“From what I hear, there ain’t a ranch anywhere in the valley but what half or more of the cowboys is quit,” another said.
“Well hell, who wants to work for wages when you can go up to Sweetwater and just pick gold up, right off the ground?” Luke asked.
“That settles it. I’m goin’ up first thing tomorrow,” another cowboy said.
“Me too.”
“You boys can all wait till tomorrow if you want to, but I’m goin’ up right now,” someone else said, and when he left the saloon, he was followed by at least half a dozen others. The rush left the saloon half empty.
“I tell you what, Luke,” Jake said. “I wish to hell you had stayed up there.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Well look around the place. You sure ain’t doin’ much good for the saloon business.”
Luke chuckled. “Well, what the hell do you care? It ain’t your saloon anyway.”
“I know it ain’t. It belongs to Mr. Peabody, but I work for him, and my wages is based on the business we do.”
Luke bought a beer, then turned around and leaned back against the bar, looking out over the rest of the saloon as he lifted his beer to his mouth. That was when he saw Metzger raking his biscuit through what was left of a plate of bacon and beans.
“Metzger?” he called. “Leon Metzger?”
Metzger looked up. At first he didn’t recognize Luke, because he had never seen him so finely dressed.
“Luke?” he said in surprise when he figured out who it was.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Luke said. He held out his arms. “What do you think of the duds?”
“You look like a whorehouse dandy,” Metzger said.
Luke laughed. “Yeah, I do, don’t I? I seen me a whorehouse dandy oncet, and I said right then that if I ever got enough money, I was goin’ to buy me some duds just like the ones he was a’wearin’.” Luke turned back toward the bartender. “Draw me another beer for my friend, there.”
Luke carried the beer over to the table, then put the mug in front of Metzger.
“Here, have a beer on me. You look like you could use a drink,” he said.
“Yeah, well, what I could use is some money.”
“Want a job?” Luke asked.
Metzger picked up the mug and took a long drink, then sat it back down. Beer foam hung in his moustache and beard, and he wiped it away before he answered.
“Who would I be workin’ for? You?”
“No, not me. You’d be workin’ for a woman that I know.”
“Workin’ for a woman?” Metzger shook his head. “No, I’m not sure I could do that. Work for a woman, I mean.”
“Why not? I work for her.”
“You do? I thought you was rich because of findin’ gold.”
“Yeah, well, things ain’t always what they look like,” Luke said. “Me ’n’ Percy both work for her.”
“Percy Sheridan?”
“Yep. And Poke and Gilley…they worked for her too.”
“What kind of a job?”
“The kind where you make a lot of money without doin’ too much work.”
“And you say you are workin’ for her?”
“Yes. Been workin’ for her ’bout a month now, ever since I quit the Lazy Q.”
“I don’t know. Don’t seem to me like no real man would want to work for a woman, no matter how much he’s gettin’ paid.”
“You want to tell Ethan Dancer that? He’s working for her.”
“Ethan Dancer? You mean the gunman, Ethan Dancer?”
“Yeah, the gunman Ethan Dancer,” Luke said. “You want to tell him that no real man would work for a woman?”
“No, I don’t reckon I’d care to do that.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Metzger stroked his beard for a moment, then nodded. “All right,” he said. “All right, I’ll work for this woman.”
“You mean you’ll see if she’ll hire you,” Luke said.
“Well, maybe if you’ll put in a good word for me,” Metzger suggested.
Luke shook his head. “No, I ain’t goin’ to stick my neck out for you. If you don’t work out, and I’m the one recommended you, why, she’s likely to come down on me. And I got myself too good a thing goin’ here to take a chance on you gettin’ her pissed at me. So, if you want to work for her, you gotta do it yourself.”
“All right,” Metzger said. “Where do I find her?”
“More’n likely she’ll be in her office now.”
“Where’s her office at?”
“Can you read?”
“Yeah, I can read.”
“Well, her office is right next door. The sign out front says McPherson Enterprises. Her name is Bailey McPherson.”
“Bailey? She’s a woman and her name is Bailey?”
“Yeah.”
“What does she look like?”
Luke laughed. “You mean you’ve never even heard of her?”
“No. Should I have?”
“I guess not.”
“So, what does she look like?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
A little bell was attached to the front door of the office of McPherson Enterprises, and it rang when Metzger pushed it open. At first he didn’t see anyone, so he stood there for a moment, just inside the door.
“You here to see Miss McPherson?”
Metzger looked toward the sound of the voice and saw a man sitting in a chair. He hadn’t noticed him when he came in.
The chair was tipped back against the wall, and the man was peeling an apple.
“Uh, yes,” Metzger said. “Is she here?”
The man looked up then, and Metzger saw his face, which had been somewhat shielded by his wide-brimmed hat.
The face was badly scarred; one eye and his mouth were disfigured. Metzger knew immediately that this was Ethan Dancer. He had never seen the gunfighter before, but had heard him described.
“She’ll be right out,” Dancer said, returning to the task of peeling the apple.
“Yes, can I help you?” a woman’s voice asked.
Metzger looked toward the sound of the voice, but saw nothing but the counter that separated the front of the building from the rear.
“Hello?” he called tentatively.
“May I help you?” Bailey asked again, coming around the corner of the counter so she could be seen. Metzger stared at her in complete shock. She wasn’t even tall enough to come up to the top of the counter. He had never seen an adult this small, male or female.
“Uh, yes,” Metzger said, finding his voice. “A pard of mine, Luke Rawlings, said you might be lookin’ to hirin’ me,” he said.
“Oh?” the woman replied, arching her eyebrow. “And why would I be looking to hiring you?”
“Well, uh…” Metzger cleared his throat. “I don’t mean just me, I mean, not like it sounded. What I meant
