falls had changed enough to irritate him.

 Jesse remembered a town of perhaps six hundred people gathered around a muddy road with a church, a smithy, two hotels, and enough saloons to ensure none of the miners ever accidentally died sober.

 Silver had changed everything.

 Main Street was wider now. Boardwalks lined both sides. Brick had begun replacing timber. Telegraph wire crossed above the rooftops. Wagons loaded with ore rolled toward the processing works while merchants shouted from storefronts.

 The Silver Belle had changed too.

 It was larger.

 Considerably larger.

 Jesse stopped in front of it.

 “Pearl’s done well.”

 “Pearl doesn’t gamble.”

 “She owns a saloon.”

 “Exactly.”

 Music drifted through the doors.

 Riley climbed the steps.

 Jesse remained in the street.

 She turned.

 “What?”

 “Nothing.”

 “You’re staring.”

 “I remember that window.”

 Riley followed his gaze toward the second floor.

 Her expression softened.

 “You should.”

 Jesse regretted saying anything.

 Seven years earlier he had climbed through that window at two in the morning because Pearl Silverton had threatened to shoot him if she caught him upstairs.

 Pearl had caught him.

 She had also shot at him.

 Riley stepped through the doors.

 Jesse followed.

 The Silver Belle smelled exactly as it should.

 Whiskey. Tobacco. Lamp oil. Sawdust.

 Home, if a man had made several poor decisions.

 The room was still preparing for the evening crowd. Chairs were being taken down from tables. A piano player sat in one corner testing keys. Two women carried bottles from behind the bar.

 Pearl Silverton stood beneath the stairs.

 She saw Jesse.

 Stopped.

 Then walked directly toward him.

 Jesse removed his hat.

 “Pearl.”

 She slapped him.

 Hard.

 The piano stopped.

 Riley leaned against the bar.

 Jesse rubbed his cheek.

 “Good seeing you too.”

 Pearl hugged him.

 That hurt almost as much.

 She was past fifty now, though Jesse knew better than to guess how far. Her dark hair carried more gray than he remembered, and there were lines around her eyes. Otherwise, Pearl Silverton remained exactly what she had always been.

 A woman no sensible man underestimated twice.

 “You bastard,” she said.

 “I’ve been called worse.”

 “Not by me.”

 “No.”

 She released him.

 Her expression changed.

 “Riley told you?”

 “Some.”

 Pearl looked toward Riley.

 “I told him enough.”

 “Apparently enough to keep him from running.”

 Jesse put his hat back on.

 “I wasn’t running.”

 Pearl and Riley looked at him.

 “Fine.”

 Pearl nodded toward the stairs.

 “Her room hasn’t been touched.”

 Jesse followed her.

 Riley came behind him.

 Amanda’s room was at the end of the second-floor hall.

 Pearl unlocked it.

 “I kept everyone out.”

 “Sheriff?”

 “He came once.”

 “How long?”

 “Maybe ten minutes.”

 Jesse looked at her.

 “Ten?”

 “That’s generous.”

 Pearl opened the door.

 Amanda Cotton had lived small.

 Bed.

 Washstand.

 Dresser.

 One chair beside the window.

 Several dresses hung from hooks along the wall. A pair of boots stood neatly beneath them.

 A small mirror sat above the washstand.

 Jesse entered alone at first.

 He did not touch anything.

 There were ways to search a room.

 Most men began by opening drawers.

 Jesse began by looking at what had been left behind.

 A hairbrush.

 A tin containing face powder.

 Two dime novels beside the bed.

 A sewing kit.

 A photograph.

 Jesse picked it up.

 Amanda stood beside Riley and Fred Cotton in front of the Silver Belle. Amanda was smiling.

 She had grown into a pretty woman.

 “How old?”

 “Twenty-three,” Riley said.

 Jesse put the photograph down.

 “You said Pearl found the paper beneath the mattress?”

 “Yes.”

 “Show me.”

 Riley lifted one corner.

 Jesse crouched.

 There was a tear in the fabric underneath.

 He touched it.

 “Pearl.”

 “What?”

 “You find this?”

 She came closer.

 “No.”

 Jesse pulled gently.

 The tear widened.

 Something had been sewn into the underside of the mattress.

 He reached inside.

 Empty.

 Riley crouched beside him.

 “What was there?”

 “Don’t know.”

 “Someone took it?”

 “Looks that way.”

 Pearl folded her arms.

 “Jackson?”

 “Maybe.”

 Jesse stood.

 He opened the dresser.

 Nothing unusual.

 Second drawer.

 Clothing.

 Third.

 More clothing.

 He closed it.

 Then opened it again.

 “What’s wrong?” Riley asked.

 Jesse removed the drawer entirely.

 He turned it over.

 A small piece of paper had been wedged beneath the wooden bottom.

 Riley moved closer.

 Jesse unfolded it.

 One number had been written there.

 33.

 “Thirty-three?” Riley said.

 “Mean anything?”

 “No.”

 Pearl shook her head.

 Jesse examined the paper.

 Amanda had hidden one paper beneath her mattress and another beneath a drawer.

 A frightened woman did that.

 Or a careful one.

 Maybe both.

 “Where did Amanda spend her last night?”

 “Here,” Pearl said.

 “Working?”

 “Until eleven.”

 “Then?”

 “She went upstairs.”

 “You saw her?”

 Pearl hesitated.

 “She came back down around midnight.”

 “Dressed?”

 “Yes.”

 “For work?”

 “No.”

 Riley frowned.

 “You never told me that.”

 “I didn’t think it mattered.”

 “It matters now,” Jesse said. “What was she wearing?”

 “Blue dress. Gray coat.”

 “Did she say where she was going?”

 “No.”

 “Was she frightened?”

 Pearl considered it.

 “Not frightened.”

 “What?”

 “Angry.”

 Jesse nodded.

 “Did she leave alone?”

 “Yes.”

 “Anyone follow her?”

 “I don’t know.”

 Jesse walked toward the window.

 From Amanda’s room he could see most of Main Street.

 The sheriff’s office.

 The bank.

 The railway station in the distance.

 And beyond the rooftops, the Drexel works.

 Riley stood beside him.

 “What are you thinking?”

 “That Amanda didn’t stumble into something.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “She was writing down railcar numbers. Shipment weights. Names. She hid papers around her room. She left here after midnight angry enough to meet somebody.”

 “You think she knew?”

 “I think Amanda was investigating something before anybody else knew there was something to investigate.”

 A knock sounded downstairs.

 Then voices.

 One of them carried up the stairwell.

 Male.

 Authoritative.

 Pearl swore quietly.

 Jesse looked at her.

 “Who?”

 “Sheriff.”

 Footsteps came up the stairs.

 Sheriff Gabe Jackson appeared in the doorway.

 He was broader than Jesse remembered. His beard had gone almost completely gray, but his eyes remained sharp.

 Jackson stopped when he saw Jesse.

 “Well.”

 Jesse nodded.

 “Gabe.”

 “I heard you’d crawled back into town.”

 “Railroad brought me.”

 “Shame.”

 Jackson looked at Riley.

 Then at the open dresser.

 His expression hardened.

 “What are you doing?”

 “Looking.”

 “This isn’t your business.”

 “Riley asked me.”

 “I didn’t.”

 Jesse smiled faintly.

 “That’s probably why I’m helping her.”

 Jackson stepped into the room.

 “Amanda Cotton’s death is being handled.”

 “By who?”

 “Me.”

 “Then why’s her room still full of evidence?”

 Jackson’s jaw tightened.

 “Careful, Jesse.”

 “Always.”

 “No. You weren’t.”

 The room went quiet.

 Riley looked between them.

 Jackson moved closer.

 “You haven’t been in Gespee Falls seven years. You don’t know this town anymore.”

 “Maybe.”

 “You don’t know these people.”

 “Maybe.”

 “And you sure as hell don’t know what you’re walking into.”

 Jesse’s eyes settled on him.

 That was an interesting choice of words.

 “Then tell me.”

 Jackson said nothing.

 Jesse reached into his pocket and removed the paper.

 He held it up.

 “What’s thirty-three?”

 Jackson’s face changed.

 Only for a second.

 But Jesse saw it.

 So did Riley.

 Jackson looked at the number.

 Then at Jesse.

 “Where did you find that?”

 Jesse folded the paper.

 “In a room you searched.”

 Jackson stepped forward.

 “Give it to me.”

 “No.”

 “That’s evidence.”

 “You just said the case was being handled.”

 “Give me the paper.”

 Jesse slipped it into his coat.

 Jackson’s hand moved toward his gun.

 Riley stepped between them.

 “Don’t.”

 Neither man moved.

 Then another voice came from the hallway.

 “Sheriff.”

 Deputy Aden Peters stood there, breathing hard.

 Jackson turned.

 “What?”

 Aden looked at Jesse, then Riley.

 “We’ve got another body.”

 Nobody spoke.

 “Who?” Jackson asked.

 Aden swallowed.

 “Miner named Lucas Bell.”

 Jesse watched Jackson carefully.

 “Where?”

 “Old Drexel shaft.”

 Aden hesitated.

 “He was carrying something.”

 Jackson’s eyes narrowed.

 “What?”

 “A silver bar.”

 Jesse felt Riley’s fingers close around his arm.

 Aden looked directly at him.

 “It had the number thirty-three stamped into it.”

Nobody spoke for several seconds.

Sheriff Gabe Jackson finally looked at Deputy Aden Peters.

"Who else knows?"

"About the body?"

"The silver."

Aden hesitated.

Jesse noticed.

"So somebody knows," Jackson said.

"Fred Cotton."

Jackson shut his eyes.

"Of course he does."

"He was working the eastern cut when one of the miners found Bell."

"And where is Fred now?"

"Heading toward the old shaft."

Jackson swore and pushed past Aden.

Jesse followed.

Jackson stopped in the hallway.

"You stay here."

"Didn't work seven years ago."

"It wasn't a suggestion."

Jesse walked past him.

Riley followed Jesse.

Jackson pointed at her.

"You stay."

Riley stopped.

Jesse kept walking.

"That might work even worse."

"Welsh."

Jesse turned.

Jackson's face had hardened.

"You interfere with my investigation, I'll put you in a cell."

"You have an investigation now?"

Aden looked at the floor.

Jackson stepped closer.

"Keep pushing."

Jesse met his eyes.

"I haven't started."

He went downstairs.

Riley was beside him before they reached the street.

"You enjoy irritating him."

"Never said I didn't."

"Is that why he hates you?"

"No."

"Why does he?"

"Long story."

"We have a walk."

Jesse looked toward the northern hills.

"Not that long."

They crossed Main Street.

Aden hurried from the Silver Belle behind them.

"Welsh!"

Jesse stopped.

The deputy approached and lowered his voice.

"Jackson isn't going to let you near the body."

"Then I suppose I should get there before Jackson."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

Aden looked back toward the saloon.

"You really found thirty-three in Amanda's room?"

Jesse studied him.

"Why?"

"Because Bell had something else."

"What?"

Aden reached inside his coat.

He produced a small cloth pouch.

"You're stealing evidence now?"

"I haven't given it to the sheriff yet."

"That's a very generous definition of stealing."

Aden handed him the pouch.

Inside was a brass railway seal.

Jesse turned it over.

Stamped into one side were the letters V.S.

Riley saw them.

"Vincent Shaw."

"Maybe," Jesse said.

Aden nodded.

"Freight office uses seals like that."

Jesse handed it back.

"Where was it?"

"Bell's pocket."

"Anything else?"

"Six dollars. Tobacco. Matchbook from the Silver Belle."

Riley frowned.

"I don't remember him."

"Neither do I," Aden said.

Jesse looked at the deputy.

"Who found him?"

"Two miners. Orson and Tate."

"They move anything?"

"They say no."

"Believe them?"

"I don't know."

"Good answer."

Aden slipped the pouch into his coat.

Riley looked at him.

"Why are you helping us?"

The young deputy glanced toward the saloon again.

"Because Amanda came to the sheriff's office three days before she died."

Riley froze.

"What?"

Jesse said nothing.

Aden continued.

"She asked to speak privately with Jackson."

"About what?"

"I don't know. He closed the door."

"How long?"

"Twenty minutes."

Riley's face reddened.

"And nobody thought to tell me?"

"I wasn't there when she died."

"You were there when she came in."

"Riley."

"No. Everybody in this town knows something after Amanda is dead."

Aden accepted the anger.

Jesse touched Riley's elbow.

She pulled away.

He let her.

"What happened after Amanda met Jackson?" Jesse asked.

"She left."

"Upset?"

"Yes."

"Angry?"

"Very."

That matched Pearl's description.

Jesse looked north.

"Let's see Bell."

The old Drexel shaft sat nearly two miles outside Gespee Falls.

The three rode.

Jesse had retrieved his horse from the livery, an aging buckskin gelding named Bishop who appeared offended by nearly everything Jesse asked him to do.

Riley rode a gray mare.

Aden led them along an old mining road cut through dry scrub and broken stone.

"You still ride well," Jesse said.

Riley looked across at him.

"You sound surprised."

"Didn't say I was."

"You used to complain."

"You used to ride too fast."

"I still do."

"I noticed."

She urged her mare ahead.

Jesse watched her.

That was a mistake.

He looked back at the road.

Riley had always possessed a talent for making him forget whatever sensible thought he had been considering.

Apparently seven years had not cured it.

Aden glanced at him.

Jesse noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Keep it that way."

The deputy smiled.

They reached the old shaft shortly afterward.

Several horses stood outside.

Miners had gathered near the entrance.

Fred Cotton was among them.

Jesse recognized him immediately.

Fred had been a lanky boy when Jesse left. He had become a large man with heavy shoulders and hands permanently stained by mine work.

He saw Riley first.

Then Jesse.

His expression changed.

"You."

Jesse dismounted.

"Fred."

Fred crossed the distance between them.

Riley moved quickly.

"Fred."

Her cousin ignored her.

"You come back for her?"

Jesse looked at him.

"Not the time."

"Answer me."

"Fred."

Riley grabbed his arm.

Fred pulled free.

"My sister's dead, and he walks back into town?"

"That's why he's here."

Fred stared at her.

"You asked him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because somebody has to find out what happened."

Fred pointed toward town.

"We know what happened. Cal Richards killed her."

"Do you know that?" Jesse asked.

Fred turned.

"I know enough."

"Then tell me."

"Go to hell."

"I've been. Too warm."

Fred stepped closer.

Jesse did not.

"Cal threatened her," Fred said.

"When?"

"Week before she died."

"Why?"

"She'd been asking questions at the mine."

"What questions?"

"Shipments."

Jesse glanced at Riley.

"About silver?"

"What else comes out of a silver mine?"

"Dead men, apparently."

Fred's anger faded slightly.

He looked toward the shaft.

"Bell worked the night crew."

"Doing what?"

"Ore cart."

"Why was he in an abandoned shaft?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

Jesse approached the entrance.

A lantern hung from a timber brace.

The tunnel beyond descended into darkness.

"Where's Richards?"

Fred's jaw tightened.

"Main mine."

"Does he know about Bell?"

"By now."

Jesse took the lantern.

Riley followed.

He turned.

"No."

"No?"

"Stay outside."

Riley stared at him.

"I brought you into this."

"And I appreciate it."

"Jesse."

"There's a dead man underground."

"I know what dead means."

"I remember."

Something passed between them.

He remembered Riley's father.

She knew he remembered.

"I am going," she said.

Jesse sighed.

"Fine."

They entered together.

The temperature dropped quickly.

Their footsteps carried through the shaft.

Old support beams held the earth above them. Some had split with age.

Jesse raised the lantern.

"Watch where you step."

Riley stayed close.

"You always become commanding underground?"

"Only when several thousand tons of mountain are above me."

"Comforting."

"You're welcome."

Aden led them another fifty yards.

The body lay beside an abandoned ore cart.

Lucas Bell had died badly.

He was on his back, one arm beneath him. Blood had dried across his shirt.

Jesse crouched.

"Shot?"

Aden nodded.

"Once."

Jesse examined the wound.

Close range.

Bell's coat was burned around the hole.

"He knew whoever did it."

"How do you know?" Riley asked.

"He let them close."

Jesse studied the ground.

Boot marks.

Cart tracks.

Something else.

A line through the dust.

He followed it.

The line ended against the wall.

Jesse raised the lantern.

A section of rock looked wrong.

He touched it.

Wood.

Covered with dirt.

"Help me."

Aden joined him.

They pulled.

The false wall shifted.

Cold air moved through the opening.

Behind it was another tunnel.

Riley stepped closer.

"That isn't abandoned."

No.

It wasn't.

Fresh wheel marks ran along the ground.

Jesse lifted the lantern higher.

The tracks disappeared into darkness.

Then he saw the silver.

A small piece of ore had fallen beside the rail.

Freshly broken.

"Someone's using the old mine," Aden said.

Jesse nodded.

Riley looked at him.

"Amanda knew."

"Looks that way."

"Silver leaves twice."

Jesse stared into the hidden tunnel.

"Once through Drexel's books."

"And once through here."

A sound came from behind them.

Jesse turned.

A gunshot filled the shaft.

The lantern exploded.

Darkness swallowed them.

Riley screamed.

Jesse grabbed her and pulled her down.

A second shot struck the timber above them.

"Aden!"

"I'm here!"

"Stay down."

Jesse drew his revolver.

He could see nothing.

Footsteps moved through the tunnel.

Fast.

Away from them.

Jesse listened.

Left.

He fired.

A grunt answered.

Then running.

Jesse rose.

"Stay with Aden."

"Jesse!"

He ran.

The tunnel was nearly black, but faint daylight showed ahead.

Whoever had fired knew the mine.

Jesse followed.

He reached a bend.

Daylight appeared through another opening.

He emerged onto the hillside.

A horse waited below.

A man climbed into the saddle.

Black coat.

Black hat.

"Walker!"

The rider looked back.

Boone Walker.

For a moment the two men stared at one another.

Boone smiled.

Then he rode.

Jesse raised his revolver.

He had the shot.

Maybe.

Two hundred yards.

Moving target.

He lowered the gun.

Boone disappeared around the ridge.

Riley emerged behind him.

"You let him go."

"I couldn't guarantee the shot."

"Since when has that stopped you?"

"Since you were standing behind him."

Riley looked toward the ridge.

Then back at Jesse.

She understood.

The hidden opening sat directly above the path she had taken from the mine.

Boone's line of fire would have placed her behind him.

Jesse holstered the revolver.

Riley stepped closer.

"You could have hit him."

"Probably."

"But you didn't."

"No."

Her eyes remained on his.

There were things Jesse had wanted to tell Riley Vixen for seven years.

None seemed particularly intelligent at the moment.

She touched his face.

Only briefly.

Her fingers brushed his cheek.

"You really are gray."

Jesse smiled.

"Keep talking."

She smiled back.

Then a voice came from the mine.

"Welsh!"

Aden.

Jesse turned.

The deputy came running from the opening.

"There's something you need to see."

They followed him back inside.

Aden had lit another lantern.

He stood beside Bell's body.

"What?"

Aden pointed toward Bell's hand.

The dead miner's fingers had been clenched around something.

During the shooting, his arm had shifted.

Now they could see it.

A strip of blue cloth.

Riley went pale.

Jesse noticed.

"What?"

She did not answer.

"Riley."

Her eyes remained fixed on the cloth.

"Amanda had a blue dress."

Jesse remembered Pearl's words.

Blue dress.

Gray coat.

The clothes Amanda had worn the night she died.

He crouched beside Bell.

The fabric had dried blood along one edge.

Riley's voice came quietly.

"Was Amanda here?"

Jesse looked into the hidden tunnel.

Fresh tracks disappeared into darkness.

He finally understood something that had bothered him since the station.

Amanda had not been murdered behind the freight warehouse.

That was only where they had found her.

He stood.

"No."

Riley looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

Jesse pointed toward the darkness.

"Amanda Cotton died down here."

Riley did not move.

The blue cloth remained in Lucas Bell's dead hand.

"Amanda died here?" she asked.

Jesse looked around the tunnel.

"I think so."

"You think?"

"I need to know more."

Riley stepped toward him.

"You just told me my cousin was murdered in this mine."

"I said I think she was."

"Then tell me why."

Jesse understood the anger. It was easier than grief.

He crouched beside Bell again.

"Blood."

Aden raised the lantern.

Jesse pointed toward the ground beneath the old ore cart.

There were dark stains between the rails.

Old stains.

"Bell's blood?" Aden asked.

"Some."

Jesse reached beneath the cart and scraped dirt away with two fingers.

More dark brown appeared.

"Not all."

Riley looked at the hidden passage.

"Amanda."

"Maybe."

Jesse stood.

He walked toward the false wall and examined the timber.

There was something caught against a nail.

A thread.

Blue.

He did not need to show Riley.

She saw it.

Her face tightened.

"She came down here."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"That's what we find out."

Aden looked toward the entrance.

"Sheriff will be here soon."

"Good."

"You two don't seem to agree on much."

"We agree that he's sheriff."

"That's about it?"

"So far."

Jesse returned to Bell.

The dead miner's right hand was clenched.

The left had held Amanda's cloth.

Jesse checked the man's pockets again.

Nothing.

He examined Bell's boots.

One heel was worn badly.

The other was newer.

Jesse pulled the newer boot off.

Something dropped onto the ground.

A key.

Aden picked it up.

Small.

Brass.

A number was stamped into it.

17.

"Railway locker," Aden said.

"You sure?"

"My father worked freight."

Jesse took the key.

"Then we're going back to town."

Riley stared at Bell.

"What about him?"

"Harry Portman needs to examine him."

"And Amanda?"

Jesse looked at her.

"We're going to find out exactly what happened to Amanda."

Sheriff Gabe Jackson arrived before they could leave.

He came with two men and a temper.

"What the hell happened?"

"Someone shot at us," Aden said.

Jackson looked at Jesse.

"Who?"

"Boone Walker."

Jackson's expression barely changed.

That interested Jesse.

"You know him?" Jesse asked.

"I know who he is."

"Didn't ask that."

Jackson walked past him.

He entered the hidden passage and studied the tracks.

"How long has this been here?"

"Long enough to get a man killed," Jesse said.

Jackson turned.

"I wasn't asking you."

"Nobody else answered."

Riley stepped forward.

"Amanda died here."

Jackson looked at her.

"Who told you that?"

"I did," Jesse said.

Jackson's eyes hardened.

"Based on what?"

Jesse showed him the thread caught on the timber.

Then the stains.

Then Bell's hand.

Jackson stared at the blue cloth.

He knew.

Jesse saw it.

"You recognize it."

"No."

"You hesitated."

"I've been sheriff twenty-one years. I hesitate before I speak."

"You ought to try it more."

"Jesse," Riley warned.

Jackson stepped close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.

"You keep treating this like one of your bounties."

"Dead woman. Dead miner. Hidden silver tunnel. Hired gun shooting at people. Seems worth taking seriously."

"You don't know what's happening."

"Then tell me."

Jackson looked toward Riley.

For the first time, something besides anger entered his face.

Concern.

"Go home, Riley."

"No."

"Go back to the Silver Belle."

"No."

"This isn't something you want mixed up in."

"My cousin is dead."

"I know."

"Then stop telling me to go home."

Jackson said nothing.

Riley moved closer.

"Amanda came to see you three days before she died."

Jackson looked at Aden.

The deputy lowered his eyes.

"You tell them that?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because she's dead."

Jackson stared at his deputy.

Then he looked at Jesse.

"Amanda came to me because she believed silver was being stolen from Drexel."

Riley's voice was quiet.

"You knew?"

"I knew what she suspected."

"And you did nothing."

"I checked."

"What did you find?"

"Nothing."

Jesse looked into the hidden tunnel.

"You didn't check very hard."

Jackson's jaw tightened.

"Amanda wouldn't tell me where she got her information."

"Why?"

"She was protecting someone."

That caught Jesse's attention.

"Who?"

"She wouldn't say."

"Bell?"

"I don't know."

Jesse watched him carefully.

"You think Bell was Amanda's source."

"I think Bell knew something."

"Enough to die for."

Jackson looked at the corpse.

"Apparently."

Riley folded her arms.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because Amanda asked me not to."

"She's dead."

"I noticed."

Riley slapped him.

The sound carried through the tunnel.

Nobody moved.

Jackson touched his cheek.

Jesse almost admired him for not reacting.

"Don't ever speak about her that way again," Riley said.

Jackson nodded once.

"Fair enough."

He turned to Aden.

"Get Portman."

Aden left.

Jesse slipped the brass key into his pocket.

Jackson noticed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Welsh."

"Twenty-one years as sheriff. You ought to know what nothing looks like."

Jesse walked out.

They returned to Gespee Falls near sunset.

Riley said little during the ride.

That concerned Jesse more than her anger.

When they reached town, he turned toward the railway depot.

Riley followed.

"You don't have to come."

"Stop saying that."

"I'm trying to be polite."

"It doesn't suit you."

They dismounted beside the station.

The platform was nearly empty.

Jesse entered the depot.

A clerk sat behind the counter reading a newspaper.

He lowered it.

"Help you?"

"Freight lockers."

"Around back."

Jesse walked away.

The clerk raised the paper again.

Riley followed Jesse outside.

"That was difficult."

"Frontier hospitality."

The lockers stood beneath an awning behind the station.

Jesse found seventeen.

He inserted the key.

The lock opened.

Inside was a small leather satchel.

Riley inhaled sharply.

"What?"

"I've seen that."

"Where?"

"Amanda's room."

Jesse removed it.

The satchel contained a ledger.

Several folded papers.

And a photograph.

Riley picked up the photograph.

Amanda Cotton stood beside Lucas Bell.

Bell had his arm around her waist.

Amanda was smiling.

Not the polite smile of a woman posing beside an acquaintance.

Riley sat on a crate.

"Oh, Amanda."

"You didn't know?"

She shook her head.

"Fred would have killed him."

"Why?"

"Lucas was married."

Jesse looked at the photograph again.

"Where's his wife?"

"Denver. She left him last year."

"Then why would Fred care?"

"Because Fred cares about everything Amanda did."

Jesse sat beside Riley.

"She was protecting Bell."

"From Fred?"

"Maybe everybody."

Riley ran her thumb across Amanda's face in the photograph.

"She should have told me."

"Maybe she wanted something that belonged only to her."

Riley looked at him.

"Is that what you told yourself?"

Jesse knew exactly what she meant.

"No."

"Good."

He looked toward the tracks.

The evening train was approaching in the distance.

"You could have told me you were leaving."

"I know."

"You could have said goodbye."

"I know."

"You could have written."

"I know."

"Do you have another answer?"

"No."

Riley looked down at the photograph.

"Seven years, Jesse."

"I counted."

That surprised her.

She looked at him.

"So did I."

The train whistle sounded.

Jesse wanted to touch her.

He did not.

Riley leaned slightly closer.

He could smell her perfume beneath the dust of the mine.

The same perfume.

Seven years.

Still the same.

"Why did you leave?" she asked.

Jesse looked at her.

"Because you wanted a husband."

"I wanted you."

"I wasn't much of a husband."

"You never gave me the chance to decide that."

"No."

"You decided for me."

"Yes."

"That was cowardly."

"Yes."

Riley frowned.

"Would you stop agreeing with me?"

"You're making good points."

She laughed despite herself.

Jesse smiled.

Her hand rested beside his on the crate.

Their fingers touched.

Neither moved away.

The train thundered into the station.

Steam rolled across the platform.

For a few seconds the world disappeared behind it.

Riley looked at him.

Jesse leaned toward her.

She did not retreat.

A gunshot shattered the depot window.

Jesse grabbed Riley and threw them both behind the crate.

Another shot struck the wall.

"Stay down."

"You really need another sentence."

Jesse drew his revolver.

Men shouted on the platform.

Passengers scattered.

Jesse looked around the crate.

A figure moved between two freight cars.

He fired.

The figure disappeared.

Jesse ran.

He crossed the tracks and reached the freight cars.

Nobody.

Then he heard Riley behind him.

"Jesse."

Something in her voice stopped him.

He returned.

Riley stood beside the open locker.

The leather satchel had fallen.

The ledger lay open.

One page had been torn out.

But that was not what Riley was staring at.

She held another folded paper.

Jesse took it.

Amanda's handwriting covered the page.

At the top was a name.

Vincent Shaw.

Beneath it Amanda had written:

Vincent says Drexel doesn't know. Cal doesn't know. Someone is changing the freight weights after the silver reaches the railway. Lucas will show me where they hide it tonight.

Jesse read further.

One final sentence had been added beneath the others.

The handwriting was hurried.

If anything happens to me, ask Vincent about Boone Walker.

Riley looked across the tracks.

"Vincent knows who killed her."

"Maybe."

"You still need more?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Amanda trusted Bell. Bell trusted whoever got close enough to shoot him."

Jesse folded the note.

"And Boone Walker isn't the kind of man who steals silver."

"What kind is he?"

"The kind somebody hires to make problems disappear."

Riley's expression changed.

"Amanda."

"And Bell."

Jesse looked toward the freight office.

The door stood open.

Light burned inside.

"Come on."

They crossed the tracks.

Jesse entered first.

"Shaw?"

No answer.

A chair had been overturned.

Papers covered the floor.

Riley entered behind him.

"Vincent?"

Jesse raised a hand.

Quiet.

He moved behind the counter.

Blood.

Not much.

Enough.

A trail crossed the floor toward the rear door.

Jesse followed it outside.

The alley was empty.

Something had been nailed to the door.

A playing card.

The ace of spades.

There was writing across its face.

Jesse pulled it free.

Riley read over his shoulder.

Stop digging.

Jesse turned the card over.

Two words were written on the back.

Welsh knows.

Riley stared at him.

"What do you know?"

Jesse read it again.

His expression changed.

"That's the problem."

He looked toward the darkening streets of Gespee Falls.

"I don't know yet."

Jesse read the card a third time.

Welsh knows.

He turned it over.

Stop digging.

Riley stood beside him in the alley behind Vincent Shaw's freight office.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"It says you know."

"I can read."

"That's encouraging."

Jesse slipped the card into his coat.

"I don't know anything worth killing over."

"Someone disagrees."

"Wouldn't be the first."

Riley looked through the open doorway. Blood marked the floor inside, but Vincent Shaw was nowhere to be found.

"Do you think he's alive?"

"There's not enough blood here to say he isn't."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the one I've got."

Jesse crouched near the rear step.

Tracks crossed the dirt. Several men had been through the alley during the day, but one set had dug deeply beside the door.

Someone had been dragged.

Jesse followed the marks several yards before they disappeared onto the street.

"Shaw didn't leave willingly."

"Boone?"

"Maybe."

"You've said maybe quite a lot since you came back."

"Murder investigations are improved by not arresting everybody who irritates you."

Riley folded her arms.

"You should put that on your grave."

Jesse stood.

"Nobody's putting me in one."

A smile touched her mouth.

"I remember you saying that before."

"When?"

"The night you climbed out my window."

"Pearl had a shotgun."

"Pearl always had a shotgun."

"She fired it."

"She missed."

"Pearl doesn't miss."

Riley laughed.

Jesse looked at her.

He had missed that laugh.

There were truths a man could avoid saying aloud and still be forced to hear.

Riley noticed him staring.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You used to look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you were about to do something foolish."

Jesse stepped closer.

"Usually was."

For a moment, neither moved.

The alley became very quiet.

Riley's eyes dropped toward his mouth.

Then Jesse heard a horse.

Fast.

He turned.

Deputy Aden Peters rode into the street and pulled hard on the reins.

"Welsh!"

Jesse stepped away from Riley.

Aden dismounted.

"Jackson wants you."

"He's wanted me for twenty years. Never worked out."

"This isn't funny."

Jesse saw the deputy's face.

"What happened?"

"Fred Cotton."

Riley straightened.

"What about Fred?"

"He went after Cal Richards."

They found Fred outside the Drexel Silver Company office.

Cal Richards was on the ground.

Fred was on top of him.

Half a dozen miners stood nearby, apparently enjoying themselves too much to interfere.

Fred struck Cal again.

"Tell me!"

Cal spat blood.

"I don't know!"

Fred hit him.

Jesse walked into the crowd.

"Fred."

Fred ignored him.

"Where'd you take her?"

"I didn't take anybody!"

Another punch.

Jesse grabbed Fred's coat and pulled him backward.

Fred swung.

Jesse ducked.

"Don't."

"Get off me!"

Fred came again.

Jesse hit him once.

Fred sat down.

The miners went quiet.

Fred touched his mouth.

"You son of a bitch."

"Probably."

Riley pushed through the crowd.

"Fred!"

He looked at her.

His anger changed immediately.

"Riley."

"What are you doing?"

"Getting answers."

"By killing him?"

Fred pointed at Cal.

"He threatened Amanda."

Cal Richards rolled onto one elbow.

"I didn't kill her."

"Then why'd you threaten her?"

"Because she was asking questions that could get people killed."

Jesse looked at him.

"Seems she should've listened."

Cal wiped blood from his mouth.

"Go to hell."

"Busy week. Everybody keeps inviting me."

Jesse offered Cal a hand.

Cal ignored it and stood by himself.

"Why was Amanda asking about the mine?"

"I don't know."

"You argued with her."

"She came to me."

"When?"

"Eight days ago."

"What did she want?"

Cal looked at Fred.

"Get him out of here."

Fred lunged.

Riley caught his arm.

"Fred!"

Jesse stepped between them.

"Talk."

Cal glanced at the miners.

"Not here."

They entered the Drexel office.

Aden remained outside with Fred.

Cal poured whiskey into a glass.

His hand shook slightly.

Jesse noticed.

"Boone Walker work for you?"

Cal stopped pouring.

"No."

"Damien Drexel?"

"I don't know."

"Vincent Shaw?"

Cal looked at him.

"What's Shaw got to do with this?"

"He's missing."

Cal slowly set down the bottle.

"Since when?"

"Tonight."

"Christ."

Riley stepped closer.

"What did Amanda ask you?"

Cal drank.

"She wanted mine production records."

"Why?"

"She said the railway weights didn't match."

Jesse leaned against the desk.

"Did they?"

"No."

Riley stared at him.

"You knew?"

"I knew something was wrong."

"Silver was disappearing."

Cal shook his head.

"That's the thing. It wasn't."

Jesse straightened.

"What?"

"We weren't losing silver."

"Then what was happening?"

Cal opened a drawer and removed a ledger.

He placed it on the desk.

"The mine ships twenty bars, railway records eighteen."

"Two disappear."

"No."

Cal tapped the ledger.

"Twenty arrive."

Jesse understood.

"Then two more appear somewhere."

Cal nodded.

"Silver leaves twice."

Riley whispered Amanda's words.

Cal looked at her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Jesse opened the ledger.

"Where does the extra silver come from?"

"That's what Amanda wanted to know."

"The old shaft."

Cal stared at him.

"You found it."

"We found Bell."

Cal's face changed.

"Lucas?"

"Dead."

Cal sat down.

For the first time, the hard mine foreman looked genuinely frightened.

"Then we're all dead."

Jesse closed the ledger.

"Why?"

Cal looked toward the window.

"Because that silver isn't Drexel's."

"Whose is it?"

"I don't know."

"Try harder."

Cal leaned toward him.

"Damien Drexel owns every active claim around Gespee Falls. Every legal claim."

Jesse understood the word.

"Legal."

Cal nodded.

"Somebody found another vein."

"And they're mining it through the abandoned tunnels."

"Without registering the claim. Without paying Drexel. Without paying taxes."

"Then shipping it with Drexel's silver."

"Exactly."

Riley frowned.

"Why would Vincent help?"

"Freight agent controls the weights."

Jesse looked toward the door.

"No."

Riley turned.

"What?"

"Vincent wasn't helping them."

"How do you know?"

"Amanda trusted him."

"That doesn't mean he was innocent."

"No."

Jesse remembered the note.

Vincent says Drexel doesn't know. Cal doesn't know.

Amanda had already spoken to Vincent.

Vincent had discovered the false weights.

Lucas Bell had discovered the hidden mine.

Amanda connected them.

Three people.

Bell dead.

Amanda dead.

Shaw missing.

Someone was cleaning up.

Jesse looked at Cal.

"Who has access to both the railway and the mine?"

Cal hesitated.

"Plenty of men."

"Who can move freight without Shaw questioning it?"

"Railroad crew."

"Who can move men through Drexel property without you questioning it?"

"Company men."

"Who can do both?"

Cal's expression changed.

Jesse saw the answer arrive.

"Boone Walker."

Cal shook his head.

"Walker doesn't run anything."

"I know."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying we're still looking at the gun instead of the man holding it."

Night had settled over Gespee Falls when Jesse and Riley returned to the Silver Belle.

The saloon was crowded.

Piano music fought against laughter and drunken conversation. Cards slapped against tables. Whiskey flowed.

Pearl Silverton saw them enter.

"Your cousin is upstairs."

Riley frowned.

"Fred?"

"Deputy brought him."

"Is he all right?"

"His pride's hurt."

Pearl looked at Jesse.

"Apparently somebody punched him."

"He fell."

"Into your fist?"

"Terrible accident."

Pearl shook her head.

Jesse looked around.

Something felt wrong.

He could not identify it.

That bothered him.

"Where's Jackson?"

"Looking for Vincent Shaw."

"Boone?"

"Haven't seen him."

Jesse's eyes moved across the room.

Miners.

Gamblers.

Two railroad men.

Three women serving drinks.

A stranger at the far end of the bar.

Jesse looked at him.

The man looked away.

"Riley."

"What?"

"Go upstairs."

She sighed.

"We've discussed this."

"Do it."

Something in his voice changed her expression.

"Why?"

"I don't know yet."

Riley studied the room.

Then she saw it.

A man near the piano had not touched his drink.

Another near the door wore his coat buttoned despite the heat.

Riley whispered.

"Jesse."

"I see them."

Pearl reached beneath the bar.

Jesse knew exactly what she kept there.

"Easy."

The piano stopped.

Nobody had told the player to stop.

That was when Jesse knew.

"Down!"

The first shot shattered a whiskey bottle behind the bar.

Jesse drew.

The Silver Belle erupted.

People screamed.

Tables overturned.

Jesse fired once.

The man near the piano dropped.

The second gunman drew from beneath his coat.

Pearl's shotgun roared.

He disappeared backward through a table.

"Still doesn't miss," Jesse said.

"I heard that!"

Another shot came from upstairs.

Riley froze.

"Fred."

She ran.

"Riley!"

Jesse followed.

They reached the landing.

Fred Cotton lay in the hallway.

Blood covered his shoulder.

"Fred!"

Riley dropped beside him.

"Alive," Fred gasped.

"Who?"

He pointed.

"Amanda's room."

Jesse approached the doorway.

Empty.

The window stood open.

He crossed the room.

A rope hung outside.

Then he heard Riley behind him.

"Jesse."

He turned.

She was standing beside the bed.

A small wooden box sat upon it.

Neither had seen it before.

Jesse opened it.

Inside was a silver bar.

Number 33.

And a note.

One sentence.

Bring the ledger to the midnight freight or Riley Vixen dies.

Jesse stared at it.

Riley read over his shoulder.

There was a long silence.

Then she frowned.

"That seems poorly planned."

Jesse looked at her.

"What?"

"I'm standing here."

He read the note again.

His blood went cold.

"Riley."

"What?"

"Where's Pearl?"

They ran downstairs.

The saloon had emptied.

Broken glass covered the floor.

One gunman was dead.

The other groaned beneath a shattered table.

Pearl Silverton was gone.

Jesse turned toward the bar.

Something had been written across the mirror in blood.

WRONG WOMAN.

Riley stared.

"No."

Jesse ran through the rear doors.

The alley was empty.

Then a gun clicked behind him.

Jesse stopped.

Boone Walker stood beneath the rear awning.

Revolver leveled at Jesse's chest.

Riley appeared in the doorway.

Boone glanced at her.

"Miss Vixen."

Jesse's hand remained near his gun.

"Where's Pearl?"

Boone smiled.

"I didn't take her."

"Then who did?"

"The man paying me."

"Who?"

Boone's smile disappeared.

"You've been asking the wrong question."

"What question should I ask?"

Boone lowered his revolver.

"Why was Amanda Cotton killed?"

Jesse stared at him.

"She found the silver."

"No."

"Then why?"

"Because she found out where it was going."

A train whistle sounded in the distance.

Midnight freight.

Boone stepped backward into the darkness.

"Bring the ledger, Welsh."

Jesse reached for his gun.

Boone was already gone.

Riley came beside him.

"Where is the silver going?"

Jesse looked toward the railway.

The answer had been sitting in front of him since the beginning.

Railcars.

Weights.

Freight records.

Amanda had never been investigating a mine.

She had been investigating a train.

Jesse looked at Riley.

"Get your coat."

"Why?"

He checked his revolver.

"Because we're catching the midnight freight."

The midnight freight was already moving when Jesse and Riley reached the railway yard.

"Wonderful," Riley said.

Jesse watched the train gathering speed.

"Could be worse."

"How?"

"It could be raining."

Riley looked at the clear sky.

"I remember why I hated you."

"No, you don't."

That silenced her for half a second.

Jesse considered it a victory.

The freight rolled past the platform, locomotive breathing smoke into the night. Eight cars followed behind it. Two enclosed freight cars, three flatcars, a livestock car, another freight car, then the caboose.

Jesse ran toward Bishop.

Riley caught his arm.

"What are you doing?"

"Catching a train."

"On a horse?"

"Unless you've learned to fly."

He mounted.

Riley hurried to her mare.

"I should have stayed at the saloon."

"You've been saying that for seven years."

"I have never said that."

"You thought it loudly."

They rode.

The train cleared Gespee Falls and began its long climb through the valley. Sparks rose from the locomotive. Moonlight touched the rails.

Jesse leaned low over Bishop's neck.

The old gelding objected to the entire enterprise but ran anyway.

Riley kept pace.

Jesse glanced at her.

Her red hair had come partly loose. Her coat snapped behind her.

For a moment he remembered a younger Riley racing him outside town.

She had cheated.

She had also won.

"Jesse!"

He looked ahead.

The caboose was nearly beside them.

Jesse urged Bishop closer.

"Keep straight!"

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"Complaining!"

"I'm very good at it!"

Jesse stood in the stirrups.

The iron railing passed within reach.

He jumped.

His hands caught it.

His boots struck the side of the caboose.

Bishop continued running without him.

Jesse pulled himself onto the platform.

He turned.

Riley was still riding.

"Come on!"

"You've lost your mind!"

"Seven years ago!"

She brought the mare closer.

Jesse reached out.

Riley jumped.

He caught her wrist.

Her body struck his.

For one unpleasant second both nearly went over the railing.

Jesse wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled.

They fell onto the platform together.

Riley landed on him.

Neither moved.

Jesse became acutely aware of her face inches from his.

"You all right?"

"No."

"Hurt?"

"No."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I'm lying on top of the man who abandoned me."

"Could move."

"I could."

She didn't.

The train rocked beneath them.

Jesse's hand remained at her waist.

Riley looked at it.

Then at him.

"Jesse."

"Yes?"

"Move your hand."

He did.

She stood.

"Wasn't bothering you seven years ago."

"Seven years ago I had poor judgment."

"You were younger."

"So were you."

"Exactly."

Jesse stood.

Riley straightened her coat.

"You enjoyed that."

"Terrifying experience."

"Liar."

"Frequently."

The door behind them opened.

A revolver appeared.

Jesse drew first.

Deputy Aden Peters froze.

"Jesus!"

Jesse lowered his gun.

"What are you doing here?"

Aden looked at Riley.

"I could ask you the same."

"We're catching a train."

"I noticed."

"Pearl's been taken," Riley said.

Aden's expression changed.

"What?"

Jesse showed him the note.

Aden read it.

"Jackson knows?"

"Didn't have time."

"You didn't have time to tell the sheriff?"

"Train was leaving."

Aden handed the note back.

"That's going to be an interesting explanation."

"Where's the ledger?" Riley asked.

Jesse patted his coat.

"Here."

Aden stared at him.

"You brought it?"

"They asked nicely."

"You're planning to give it to them?"

"No."

"Then why bring it?"

"Because they want it."

Aden shook his head.

"I understand why Jackson hates working with you."

"He's not working with me."

"That probably makes it worse."

Jesse opened the caboose door.

Empty.

A lamp swung above a small desk.

Railway manifests had been scattered across it.

Jesse picked one up.

"Look."

Riley came beside him.

The manifest listed Drexel Silver Company shipments.

Twenty bars.

Then another notation in different handwriting.

Twenty-two.

"There's our extra silver," Aden said.

Jesse examined the destination.

"Denver?"

Aden shook his head.

"That's the official destination."

"Meaning?"

"Cars get switched at Talbot Junction."

"Where do they go?"

"Could go anywhere."

Jesse looked toward the forward cars.

"Not tonight."

They moved through the train.

The livestock car held six very irritated cattle.

The flatcars carried timber.

The first enclosed freight car was locked.

Jesse tried the handle.

Nothing.

Aden produced a railway key.

Jesse looked at him.

"Useful."

"I'm a deputy."

"Usually doesn't help."

Aden unlocked the door.

Jesse slid it open.

Moonlight entered.

Crates.

Dozens of them.

Jesse climbed inside.

Riley followed.

"Silver?"

"Maybe."

He pried open the nearest crate.

Rifles.

Riley stared.

"That's not silver."

"Excellent detective work."

"Keep it up and I'll push you off this train."

Aden examined another crate.

"Army rifles."

"Stolen?"

"Wouldn't surprise me."

Jesse's expression hardened.

The operation was larger than he thought.

Silver was not merely being stolen.

It was paying for something.

"What would somebody want with this many rifles?" Riley asked.

Jesse looked at the crates.

"Nothing good."

A sound came from the roof.

Footsteps.

Jesse extinguished the lantern.

"Down."

The side door opened.

A man stepped inside.

Jesse struck him with the revolver.

The man collapsed.

Another fired from outside.

Aden returned fire.

Riley dropped behind a crate.

Jesse jumped through the open door onto the next car.

Boone Walker stood waiting.

"Welsh."

"Walker."

Boone drew.

Jesse moved.

The shot passed his shoulder.

Jesse slammed into Boone.

They struck the railing.

Boone drove an elbow into Jesse's ribs.

Jesse punched him.

Boone staggered.

The train entered a curve.

Both men nearly fell.

Boone smiled.

"Getting old."

"You first."

They collided again.

Boone drew a knife.

Jesse caught his wrist.

The blade stopped inches from his throat.

Boone pushed.

Jesse twisted.

The knife dropped.

Boone headbutted him.

Jesse stumbled.

Boone reached for his revolver.

Riley appeared behind him holding a wooden club.

She struck Boone across the head.

He dropped.

Jesse stared at her.

"What?"

"You hit him."

"He was trying to kill you."

"I had noticed."

Riley looked down at Boone.

"Is he dead?"

Boone groaned.

"No."

"Pity."

Jesse smiled.

There was the woman he remembered.

They tied Boone inside the freight car.

Jesse poured water over him.

Boone opened his eyes.

"That woman hits hard."

"Thank you," Riley said.

Boone looked at her.

"Wasn't a compliment."

"I accepted it as one."

Jesse crouched.

"Where's Pearl?"

Boone smiled.

"Forward."

"Who hired you?"

"No."

Jesse struck him.

Boone spat blood.

"Still no."

"Why Amanda?"

Boone's smile faded.

"She was curious."

"That's not why."

"Curiosity gets people killed."

"Who ordered it?"

Boone looked at Riley.

"I didn't kill your cousin."

Riley stepped closer.

"But you know who did."

"Yes."

"Who?"

Boone looked at Jesse.

"You really haven't figured it out?"

Jesse grabbed his coat.

"Say the name."

"Vincent Shaw."

Silence.

Riley stared at him.

"Vincent?"

Boone laughed.

"You thought Shaw was the frightened little freight man caught in the middle?"

Jesse released him.

Something did not fit.

"Shaw was taken."

"No."

Boone shook his head.

"Shaw left."

"The blood?"

"Chicken blood."

Aden swore.

Jesse thought through everything.

The freight records.

The seals.

The railway access.

The false weights.

Amanda had trusted Vincent.

That had been the mistake.

"Shaw found the hidden mine," Jesse said.

Boone nodded.

"Years ago."

"He started moving silver through Drexel shipments."

"Very good."

"Bell discovered the tunnel."

"Yes."

"Amanda discovered the records."

Boone smiled.

"And then Amanda told Vincent."

Riley's face went pale.

"She trusted him."

"Everybody trusts Vincent."

Jesse stood.

"Where is he?"

Boone looked toward the locomotive.

"Waiting for you."

The next freight car contained silver.

Bars stacked beneath canvas.

Hundreds of them.

Jesse lifted the corner.

Every bar carried the same mark.

33.

Aden stared.

"Good Lord."

Riley touched one.

"All this was coming out of that hidden mine?"

"Looks like it."

Jesse heard something.

A muffled sound.

He moved toward the rear wall.

There.

Again.

He pulled aside a canvas.

Pearl Silverton sat tied to a chair.

Her mouth was gagged.

Riley ran to her.

"Pearl!"

She removed the gag.

Pearl immediately said, "Took you long enough."

Riley laughed and hugged her.

Jesse cut the ropes.

"Who took you?"

"Three men."

"Shaw?"

Pearl nodded.

"He's in the forward car."

"Anyone with him?"

"Damien Drexel."

Jesse stopped.

Riley looked at Pearl.

"Drexel?"

Pearl rubbed her wrists.

"I heard them arguing."

Jesse looked forward.

That changed everything.

"About what?"

"Drexel kept saying he wanted out."

Riley frowned.

"Out of what?"

"The silver operation."

Jesse understood.

Damien Drexel did know.

Maybe not at the beginning.

But he knew now.

"And Shaw?"

Pearl's expression hardened.

"Shaw told him nobody gets out."

A gunshot sounded from the forward car.

Then another.

Jesse drew his revolver.

"Stay here."

Riley stood.

"No."

"Riley."

"We've had this conversation."

"This time I'm serious."

"So am I."

He looked at her.

There was no changing her mind.

There never had been.

"Fine."

Pearl picked up one of the dead gunman's revolvers.

"I'm coming too."

Jesse stared.

Pearl cocked it.

"What?"

He sighed.

"Nothing."

They reached the forward freight car.

The door was partly open.

Jesse entered.

Damien Drexel lay against a stack of crates.

Blood covered his shirt.

Vincent Shaw stood beside him.

A revolver rested in his hand.

Vincent looked exactly as Jesse remembered.

Neat suit.

Clean collar.

Quiet face.

Nothing about him suggested a man capable of murder.

That had been useful.

"Jesse Welsh," Vincent said.

"Vincent."

"You brought my ledger?"

"I did."

"Give it to me."

"Where's Amanda?"

Riley stepped beside Jesse.

Vincent looked at her.

For the first time, his confidence faltered.

"Riley."

"Did you kill her?"

Vincent said nothing.

Riley's voice hardened.

"Did you kill Amanda?"

"She wasn't supposed to be there."

Riley's eyes filled.

Jesse felt her body tighten beside him.

"That's not an answer."

"She followed Lucas."

"Did you kill her?"

Vincent looked away.

"She saw too much."

Riley drew her revolver.

Jesse caught her wrist.

"Don't."

"He killed her."

"I know."

"Let go."

"No."

Vincent raised his gun.

"Touching."

Jesse moved Riley behind him.

"You murdered Bell too."

"He became inconvenient."

"And Drexel?"

Vincent glanced down.

Damien Drexel was still breathing.

"Became expensive."

Jesse shook his head.

"You're running out of friends."

"I don't need friends."

The train whistle screamed.

The locomotive began slowing.

Vincent smiled.

"Talbot Junction."

Jesse heard horses outside.

Many horses.

Riders.

Aden looked through a crack in the freight door.

"Jesse."

"How many?"

"Twenty, maybe thirty."

Vincent smiled.

"My buyers."

"Buying silver?"

"Silver."

He glanced toward the rear cars.

"And rifles."

Jesse understood.

This was not a theft anymore.

It was an entire criminal trade running through Gespee Falls.

Vincent pointed his revolver toward Riley.

"Ledger."

Jesse reached slowly inside his coat.

Riley whispered.

"Don't."

He removed the ledger.

Vincent smiled.

"Throw it."

Jesse did.

The ledger struck the floor.

Vincent looked down.

Only for a second.

Jesse drew.

Two shots exploded.

Vincent staggered.

His revolver fell.

He collapsed beside Drexel.

Jesse remained standing.

Blood appeared along his left arm.

Riley grabbed him.

"You're hit."

"Arm."

"That isn't comforting."

Aden looked outside.

"We have another problem."

The train had stopped.

Armed riders surrounded it.

Jesse reloaded.

Pearl checked her revolver.

Riley picked up Vincent's gun.

Aden stared at all three of them.

"What's the plan?"

Jesse looked through the open freight door.

Thirty armed men waited outside.

Then another sound came through the night.

Hooves.

More riders.

From Gespee Falls.

A voice shouted.

"Welsh!"

Jesse smiled.

Sheriff Gabe Jackson rode into the junction with Fred Cotton and nearly every armed miner in Gespee Falls behind him.

Jesse looked at Riley.

"Seems Gabe finally started investigating."

The first gunshot cracked through the night.

The first gunshot cracked through the night.

A man outside the freight car fell from his saddle.

Then Talbot Junction erupted.

Rifles fired from both sides of the tracks. Horses screamed. Men scattered behind barrels, freight crates, and the small station house.

Jesse pulled Riley down as bullets struck the side of the car.

"Still glad you came?"

"No!"

"Good."

"Ask me again later!"

Pearl fired through the open door.

A man dropped behind a water trough.

Jesse looked at her.

Pearl broke open the revolver and began reloading.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Then stop looking at me."

Aden crawled toward Damien Drexel.

The silver baron remained alive, though barely.

"He's bleeding badly."

"Can you stop it?"

"I'm a deputy."

"You're having a difficult night."

Another volley struck the freight car.

Jesse moved toward Vincent Shaw.

Vincent was conscious.

His right hand pressed against his side.

Jesse kicked his revolver farther away.

"Don't."

Vincent looked up.

"You think this ends with me?"

"Wasn't thinking that far ahead."

"Those men outside will kill everyone on this train."

Jesse checked his ammunition.

"Then you'd better hope Gabe shoots straight."

Vincent laughed painfully.

"You still don't understand."

"What?"

"This isn't about Gespee Falls."

Jesse crouched.

"Then explain it."

Vincent smiled.

"Go to hell."

"Busy place tonight."

Jesse stood.

Riley had moved beside Drexel.

She pressed a folded cloth against his wound.

Damien opened his eyes.

"Riley?"

"I'm here."

"I didn't kill Amanda."

"I know."

"I should have stopped it."

"Save your strength."

Drexel grabbed her wrist.

"Shaw came to me two years ago. He already had the mine running."

Jesse heard him.

"Who owns claim thirty-three?"

Drexel looked toward him.

"Nobody."

"Somebody does."

"No."

Drexel coughed.

"It was never filed."

Jesse frowned.

"Then how did Shaw find it?"

"I told him."

Riley stared at Drexel.

"You?"

"My father discovered the vein thirty years ago. He sealed the shaft."

"Why?"

Drexel closed his eyes.

"Men died."

"Mining it?"

"Fighting over it."

Another bullet tore through the wall.

Aden ducked.

"Perhaps we could finish the family history somewhere less popular."

Jesse looked outside.

Gabe Jackson had taken cover behind the station water tank. Fred Cotton and several miners were firing from behind an overturned wagon.

The buyers held the opposite side.

Jesse counted.

Twenty-two men remained.

Maybe fewer.

Too many.

Then he saw something else.

The locomotive.

Steam still poured from it.

The engineer had fled.

Jesse smiled.

Riley saw it.

"No."

"I haven't said anything."

"I know that smile."

"What smile?"

"The one before you do something stupid."

Jesse stood.

"Get everyone into this car."

Aden frowned.

"Why?"

"We're leaving."

"The train is surrounded."

"Exactly."

Pearl looked toward the locomotive.

Then at Jesse.

"Oh, that's stupid."

"Thank you."

"I didn't mean it kindly."

Jesse opened the forward door.

"Cover me."

Riley grabbed his coat.

"Jesse."

He looked at her.

"Don't get killed."

"I wasn't planning to."

"You never plan anything."

"Not true."

"You left me without saying goodbye."

Jesse paused.

Even with bullets passing outside, that found its mark.

"Riley."

"No. You don't get to die before we finish that argument."

Jesse looked into her eyes.

"Then I suppose I'll have to come back."

"You suppose?"

He kissed her.

There was nothing gentle about it.

Seven years had already taken enough time.

Riley froze for half a heartbeat.

Then she grabbed the front of his coat and kissed him back.

A bullet struck the doorframe beside them.

Pearl shouted, "I hate interrupting, but people are shooting at us!"

Riley released Jesse.

"Go."

He went.

Jesse jumped from the freight car and landed beside the tracks.

Gunfire immediately followed him.

Pearl fired from the doorway.

Aden joined her.

Riley did too.

Jesse ran.

The locomotive stood three cars ahead.

A rider appeared between two freight cars.

Jesse fired.

The man fell.

Another came from the station.

Jesse ducked behind a barrel.

A rifle shot came from across the yard.

The gunman dropped.

Jesse looked toward Gabe Jackson.

The sheriff worked the lever on his rifle.

"Move, you damned fool!"

Jesse moved.

He reached the locomotive and climbed aboard.

The cab was empty.

Jesse stared at the controls.

"Wonderful."

He knew horses.

He knew guns.

He knew several unpleasant methods of finding men who owed money to territorial courts.

He did not know locomotives.

Aden appeared in the doorway.

"Move."

Jesse stared at him.

"You know how?"

"My father was an engineer."

"You said freight."

"He drove freight."

"That would have been useful information earlier."

"You never asked."

Aden pushed him aside.

He grabbed the controls.

The locomotive hissed.

Then the wheels turned.

Slowly.

The train began moving.

Outside, men shouted.

The buyers realized what was happening.

Several mounted.

Jesse leaned from the cab and fired.

One rider abandoned the attempt.

The train gathered speed.

Gabe saw what they were doing.

"Go!" Jesse shouted.

The sheriff waved his miners back.

The train rolled through the junction.

Several buyers remained aboard.

Jesse heard shots from the rear cars.

"Keep us moving."

"Where are you going?"

"Back."

Aden shook his head.

"Of course you are."

Riley had fired a gun before.

Jesse knew that.

He had not known she could fire one while climbing across a moving freight car.

He found her crouched behind a stack of timber.

One of Shaw's men lay unconscious beside her.

"You hit him?"

"Pearl did."

"Where is she?"

"Looking for another one."

Jesse decided not to ask.

"Vincent?"

"Still tied."

"Drexel?"

"Alive."

A shot came from behind them.

Jesse pushed Riley down.

He fired twice.

The gunman dropped his weapon and fell against the railing.

Riley looked at Jesse.

"You're bleeding again."

"Same hole."

"How comforting."

They reached the silver car.

Pearl stood over Vincent Shaw with a shotgun.

"Found him."

Vincent looked irritated.

Jesse almost laughed.

Then the roof creaked.

Jesse looked up.

Boone Walker dropped through the open side door.

Pearl swung the shotgun.

Boone knocked it aside.

Jesse drew.

Boone struck him before the revolver cleared leather.

Jesse hit the floor.

Riley fired.

Boone moved.

The shot missed.

He grabbed Riley and pulled her against him.

A knife appeared at her throat.

Everyone stopped.

Boone breathed heavily.

Blood ran from the side of his head where Riley had struck him earlier.

"Nobody move."

Jesse slowly stood.

"Let her go."

Boone smiled.

"You said that once before."

"I didn't have a gun then."

"You don't have one now."

Jesse's revolver lay several feet away.

Pearl's shotgun was beneath a crate.

Aden was forward.

Boone backed toward the open freight door, Riley against him.

"Walker."

"Stay where you are."

"You aren't getting off this train carrying her."

"I don't need to."

Riley's eyes met Jesse's.

He knew that look.

He had seen it years ago.

Usually immediately before Riley did something he had specifically asked her not to do.

"Riley."

She smiled.

Boone frowned.

"What?"

Riley drove her heel down onto his foot.

Boone cursed.

She threw her head backward.

It struck his nose.

He released her.

Jesse moved.

Boone drew his revolver.

Jesse hit him.

They crashed against the side of the car.

Boone struck Jesse's wounded arm.

Pain tore through him.

Jesse nearly fell.

Boone punched him again.

Jesse returned it.

The train rounded a bend.

Both men slammed against the railing.

Boone's revolver fell between the cars.

He laughed.

"You always were stubborn."

"So I'm told."

Boone hit him.

Jesse tasted blood.

Boone drew his knife.

Again.

Jesse stared at it.

"You really like that knife."

"It works."

"Not yet."

Boone lunged.

Jesse moved aside.

He caught Boone's arm.

They struggled.

The knife fell.

Boone drove Jesse against the railing.

For a moment Jesse hung over the edge.

Rails flashed beneath him.

Boone leaned close.

"Should've stayed away from Gespee Falls."

Jesse smiled.

"Probably."

Riley hit Boone with a silver bar.

Boone stared at her.

Then at Jesse.

"Again?"

Riley hit him again.

Boone went over the railing.

He caught the edge.

Jesse grabbed his wrist.

Boone hung above the tracks.

Riley stared.

"Why are you holding him?"

"Trying to decide."

Boone looked up.

"Welsh."

Jesse pulled.

Boone came over the railing and collapsed onto the floor.

Riley stared at Jesse.

"You saved him."

"I want him to testify."

Boone laughed weakly.

"Always practical."

Jesse kicked the knife away.

"Shut up."

They reached Gespee Falls shortly before dawn.

The train rolled into the station slowly.

Aden brought it to a stop.

Sheriff Jackson had returned ahead of them with several riders.

Harry Portman waited on the platform.

Damien Drexel was carried from the train first.

Vincent Shaw came next.

His hands were tied.

Fred Cotton stood waiting.

When he saw Vincent, he moved.

Jesse stepped between them.

"No."

Fred's face twisted.

"He killed her."

"Yes."

"Move."

"No."

Fred looked at Riley.

"He killed Amanda."

Riley stepped beside Jesse.

"I know."

Fred's eyes filled.

"Then let me."

Riley shook her head.

"No."

Vincent looked almost relieved.

Then Riley punched him.

Hard.

Vincent fell.

Jesse looked at her.

"What?"

"That was for Amanda."

Pearl nodded approvingly.

Fred stared at Vincent.

Then slowly lowered his hands.

Sheriff Jackson hauled Shaw upright.

"I'll take it from here."

Jesse looked at him.

"You sure?"

Gabe sighed.

"Try me."

Jesse handed him Amanda's papers.

"And Gabe?"

"What?"

"Do it right."

Jackson looked at Riley.

Then Fred.

"I will."

The sun rose over Gespee Falls.

Jesse sat on the same railway bench where Riley had found him.

His arm was bandaged.

His ribs hurt.

His face hurt.

He had slept perhaps three hours in two days.

A train waited at the platform.

Eastbound.

Jesse held a ticket.

Footsteps approached.

He did not turn.

"You're getting predictable."

Riley sat beside him.

"Leaving?"

Jesse looked at the ticket.

"Train goes east."

"I know where trains go."

"Some go west."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Silence settled between them.

The conductor called for boarding.

Riley looked straight ahead.

"You kissed me."

"I remember."

"You never apologized."

"For kissing you?"

"For leaving."

Jesse looked at her.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because sorry isn't enough."

That surprised her.

Jesse turned the ticket between his fingers.

"I thought leaving was the decent thing."

"It wasn't."

"I know that now."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

The conductor called again.

Riley looked at the train.

"Then what happens now?"

Jesse stood.

Riley's face changed.

He walked toward the tracks.

Then he tore the ticket in half.

He dropped it into a rubbish barrel.

The train pulled away without him.

Riley watched it go.

Jesse sat beside her again.

"You're staying?"

"For breakfast."

"Breakfast?"

"Then we'll see."

Riley smiled.

"Still a coward."

"Probably."

She slipped her hand into his.

Jesse looked down at their fingers.

This time he did not move away.

Riley leaned against his shoulder.

"Pearl has your old room available."

Jesse raised an eyebrow.

"My old room?"

"The one downstairs."

"Right."

"Far downstairs."

"I remember."

"And Jesse?"

"Yes?"

"If you climb through my window tonight, Pearl still has that shotgun."

Jesse smiled.

"Does she still miss?"

Riley looked at him.

"She never did."

Jesse considered that.

Then laughed.

The train disappeared beyond Gespee Falls.

For the first time in seven years, Jesse Welsh watched one leave without wishing he were on it.

Jesse Welsh discovered that staying in Gespee Falls was considerably more complicated than leaving it.

By nine in the morning, half the town knew.

By ten, the other half had improved the story.

According to one version, Jesse had proposed marriage to Riley Vixen on the railway platform.

According to another, Riley had proposed to Jesse at gunpoint.

Jesse preferred the second version. It sounded more plausible.

He sat at a corner table in the Silver Belle with a cup of coffee and a plate containing three eggs, bacon, and potatoes.

His left arm was bandaged.

His right eye had begun turning purple.

His ribs objected whenever he breathed too deeply.

He was happy.

That concerned him.

Pearl Silverton approached carrying the coffee pot.

"You look terrible."

"I've heard."

"You staying?"

"Breakfast."

Pearl filled his cup.

"You've been eating breakfast for two hours."

"Big breakfast."

She stared at him.

Jesse ate a potato.

Pearl leaned closer.

"If you hurt her again, I won't miss."

"I know."

She straightened.

"Good."

Jesse watched her walk away.

"Morning."

Riley descended the stairs.

Jesse forgot about breakfast.

She wore a simple blue dress. Her red hair fell loose over one shoulder, and there was no paint on her face.

Jesse had seen Riley dressed in silk.

He had seen her in riding clothes.

He had seen her furious, laughing, frightened, exhausted, and once standing in a horse trough after attempting to prove she could mount a drunken mule.

He had never found a version of her he disliked looking at.

She noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You've been saying nothing quite a lot."

"It's useful."

She sat opposite him.

"Pearl says you're staying."

"Pearl says many things."

"Are you?"

Jesse cut his bacon.

"Thinking about it."

Riley stole a piece from his plate.

"You always think when you should talk."

"And you talk when I should think."

"That's why we worked."

Jesse looked at her.

"Worked?"

Riley ate his bacon.

"Past tense."

"Right."

She smiled.

He knew she was enjoying this.

"You could order your own breakfast."

"I could."

She took another piece.

Jesse pushed the plate toward her.

"Marry me."

Riley choked.

Jesse smiled.

She glared at him.

"That isn't funny."

"A little."

She kicked him beneath the table.

His injured ribs objected.

"Christ."

"Good."

"Violent woman."

"You knew that seven years ago."

"I'd forgotten."

"No, you hadn't."

She was right.

Jesse picked up his coffee.

The front doors opened.

Sheriff Gabe Jackson entered.

The room became quieter.

Jackson had not slept either.

He approached their table and tossed a folded newspaper onto it.

"Morning."

Jesse looked at him.

"That depends."

Jackson pulled out a chair.

"Vincent Shaw confessed."

Riley's expression changed.

"To Amanda?"

"To everything."

Jesse set down his cup.

"Everything is a large word."

"Large confession."

Jackson looked at Riley.

"He admitted killing Amanda Cotton and Lucas Bell."

Riley went still.

Jesse watched her hand close around the edge of the table.

"How?" she asked.

Jackson hesitated.

"I want to know."

Gabe nodded.

"Bell discovered the hidden shaft six months ago. He told Amanda."

"Why?"

"They were planning to leave Gespee Falls together."

Riley looked down.

"He was married."

"Separated."

"I know."

Jackson continued.

"Amanda started watching the freight records. She noticed the weights didn't match. That's when she went to Vincent."

"Because she trusted him," Riley said.

"Yes."

"And he killed her for it."

"Not immediately."

Jesse leaned forward.

"What happened?"

"Shaw convinced her Damien Drexel was behind everything."

Jesse nodded slowly.

"That explains Cal Richards."

"Exactly. Amanda started asking questions at the mine. Shaw hoped she'd find something he could use against Drexel."

"But she found Bell."

"Bell took her into the old shaft."

Riley's face tightened.

Jackson lowered his voice.

"Shaw followed them."

Jesse already knew the rest.

"Bell caught him."

"They fought. Shaw shot Bell."

"And Amanda?"

Jackson looked at Riley.

"She ran."

Riley closed her eyes.

Jesse reached across the table.

His hand covered hers.

She held it.

Jackson continued.

"Shaw caught her near the ore cart. She fought him."

"Good," Riley whispered.

"He says he didn't intend to kill her."

Jesse's expression hardened.

"Men always say that afterward."

Jackson nodded.

"He broke her neck."

Riley squeezed Jesse's hand.

"They moved her body to the freight warehouse," Jackson said. "Boone helped."

"Boone knew?"

"He knew enough."

"And the note in Amanda's room?"

"Shaw searched the room after she died. Couldn't find everything."

Jesse looked at Riley.

"Amanda beat him."

Riley frowned.

"What?"

"She hid enough."

The freight numbers.

The note.

The locker.

Thirty-three.

Amanda Cotton had known she was in danger.

She had left pieces behind.

Not enough for any one person to understand.

Enough for Riley.

Enough for Jesse.

Riley wiped her eyes.

"What's going to happen to Shaw?"

"He'll stand trial."

"Boone?"

"Same."

"Drexel?"

"Harry says he'll live."

Jesse frowned.

"Damien knew."

"He did."

Jackson nodded.

"He'll answer for his part."

"What part?"

"Conspiracy. Fraud. Illegal mining. Probably bribery once I finish opening his books."

Jesse looked at him.

"You enjoying yourself?"

"No."

"You look happier."

"I haven't had this many people to arrest in years."

"There's the spirit."

Jackson stood.

Then stopped.

"There's something else."

Jesse sighed.

"Of course there is."

Jackson reached inside his coat.

He placed a small envelope on the table.

Riley recognized the handwriting immediately.

"Amanda."

"Harry found it in her coat lining."

Riley stared at the envelope.

Her name was written across the front.

Jackson walked away.

Riley did not touch it.

Jesse waited.

"Open it," he said.

"I'm afraid to."

"Why?"

"Because then there won't be anything else."

Jesse understood.

As long as the envelope remained closed, Amanda still had something left to say.

He said nothing.

Riley finally picked it up.

She broke the seal.

Inside were two pages.

She began reading.

Then she laughed.

A small laugh through tears.

"What?"

"She says Fred is an idiot."

Jesse smiled.

"Accurate."

"She says Pearl knows she stole the good whiskey."

"Probably."

Riley continued.

Her expression softened.

Then she stopped.

"What?"

Riley handed him the letter.

One paragraph had been written near the bottom.

Jesse read it.

Amanda had written about Lucas.

About leaving Gespee Falls.

About wanting a house somewhere quiet.

Then came something else.

Riley, you spent years pretending Jesse Welsh did you a kindness by leaving. You are a terrible liar. If that miserable bounty hunter ever comes back, either shoot him or forgive him. I don't care which. Just stop waiting.

Jesse read it twice.

Riley watched him.

"Well?"

"Your cousin was opinionated."

"She liked you."

"Apparently not much."

Riley took the letter.

"She knew me."

Jesse's humor faded.

"Yes."

Riley folded the pages carefully.

"I miss her."

"I know."

"I keep thinking she'll come downstairs."

Jesse reached across the table again.

This time Riley took his hand before he could reach hers.

They sat quietly.

Amanda Cotton was buried that afternoon.

Nearly all of Gespee Falls attended.

Miners stood beside saloon girls.

Railroad workers stood beside merchants.

Fred Cotton stood beside Riley.

Pearl stood behind them.

Jesse remained farther back.

He had never liked funerals.

He had attended too many.

Harry Portman said a few words.

Then Fred.

Fred managed three sentences before his voice failed him.

Riley took his hand.

When it ended, people slowly departed.

Jesse remained.

Riley approached him.

"You stood back here."

"Family belongs closer."

"You could have stood with me."

Jesse looked toward Amanda's grave.

"I didn't know if you wanted me to."

Riley stared at him.

"There you go again."

"What?"

"Deciding for me."

Jesse sighed.

"Apparently I have a habit."

"A terrible one."

"I'll work on it."

Riley slipped her arm through his.

They walked toward town.

"Where will you go?"

"Tonight?"

"Eventually."

Jesse looked toward the distant mountains.

"I don't know."

"Bounties?"

"Probably."

"And then?"

"Another one."

"And then?"

Jesse looked at her.

"You planning my year?"

"Someone should."

They reached the hill overlooking Gespee Falls.

The town spread below them.

Silver smoke rose from the processing works. The railway divided the buildings. Beyond it stood the Silver Belle.

Jesse stopped.

"What if I came back?"

Riley looked at him.

"After a bounty?"

"Yes."

"Every time?"

"If you'd have me."

Riley considered him.

"That's not much of an offer."

"No."

"You're terrible at romance."

"I've been busy."

"Try again."

Jesse removed his hat.

He suddenly wished someone would shoot at him.

That was easier.

"I love you."

Riley stopped smiling.

Jesse continued.

"Always did."

She stared at him.

"Seven years."

"I know."

"You don't get those back."

"No."

"And I'm still angry."

"I know."

"I may stay angry."

"Wouldn't recognize you otherwise."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Careful."

Jesse smiled.

Riley stepped closer.

"I love you too."

He exhaled.

"That's convenient."

She kissed him.

Slowly this time.

No gunfire.

No train.

No Boone Walker.

No one dying.

Just Riley.

When they separated, Jesse touched her cheek.

"I should have stayed."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

She kissed him again.

Then a rifle shot sounded from town.

Jesse closed his eyes.

Riley sighed against his chest.

"Of course."

Another shot followed.

Someone shouted.

Then the church bell began ringing.

Jesse looked toward Gespee Falls.

A horseman was racing down Main Street.

Deputy Aden Peters followed behind him.

"Welsh!" Aden shouted.

Jesse looked at Riley.

"No."

She pointed toward town.

"You are not leaving me standing on another hill while you go chasing trouble."

"I wasn't going to."

"Good."

They started down together.

Aden reached them, breathing hard.

"What happened?" Jesse asked.

"Boone Walker."

Jesse stopped.

"What about him?"

"He escaped."

Jesse stared toward the northern road.

A lone rider was disappearing into the distance.

Black coat.

Black hat.

Riley came beside Jesse.

"Are you going after him?"

Jesse watched Boone disappear.

Then he looked at Riley.

"No."

Aden seemed surprised.

"You're a bounty hunter."

"Nobody put a bounty on him yet."

Riley smiled.

Jesse put his hat back on.

"And I have plans tonight."

Aden stared.

"What plans?"

Riley took Jesse's hand.

"None of your business."

They continued toward Gespee Falls.

Behind them, Boone Walker disappeared over the ridge.

He would be trouble again.

Jesse was certain of that.

But trouble could wait until morning.