"That's terrible," Dottie gasped. "Did you go and see the sheriff?"
"Yes, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He promised to keep an eye open to see who starts working it, but I didn't get a good look at the shooter. His voice is something I'll never forget, however," she whispered.
"Gee, maybe it's someone who comes in here," Citrine worried, giving a shiver.
"That's what I'm hoping for."
"Crystal," Jewel warned sharply. "If you should hear that voice in this establishment, you let Gabe handle it. He'll know when to notify the sheriff. Charlie, the piano player is here as well. If you can't get to Gabe, tell Charlie and he'll let him know. Under no circumstances are you to try and handle it yourself."
Crystal remained quiet and slowly buttered a warm roll.
"Do you understand me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good," Jewel smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. She knew exactly what she'd do if she found herself in a position similar to Crystal's and it didn't bear thinking about.
"You heed Miss Jewel, little lady," Nettie added, narrowing her eyes at the small blonde. "She's been in the thick of things a time or two herself and Mr. Gabe wouldn't like it one bit if he had to… well he just wouldn't like it, that's all. Besides, the culprits may be long gone by now. You just get on with your life the best way you can without your Pa, God rest his soul."
Dinner seemed a quiet affair after that. Nettie brought out a spicy dish served over rice which burned Crystal's mouth a bit. The sweet tea cooled it down and she was able to eat a small portion.
Nettie clicked her tongue in disapproval as she looked at Crystal's plate but didn't say anything. All too soon the girls were taking her up to her room to get ready for the evening ahead.
***
Jasper Montgomery was in a foul mood. He was tired, had spent the majority of the afternoon in deep discussion with his lawyer and wanted nothing more than to relax in the warm glow of his massive fireplace with a glass of brandy. Crossing his long legs, he stared into the flames as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass.
Why he should give a damn about the disreputable looking young woman he'd overheard talking to Jewel this afternoon, he had no idea. She was unkempt, a half-pint with very few of the curves he so loved and had a smart mouth to boot. If she was eighteen, he'd kiss her ass, he thought, shooting back the rest of his drink. Occasionally grown women still had freckles, but hers looked… well, young.
What bothered him most was the gun he'd spotted tucked into the back of her pants when he'd swatted her ass. It was a big, awkward weapon and nothing she should be handling at any rate. If she fired it, it would knock her on her ass so fast she wouldn't know what hit her.
Hell, he didn't care, he decided going upstairs to change his shirt. It was nothing to him if she shot herself accidentally, or fell and cracked her damn fool head open. Tying a black tie around his throat he glared at himself in the mirror.
If she wanted to take some heavy-handed miner upstairs and hand over her virginity on a silver platter for a few coins, it was nothing to him, he insisted out loud as brushed his hair into order, shocked at how messy it was. Had he been running his hands through it?
Jasper stomped downstairs, took his Stetson from the hall tree and slapped it on his head. Ten minutes later he was tying his horse to the rail and walking through the bat wing doors of The Red Petticoat Saloon.
At first he didn't see her. There were men congregated at the bar in a large group and he had a suspicion that somewhere in that throng was a sassy little ragamuffin with ideas too big for her britches. Every now and then, he caught a glimpse of golden hair and a flash of gray satin skirts, but that was all. It was loud; Charlie the piano player was pounding out a merry tune and dozens of voices blended into a cacophony of indistinguishable tones.
Suddenly the crowd parted and she emerged from the group towering over her carrying a tray loaded with drinks. Jasper almost spit. Damn it all to hell, now why did she have to look like that? He fumed as his chest tightened and his palms began to sweat.
Why did she have to look so fresh, like she'd just stepped out of a meadow in the early morning hours when the dew was still clinging to the petals of each flower? Her hair shone in the lights from the chandeliers, catching the same rays as her dress each time she moved.
Her eyes found his immediately, as though she'd been searching for him and he studied her. Instantly he noticed the bright smile on her painted lips was not reflected in her eyes. No, they held something else, fear, hopelessness, anger? He couldn't be sure but he felt her sigh of relief as surely as if she'd breathed it against his neck.
Long strides took him to her side.
"Ready to go upstairs?" he asked gently, taking the tray from her shaking hands and passing it to Citrine.
Crystal nodded and allowed him to take her arm.