One Went to Denver and the Other Went Wrong (Code of the West) by Bly Stephen

Author:Bly, Stephen [Bly, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-11-13T00:00:00+00:00

The Mexican maid blushed.

“It did. Didn’t it? That was him. That was my Tap.”

“Shall I go get him, Señora? I will be very cautious.”

“No. Don’t you see? I must leave at once. Order a carriage to the back of the house. I will pack my things. He can’t find me here.”

“But . . . you hate Mr. Dillard and have been wanting to get back to Mr. Tap. Now that he might be here, you want to run?”

Lord, why doesn’t this make sense to anyone but me?

6

Most of the patrons at the Pearly Gate Dance Hall quickly resumed their drinking, dancing, gambling, and various other forms of debauchery the moment Tap eased the bartender back down to his feet and turned to face the woman dressed in purple velvet.

“Rena . . . I thought . . .”

“Around here I’m called Lena.”

“You work here?” Tap surveyed the room. Several men’s hands rested on their holstered handguns as they watched him.

“You might say that. You haven’t changed much.”

“You wouldn’t believe the changes,” Tap replied.

An argument at a poker table in the back corner of the room caused them both to look in that direction for a moment. Then Tap pushed his gray hat back and shook his head. “You look good, Rena. Maybe the makeup’s a little thick, and the dress is much too revealing, but you’re still the prettiest thing Globe City ever saw. This doesn’t seem like the right kind of place for you to work.”

“Don’t think you’re the first cowboy to feed me that line, Mr. Tapadera Andrews. Besides, technically, I don’t work here.”

“How’s that?”

“I own the place.”

“You own the Pearly Gate?”

“Me and a silent partner. I run the operation.”

“That’s quite a distance from being a bank manager’s wife in Arizona.”

A loud slap and a curse punctuated their conversation. A short, bald-headed man with a handlebar mustache got smacked alongside the head by a dance-hall girl who was almost as wide as she was tall. At the same time three Welsh miners began singing a Celtic tune near the bar.

Rena shrugged. “It’s not boring.” Tap felt her warm, soft hand link fingers with his. “Come on, we have a lot of talking to do.” She tugged him through the crowd toward a back room.

“Look, Rena . . . I don’t want to go back there. What I want is some information.”

A wide smile broke across her painted lips. “This is my office, not my bedroom. We can’t talk out here. It’s too noisy.”

Stepping into the back room at the Pearly Gate was like walking into a different world. A big oak rolltop desk hovered near a lace-curtained window. Prints of famous paintings lined the far wall above a standing globe and black leather couch.

Rena beckoned for him to join her as she sat down at one end of the sofa. “I really am relieved to find that you’re not in jail in Yuma.”

“No thanks to you. Rena, why did you run off? Where did you go?”

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked.

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