The Trailrider's Fortune Read Online Free Page B

in a spending mood. A big cattle
drive had come into town; the men's high spirits were infectious. She accepted
the gold coin her next patron offered, sliding it into her bodice as she began
laying out the tarot cards.
     
    * * *
     
    Rafe hadn't planned
on roving back into the Scarlet Lady, but hell, it was a nice place. A notch or
two better than the Rusty Nail or the other bawdy houses along Wichita's main
street. The fact a certain fetchin' gal worked in this one didn't hurt, either.
Not that he'd been fooled by her little act earlier. She'd used him to get ride
of a problem. Didn't everybody? Wealthy cattlemen, bankers, politicians, the
railroads, even lawmen…They all used freelancers like Raford Conley to get ride
of problems.
    He eased into a
vacant seat at one of the poker tables. His eyes were instantly drawn to the
small table where Sparkle sat reading fortunes. She'd changed her clothes, all
right. He hadn't seen her fully primped for the evening herds before. She sure
as hell did look pretty—all powdered and fresh, hair piled up, lips painted
nice and rosy. He grinned as she adjusted a shoulder strap on the hated red
dress. If she new the way it made a man feel to see her fine body wrapped up in
it, she would've thanked Frazer instead of cussin' at him.
    The saloon was
getting noisy and a bit too crowded, though. Rafe was tempted to get up and
leave. He'd always been a loner, didn't care for a lot of other men so close.
He'd tolerate rubbing elbows for a spell. Sooner or later the little fortune
teller had to take a break. Maybe he'd convince her to step outside for a
chat…or another kiss.
    "Your bride's
quite a woman." It took a second for Rafe to realize the comment had been
directed at him. He glanced up to find the chair beside him was now occupied by
the dandy from the stagecoach. "What's she dealing over there,
monte?"
    "Tarot. She
reads fortunes." Instead of the caustic laugh he expected, Rafe found the
man beside him watching Sparkle all the more intently. Not good. The fella
suffered from a serious lack of judgment.
    "Fortune
teller, eh? Believe she's the first I've ever met. She any good?"
    The look in the
man's eyes implied he wasn't asking about card reading. "You in or
out?" Rafe asked with a deliberate edge of annoyance, motioning toward
their own card table.
    "Quite an
unconventional occupation, particularly for an alluring young gal," the
idiot remarked as he tossed a few more chips into the pot. "Don't believe
I'd allow a wife of mine to work here, dressed in a revealing costume and
fraternizing with strangers. Of course, she's paid to, isn't she?"
    Rafe threw down his
cards. "Getting' mighty sick of your mouth, friend."
    "Name's
Brooks, Joe Brooks. Don't misunderstand. It's only that when I spoke to your
wife earlier, she seemed quite a proper woman. Not at all the typical soiled
dove. A gent might be misled, though—"
    "She don't
take customers upstairs, Brooks. And it ain't healthy for you to be meddling in
her business. I catch you moonin' over my wife, Sparkle—"
    "What's
this?" Frazer had come up behind Rafe, drawn by the edgy behavior at the
table. Several other men sensed Rafe's mounting irritation and looked nervous.
A few patrons had begun creeping toward the doors.
    "Your wife ?"
Frazer echoed. "If that don't beat all! She never said a word. So that's why she wanted the time off. I knew you were partial to her, but never figured
you two for tyin' the knot. Newlyweds, huh?"
    Rafe immediately
regretted his words, but he couldn't retract them without giving Brooks an
opening to pursue the girl. "Yeah. Couple days back."
    "Man alive! If
I'd known that…Hell, Conley." Frazer slapped Rafe on the back.
    Rafe fought the
sudden urge to pistol-whip the saloonkeeper. "She didn't want to make a
big deal of it," he coughed, noting Brooks was eavesdropping with more
than passing interest. Tough figurin' which of these two's the bigger
asshole , Rafe silently told himself.
    "I planned to
have