Anna Finch and the Hired Gun by Kathleen Y'Barbo

Author:Kathleen Y'Barbo [Y'Barbo, Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780307444813
Publisher: Waterbrook Press
Published: 2010-06-14T14:00:00+00:00

He was one of the finest, cleanest men in the world, though, of course, he was a little handy with his gun and had to kill a few fellows.

—Wyatt Earp, regarding Doc Holliday

Somehow the morning passed and the afternoon dwindled nearly to evening. Anna pushed away from her desk to stretch. While the unpleasantness with Edwin had sent her hurrying to her bedchamber, the thick packet of letters kept her there.

Most were of the hard-to-believe variety, while a few were tributes to individuals whose names meant nothing. Letters of both kinds were easily culled and returned to the packet, leaving half a dozen choice leads that might make sensational stories.

Four gave addresses to which she could respond, an endeavor that had kept Anna busy until well past lunchtime. Then came the writing of tomorrow’s column, an essay on a fellow known to locals by the name of Soapy.

Perhaps, Anna thought as she folded the pages and prepared them for delivery to Mr. Smith at the Times, the story’s subject might wish to refute her firsthand informants with a personal interview of his own. For that, she’d certainly write a follow-up piece.

Anna rested her elbows on the desk, then cracked her knuckles, a horrid habit that, when she was a child, earned a swift reprimand. A knock at the door drew Anna’s attention. A maid reminded her to dress for dinner.

“Dinner?” She gathered up the packet and held it behind her, then opened the door a crack. “Whatever for?”

The maid shrugged. “I’m sorry, miss, but your parents insist.”

“My parents? My mother perhaps, but Papa’s in Leadville until Thursday.” Anna shook her head. “Surely Mother’s much too tired from her journey to sit through dinner. Tell her she’s not required to do so by me.”

The maid gave another timid shrug followed by a curtsy. “Your father has returned. He said I should tell both you and your mother half past eight.”

Anna covered her surprise. “Half past eight it is.”

She closed the door and returned to her work. By the time she washed for dinner, true to her promise to Mr. Smith, Anna had managed to plan enough regular features to fill a month’s worth of twice-weekly columns. Each would be added to the stories carefully clipped and resting atop the pile of Mae Winslow novels hiding in a locked trunk in the attic.

It all seemed so silly and clandestine, especially given her age and credentials. With the funds still languishing in the bank in Boston, she could live a quiet life elsewhere without any concern for what her parents thought. More than once she’d considered doing just that, finding some peaceful hamlet and focusing on her journalistic career without caring who knew.

For tonight, she was a daughter who would love nothing better than to speak with her father about the men who’d troubled her today. She wouldn’t, of course, not in front of her mother. Later, perhaps, when Papa went to his library.

Anna greeted her parents as she entered the dining room and took her seat at the table.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.