Rose Read Free Page B

half sister, Annika, that he could not see himself making love to her. But it was true he’d sampled Felicity, Mira, and Satin. It would have been temptation enough for any man living in Busted Heel, but the fact that he rented a room in the Hospitality Parlor made his infrequent visits to them inevitable. Proximity was combined with the added incentive that the girls gave him free of charge what cost other cowboys cold hard cash.
    “You think you ought to keep on calling the marshal ‘boy’?” he teased.
    “I figure since I was close to forty when you were a twinkle in your pappy’s eye that I have the right to call you damn near anything I want.”
    A twinkle in your pappy’s eye. The thought hit Kase like a winter gale and froze his high spirits. His fist clenched involuntarily. He walked away from Flossie before she could wonder how her words might have affected him. Shuffling through the posters, letters, and newspapers on the desk, Kase spoke to her over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at five, then, Flossie.”
    As if she sensed his sudden need to be alone, Flossie Gibbs saw herself to the door. “See ya then, Kase,” she called out before the door closed behind her with a bang.
    He stood staring at the pile of papers on his desk for a moment as he tried to shake the dark thoughts that crowded in on him. A sigh was followed by a shudder that came from the toes of his boots and shook his entire frame. He had to get out. With a slight shake of his head, Kase made certain the gun rack was locked and then turned toward the bentwood hat rack on the wall near the door.
    Grabbing his black Stetson, he opened the door with one hand and anchored the hat on his head with the other before he closed the door behind him. With a practiced hand, he nestled the band of the hat more securely around his forehead to shade his eyes. They were far too blue, much too visible, on the sunny street. Although there was no need to expect trouble, he knew that pinning the star of a lawman on his chest and wearing a Colt strapped low on his hip and tied at the thigh, issued an open invitation to any drifter looking to stir up trouble.
    The street was nearly empty. Down the way, a farmer and his family loaded a wagon pulled up before Al-Ray’s general store. Kase’s boots rang hollow on the sidewalk that fronted the buildings on his side of the street. The main and only street in town boasted two distinct personalities. The west side housed the jail, the bath and barber shop, the Yee family’s Chinese laundry, and Al-Ray’s mercantile. A man could spend a night in the poke, have a bath and shave while his clothes were washed and pressed, then treat himself to a tin of tobacco before he crossed to the less reputable side of town.
    Kase glanced across at the east side of the street. Two large buildings there housed Paddie O’Hallohan’s Ruffled Garter Saloon and Flossie Gibbs’s Hospitality Parlor and Retreat, where Flossie and the girls entertained long after Paddie’s closed down for the night. The only other building on the east side was a tiny two-room store that had belonged to a wiry Italian immigrant until he was killed by a ricocheting bullet during a recent shoot-out between two drunken cowboys,
    As Kase walked along, taking in the familiar sights and sound of Busted Heel, he thought about the circumstances that had led him to the remote Wyoming town. It seemed just yesterday that his stepfather had firmly taken him aside and asked him into the library for a serious discussion.
    It had not taken long for word to reach Caleb Storm that his stepson, twenty-one and a junior lawyer with the prestigious firm of Rigby and Anderson, had attacked a client in the vestibule of the elegant offices overlooking the Charles River in Boston. That very afternoon, Caleb had ushered Kase into the library and impatiently motioned him toward one of the deep leather arm chairs near the fireplace.
    Kase had stubbornly shaken his head and said,