Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1) by Jason D. Morrow Read Free Book Online Page B

something about magic. Something about a place called Galamore. It was all in the book.
    Nate had to keep himself grounded, however. He didn’t believe in magic or anything like it. And he was probably the least superstitious person in the West, though that wasn’t saying a whole lot. Nate had met plenty of people out West who were superstitious. Those kind of people, especially those who lived alone and in the middle of nowhere, had lightning storms and the haunting melodies of coyotes from some undetermined distance to keep them company. It was easy to become superstitious.
    Nate often wondered if people who could live in such a way were either crazy or extremely grounded. And given the fact that his desire was to travel all the way to Montana to set up a ranch with endless acreage caused him to question his own sanity once or twice. Crazy or not, being out there alone on a ranch was far better than rotting away in a jail cell.
    Nate hoped that wasn’t his current predicament. He pulled out his Colt six-shooter and checked to make sure it was still loaded. He snapped the cylinder back into place and kept his gun in his hand. He stood from the bed cautiously and only then did he notice another jail cell across from him. Nate paused when he saw someone in there watching him. For some reason he felt scared. Frozen to the ground. He held his gun in front of him, his finger resting on the side of the trigger.
    The person in the other cell stayed in the shadows and Nate couldn’t quite see the person’s face. To him, the figure was more like a shadow than anything when it moved just slightly. Then there was a voice.  
    “Where did you come from?” the voice asked just above a whisper.
    Nate’s jaw tensed. He didn’t want a guard or the sheriff to come in after him, so he kept his voice low. “I’m not exactly sure what’s happening,” he answered truthfully.
    “Why are you here?” the voice asked.  
    Again, Nate didn’t know the answer, but this time he didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved closer to the bars to get a better look at his surroundings. He found that he was in one of many different jail cells along a cold and dark hallway. To his left was the end of the hallway with three cells on either side. To his right were about five more on either side, all of them leading to a set of stairs at the end and a large wooden door that closed them off from the outside world. Nate could see the outline of daylight under the crack of the door and wondered where it led.
    To his right, he could hear someone coughing, and to his left a man was singing quietly to himself. It seemed that most of these cells were occupied.
    He looked back at the cell across from him. “I don’t know where I am,” he whispered.
    “In jail,” the voice came back.  
    Nate wasn’t sure, but it seemed that the voice that answered him back was from a woman. Now, Nate had seen his fair share of jails in his time. Mostly it was when he had been disruptive in public, causing bar fights or firing his weapon in the air to stir up a ruckus while he was intoxicated. Whenever Nate was jailed in these instances, he was usually in some know-nothing town where no one had ever heard of him, or if they had they didn’t know what he looked like, thus they never bothered to try and collect his bounty. Nate was choosy about the towns he stayed in and the saloons he liked to frequent. He sometimes smiled when he wondered what some of those sheriffs or deputies might have thought if they had ever discovered that he was none other than Nathaniel Cole, bounty: $5,000.
    Of all the times he’d been inside a jail cell, he never recollected there being a woman to keep him company, whether it be in the same cell or in an adjacent one. It was possible that Nate was talking to a younger boy, but that was almost as unlikely. This voice was too deep for a boy, but too feminine for a man.
    “Why don’t you step into the light where I can see you?” Nate