Adventures of Cash Laramie and Gideon Miles (Cash Laramie & Gideon Miles Series) Read Online Free PDF

sure."
    Miles saw his friend's brow deepen. He buttoned the leather pouch, took the reins, and climbed onto his horse. "Now, you know I was hired to track polecats like Van Jones into the badlands."
    "Doesn't make it right, going it alone."
    "
Marshal Cash Laramie to testify against the Mayor's brother.
"
    Miles jerked a thumb the newspaper lad's way. "See, you're famous. You're going nowhere."
    "I'll be along as soon as my part of the trial is over."
    "And I'll be halfway back by then."
    "Wouldn't you like to think so." But Cash's oft-used phrase lacked its customary confidence.
    Miles tipped the right corner of his hat, urging his pinto north out of town.
    "Will Mister Miles be all right?" he overheard Keith ask his partner as he rode away. He didn't hear Cash's answer but knew his worried friend's eyes followed after.
    * * *
    The main road leading out of Cheyenne tapered to a course path that meandered to the first of several hills. A rider's thoughts were many when cutting a hard trail and Miles' own returned to the partner and city he left behind.
    His friendship with Cash had been seared in scores of gunfights and narrow escapes, and the bond between them strengthened by their reputations as outsiders within the marshal service. A lot of folks called Cash reckless, the small-minded ones claiming it stemmed from his being reared by Arapahos. Miles was one of the first black marshals in the service. Though, his skills with guns, knives, and tracking were unrivaled, he was still considered second class because of his skin color.
    Fifteen miles outside of town, he tethered his horse to a hitching post near a saloon known as "The Shack." Rickety walls and a sagging roof helped the bartender, Knox, water down the drinks when it rained. Or, so went the joke from his faithful crowd. Knox insisted it wasn't true, but his patrons became less sozzled as the evenings wore on.
    Miles walked in and stared at the all-black crowd. "Gideon!" Knox shouted from behind the counter and a small roar went up from several men playing poker in the far corner of the room. His shoulders and stance relaxed. He grinned and threaded his way through the smoky room full of couples dancing to a jovial tune being pounded out by the piano player.
    He laid a bit on the counter. "Let me try some of that bug juice you're passing off as whiskey."
    Knox shoved the money back and poured a suspect liquid into a glass. "The first one will always be on the house because if it wasn't for you and your friend, this bar wouldn't be here."
    Miles thought back to when he and Cash made a stand against the Klan a year ago.
    A fur trader with his hand lassoed around a saloon girl clamored for a refill and Knox excused himself to oblige.
    Miles sipped his whiskey, enjoying a last moment of peace before his manhunt for Van Jones resumed. The warmth of the whiskey hadn't even reached his stomach when a hot whisper filled his ear, "Hello, Gideon."
    He cocked his head sideways and then stepped back to enjoy the beauty in a yellow dress before him.
    "Hello, Violet."
    Her brown eyes twinkled.
    "Drink?"
    She nodded. Miles stretched over the bar for a shot glass and the remaining whiskey. Knox seemed preoccupied with the overzealous trader who began raising his voice and stabbing his finger in the air.
    "Here you go," he said, half-filling the glass.
    "Staying long?" she asked.
    "Long enough to finish this drink."
    She leaned in for Miles to enjoy the full view of her shapely chest. "Maybe wait around for me to sing a song or two."
    "Maybe." His fingers tapped on the bar's edge. "I like that music."
    "It's a brand new sound, straight from New Orleans. Knox even broke down and hired a banjo player after I pestered him for a spell." She eyed Miles closer. "Hey, whaddya mean,
maybe
?"
    "Huh?"
    "Whaddya mean by
maybe
you will stick around to hear me sing?"
    "Oh, I'm tracking an escapee."
    Her eyes rolled. "Where this time?"
    "Owl Creek."
    "By yourself?" She brought the glass to her