Page 39 of The Prospector's Only Prospect
“Who thinks Rufus stole it?” Virgil asked.
Wildfire’s hand shot into the air, then sank as he realized he was the only one.
“It sounds to me like the man you won the watch from is after you to get it back,” Virgil said. “So here’s what I’m going to do. Rufus, I’m going to pay you twenty dollars for that watch. Is that a fair price?”
“Yes, sir.” Rufus nodded so hard, the uneven line of his hair flapped against his forehead.
“Done. Now the watch is mine. I’ll sell it to you— Let me finish.” He put up a hand to forestall Sureshot’s sputtering argument. “If you don’t have twenty dollars today, that’s fine. I’ll let you take this watch back to Horsefly and settle up however you need to. But the next time I see you, whether it’s here or a saloon or hell itself, I’m going to expect my twenty dollars. All these men are witnesses.” Virgil pointed around the gathered group. “I’ll warn you now that the owner of that watch is nothing compared to the hound on your heels I am when someone owes me money. If those terms are acceptable, Stoney can give you the watch and you can get the hell out of Quail’s Creek. Don’t come back without my money.”
Sureshot curled his lip and gave a crafty look around. “I’ll have it next week.”
Sure he would. Virgil would never see him again, and that was easily worth twenty dollars, but it wouldn’t even cost him that much. His partners would chip in. Virgil was only out two dollars and change.
…
As the horses galloped away, the tension in the office hissed out like a held breath. Ira opened the door and stepped outside. Emmett quit guarding the window and set his gun back on the rack behind the door. Levi said, “I wish my bunk was this high,” before jumping down and landing with athud.
Marigold had been rocking Harley to keep him quiet. He’d fallen asleep and was straining her arms, so she set him on a lower bunk and straightened with a sigh of relief.
As Emmett and Levi went outside, leaving the door open, Nettie poked her head out to ask, “Papa, is it okay now?”
“Sure is, little bug.” Virgil gave Nettie’s hair a pat as he came into the office. He briefly met Marigold’s gaze, gave her the smallest nod of reassurance, then helped himself to a piece of paper and a pencil from the cup on the sill.
“Howdy, Miss Nettie.” Rufus stepped aside to let Nettie leave, then he hovered in the open doorway. “Missus Davis. It’s nice to see you again.” He smiled wide enough to show his chipped tooth.
“Hello, Rufus. It’s nice to see you, too.” Marigold nodded politely, still trying to shake off the fear that had gripped her.
Virgil scrawled a note and offered it to Rufus.
“Bring that back on payday. We’ll settle up then, but I won’t pay it out to anyone else, so don’t bother gambling it. Now get on back to work.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Rufus smiled at Marigold once more before he left.
Virgil moved to give the coffeepot on the cold stove a swirl and released a disappointed sigh at the lack of slosh.
“I’ll run across to the cookhouse,” Marigold offered. “Make some fresh.”
“Where’s Harley?” He glanced around.
She pointed at the bunk.
He nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Thank you for keeping them quiet. I worry about my children being used as leverage against me.” He squeezed the back of his neck, his first show of anything less than complete control over the situation.
“This is what you meant, isn’t it?” She clasped her elbows. “When you told me there’s no law here and you have to do it yourself? I didn’t appreciate what that meant until today.” She didn’t know which was worse, a system so tightly woven that there was no picking out the threads of injustice, or this void where any sort of crime could go unpunished.
“Yeah, men aren’t real worried about standing trial in Fort Riley if there’s no one here to arrest ’em and take ’em there,” he said drily.
“Weren’t you frightened they might shoot you?” The empty pot shook in her hand as she accepted.
“Hey now.” He stepped close enough to set his hand under the pot to steady it and covered where she gripped the handle. “We’re safe.” His hand felt warm over her chilled one. Callused, but gentle where he wrapped his palm over her sharp knuckles. “If they were the type to kill in cold blood, they’d have already shot the owner of the watch. It was plain enough they were scared of him. They’ll be scared of me now, so I doubt I’ll ever see them again.”
“You managed to calculate all those risks in the heat of the moment?” An incredulous laugh scraped her throat.
“Done it often enough I’m good at it, I s’pose.”
Another chuckle of mild hysteria escaped her.
His mouth quirked in a rueful half smile. Their gazes locked, and his thumb rubbed her skin where he still covered her hand.
