Hannah smiled, relieved. “Great. Maybe you could walk Rob down and Tyler and Justin can keep Trent up here. We can even get him a drink in the saloon. I’ll do that.”
Cooper hesitated and then nodded. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Great.” Hannah held his gaze for a moment longer before allowing her eyes to drift to the man in the alley. He’d stopped dancing and was now glaring ... directly at her. She was about to bring attention to his presence when Trent started squawking.
“Did you hear that, Rob?” He hopped up and down. “The hot chick with the big boobs is going to get me a drink. That means she thinks I’m more of a man than you.”
Hannah’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
Cooper was already moving, his plan to walk Rob to the lift abandoned. “What did you just say?” He grabbed the front of Trent’s shirt and practically lifted the man off the ground. “Apologize to her!” It was a command, not a request.
“Hey!” Trent slapped at Cooper’s hands, obviously surprised by his reaction. “It was just a comment. There’s no reason to get riled up. I mean ... she’s freaking hot. Look at her. Also, if she didn’t want to get ogled like that, she would cover up some.”
Instinctively, Hannah crossed her arms over her chest to serve as camouflage. “I told you these outfits had to go,” she muttered.
Cooper didn’t release his grip on Trent, but his eyes drifted to her. Even though he was enraged — and, truth be told, he felt the reaction was out of place given what had been said, although he couldn’t seem to contain his temper no matter how hard he tried — the expression on her face was enough to bring him back to reality with a heavy thud.
“New plan,” he said, shoving Trent away from the group and toward the lift. “Trent will be leaving first. Rob, you can grab a drink in the saloon. It’s on us. You’ll be allowed to leave in thirty minutes.”
Rob puffed out his chest, haughty. “That sounds delightful.” He shot Trent a triumphant look. “I guess I’m the one who gets to look at the hot chick while you get to leave. That’s karma for you, huh?”
Things happened fast. Cooper didn’t realize that Trent was lunging for Justin until it was already too late. During his tours overseas, he’d learned to react to a situation fast. This time, though, he was so flabbergasted by what was happening he was a split second behind the action.
From his position in front of the group, Trent managed to reach around Justin and draw the revolver from the man’s holster. He had it cocked and pointed at Rob before anyone could so much as breathe.
In her head, Hannah knew that the gun wasn’t loaded. They were prop guns. There were no live rounds on the premises. Cooper had told her that he and Tyler were the only ones with weapons, although she was convinced that Arnie Morton, the blacksmith, also had a few guns that he didn’t strut around with. That didn’t mean they weren’t there.
Hannah was used to hearing the guns go off three times a day during the re-enactments, but she’d never been this close before. The roar of the weapon was deafening and her eyes went wide as her hands automatically flew up to cover her ears. Unlike what she was expecting, though, Rob reared back as if he’d been struck and there was a splash of blood on the front of his shirt.
Hannah’s mind was a jumble of images as she tried to register what was happening. Cooper had jumped on Trent and was attempting to wrestle the gun out of his hand. Tyler had raced forward to help Rob. Justin’s face was white as a sheet and he looked as if he was going to pass out.
Instinctively, she snapped up her head to look for the man in the alley. This time he was doing a jig, his finger in the air. He must’ve sensed Hannah looking at him because he was gleeful as he lifted his eyes and met her gaze. Then, as if straight out of a movie, he poofed out of existence and disappeared, leaving nothing but the brief smell of sulfur in his wake.
“He’s dead,” Tyler announced, slamming Hannah back to the here and now. “I ... he’s dead.”
“How?” Cooper barked. He had Trent pinned to the ground, but the man was still ranting and raving. “How was that gun even loaded?”
“I don’t know.” Tyler looked to be at a loss for words. “What do we do?”
“Call Boone.” Cooper was grim as he turned his attention to me. He seemed relieved to find I was fine but there was trouble lurking in the depths of his eyes. “We need help out here, and we need it now.”
JAMES BOONE WAS THE SHERIFF IN THE real world, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a regular fixture at Casper Creek. He and Cooper had developed a close relationship and spent a lot of time together. This, however, wasn’t the sort of reason the sheriff wanted to visit Casper Creek.
“I don’t understand how this happened,” he said, standing over the body with his hands on his hips. “I just ... I didn’t think the guns were supposed to be loaded.”
“They’re not,” Cooper reassured him, handing over the weapon in question. “I checked it myself. All the other rounds in the gun are blanks. I ... don’t know how this happened.”
“That’s not going to fly.” Boone was firm. “I mean ... this is a catastrophe of epic proportions. I need to know exactly what happened.”
Cooper was calm as he laid out the information, although his eyes kept darting to Hannah. She’d barely said a word since, only responding that she was fine when asked if she was okay. Otherwise, she’d been completely separate from the fight. Cooper wanted to go to her, take her in his arms
