Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1) by Jason D. Morrow

Author:Jason D. Morrow [Morrow, Jason D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Asher Elliot
Published: 2016-03-12T05:00:00+00:00

Nate

Spring, 1882 A.D.

Nathaniel Cole was on all fours puking his guts out over the side of the porch in front of the Wild Dog Saloon in El Paso, Texas. As his dinner spilled out onto the dusty ground, he became angry with himself. He could usually hold his liquor just fine, but tonight he had had too much. Far too much. He was glad Joe wasn’t anywhere around to scold him. In fact, he was in El Paso to get away from his little brother—to get away from the entire gang. Every now and then he needed the respite.

Some respite, he thought.

He could hear a few men in the saloon laughing at him, making puking noises and shoving fingers down their throats as if it were some grand insult. Nate had lost a good bit of money in a game of poker, but at least he didn’t owe anything. Coming to El Paso to gamble with the inability to pay debts could end in a deadly shootout. Though some looked forward to such an interaction, Nate wanted to avoid it. At least tonight. He had come to drink and gamble, not to kill.

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and rested his shoulder against a post. A pony tried to nibble at his hat, but he pushed at the animal’s nose. “Get away,” he said too quietly. The bile in his throat and nose burned. It was nothing a glass of milk couldn’t cure, but he wasn’t about to walk back into the saloon and order a glass of milk. No one here knew him, that was good, but he wasn’t here to gain a reputation either. There were a few people who would know who he was if he properly introduced himself, surely. His bounty was so high that he was surprised that there wasn’t at least one wanted poster of him in the town. There might have been one at the sheriff’s office, but the types in the Wild Dog Saloon probably didn’t make it a habit to walk by the sheriff’s office, though a few of them had probably been forced in there a few times.

Nate decided to get to his feet before he was locked up for public drunkenness. His head swam and he stumbled, catching himself before falling forward. He held out a hand to steady himself and shut his eyes to keep his vision from swimming. But despite his state, he was acutely aware of someone calling out his name from a few feet behind him.

“Nathaniel Cole,” the voice said again.

It was never a good thing for someone to call out his name in a place like El Paso. It could only mean trouble.

Nate spun around, doing his best to keep his balance. He squinted through the darkness to try and make out the man’s face, but the night sky was unforgiving to his drunken eyes. He could see a tall man with a top hat and long coat with two men on either side of him, but he couldn’t get a clear glimpse of their features.

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