When Hettie and Walker returned to Blackthorn’s Hell, Duke and the others were still out hunting the payroll wagons.
“Still?” Walker huffed. Walker seemed to forget sometimes that the time bubble had shortened their time away from the hideout.
“It takes as long as it takes,” Hettie said, waving him off.
He glowered. “You need to keep Duke in check. That man’s liable to mutiny.”
“As long as the money’s good and the food, whiskey, and juice are flowing, the men won’t have any reason to change horses. Duke joined with us, remember, not the other way around. Man might be good at busting heads, but he can’t lead a charge. Besides,” she said more mildly, “Lena’s with him. The men’ll listen to her more than him on account of her magic.”
“You don’t think that’s a bone of contention he’d pick
