Pistons and Pistols by Tonia Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

hitching post neighed at her outburst.
    “Fine,” Magpie said. “No need to get worked up about it.”
    “I’m not worked up, because there’s nothing to get worked up about.”
    “Suit yourself. I’m not your momma.” The older woman left Gabriella standing in front of the hitching post as she pushed through the doors of the saloon behind them.
    Gabriella tried, oh so very hard, not to get worked up about it. But she needed someone to vent to, someone she could tell what had happened between her and that man. More than anything else, she needed a mother, and Magpie was about the closest thing to a mother Gabriella had. She slipped through the double doors to seek Magpie, so she could share her misfortune.
    The saloon air was stagnant with thick swells of smoke, bitter fumes of alcohol, and the barest hint of aged urine. Gabriella covered her mouth, resisting the urge to retch as she stood in the doorway, searching the crowded room for Magpie. The place was crammed wall to wall with people, men and women both, with a cup in every hand and a smile on almost every face. There was also a gun on every hip, and in most cases a pair of the metal beasts dangled from the waists of rough men who looked able enough to use them. Stilted music floated on the thick air, produced by a drunken piano player, filling the gaps between shouts and cries, cussing and calling. Gabriella was just about to give up on locating Magpie, when she spied the woman standing at the bar.
    She rushed up to the bar, doing her best to avoid the raucous men and their wandering hands. “Magpie? What are you doing? The captain said to return to the ship.”
    Magpie winked at Gabriella. “I’m just buying supplies. You go on back to the ship. I’ll be right behind ya.”
    Gabriella was confused. The store they just left sold all kinds of traveling goods, and with the owner being a personal friend of the captain, surely they would have received sundries at a discounted price. What could the woman not get at Jebediah’s that she could buy here?
    Gabriella spied a bottle on the counter, the silent answer to her unspoken question.
    “Magpie!” Gabriella snapped. “You’re buying alcohol?”
    “No,” Magpie said as she snatched up the bottle. “I’m buying liquor.”
    “That’s the same thing.”
    “The only resemblance this stuff has to alcohol is its ability to strip paint.” Magpie held the bottle to the low light, frowning as sediment settled at the bottom of the amber fluid. “You sure this is triple filtered?”
    The barkeep gave a sharp laugh.
    She raised an eyebrow at the laughter. “What did you filter it through? Your filthy apron?”
    The barkeep didn’t look very happy about the snide remark. “You gonna buy it or not?”
    Magpie tossed a few coins at the man, grumbling under her breath about the similarity between salesmen and highwaymen.
    Gabriella was flabbergasted. She knew that under normal circumstances, the woman didn’t associate with the demons of drinking, a habit easy to avoid since the captain banned alcohol aboard the Widow. It must be the dire state of affairs in which the women found themselves that forced Magpie to sink so low. That the danger nipping at their heels could force such a noble soul into such a terrible habit made Gabriella sick. She felt it was her duty, as a woman and a friend, to stop Magpie before she could start.
    “Magpie.” She made her voice as sweet as she could manage. “You know you don’t have to start drinking.”
    Magpie shrugged as she tucked the bottle into her rucksack. “I know.”
    Gabriella thought back to her mother’s prohibitionist meetings. What was it they used to say in these situations? All she could remember was her mother shouting the word ‘repent’ over and over at a poor man passed out in the gutter. Gabriella supposed that would work now just about as well as it worked then, which was to say it wouldn’t. She decided to try a different tactic.
    “Give him