He stepped out onto the boardwalk, carefully looked all around him, as was his habit, and then headed for the cafe, preferring that over the hotel dining room. He took a seat one table over from Miss Sally Reynolds. They were the only customers in the cafe, the lunch hour over. He felt eyes on him and looked up into her hazel eyes. He smiled at her.
“Pleasant day,” Buck said.
“Very,” Sally replied. “Now that school is out for the summer, it’s especially so.”
“I regret that I don’t have more formal education,” Buck said. “The War Between the States put a halt to that.”
“It’s never too late to learn, sir.”
“You’re a schoolteacher?”
“Yes, I am. And you…?”
“Drifter, ma’am.”
“I…don’t think so,” the young woman said, meeting his gaze.
Buck smiled. “Oh? And why do you say that?”
“Just a guess.”
“What grades do you teach?”
“Sixth, seventh, and eighth. Why do you wear two guns?”
“Habit.”
“Most of the men I’ve seen out here have difficulty mastering one gun,” Sally said. “My first day out here I saw a man shoot his big toe off trying to quick-draw. I tried very hard not to laugh, but he looked so foolish.”
Buck again smiled. “I would imagine so. But I should imagine the man minus the toe failed to find the humor in it.”
“I’m sure.”
Conversation waned as the waitress brought their lunches. Buck just couldn’t think of a way to get the talk going again.
Deputy Rogers entered the cafe, sat down at the counter, and ordered coffee.
Rogers glared at Sally as she said to Buck, “Will you be in Bury long?”
“All depends, ma’am.”
“Lady of your quality shouldn’t oughta be talkin’ to no bounty hunter, Miz Reynolds,” Rogers said. “Ain’t fittin’.”
Buck slowly chewed a bite of beef.
“Mr. Rogers,” Sally said. “The gentleman and I are merely exchanging pleasantries over lunch. I was addressing the gentleman, not you.”
Rogers flushed, placed his coffee mug on the counter, and abruptly left the cafe.
“Deputy Rogers doesn’t like me very much,” Buck said.
“Why?” Sally asked bluntly.
“Because…I probably make him feel somewhat insecure.”
“A very interesting statement from a man who professes to have little formal education, Mr….?”
“West, ma’am. Buck West.”
“Sally Reynolds. Western names are very quaint. Is Buck your Christian first name?”
“No, ma’am. But it might as well be. Been called that all my life.”
“Are you a bounty hunter, Mr. West?”
“Bounty hunter, cowhand, gunhand, trapper. Whatever I can make a living at. You’re from the east of the Mississippi River, ma’am?”
“New Hampshire. I came out here last year after replying to an advertisement in a local paper. The pay is much better out here than back home.”
“I…sort of know where New Hampshire is. I would imagine living is much more civilized back there.”
“To say the least, Mr. West. And also much duller.”
Hang around a little longer, Sally, Buck thought. You haven’t seen lively yet. “Would you walk with me, Miss Reynolds?” Buck blurted. “And please don’t think I’m being too forward.”
“I would love to walk with you, Mr. West.”
The sun was high in the afternoon sky and Sally opened her parasol.
“Do you ride, Miss Reynolds?” Buck asked.
“Oh, yes. But I have yet to see a sidesaddle in Bury.”
“They ain’t too common a sight out here.”
“
