Wicked Wyoming Nights Read Online Free PDF

Ira Smallwood’s place?” he asked in a reedy, clipped voice. “I’m Croley Blaine.” Hard, calculating eyes swiftly examined Eliza from top to bottom in an appraisal so cold and unnerving she could only point to her uncle.
    “Come in,” Ira invited, glad of a break from the monotony of his niece’s company. “Don’t mind her. She’s just skittish around strangers.” A man of medium height, Croley still retained much of the trim, muscled physique of his youth, but Eliza disliked him instantly and her flesh quivered under the impact of his flinty, inquisitive gaze. She felt immodestly clothed despite a collar that reached to her chin.
    “Go along to bed,” Ira ordered impatiently. “Mr. Blaine and I want to talk business and I don’t want you dragging tomorrow.”
    Eliza almost ran to her small room, hiding behind a rickety door that muffled the sound of the men’s voices while providing a feeling of safety. She knew it was unfair to dislike Mr. Blaine before she even knew him, but she couldn’t help it. She undressed quickly in the shadow-streaked light of the moon and climbed into the cold bed. She tried not to think about the saloon, but it appeared to be settling over her head like a malignant destiny, while her ambition to become a schoolteacher was moving farther and farther away.
    That girl’s got to be part of the bargain, or the deal’s off” Croley said to Ira.
    “She will be.”
    “She doesn’t look like the type. If she’s that jumpy over one stranger, how will she keep her head when some drunk makes a grab for her?”
    “She hasn’t been around people much. Shell get used to it.”
    “I don’t know. I’m not giving you half my place for nothing,” stated Croley, unconvinced.
    You’re not giving me anything. I paid you good money.”
    “Not as much as it’s worth.”
    “It’s not worth half of that unless you start getting more people inside your doors, and my Eliza is the only way you’ll do it.”
    “In the right getup she could draw bees from a honey pot,” Croley agreed thoughtfully. “Take her over to Lavinia’s tomorrow. She’s got a house full of gals she dresses fit to get a man’s blood riled up. Your niece won’t do a thing for business in a dress that covers up everything from her chin to her toes. She’s not sweet on anybody, is she?”
    “We just got here. She hasn’t set eyes on more than a dozen people.”
    “Well, people have set eyes on her . They’re already asking after the black-haired beauty who went riding out of town with an old weasel.”
    Ira liked being called a weasel about as much as anybody else, and he glowered fiercely. “Don’t go telling everybody where I live. I don’t want the place swarming with a bunch of thieving cowboys.” The fury blazing in Ira’s eyes captured the interest of his new partner.
    “For a man fixing to make his living in a saloon, you don’t seem too fond of our best customers.”
    “Actually I don’t mind cowboys too much, but I won’t have anything to do with those high and mighty ranchers.”
    Croley’s eyes grew bright with interest. “You had a run-in with one of them?”
    “I have cause from years back to want them all dead.”
    “Who’d you cross up this way?”
    “You ought to be asking who crossed me ,” Ira erupted. “I was minding my own business too, which is more than can be said for the swaggering hellion who owns the Matador.”
    “So you’ve run up against Cord Stedman, have you?” Croley asked, his eyes narrowing.
    “If he’s the big bruiser with bushy hair and eyebrows and a cocksure way that makes you ache to fill his ass with lead, then that’s the one,” Ira ranted.
    Croley’s expression was unreadable, but a trace of a smile showed fleetingly at the corner of his mouth. “He’s pretty well thought of in these parts. Even the small ranchers usually find a good word for him.”
    “Then they haven’t tried to homestead Bear Creek,” snarled Ira.
    Croley’s grin