Catawampus Christmas Carol by Ann Charles

Author:Ann Charles [Lucky, Ann Charles & Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Deadwood Undertaker Series
Publisher: Ann Charles
Published: 2020-11-20T00:00:00+00:00

STAVE FOUR

The Last of the Friends

Boone hustled and stomped through the slushy, muddy runoff of Deadwood’s main street. The gentle incline of the terrain was good for removing melted snow and rain—and other, smellier manmade things, but it also allowed the runoff to carve irregular ditches and gullies through the street that created something of an adversity out of navigating the main thoroughfare, if one could call it that.

To make the matter of navigation worse, a few of the industrious sort had taken to first picking, then panning, and then digging trenches in the dirt and muck of the street, hoping the riches that were said to pave Deadwood were somewhere below, hidden by a layer of grime and …

Hmm, what is that? Boone skirted what looked to be a heap of … never mind.

He turned his attention to The Pyre funeral parlor a short ways up the street. Clementine was most likely in there, and it was his intention to challenge her.

She won’t listen, said the cynical voice in his head.

She would, too.

Maybe. But you aren’t going to change her mind. She’s a loner. Nothing you can do to change that.

“Says you,” he muttered under his breath.

Don’t delude yourself.

“Clap the yapper, naysayer.”

Fine! But you’ll see.

He would see.

Maybe he was wrong to go to The Pyre to try to stop her. After all, Clementine was a clever, capable woman with clear sentiments about her place in the world. She was a Slayer; there was no ambiguity on that point. And there was nothing about that fact that he wanted to change.

Boone detected conflict in her, though. She had known only aloneness and seclusion for most of her life, but with the appearance of Hank came the possibility of friendship. He offered a platonic companionship; one that would appeal to anyone who desired camaraderie yet dreaded the encumbrances of a more emotional connection.

Then came the Sidewinders from Santa Fe. Both Rabbit and Boone had grown fond of her and, he believed, she of them. Clementine had helped them not only uncover the truth about Uncle Morton, but also dole out a reckoning to the Bahkauv. They hadn’t necessarily avenged their uncle, but they were off to a good start.

Now Rabbit and he were in it, maybe not as deeply as Clementine, or Hank for that matter, but they were in it just the same. Add to that their ownership of the livery and the new hotel they were building, and they were now committed to life in the Black Hills, like it or not.

A blast of freezing air hit him broadside, nearly taking his breath away. Hurrying through the cold, Boone cursed Rabbit under his breath. It was Rabbit who had convinced him to stay in Deadwood—mostly. If it hadn’t been for that headstrong mutton-puncher, Boone probably would have returned to the sunny warmth of Santa Fe. Winters there were a hell of a lot milder, and their uncle’s ranch house was warm and comfortable, and often smelling like sweet pastries this time of year thanks to Lupe’s love of baking.

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