3
Spur
“Oh, um, yes.”
With my free hand, I tipped my hat. “I am Spurgeon Drews, although since my name is a mouthful, everyone calls me Spur. I apologize to have missed you when you arrived. The stage is not usually so early.”
Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at me. Studied me, just as I did her.
“Spur? Intriguing name. Um… yes, the driver was in a rush to continue on.”
From a doctor’s perspective, she appeared to be in her early twenties, well nourished, healthy, with hips and breasts to birth and sustain a baby. Her coloring didn’t indicate any liver problems, her eyes clear, informing me she wasn’t a lush. She wore no glasses, and it seemed my only concern was that she would lose her hearing from gun reports.
From a man’s perspective, she was gorgeous. Her eyelashes and ey
