Naughty Marietta. Nan Ryan

      Pete Parker came up to Cole, smiled and asked, “Can I help you find anything, my friend?”

      “I believe that’ll do it,” Cole replied. “If you’ll add all this up I’ll be back to get it in a day or two.”

      “Sure thing,” said Pete, then asked, “You aiming to take yourself a little trip, are you?”

      Cole smiled and gave no reply.

      The sun was already beginning to wester by the time Cole finished shopping and stepped outside. He squinted in the dying sunlight, reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a cigar. He bit off the end, spit it out and placed the cigar in his mouth. He scratched his thumbnail against a Lucifer and lighted the smoke, cupping his hands against the slight mountain wind.

      He was shaking out the lighted match, when he looked up and saw Marietta. That bright coppery hair instantly caught his attention. She was with Maltese and the pair were coming down the sidewalk toward him. Behind them was the man called Lightnin’.

      Cole’s first impulse was to turn and rush away. But that would make him appear to be guilty of something. He stayed where he was. Didn’t budge. Nor did he look at them when they passed. And he hoped that Marietta was clever enough not to look his way.

      She was not.

      Marietta tried very hard but couldn’t keep from glancing at Cole. He never knew it. Neither did Maltese.

      But Lightnin’ did.

      The hired bodyguard caught Marietta subtly stealing a look at the dark stranger.

      He immediately wondered, Was something going on or had something already gone on between this Texan and Marietta? Lightnin’ sensed trouble ahead. His hand automatically touched the pearl butt of the revolver on his hip.

      He would, as soon as he got back to the opera house, threaten the Burnetts with their very lives if they didn’t keep a closer eye on Marietta.

      Nine

      Cole stayed right where he was until the trio had passed him. Then he snapped into action. He went back inside Parker’s Emporium and told Pete Parker he had changed his mind, that he needed the supplies right away.

      “Toss in some beef jerky, a tin of crackers and a couple of cans of beans,” Cole said to Pete. “I’ll take the saddle and bridle with me now and be back for the rest of the things in the next half hour.”

      Pete nodded, then asked, “You want some help carrying that saddle?”

      “I can manage,” Cole said as he hoisted it up onto a shoulder.

      He stepped outside, looked both ways and walked directly down to Pollock’s Livery Stable. At the stables he dropped the saddle and went into the stall where his newly purchased black was penned.

      Cole carefully examined the stallion and the big black neighed a greeting and playfully bit at Cole’s shoulder. Cole stroked the stallion’s sleek neck and murmured soothingly into a pricked ear.

      Turning to the stable boy, he said, “I’ll be taking the black tonight. Have him saddled and ready to go by nine o’clock. I’ll be back to get him.”

      “He’ll be ready, sir,” said the lad with a toothy grin.

      Cole ruffled the boy’s hair, then peeled off a bill and handed it to him. He was heading back to Parker’s Emporium, when he passed Lilly’s Ladies Apparel. Cole stopped abruptly, snapped his fingers and turned back. He had, until this minute, forgotten about the lacy blue satin nightgown he had purchased yesterday afternoon.

      Cole glanced about, then went inside.

      Lilly looked up and smiled warmly at him. “You have come for the beautiful blue nightgown?”

      “I have,” Cole said decisively.

      Lilly hurried into the back room and returned shortly with a neatly wrapped package. Cole left the shop carrying the package under his arm, feeling foolish, wondering what on earth had possessed him to buy the nightgown in the first place. And why he had bothered to go back and pick it up.

      Cole returned to Parker’s, gathered his supplies and headed back to the hotel. As twilight blanketed Central City, Cole began preparing for the difficult journey ahead. After a long relaxing bath, he had dinner in his room, then dressed in riding clothes—dark trousers, gray chambray shirt, gray and black bandanna. And finally he put on the soft moccasins that would afford him not only comfort but the quiet step of an Indian as well.