The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,138

his three older brothers had done. But Myron had looked into the future, seen himself as a middle-aged man still living under his father’s thumb and rebelled. That very day he’d packed a suitcase, taken all of his money out of the bank, and headed west. He’d had no definite destination in mind, and even considered going all the way across country to California until the stagecoach stopped at a way station on the western edge of the Kansas territories. The sun had been about to set and the sky was a vivid wash of orange, red and yellows. He’d taken a look at the sky, then at the vast, seemingly endless horizon, and knew he was home. He talked the station manager into letting him stay on until he could get a place built of his own and just like that, his decision was made.

It was somewhat ironic that a way station and a saloon were the first two businesses to be built. But not nearly as ironic as the fact that they’d named the place Dripping Springs, when there was nothing but a dry creek bed to be seen for miles. The only time there was any standing water to be had was when it rained, at which time the dry creek bed would flood and take whoever, or whatever, was in or around it to glory. To date, a pair of Stanfield Smith’s pigs, an old mule, and one stranger, had gotten caught in flash floods and drowned.

Josiah Merriwether, the town blacksmith, had suffered a close call when he’d fallen into the creek bed one night while chasing a runaway horse during an approaching storm. The fall had knocked him out and it was only because the stupid horse came back to see what had happened to Josiah and wakened him by nibbling on his ear that he hadn’t suffered the same fate as Stanfield Smith’s pigs. Still, despite the perpetuity of rare and intermittent rain, Dripping Springs survived and flourished.

Only now and then did Myron wonder what his life might have been like had he stayed in his father’s business. Most of the time, he considered himself a fortunate man, if a bit lonely. Peace of mind and being his own boss usually overruled any regrets he might have had, and today was no exception.

He was standing behind the bar pouring a drink for a cowboy who’d stopped in asking about work in the area. Three men were playing cards at the back table while Dewey, his hired help, was sweeping up the floor. The sun was shining. The wind was brisk. It was promising to be a fine day. He heard the squeak of the swinging doors, which indicated a new customer.

Then he looked up and froze. Fannie Smithson was standing in the doorway. The first thought in his head was that she was looking for her fiancé, Harley Charles. Thank goodness Harley wasn’t in here yet. It would have been insulting to Miss Smithson if she were to see her intended with another woman in his lap. It wasn’t until she took a step inward that he came to himself and bolted around the bar.

Fannie’s heart was pounding so hard she thought she might faint. It was the first time she’d seen the inside of a men’s sporting establishment. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this.

The room was large and rather dim. It smelled of stale air and smoke, although it had to be said that the place appeared cleaner than she’d imagined. The large mirror at the back of the bar was cracked from one side to the other in three places, the obvious victim of its locale. There was a steep and narrow stairway at the back of the room, the only way up or down to the rooms above. She knew for a fact that at least three women worked in this place and slept above it during the day. She knew because she’d seen them near sundown, out on the balcony in their scanty garments calling down to the men in the streets below.

There was a scraping of boots against flooring. Startled, she suddenly realized she was the center of attention. The cowboy at the bar, and the three men at the table in the back of the room, were all staring at her. Not only that, but Myron Griggs was coming toward her with a startled expression on his face. At that point, she realized that