Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Every time Cole looked at Galahad’s snow-white coat, he remembered poor, brave Thunder the color of tar, and gritted his teeth over the man who’d brought doom on his horse. Thunder had been a damn fine animal, the best Cole had ever had, and a stunner too, but now he was gone, along with Cole’s old life.
And despite hatred for Ned scorching Cole’s gut with acid each day, he couldn’t help but think back to the first time those green eyes had met his. Back then, Cole hadn’t yet learned to recognize men like him, yet when he and Ned had seen one another, they’d both stilled, as if struck by the same lightning, and Cole had immediately known something was different about the handsome man. That maybe if he tried his luck with that one, the dice would fall in his favor.
He should have never taken that gamble.
“Adam?” Lars snapped his fingers in front of Cole’s face. They used a moniker for Cole in public, in case someone got suspicious about his identity. “I’m talking to you. What are you waiting for?”
“I was just thinking… of what food they might have,” Cole lied and hitched Carol at the post in front of the saloon. It wasn’t too busy yet, with most of the men still working, but he shook his head at a young woman who smiled at him from behind a full glass. She was starting out early, that one.
Cole tried to redirect his attention, but when he stepped into the dusky interior with stairs on the other side, and a mezzanine level circling the main room a story above, all he could see was Ned O’Leary going frantic as he lost more and more money at a card game.
He’d been so innocent back then, not yet the spoiled bastard who’d given up Cole’s gang to the law, and Cole had found himself helping him win that final hand. They’d fought side by side once their ploy had been discovered, and Ned had led him, Pearl, and Adam Wild to safety. Nothing suggested that the friendship forged here would meet such a disastrous end.
“Do you hate this place because the girls here have teeth like that statue?” Lars whispered and nudged him with an elbow.
Cole had plenty of experience with all kinds of girls, he just wasn’t fond of their secret parts anymore, but what was the point of explaining that to Lars? “Something like that. Had to flee through the upstairs window when I’d been here last. Her pussy had teeth. Just like a beaver.”
He grinned when Lars stalled for a second too long before slapping Cole’s back with an irritated harrumph. There, Cole could tease him too.
They ordered their food and sat at a table by a window that could’ve used a wash.
Lars’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait. I know why that name was so familiar. O’Leary was one of your buddies in the Gotham Boys days. Was he from here?” He kept his voice down, but Cole still got goosebumps when Lars added things up. He should have kept his mouth shut. He should have never approached Mrs. O’Leary.
But lying was his second nature now, and he shrugged. “You know how it is with the Irish. Lot of them have the same surname.”
Lars winked at Cole. “He was on my list before I tracked you down, but I never managed to get even a sniff of him. I crossed him out once you joined me, ‘cause I figured there might still be fond memories of all the train-robbing between you two.”
Cole chuckled, forcing himself to smile until the muscles in his cheeks and jaw ached. “There’s always the Wolfman. Do you actually believe he’s real?” he asked, desperate to change the topic, to leave here and stop seeing Ned O’Leary’s shadow in the corner of his eye. If only he could put his hands around the motherfucker’s throat and squeeze until he saw life disappear in his eyes. Only then would he find the peace he craved.
Lars nodded, turning more serious. The man was a charmer and a braggart, but not a fool. He wouldn’t have managed to stay alive this long otherwise. “I think he’s very real, but no monster. Tell me what beast steals books from a campsite but not the rabbits? A man of flesh and bone, who found himself a gimmick. We’ll smoke him out, and collect a nice bounty for the effort.”
Considering the kind of ideas books put in some people’s minds, Cole figured too many printed words and too little company could have been the culprit behind the Wolfman’s madness. Whoever he was.
A young woman in a simple green dress worn with an apron brought their food—roast beef for Cole and stewed chicken for Lars. When she asked whether they wanted anything else and offered them a pretty smile, Lars leaned back in his chair. Any farther, and he’d have been falling on his face, but somehow he managed to keep his balance.