us one of his pistols," Ben said. "He's got plenty."
"If he doesn't, you're buying me a new gun," Cora said. "Let's go."
Cora stormed down the stairs and through the snowy streets. She burst through the door to the marshal's station, giving Deputy Victor Sanchez a fright. His pistol was nearly clear of his belt before he saw who it was and stopped himself.
"Ah, señora, you scared me," he said, sitting back down at the desk. A moment later, he jumped to his feet again when another bang echoed from down the hall.
"Sanchez, what the hell was that?" Mart Duggan stood in the doorway of his office.
"Just us, marshal," Cora said. "We got a favor to ask."
"What might that be?" Duggan asked.
"Well, we're in a bit of a fix. That priest from Boston sent us those special rounds like he said he would, but they're too big for my gun. Ben here don't keep his up, so we're looking to borrow a .45."
The marshal's eyes flicked over her shoulder. "Is that right? I thought you had a peacemaker same as me."
"Sure do, but it's a new one," she said, pulling her revolver from its holster. "This here's a .38. Easier to handle, though she don't pack as much of a punch."
Duggan walked over and took the gun from her. "Since when did Colt make lady guns?" he asked, turning it over in his hands.
"Since recently," Cora said. "I picked me up one to make my life easier. She don't kick like the .45, so aiming's easier. The size of the bullet ain't what kills what I shoot at, so I figured why not."
"Well, I'll be damned," the marshal said, handing the gun back to her.
"She's a lady, all right, but she can't handle what we need to shoot this time," Cora said.
The marshal placed a hand on the gun at his hip. "You sure your new bullets will whip this thing?"
"Ain't no guarantee, but they're better than what I got."
Duggan pulled the Colt from his holster and dumped the bullets out onto the deputy's desk. He snapped the cylinder back into place, twirled the gun in his fingers, and handed it to her, grip first. She took it from him and spun it once. "Funny how quick you forget their weight."
"I expect that gun back on my desk by tomorrow sunrise," the marshal said.
"With any luck, you'll have it, marshal," Cora said. "Even better, you'll have us on the next train out of here."
"All the better," Duggan said, turning back toward his office. Cora turned to leave as well when his voice stopped her. "Oh, by the way, that feller you mentioned the other day?"
"You mean Wash Jones?" she asked, turning back to him.
"That's the one." Duggan crossed his arms. "I stopped by the Pioneer this morning, and Boots told me Jones had already lit out of town."
"Is that right?" Cora asked with a snort. "Boots say where that sniveling little weasel was headed?"
Duggan shook his head. "Not a word about it," he said, tugging at his beard as he thought. "Boots seemed a mite touched his own self, though."
"How's that?"
"Kind of cold and mean," the marshal said.
"I heard tell he was shook up from the other night when the wendigo paid you all a visit."
"Could be." Duggan didn't sound convinced.
"Well, after tonight, he can sleep easy," Cora said, rotating the Colt's cylinder and grinning at the tiny clicks it made.
"You'll be heading up the mountain, then?"
"Maybe." Opening the door, Cora stuck her head outside and sniffed the air. "Maybe not," she said, turning back to the marshal. "Smells like another storm's brewing. If the path up to the cabin ain't snowed in yet, it will be soon. I'd rather not get stuck up there with nothing but a dead wendigo and my fool of a husband for company."
"He'll be riding with you?"
"Well, I reckon he's welcome to tag along," Cora said, throwing Ben a look. He grinned back at her. "Like I said, though, I think we'll be staying in town tonight. Wait for the spook to come to us."
Duggan's brow drew downward. "If it comes back here, it will kill people."
"Could be," Cora said, "but there's also more fire and less frost here. Father Baez said this thing was a creature of the cold, so I figure riding out into a snowstorm at night to face it by ourselves ain't the best way to lick it."
"By yourselves," Duggan repeated. "So you'll be wanting our help in town, then?"