Page 22 of High Noon

Chapter Six

Titus

Thankfully,I reached the trading post before Bill and managed to steal some clothes from the back of a wagon whose proprietor was busy sleeping off what smelled like a hell of a lot of whiskey.

He snored so loud, I wondered if the canvas was actually moving toward him as he inhaled and away from him with every exhalation. He never woke, even as I rifled through his things until I found something that would fit: a pair of pants, shirt, and a bandanna to cover the top of the suit. The clothes, though folded neatly, hadn’t been laundered in a very long time, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

I didn't feel that bad about the clothes I stole, but I did feel bad about taking the man's hat. It was a little too big, but would provide the cover I needed from the harsh sun.

The trading post was nothing more than a few ramshackle buildings posing as storefronts. A bank, an almost-finished general store, and the largest building by far – a saloon. I kept my eyes out for Terah. This part of the country was vast and unsettled, wild and untamed. There was probably nothing but this place for one hundred miles in any direction, so she had to be here somewhere. If I landed here, it was because my tech pulled me toward her.

The post wasn’t packed by any means, but a few wagons were parked haphazardly in a rough circle around the ‘town’.

My stomach growled. Traveling made a guy hungry, and I’d lost weight since I started jumping. I raked a hand down my stomach. I could tell the saloon had food; the smell of it wafted through a pair of freshly- made, double swinging doors.

I pushed the hat down further on my head and watched for several minutes as people stumbled in and out of the saloon. A few people settled their camps and readied their makeshift tents or wagons for the night, while others drifted aimlessly in and out of the saloon. I didn’t see anyone familiar and decided it was time to take a chance. I couldn’t hang around and wait forever. I stepped into the dusty street and made my way to the saloon.

Parting the swinging doors, I made my way to the farthest empty corner I could find. A middle-aged woman with a long braid of hair falling over her shoulder came over almost immediately. "What can I get ya?" she asked, looking me over.

This woman had a hardness about her, evident by the way she set her jaw and placed her hands on her hips, arching a brow when I didn’t answer fast enough.

"This seems like more than a trading post," I led, shooting her a lopsided smile.

She relaxed her shoulders and jaw and gave a throaty laugh. "Oh, it is. It'll be the biggest town in these parts before long. New buildings are being hammered into place every day around here. A few miners panned gold in the north river, and word spreads fast over the prairie. It'll be teemin’ with people before you know it. Are you here to strike it rich?” She lowered her voice to a sultry octave and leaned in. “You know, I could help you find everything you need… supplies, or, well, just anything,” she flirted.

My face heated. No thank you. She was old enough to be my mother. "I just might linger a while and see what happens. But right now, I wonder what you’ve got cooking back there? It smells delicious.”

If being Eve’s teammate taught me anything, it was to use any weapon at my disposal. If this chick thought I was good looking, I would use it to land a meal and make her more willing to pass on information I needed – namely, Terah’s whereabouts.

She fanned herself. The woman’s makeup was too heavy and the fabric of her dress strained at the buttons, but I could tell she was going to help before the words left her mouth. "Tell you what. I'll go fix you up something you won't forget. You’ll want to eat here every evenin’."

"That would be great."

She returned a few minutes later with a small glass of whiskey. “This’ll help fill you up until the food’s ready.”

“Thanks,” I told her, tipping the amber liquid back. It burned all the way down and I stifled a cough. “Whew. That’s strong.”

“The strongest.” She laughed and promised to be back when the food was ready. I scrubbed my hands over my face when the chair across from mine was dragged across the floor. Terah made herself comfortable across from me, wearing a gown ten times finer than the barmaid had worn.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she drawled, her accent as fake as her smile.

“Terah.”

“Titus.”

She didn’t bother to glance at my wrists. I knew now they could tell us apart from the clones by our scents. She gave me a genuine smile. Wide. Pretty. Malicious. “I’m going to kill you,” she promised. “When you walk out of here, you’re as good as dead.”

“Then I better stay put,” I quipped, raising my glass and taking another swig. This time I did cough, making Terah roll her eyes.

Terah was pretty, her hair shiny and golden brown. She’d curled and pinned most of it up, but a couple tendrils dangled from the pile of hair and ghosted the nape of her neck. She wore a small hat tilted sideways on her head, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how she kept it from falling off. Her dress was white and purple, striped vertically from the top of the bodice all the way to the bottom hem.

She looked like she belonged in the circus. Technically, I wasn’t wrong. Talk about a freak show.

“Interesting pattern. Did you pick that out yourself?” I asked with a smirk, gesturing to her dress.

She huffed, crossing her arms and looking indignant. “From the rancid odor, I gather that you stole those rags just outside from one of the lushes lying around, too drunk to know day from night. Not that their habits don’t benefit me. A girl needs to feed.” She grinned at me and I wanted to stab her through her smart mouth instead of through the heart.

She and I sat in stony silence, but I used the time to listen to the chatter around us. A man with an impressive mustache pounded the keys of a piano across the room. Meat sizzled over a fire in the back room. Glasses clinked. People guzzled strong spirits. The smell of fresh wood and the grit of sawdust lingered underfoot.

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