Wild Country (The World of the Others #2)- Anne Bishop Page 0,57

now. The possessions for the rest of the new residents will be dropped off at the hotel or the designated storage area.”

After four days on the train, she didn’t have a clean set of clothes left in the carryall, but she said nothing since she figured that caring about clothes, even for practical reasons, would give Sheriff Virgil Wolfgard another reason to claim that a female wasn’t suited for the job.

Not that he’d actually said a female wasn’t suitable, but the look he’d given her had said plenty.

“This way,” Tolya said. He and Virgil turned and walked away, leaving Jana, Candice, and John to follow.

“It looks empty,” Candice whispered as they left the train station and walked down the street past a feed store and tack store.

“Most likely everyone is working,” Jana replied. She hoped that was the reason she hadn’t seen any humans. There were some cars parked on the street, but she couldn’t tell if they’d been parked there for an hour, for a day, or since the terra indigene had wiped out the humans who had originally lived in Bennett.

Couldn’t think about that—and couldn’t afford to forget it happened.

Then she stopped thinking about cars and people and looked at the buildings that ran along one side of the street. It was like stepping back in time to a real frontier town. Wide wooden sidewalks. Buildings that were cheek by jowl, with a feel of age both in their design and in the way they seemed to lean on each other for support. And every one of the buildings had some kind of supported covering over the sidewalk to protect residents from the sun and weather. It was like entering one of the stories she and Pops had loved to read. And there were even …

Jana stopped and stared at the two ponies grazing across the street. Chubby-legged, barrel-shaped ponies. One was black. Nothing unusual about that. The other was brown, with black legs and a mane and tail that were a stormy gray.

Despite her enthusiasm for being a mounted deputy—a desire based on girlhood fantasies—she didn’t know much about horses beyond the things she remembered from books she’d read when she was a girl. But she was pretty sure it wasn’t natural for a brown pony to have that color mane and tail. So if those critters weren’t ponies set loose to graze, what were they?

“Umm … ,” Candice said.

“Yeah.” Wouldn’t do to keep everyone waiting. Especially her boss.

She and Candice passed the hotel, crossed a side street, and walked into the Bird Cage Saloon.

“Wow,” Candice said.

“Wow is right,” Jana agreed. Outside, the stores looked like a real frontier town, a little tired and worn. This looked like a freshly painted movie set. There was a bartender with sharp eyes and a friendly smile and two women dressed as saloon girls. And the woman who came around to the front of the bar …

Oh gods.

“Look at that hair,” Candice whispered.

Jana was looking at the hair. Mostly gold, with wide blue streaks, narrower red streaks, and a few threads of black that made Jana shiver. Not the same colors, but the manager of the coffee shop in the Lakeside Courtyard had hair like that.

Tolya gestured for them to come forward. “Ms. Paniccia, Ms. Caravelli, this is Madam Scythe, the proprietor of the Bird Cage Saloon.”

Scythe eyed Candice. “Tolya says you know dances that would have been danced in a saloon.”

“Some,” Candice replied, sounding wary.

“You know how to work in a saloon?”

“I could learn.”

Wondering if “work in a saloon” was a euphemism for a kind of work Candice wouldn’t want, Jana debated the wisdom of saying something about Candice’s situation. Better not. The woman needed a job and could speak for herself. And if she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—Jana would be in a better position to help her once she was herself gainfully employed as a deputy.

Madam Scythe raised a hand. “Garnet, take the human girl to that table over there and explain the rules.”

The black feathers in Garnet’s hair told Jana she was one of the Others. “Crow?”

“Raven.” Garnet gave Candice a smile that was sharp but not unfriendly. “This way.”

Scythe focused on Jana. “Is this the one who’s going to work with Virgil?”

“Maybe,” Virgil growled. Now he focused on Jana. “You got your papers?”

She pulled them out of her daypack, and he pulled them out of her hand.

“Sheriff’s office is on the other side of the square,” he said, still growling. “Show up at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.” Virgil