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)
“It’s pretty quiet. Could you entertain us with a minute of your company? We’re in the area to hunt down the Wolfman. What could you tell us about him that they don’t say in the papers?”
The girl’s brown eyes went wide, and she pulled up a chair from the nearby table. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked like a little dog eager to show off the stick it had proudly dragged home. “Oh, how kind you are to us! Been upward of five years that he’s been around. But my ma says it’s foolish to try and go after him,” she said, sitting down with both hands curled in her lap.
Cole cut into the beef. It was more done than he liked, and kind of tough too, but it was still cooked meat that had been generously seasoned and even had sauce on the side, so he took the first bite, letting Lars do the talking. Since Cole was a wanted man, it was their prefered approach. That way, folk remembered him less. Cole didn’t mind. He’d lost love for people and the company of more than one person at a time a long time ago. He used to say that the West was a dangerous place for young orphans, but all that transpired as a consequence of Ned O’Leary’s treacherous actions proved to Cole that even a man as strong and capable as him wasn’t immune to harm.
Oh, how he wished to leave this Godforsaken town.
“How so? He is just one man after all.”
The girl shook her head. “We don’t know what he is. But like a ghost, he don’t bother you if you don’t bother ‘im. Maybe stop by the church for some holy water?”
Cole almost choked on his food and had to swallow before glancing at her. “Has anyone you know seen this… creature?” he tried.
The girl leaned back in the chair and raised her chin high. “Abraham Jones has, and his brother Josiah too! Seven-foot-tall he is, they said, with claws sharp as razors, and a mouth full of sharp teeth. They’d managed to escape only because their dog took on the beast. Poor thing was never seen again.”
Lars looked thoughtful as he chewed, pale brows drawn together. “Why Wolfman not Bearman then? Or Wolverine man?”
“It howls, sir,” she said and, to Cole’s disbelief, crossed herself.
“Teresa! I need you here,” yelled the bartender, his eyes like slants oozing suspicion about two strangers engaging with an honest young woman. Perhaps she was his daughter or niece. Or maybe he was just kind to a young lady who worked at his establishment.
Once Teresa had left, Lars stared straight into Cole’s eyes, digging into his food. “There you have it. It howls.”
Cole dragged his hands down his face. “I’m not afraid of howls. If this loony resists, we’ll just shoot him and take a smaller bounty.”
“So brave,” Lars snickered and patted Cole’s cheek again. This time, it was too much, and Cole’s fist flew at Lars’s face in a quick jab meant to split the lip in warning without doing any permanent damage. Lars groaned and touched his mouth as his head bobbed forward.
“Just eat your food,” Cole growled, returning to his own chow.
Lars scowled but once he licked the fresh blood off his mouth, his face brightened in a smile. “Oh, it bites! What if I’d been traveling with the Wolfman all along?”
Cole shook his head. “If you say one more word until the end of this meal, I’m not letting you suck my cock tonight.”
Lars bit back a smile and tipped his hat in silence.
Chapter 2
“If I die here because a fox stole your compass, I’ll be haunting you for the rest of your life! Which will be short, because you will freeze as well!” Cole spat, huddled by the small campfire they’d made while the sun was setting. The snow slowed their progress, but its presence was a testament to the harsh conditions so high up above Beaver Springs. It was March, for God’s sake!
Lars’s teeth clattered and the yellow light turned his handsome face into a mask of fury. “Maybe if you didn’t say you recognized the area, we wouldn’t have gone off the path in the first place!”
Cole nudged the burning wood with a stick, hoping the food would get done already.
He did know this place. He’d only been a boy when Tom and the Gotham Boys brought him here, so he hadn’t been sure at first, but traveling into the mountains with Lars reminded him of that dreary winter night, the hunger eating him from the inside, and the icy wind using his cheeks as a pin cushion. At the time, the lights ahead had meant salvation, but not for the people who’d lived in the little, remote cabin.
Cole had written off the things he’d seen there as incidental. A necessity. But while he had been sent out to deal with the horses as soon as the owner had gone down under Zeb’s fist, the thud of Tom’s cleaver would stay with him forever. The poor man disappeared, and his wife had been in tears as she’d served them food.