“I’m sick of scraping by every day,” Jesse says to him, “wondering if we’re gonna have enough for Sarah to eat or the means to get a doctor for Jake next time he falls ill, leaving ’em alone and unprotected every time we need to take a job running cattle. We do this and we’ll be set for life.”
“It don’t got nothing to do with the fact that yer gonna find gold when Pa never could? Yer gonna save the family where he failed?”
“Damn it, Will!” Jesse snaps, his hand curling into a fist.
“What, you gonna hit me for saying the truth?” Will shouts. “Go on and do it, then, Mister I Let Go of the Past. Do it!”
“Hey!” I shout as Jesse lunges at him. He pauses, lets his fist drop to his side. I ain’t never wanted the Coltons on my tail, but suddenly they don’t seem such a hindrance. Rose’s gang is seven men strong, and two extra guns on my side certainly ain’t gonna hurt things. We can all benefit, and this is a way to tip the odds in my favor.
“I ain’t got no need for the gold,” I says, “so if’n yer serious, we got a deal.”
“Deal,” Jesse echoes.
We shake on it. Will frowns.
“Rose is in town right now,” I continue, “ready to play a few hands of cards at the Tiger. I reckon we can end everything tonight, and if we do, I’ll hand over the journal and you boys can carry on yer way.”
“Hang on,” Jesse says. “Rose is in Phoenix?”
“I saw his men. The law ain’t round and it sounded like they’re fixing to enjoy themselves a few hours.”
“So what are you aiming to do—barge into the Tiger and shoot Rose?”
“Not quite so recklessly, but yeah,” I says. “Walk in, sit at a distance, watch and wait till I got a shot. This is a lucky break, catching up with him here. We got him in a room with four walls ’stead of in a mountain range. He can’t dodge us.”
“And we can’t dodge him, neither. His men’ll be spread throughout the room. He’ll know we’re on his tail if his buddy from the river caught up and warned him. He might even figure us to be bounty hunters. Either way, he could recognize us. It looks lucky, but it’s a death trap, Kate.”
I see his point, I do, but I can’t stand here doing nothing. I might not get a chance like this again.
“I thought we had a deal,” I says.
“A deal, yes. But not if we’re gonna be dumb ’bout it.”
“I reckon I’ll just go alone and ride bareback, then,” I says. As I turn to leave, Jesse grabs my wrist.
“Please, Kate, you ain’t listening.”
“Let go,” I says. His grip only gets tighter. I writhe and squirm, but he’s much stronger, and all of a sudden my heart kicks into a frenzy ’cus he’s tugging me hard enough that I’m moving in a direction I don’t want to go—away from the exit. “Damn it, Jesse, let me go!”
I throw my opposite fist into his chest. He drops my arm immediately, but I know it ain’t ’cus I hurt him or convinced him with that one blow. My freed wrist sings with relief. Jesse watches me rub it, and I catch something shameful flicker in his eyes.
“Yer saddle’s in Evelyn’s room,” he says finally. “But please don’t be stupid ’bout this, Kate. I’ll help, we both will. Only, let’s have a plan . . . a smart one.”
Evelyn comes down the stairs, smoothing the front of her dress. She gives Will a small smile and he beams back, his gaze never leaving her as the chip continues to pass effortlessly between his fingers. I remember his story ’bout cheating Jesse at cards, and the way’s suddenly clear.
“I think I got an idea,” I says.
They listen as I explain. If’n we’re careful, we won’t gotta shoot Rose. Everyone else in the saloon’ll do that for us. Will can count cards, stack the deck on his turn to deal, set Rose up with a nice hand, but me or Jesse with an even better one. He can also plant a card or two on Rose’s person so it looks like he’s the cheater when we’re the ones actually pulling aces from our sleeves. The other players’ll turn on Rose in a flash.
“It ain’t a bad idea,” Jesse says. “’Cept for the fact that Rose might expect three men to be on his tail after that mess ’long the Agua Fria.” His gaze lingers on my short-cropped hair and Stetson, then drifts to where Evelyn’s mingling with the other girls and parlor guests. “But Rose ain’t expecting a girl to walk into the Tiger.”
Will seems to know what Jesse’s driving at, ’cus he shoves off the bar and pushes his way through the crowd. He says something hurriedly into Evelyn’s ear. She touches the folds of her dress, glances at me.
“No,” I says.
“Come on, Kate,” Jesse argues. “You put on a borrowed dress and you’ll be able to look Rose dead in the eye without him suspecting a thing. And Will and I’ll be there watching yer back.”
“Upstairs you said you wanted nothing to do with this.”
“It don’t matter what I want. I promised my father I’d watch out for you. That don’t change if yer a girl on a vengeful road. It don’t even change if yer a liar. I ain’t one. I keep my promises, and seeing as yer bent on doing this no matter what I suggest, I’m stuck making sure you ain’t dead before dawn. Plus,” he adds with a smile, “the promise of gold sure don’t hurt.”
First he tells me not to go after Rose, to let the past be. Now that he knows there’s a lost mine involved, he can’t wait to chase down the bastard. Turns out Jesse ain’t just a preacher, but a hypocritical one too. Lucky me.
I frown, and glance between him and Will.
“Fine” is all I says.
We work out the rest of the details, chatting till the plan seems foolproof. Then I follow Evelyn upstairs.
“I can’t wear this.”
“Why?” Evelyn says. “It fits you like a glove.”
“’Cus it’s . . .” I look back at the mirror above her dresser. “It shows too much.”
It shows damn near everything. I’s been hiding my breasts for so long, I half forgot I had ’em. The dress’s neckline dips low enough to show off the little I have, then swings wide to expose the whole of my collarbones. And it don’t even have proper sleeves—just short things that cover my shoulders and only a fraction of my upper arms.
I complain ’bout that too, but Evelyn says it’s swell luck, how those few inches of fabric hide the dressing on my bad shoulder. She don’t realize how much it hurts, though—having a confining sleeve ’stead of my roomy flannel. She gives me a shawl as if a sheer bit of cloth draped round my arms could make me feel less exposed. I reckon I don’t have much of a choice. Proper ladies don’t set foot in saloons, and I’ll be posing as a gal in Evelyn’s line of work for the evening.
She’s right ’bout one thing, though—the dress do fit well. From shoulder to waist to hip, it hugs my frame like Evelyn and I are sisters. I just wish I didn’t have to be in a blasted corset after finally being free of my wrap. I run a palm over the dress, tracing the dark rose pattern that covers the ivory fabric. The irony of the flowers ain’t lost on me, though if they were blood red—not black—the stitching would be even more fitting. I’m gonna make ’em pay, those Rose Riders. I’m gonna watch ’em bleed out at my feet.
“Trust me. This dress shows just the right amount,” Evelyn says. “Men don’t need much for their imaginations to run wild.”