2
Lane Haskins
“I can’t f*****g believe it,” I murmured. I’d seen quite a bit in my time, but this… I’d never forget. “This has to be the seediest, dirtiest saloon in town.”
“We looked everywhere else,” Spur replied, taking off his hat, running his hand through his dark hair.
Even though we’d arrived a little late to meet the stage, Patricia Strong hadn’t been there waiting for us. Since the stage’s arrival time varied wildly depending on anything from the weather to the sobriety of the driver, we’d intended to be a day early. My mine in Jasper was turning into quite the headache; the latest fiasco with the shirring beams had set our ride down the mountain back until this morning. The owner of the town’s mercantile said the stage had, of course, arrived an hour early, which meant we’d
