Wild Cards and Iron Horses by Sheryl Nantus Read Free Book Online

doing anything and was part of the backup system that was redundant, in her opinion, and totally unnecessary other than a reason to charge more.
    “You need to be more careful.” Her father settled onto the stool. He rapped his knuckles on the tabletop to break her concentration, as was his routine. “Stripping our customers bare may not be the best way to keep our business.”
    Sam glanced sideways. “And what business would that be, Father?” She pointed the pencil in her right hand at the copper-colored beast standing in the shadows. “You and I both know that it’s only a matter of time before we, ourselves, are replaced.” The blunt pencil tip returned to the paper, grinding across the page. “The stagecoach owners wouldn’t want just anyone working on their creatures. There’ll be engineers coming from the East, specialists in their top hats and fancy degrees. They won’t want self-trained people, especially women, working on their lovelies. They’ll look at our repair job and find it inadequate even though what we’re doing makes it more efficient. You’ve heard the rumors, the larger shops putting in bids for the maintenance and repair of these beasts. They won’t want the smaller stops, like Prosperity Ridge, to get any business.” She spat the words out as if they were poison. “Right now, any work is good work.”
    “True.” Her father leaned back in the chair, reaching into one pocket for his tobacco pouch. “But you don’t have to undress the poor boy like that. I’m sure he’s got plenty of women at the poker games that’ll do it for him with a gentler touch.”
    “A gambler. What a waste.” Sam huffed, scribbling heavily over one section and blacking it out. “I’m not totally blind to the outside world, Father. He should get a real job. Honest work that’ll turn those soft hands into something worthwhile.” Her mind, unbidden, ran back over her inspection of Jon Handleston’s crippled body. Soft, supple skin that had probably been washed with dainty soaps and perfumed water since birth, probably never lifted more than a silver spoon to his mouth, to those lips that would be…
    “Then why did you agree to fix it?”
    Sam snapped back into reality with a thud that she swore her father could hear. “Because we need the money.”
    “Ah.” After unrolling the pouch with his one hand, he dug inside. He slipped a wad of tobacco into his mouth, pressing it into his cheek. “That’s good. I’d hate to think that you liked the fellow and all. The way you were pawing him over, it was sort of frightening me. Made me think about you going out courting.” Her father folded up the supple leather, wrestling with the small sinews to tie it shut.
    “Father!” Her face went scarlet. She leaned over the desk, attempting to focus on the drawing. “It was merely professional curiosity. You don’t find handiwork like that every day. I found it very stimulating.
    Mentally. From a professional point of view, you know.” Sam stammered through the last sentence, feeling the burning in her cheeks.
    “True,” he replied, “very true.” The tobacco pouch went back into his pocket.
    “I hope he finds his way back to Mary’s place without getting too lost,” Sam murmured, almost too low for her father to hear. “Be a shame to do all this work and never see the man again.”

Chapter Four
    There was no sign of Gil on the way back to the hotel. Jon stumbled along, the handkerchief providing little help as he walked through the thick, choking smoke. He glanced at the crumpled map every few minutes despite its uselessness, before finally stuffing it into his pocket. He didn’t dare go back into the dark alleys even though he was armed. The last thing he needed was to start a brawl with some ruffian looking for a fight.
    A horseless carriage rumbled by. Standing on the wooden sidewalk, Jon watched the vehicle twist and turn down the street, a small group of street kids running behind it. The