Anna Finch and the Hired Gun by Kathleen Y'Barbo Read Free Book Online Page B

in the middle of the lobby. While the hapless parents attempted to console their little one, the uniformed employee watched intently, giving Jeb a moment to race up the staircase without being noticed.
    Jeb reached the second-floor landing and stumbled to a stop. In the center of the nearly empty dining room sat Wyatt Earp and his wife. And with them was Doc Holliday. This Jeb certainly hadn’t expected, for the once inseparable duo had not been seen in public in years. From what he’d heard, Wyatt had settled into quiet obscurity as a family man bent on living to a ripe old age. The woman approached the outlaws’ table as boldly as if she’d known them all her life.
    The lack of a crowd in the dining room gave Jeb only one place to hide that still offered a view of the table in question, and he slipped behind the forest of palm trees in the corner without hesitation. Secure in his hiding place, Jeb returned his attention to the drama playing out at the only table in the room occupied by diners. At least it appeared to be a drama, though the woman’s flustered body language was almost humorous. Few things were funny, however, with Doc Holliday sitting across the table from his old friend Wyatt Earp.
    Quite a meeting, especially considering the old friends had chosen to come out into the open.
    Jeb squatted down to get comfortable. Whatever was about to transpire, he didn’t intend to miss any of it.
    Then the woman turned and glanced in his direction, and the breath went out of him. It was her.
    The woman who’d shot him.

Throw up your hands, Doc Holliday.
    I have you now!
    —
as reported by Perry Mallon, Denver Tribune, May 1887
    Anna hid her shaking hands behind her as she opened her mouth to begin the speech she’d practiced in the buggy. Three sets of eyes looked up at her, and yet not a word would come.
    An odd situation for one who had more trouble stopping her speech than starting it.
    Whereas she’d planned to be forthright and professional in her journalistic endeavor, now Anna had to settle for looking foolish.
    In the hope that some brilliance would materialize as an opening line to the wanted men, Anna opened her mouth and said, “Gentlemen.” She paused to smile at Mrs. Earp. “And you, of course,” she added. “I suppose you wonder why I came back.” She presented the folded bills to Mr. Earp’s friend, who merely stared at her outstretched hand. “You’ve overpaid, Mr. Bonney.”
    A fair brow, barely visible against his pale skin, rose in response. “While I thank you for returning the excess,” he said, “I must protest. As my angel of mercy, I wonder if you realize the value of the favor you’ve done for me.”
    Anna gave the Earps a sideways glance before shaking her head. “I’ll not hear of it, sir.” She paused long enough to take a breath. “You see, I”—
    “ ’Scuse me, miss.”
    A plate piled with more food than a girl could eat in a week landed on the table in front of her. The waiter grinned, then placed similar dishes in front of the other three diners. “Enjoy,” he said before tucking the tray under his arm and turning on his heels to head back toward the kitchen.
    “But wait, I—”
    “Please join us,” Mrs. Earp said.
    “Truly, that was not my intention.”
    Mr. Earp shook his head. “Never argue with the help,” he said in his slow drawl. “Or, for that matter, with the spouse.” His serious expression only lasted a second. “I suppose that just works if you’re not the wife.” He nudged his friend. “Ain’t that right, Mr. Bonney?”
    The fair-haired man revealed the beginning of a smile. “I don’t suppose I’ve spent enough time with mine to know for sure.”
    Mrs. Earp looked perplexed. “Where is Kate these days?” she asked.
    Anna noticed the former lawman’s almost imperceptible shake of the head along with the way he narrowed his eyes when his wife attempted to speak further. Their companion seemed inclined to go along with the