It was just one word, quiet and short, but Victoria heard it. She also heard the ocean of ice beneath it.
"Yes," Victoria replied. "He said that he was Fodor Glava, and that he was aiming to finish what he started."
The old hunter's braid slid across her back as her head turned. One brown eye fixed Victoria in a gaze of steel. "You're sure you heard that right?"
"Absolutely." Cora's reaction surprised her, but Victoria kept her composure. "I made sure to remember his name. It wasn't that difficult, really; it's quite remarkable."
"Yes, I suppose it is." The hunter's words were soft. Her voice trembled slightly. She turned toward the young woman, but her eyes no longer looked her way. They wandered over the bar, taking in every inch of it like she was seeing it for the first time. Her fingers glided over the top, lingered on the edge. She didn't blink.
Then, without a word, Cora turned away. Her boots thumped across the saloon's floor, carrying her toward the stairs in the back. Victoria watched her go, her mind locked up in confusion. Nobody else in the room even noticed Cora's departure. They continued to bicker and banter, tossing chips and cards on the tables. The old piano stood forlorn behind them. A shout from out in the street drifted through the saloon's door. Minutes passed, marked only by the shuffling of cards and muttering of curses, yet still she stood rooted to the floor, one elbow resting on the bar.
Her mind finally shook free, and the questions began rolling through it. Should she go up after her? The message had clearly shaken the old hunter, shaken worse than Victoria would have thought possible. Seeing Cora's entire demeanor change, her devil-may-care attitude vanish in an instant, had confused and frightened her. Whoever this Fodor Glava was, he clearly held a great power over her. If the red-eyed woman could control him, she might be more than a match even for the great Cora Oglesby. The thought chilled Victoria's blood. She couldn't begin to guess what Cora would do with the message she had delivered, but the Indian woman's threat now loomed large and menacing.
Victoria glanced over her shoulder. A few men sauntered through the door, each looking her up and down before heading over to one of the occupied tables. Chairs grated against the floor as the others raised their fingers in greeting.
"Hey, sweetheart," one of the newcomers called, "ain't you working a bit early?"
Victoria ignored the comment and the laughter that followed.
"You ought to come over and sit on my lap," another said. She shot him a cool look. He grinned back as the other men at the table whistled and jeered.
"Looks like you got yourself a bed bunny for tonight, Wilson."
"She keep you real warm, I bet."
"Hardly," Victoria said.
Hoots echoed around the table. "Well, if you ain't going to look after my pecker, you might at least see about wetting my whistle," the man named Wilson said.
"I am not your barmaid."
"You ain't a barmaid and you ain't a whore," Wilson said. "What good are you, then?"
Victoria stared at him. "Too good for you."
The front legs of Wilson's chair thudded to the floor. "What'd you say?"
"You heard me," she replied, looking away.
"I don't let no bitch mouth off to me like that," Wilson said, "especially not one so high and mighty as you. Now, I'm a gentlemen, so I's let you say you're sorry and let it go at that."
"An apology?" Victoria tossed her hair back over her shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes lest she lose her nerve. "I don't believe one's in order."
"Too bad for you." The floor creaked as Wilson stood to his feet. "I done my best to be civil, but now I got to teach you your proper place. Won't do to have the whores getting all uppity in this town." The planks beneath her feet trembled as he walked toward her, but she continued to feign disinterest. Her pulse quickened with each step.
"Now then, missie." His breath, sour and wet, poured into her ear, "you going to bend over nicely, or do I got to get mean?"
Victoria turned toward the door, but he grabbed her arm before she could take a step. Instinct took over, and she brought her other hand around, smacking him across the face. Laughter filled the room. Wilson's eyes blazed as he whirled back