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Chapter One
1882
Strangers stuck out in White Stone, Colorado like snow in July
Cole McGuire reined in his horse at the outskirts of the dusty, near dried-up town He was conscious that farons; wo their children close to their skirts; and the handful of cattleet a better look at him
Cole tugged his wide-bri sun and the blatant curiosity Foolish to think he could have slipped into town unnoticed
His body was long and lean, honed by years of soldiering His gray duster hung open, revealing a black shirt, army issue pants and worn leather chaps that brushed the tops of scuffed boots Thick stubble blanketed his square jaw and his black hair draped over his coat collar A well-oiled rifle lay across his saddle
Cole assessed the odd collection of weathered buildings, which were as colorless as the people The Methodist church had never gotten its steeple; Gene Applegate’s mercantile displayed the sao; and a half-dozen businesses that had once prospered were now boarded up
What the hell had happened?
Three years ago, Robert Sinclair’s Lucky Star Mine had been giving up five thousand dollars worth of gold a day and White Stone had been tea with people and new construction The town’s population had swelled past ten thousand and there had been talk that Sinclair planned to build a fancy courthouse with big white columns
But none of that had happened Fact was, the town looked like it was barely hanging on
The town’s fading prosperity didn’t soothe Cole’s unease He looked over his shoulder toward the parched grasslands and longed to ride back across them away from old memories and a town that had never wanted him
Instead, he coaxed his horse forward This ho wasn’t about him
As he rode down Main Street, a portly wo a peacock feather stared boldly at him Her thick lips curled into a frown He reate Her husband owned the uardian of right and wrong
Cole touched the briaze averted as he coaxed his horse on He wasn’t up to answering any nosy questions
He dismounted in front of the Rosebud Saloon and tied the reins to the post As he strode toward the boardwalk, his spurs jangled softly h the saloon’s swinging doors The Rosebud had a freshly ashed exterior and a new sign coilded letters and a painted red rose The corner of Cole’s mouth kicked up No matter how bad the tied to turn a profit
A burlydoors, and bumped into Cole Clad in deni was fatter than Cole remembered, but he still wore a droopy mustache and likely still owned the livery
“Pardon,” Stan said before he glanced at Cole Recognition then anger flashed in his weary eyes
Ten years ago, Stan had wrongly accused Cole of stealing The two had fought and Cole had beaten the devil out of him “Stan”
“I’d hoped we’d never see you again,” he snarled
Cole’s hand slid to his pistol He’d ridden hard these last few days and his patience was paper thin “I don’t appreciate your tone”
Stan assessed Cole’s six-foot, two-inch fra he’d bitten off more than he could chew, softened his scowl “Do us all a favor and don’t stay in White Stone long”
Stan hurried down the street past several lared back at theazes dropped before he reached for the swinging doors
A barefoot boy, no ed clothes and a dirty face sauntered up to him “I’ll water your horse for a penny, mister” The boy had hollowed features and blue eyes wise beyond their years
Cole paused He had never paid much attention to children—until recently Now, he noticed theh He wondered when this kid had eaten last
Cole reached in his pocket, dug out a nickel and pressed it into the boy’s griuard him for me”
The boy
inspected the coin then tucked it in his pants pocket “Hey, you need anything else, co in this town Just ask for Dusty”
Cole nodded “I’”
Dusty positioned himself in front of Cole’s black horse “Just the same, I’m here if you need me”
“Thanks, kid”
Cole pushed open the saloon doors The sar smoke, so thick it choked out the afternoon sun
The odors triggereddrinks and saunter off into the back room with any coho had two bits He had hated the Rosebud from the instant he’d first laid eyes on it
He was eighteen when his ma had passed on and he’d packed up what little he had and joined the army There he’d found a code of honor and learned he had a nose for tracking and a talent for leading o, he’d retired with distinction, the rank of captain
Yet, as he stood in this roory
Cole chose a table in a dark corner and tossed his hat on the sticky wooden surface He sat straight in the chair, his back to the wall and slid dahs He itched to be done with his business
A red-haired barmaid with tired eyes sauntered over, and set a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler down in front of him “You look thirsty”
Cole poured his whiskey with deliberate slowness “Is Seth here?”
The beauty mark painted on the corner of her ?”
Cole pulled out a half dollar froed it toward her, keeping his fingers over the tarnished coin “Tell him Cole’s back”
Her finger ski you say, sugar”
Cole flipped the coin in the air and the barmaid snatched it with practiced ease She tucked the coin in her ae and strolled toward Seth’s office
He stared into the whiskey’s amber depths, not quite able to stoet out of this town fast enough
“I’d have bet fifty dollars that I’d never see your sorry face around here again,” a familiar voice cackled
Seth Osborne limped toward his table Ever since Cole could reray hair and hunched shoulders had been a fixture in the saloon since White Stone was little more than a mud hole
Cole rose and extended his hand Age and experience had taught hih the old man had been hard on him at times, he had always been fair to him “Seth”
Seth squinted as he studied Cole closer “You look harder every time I see you”
“Likewise”
“Staying long?”
“Long enough to talk to Lily”
Shock then sadness doused the sparkle in Seth’s eyes “You never heard”
“Heard what?”
“Cole, she died over two years ago”
Seth’s words slammed into Cole’s stomach like a fist Auto the rumpled, beautifully scripted letter Lily had paid another wo every detail It had been dated Deceo In it, Lily had told hi his last stay in town